History of the Rise, Progress and Termination of the American

Revolution, Interspersed with biographical, political and moral

observations, in three volumes

by Mrs. Mercy Warren of Plymouth Massachusetts

1805

________________
Volume 1 -- from the origins to Valley Forge in 1778
Introduction -- An Address to the Inhabitants of the United States of
America
 Chapter 1 -- Introductory Observations

 Chapter 2 -- The Stamp Act. A Congress convened at New York,

1765. The Stamp Act repealed. New grievances. Suspension of the
legislature of New York.

 Chapter 3 -- Cursory Observations. Massachusetts Circular Letter. A

new House of Representatives called. Governor Bernard impeached.
A riot on the seizure of a vessel. Troops arrive. A Combination against
all commerce with Great Britain. A General Assembly convened at
Boston, removed to Cambridge. Governor Bernard after his
impeachment repairs to England.

 Chapter 4 -- Character of Mr. Hutchinson. Appointed Governor of

Massachusetts. The attempted Assassination of Mr. Otiose.
Transactions of the March 5, 1770. Arrival of the East India
Company's Tea Ships. Establishment of Committees of
Correspondence. The Right of Parliamentary Taxation without
Representation urged by Mr. Hutchinson. Articles of Impeachment
resolved on in the House of Representatives against Governor
Hutchinson and Lieutenant Governor Oliver. Chief Justice of the
Province impeached. Chief Justice of the Province impeached. Boston
Port Bill. Governor Hutchinson leaves the Province.
 Chapter 5 -- General Gage appointed Governor of Massachusetts.
General Assembly meets at Salem. A proposal for a Congress from all
the Colonies to be convened at Philadelphia. Mandamus Counselors
obliged to resign. Resolutions of the General Congress. Occasional
Observations. The Massachusetts attentive to the military discipline of
their youth. Suffolk Resolves. A Provincial Congress chosen in the
Massachusetts. Governor Gage summons a new House of
Representatives.

 Chapter 6 -- Parliamentary divisions on American affairs. Cursory

observations and events. Measures for raising an army of observation
by the four New England governments of New Hampshire,
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut. Battle of Lexington.
Sketches of the conduct and characters of the governors of the
southern provinces. Ticonderoga taken. Arrival of reinforcements from
England. Proscription and characters of Samuel Adams and John
Hancock. Battle of Bunker Hill. Death and character of General
Joseph Warren. Massachusetts adopts a stable form of government.

 Chapter 7 -- Continental Army. Mr. Washington appointed to the

command. General Gage recalled, succeeded by Sir William Howe.
Depredations on the sea coast. Falmouth burnt. Canadian affairs.
Death and character of General Montgomery.

 Chapter 8 -- Dissensions in the British Parliament. Petition of

Governor Penn rejected. Boston evacuated. Sir Henry Clinton sent to
the southward., followed by General Lee. His character. Sir Peter
Parker's attack on Sullivan's Island. General Howe's Arrival at Sandy
Hook. General Washington leaves Cambridge. Observations on the
temper of some of the colonies.

 Chapter 9 -- Declaration of Independence. Lord Howe's arrival in

America. Action on Long Island. Retreat of the Americans through the
Jerseys and the loss of Forts Washington and Lee. Affairs in Canada.
Surprise of the Hessians at Trenton. Various transactions in the
Jerseys. General Howe's retreat. Makes headquarters at Brunswick.
His indecisions. Some traits of his character.
 Chapter 10 -- Desultory circumstances. Skirmishes and events.
General Howe withdraws from the Jerseys. Arrives at the River Elk.
Followed by Washington. The Battle of Brandywine. General
Washington defeated, retreats to Philadelphia. Obliged to draw of his
army. Lord Cornwallis takes possession of the city. Action at
Germantown, Red Bank, etc. The British Army take winter quarters in
Philadelphia. The Americans encamp at Valley Forge. General
Washington's situation not eligible. De Lisle's letters. General Conway
resigns. The Baron de Steuben appointed Inspector General of the
American army.

Volume 2 -- from Saratoga in 1778 to the eve of Yorktown in 1781

 Chapter 11 -- Northern Department. General Carleton superseded.

General Burgoyne vested with the command for operations in
Canada. Ticonderoga abandoned by General St. Clair. Affair of Fort
Stanwix. Of Bennington and various other important movements of the
two armies, until the Convention of Saratoga. General Burgoyne
repairs to England on parole. His reception there. Reflections and
observations on the events of the Northern Campaign

 Chapter 12 -- Observations on the conduct of the British Parliament,

previous to the capture of Burgoyne. The ineffectual efforts of the
commissioners sent to America in consequence of Lord North's
Conciliatory Bill. Their attempts to corrupt individuals and public
bodies. Negotiation broken off. Manifesto published by the
commissioners. Counter Declaration by Congress. Sir William Howe
repairs to England

 Chapter 13 -- Evacuation of Philadelphia. Battle of Monmouth.

General Lee censured. General Clinton reaches New York. The Count
de Estaing arrives there. Repairs to Rhode Island. Expedition
unsuccessful. French Fleet rendezvous at Boston to refit after
damages sustained by a storm. Lord Howe leave the American Seas.
Marauding exploits of General Grey. Destruction of Wyoming.
Expedition into the Indian Territories.
 Chapter 14 -- Foreign negotiations. Dissensions among the
American commissioners. Deane recalled. Mr. Adams appointed. Mr.
Lee and Mr. Adams recalled. Spain declares war against England. Mr.
Jay sent to the Court of Madrid. Sir George Collier's expedition to
Virginia. His sudden recall. Ravages on the North River. Depredations
in the state of Connecticut, in aid of Governor Tryon and his partisans.
General Washington seizes Stoney Point. Recovered by the British.
Penobscot expedition. Destruction of the American navy.

 Chapter 15 -- A retrospect of some naval transactions in the West

Indies 1778 and 1779. Affairs in Georgia concisely reviewed. General
Lincoln sent to take the command at the southward. The Count de
Estaing's arrival in Georgia. Savannah closely besieged by the
combined forces of France and America. Repulsed by General
Prescott. The Count of Estaing leaves the southern clime. The Count
Pulaski slain in Georgia. Some anecdotes of Count Kosciusko.

 Chapter 16 -- Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arbuthnot sail for South
Carolina. Charleston invested. Capitulates. General Lincoln and his
army prisoners of war. General Clinton returns to New York. Lord
Cornwallis's command and civil administration in Charleston. Mr.
Gadsden an other gentlemen suspected and sent to St. Augustine.
Much opposition to British authority in both the Carolinas. The Count
de Rochambeau and the Admiral de Tiernay arrived at Newport.
British depredations in the Jerseys. Catastrophe of Mr. Caldwell and
his family. Armed neutrality. Some observations on the state of Ireland.
Riots in England. Cursory observations.

 Chapter 17 --Distressed situation of the army and the country from

various causes. General Gates sent to the southward. Surprised and
defeated at Camden by Lord Cornwallis. Superseded. General
Greene appointed to the command in the Carolinas. Major Ferguson's
defeat. Sir Henry Clinton makes a diversion in the Chesapeake in
favor of Lord Cornwallis. General Arnold sent there. His defection and
character. Detection, trial, and death of Major Andre. Disposition of the
Dutch Republic with regard to America. Governor Trumbull's character
and correspondence with Baron Van de Capellen. Mr. Laurens
appointed to negotiate with the Dutch Republic.

 Chapter 18 -- Revolt of the Pennsylvania line. Discontents in other

parts of the army Paper medium sunk. Some active movements of
Don Bernard de Galvez in America. War between Great Britain and
Spain opened in Europe by the siege of Gibraltar. Short view of
diplomatic transactions between America and several European
powers. Empress of Russia refuses to treat with the American States.

 Chapter 19 -- General Gates surrenders the command of the

southern army to General Greene, on his arrival in South Carolina.
Action between General Sumpter and Colonel Tarleton. General
Morgan's expedition. Meet and defeats Colonel Tarleton. Lord
Cornwallis pursues General Morgan. Party of Americans cut off at the
Catawba. Lord Cornwallis arrives at Hillsborough. Calls by
proclamation on all the inhabitants of the state to join him. Battle of
Guilford. Americans defeated. Lord Cornwallis marches towards
Wilmington. General Greene pursues him. General Greene returns
towards Camden. Action at Camden. Lord Rawdon evacuates
Camden and returns to Charleston. Barbarous state of society among
the mountaineers, and in the back settlements of the Carolinas. Attack
on Ninety-Six. Repulse. General Greene again obliged to retreat.
Execution of Colonel Hayne. Lord Rawdon leaves the state of South
Carolina and embarks for England. Action at the Eutaw Springs.
General Greene retires to the high hills of Santee. Governor Rutledge
returns to South Carolina and resumes the reins of government.

 Chapter 20 -- Lord Cornwallis marches to Wilmington. Marquis de la

Fayette sent to Virginia. Death of General Phillips. Lord Cornwallis
moves from Petersburg to Williamsburg. Dissonant opinions between
him and Sir Henry Clinton. Crosses James River. Takes post at
Portsmouth. Indecision of Sir Henry Clinton. Meditates an attack on
Philadelphia. The project relinquished.

Volume 3 -- from Yorktown in 1781 to the Treaty of Paris in 1783,

plus a few subsequent events and observations about the
Constitution (1787), the French Revolution (1789), and the
presidencies of Washington and Adams (up to 1801)

 Chapter 21 -- A first view of the forces of the contending parties. The

Generals Washington and Rochambeau meet at Weathersfield. Attack
on New York contemplated. The design relinquished. Combined
armies march toward Virginia. Count de Grasse arrives in the
Chesapeake. Sir Samuel Hood arrives at New York. Sails to the
Chesapeake. Naval action. Lord Cornwallis attempts a retreat.
Disappointed. Offers terms of capitulation. Terms of surrender agreed
on. Lord Digby and Sir Henry Clinton arrive too late. Comparative view
of the British commanders. General exchange of prisoners.

 Chapter 22 -- General Wayne sent to the south. Embarrassments of

General Greene in that quarter. Recovery of Georgia and evacuation
of Savannah by the British. Death and character of Colonel Laurens.
Character of General Greene. Consequent observations.

 Chapter 23 -- General observations on the conduct of the British

King and Parliament after the intelligence of the capture of Lord
Cornwallis and his army. King's speech. Address of thanks opposed.
Proposition by Sir Thomas Pitt to withhold supplies from the Crown.
Vote carried in favor of granting supplies. General Burgoyne defends
the American opposition to the measures of the Court. Variety of
desultory circumstances discussed in Parliament.

 Chapter 24 -- Naval transactions. Rupture between England and

France opened in the Bay of Biscay. Admiral Keppel. Serapis and the
Countess of Scarborough captured by Paul Jones. The protection
given him by the States-General resented by the British Court.
Transactions in the West Indies. Sir George Bridges Rodney returns
to England after the capture of St. Eustatia. Sent out again the
succeeding year. Engages an defeats the French squadron under the
command of the Count de Grasse. Capture of the Ville de Paris. The
Count de Grasse sent to England. Admiral Rodney created a peer of
the realm on his return to England.
 Chapter 25 -- Continuation of naval rencounters. Affair of Count
Byland. Sir Hyde Parker and Admiral Zeutman. Commodore
Johnstone ordered to the Cape of Good Hope. Admiral Kempenfelt.
Loss of the Royal George. Baron de Rullincort's expedition to the Isle
of Jersey. Capture of Minorca. Gibraltar again besieged, defended,
and relieved. Mr. Adams's negotiations with the Dutch provinces.

 Chapter 26 -- General uneasiness with ministerial measures in

England, Scotland, and Ireland. Loud complaints against the Board of
Admiralty. Sir Hyde Parker resigns his commission. Motion for an
address for peace by General Conway. Resignation of Lord George
Germaine. Created a peer of the realm. Lord North resigns. Some
traits of his character. Petition of the city of London for peace.
Coalition of parties. A new ministry. Death and character of the
Marquis of Rockingham. Lord Shelburne's administration.
Negotiations for peace. Provisional articles signed. Temper of the
loyalists. Execution of Captain Huddy. Consequent imprisonment of
Captain Asgill. Asgill's release.

 Chapter 27 -- Discontents with the provisional articles. Mr. Hartley

sent to Paris. The definitive treaty agreed to and signed by all parties.
A general pacification among the nations at war. Mr. Pitt, Prime
Minister in England. His attention to East India affairs. Some
subsequent observations.

 Chapter 28 -- Peace proclaimed in America. General Carleton

delays the withdraw of the troops from New York. Situation of the
loyalists. Efforts in their favor by some gentlemen in Parliament. Their
final destination. Their dissatisfaction and subsequent conduct.

 Chapter 29 -- Conduct of the American army on the news of peace.

Mutiny and insurrection. Congress surrounded by a part of the
American army. Mutineers disperse. Congress removes to Princeton.
Order of Cincinnati. Observations thereon.

 Chapter 30 -- A survey of the situation of America on the conclusion

of the war with Britain. Observations on the Declaration of
Independence. Withdraw of the British troops from New York. A few
observations on the detention of the western posts. The American
army disbanded, after the commander in chief had addressed the
public and taken leave of his fellow soldiers. General Washington
resigns his commission to Congress.

 Chapter 31 --Supplementary observations on succeeding events,

after the termination of the American Revolution. Insurrection in the
Massachusetts. A general convention of the states. A new Constitution
adopted. General Washington chosen President. British treaty
negotiated by Mr. Jay. General Washington's second retreat from
public life. General observations

________________________________

"Troubled on every side perplexed, but not in despair, Persecuted, but

not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed."
St. Paul

"Oh God! thy arm was here And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all."

Shakespeare

Volume I

District of Massachusetts, to wit

Be it remembered, that on the eleventh day of February, in the thirtieth

year of the independence of the United States of America, Mercy
Warren, of the said district, has deposited in this office the title of a
book, the right whereof she claims as author, in the words following, to
wit: -- "History of the Rise, Progress and Termination of the American
Revolution. Interspersed with Biographical, Political and Moral
Observations. In Three Volumes. By Mrs. Mercy Warren, of Plymouth,
Mass."

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled,

"An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of
maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such
copies, during the times therein mentioned;" and also to an act,
entitled "An act supplementary to an act, entitled, 'An act for the
encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts,
and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the
times therein mentioned;' and extending the benefits thereof to the
arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints."

N. Goodie, Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. A true copy of

record. Attest: N. Goodale, clerk

__________________________

An Address to the Inhabitants of the United States of America

At a period when every manly arm was occupied, and every trait of
talent or activity engaged, either in the cabinet or the field,
apprehensive, that amidst the sudden convulsions, crowded scenes,
and rapid changes, that flowed in quick succession, many
circumstances might escape the more busy and active members of
society, I have been induced to improve the leisure Providence had
lent, to record as they passed, in the following pages, the new and
inexperienced events exhibited in a land previously blessed with
peace, liberty, simplicity, and virtue.

As circumstances were collected, facts related, and characters drawn,

many years antecedent to any history since published, relative to the
dismemberment of the colonies, and to American independence,
there are few allusions to any later writers.
Connected by nature, friendship, and every social tie, with many of the
first patriots, and most influential characters on the continent; in the
habits of confidential and epistolary intercourse with several
gentlemen employed abroad in the most distinguished stations, and
with others since elevated to the highest grades of rank and
distinction, I had the best means of information, through a long period
that the colonies were in suspense, waiting the operation of foreign
courts, and the success of their own enterprising spirit.

The solemnity that covered every countenance, when contemplating

the sword uplifted, and the horrors of civil war rushing to habitations
not inured to scenes of rapine and misery; even to the quiet cottage,
where only concord and affection had reigned; stimulated to
observation a mind that had not yielded to the assertion, that all
political attentions lay out of the road of female life.

It is true there are certain appropriate duties assigned to each sex;

and doubtless it is the more peculiar province of masculine strength,
not only to repel the bold invader of the rights of his country and of
mankind, but in the nervous style of manly eloquence, to describe the
blood-stained field, and relate the story of slaughtered armies.

Sensible of this, the trembling heart has recoiled at the magnitude of

the undertaking, and the hand often shrunk back from the talk; yet,
recollecting that every

domestic enjoyment depends on the unimpaired possession of civil

and religious liberty, that a concern for the welfare of society ought
equally to glow in every human breast, the work was not relinquished.
The most interesting circumstances were collected, active characters
portrayed, the principles of the times developed, and the changes
marked; nor need it cause a blush to acknowledge, a detail was
preserved with a view of the transmitting it to the rising youth of my
country, some of them in infancy, others in the European world, while
the most interesting events lowered over their native land.
Conscious that truth has been the guide of my pen, and candor, as
well as justice, the accompaniment of my wishes through every page,
I can say, with an ingenious writer, "I have used my pen with the
liberty of one, who neither hopes nor fears, nor has any interest in the
success or failure of any party, and who speaks to posterity --
perhaps very far remote."

The sympathizing heart has looked abroad and wept the many victims
of affliction, inevitably such in consequence of civil feuds and the
concomitant miseries of war, either foreign or domestic. The reverses
of life, and the instability of the world, have been viewed on the point
in both extremes. Their delusory nature and character, have been
contemplated as becomes the philosopher and the Christian: the one
teaches us from the analogies of nature, the necessity of changes,
decay, and death; the other strengthens the mind to meet them with
the rational hope of revival and renovation.

Several years have elapsed since the historical tracts, now with
diffidence submitted to the public, have been arranged in their
present order. Local circumstances, the decline of health, temporary
deprivations of sight, the death of the most amiable of children, "the
shaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was slain," have sometimes
prompted to throw the pen in despair. I draw a veil over the woe-
fraught scenes that have pierced my own heart. "While the soul was
melting inwardly, it has endeavored to support outwardly, with
decency and dignity, those accidents which admit of new redress,
and to exert that spirit that enables to get the better of those that do."

Not indifferent to the opinion of the world, nor servilely courting its
smiles, no further apology is offered for the attempt, though many
may be necessary, for the incomplete execution of a design, that had
rectitude for its basis, and a beneficent regard for the civil and
religious rights of mankind, for its motive.
The liberal-minded will peruse with candor, rather than criticize with
severity; nor will they think it necessary that any apology should be
offered for sometimes introducing characters nearly connected with
the author of the following annals; as they were early and zealously
attached to the public cause, uniform in their principles, and
constantly active in the great scenes that produced the revolution, and
obtained independence for their country, truth precludes that reserve
which might have been proper on less important occasions, and
forbids to pass over in silence the names of such as expired before
the conflict was finished, or have since retired from public scenes.
The historian has never laid aside the tenderness of the sex or the
friend; at the same time, she has endeavored, on all occasions, that
the strictest veracity should govern her heart, and the most exact
impartiality be the guide of her pen.

If the work should be so far useful or entertaining, as to obtain the

sanction of the generous and virtuous part of the community, I cannot
but be highly gratified and amply rewarded for the effort, soothed at
the same time with the idea that the motives were justifiable in the
eye of Omniscience. Then, if it should not escape the remarks of the
critic, or the censure of party, I shall feel no wound to my sensibility,
but repose on my pillow as quietly as ever --

"While all the distant din the world can keep, Rolls o'er my grotto, and
but soothes my sleep."

Before this address to my countrymen is closed, I beg leave to

observe, that as a new century has dawned upon us, the mind is
naturally led to contemplate the great events that have run parallel
with and have just closed the last. From the revolutionary spirit of the
times, the vast improvements in science, arts, and agriculture, the
boldness of genius that marks the age, the investigation of new
theories, and the change in the political, civil, and religious characters
of men, succeeding generations have reason to expect still more
astonishing exhibitions in the next. In the mean time, Providence has
clearly pointed out the duties of the present generation, particularly
the paths which Americans ought to tread. The United States form a
young republic, a confederacy which ought ever to be cemented by a
union of interests and affection, under the influence of those
principles which obtained their independence. These have indeed, at
certain periods, appeared to be in the wane; but let them never be
eradicated, by the jarring interests of parties, jealousies of the sister
states, or the ambition of individuals! It has been observed, by a
writer of celebrity [Paley's Moral Philosophy], that "that people,
government, and constitution is the freest, which makes the best
provision for the enacting of expedient and salutary laws." May this
truth be evinced to all ages, by the wise and salutary laws that shall
be enacted in the federal legislature of America!

May the hands of the executive of their own choice, be strengthened

more by the unanimity and affection of the people, than by the dread
of penal infliction, or any restraints that might repress free inquiry,
relative to the principles of their own government, and the conduct of
its administrators! The world is now viewing America, as
experimenting a new system of government, a FEDERAL REPUBLIC,
including a territory to which the Kingdoms of Great Britain and
Ireland bear little proportion. The practicability of supporting such a
system has been doubted by some; if she succeeds, it will refute the
assertion that none but small states are adapted to republican
government; if she does not, and the union should be dissolved,
some ambitious son of Columbia, or some foreign adventurer, allured
by the prize, may wade to empire through seas of blood, or the
friends of monarchy may see a number of petty despots, stretching
their scepters over the disjointed parts of the continent. Thus by the
mandate of a single sovereign, the degraded subjects of one state,
under the bannerets of royalty may be dragged to sheathe their
swords in the bosoms of the inhabitants of another.

The state of the public mind appears at present to be prepared to

weigh these reflections with solemnity and to receive with pleasure an
effort to trace the origin of the American Revolution, to review the
characters that effected it, and to justify the principles of the defection
and final separation from the parent state. With an expanded heart,
beating with high hopes of the continued freedom and prosperity of
America, the writer indulges a modest expectation that the following
pages will be perused with kindness and candor: this she claims both
in consideration of her sex, the uprightness of her intentions, and the
fervency of her wishes for the happiness of all the human race.

Mercy Warren, Plymouth, Mass., March, 1805

____________________________

Volume One

Chapter One: Introductory Observations

History, the deposit of crimes, and the record of everything disgraceful

or honorary to mankind, requires a just knowledge of character, to
investigate the sources of action; a clear comprehension, to review
the combination of causes; and precision of language, to detail the
events that have produced the most remarkable revolutions.

To analyze the secret springs that have effected the progressive

changes in society; to trace the origin of the various modes of
government, the consequent improvements in science, in morality, or
the national tincture that marks the manners of the people under
despotic or more liberal forms, is a bold and adventurous work.

The study of the human character opens at once a beautiful and a

deformed picture of the soul. We there find a noble principle implanted
in the nature of man, that pants for distinction. This principle operates
in every bosom, and when kept under the control of reason, and the
influence of humanity, it produces the most benevolent effects. But
when the checks of conscience are thrown aside, or the moral sense
weakened by the sudden acquisition of wealth or power, humanity is
obscured, and if a favorable coincidence of circumstances permits,
this love of distinction often exhibits the most mortifying instances of
profligacy, tyranny, and the wanton exercise of arbitrary sway. Thus
when we look over the theater of human action, scrutinize the
windings of the heart, and survey the transactions of man from the
earliest to the present period, it must be acknowledged that ambition
and avarice are the leading springs which generally actuate the
restless mind. From these primary sources of corruption have arisen
all the rapine and confusion, the depredation and ruin, that have
spread distress over the face of the earth from the days of Nimrod to
Caesar, and from Caesar to an arbitrary prince of the house of
Brunswick.

The indulgence of these turbulent passions has depopulated cities,

laid waste the finest territories, and turned the beauty and harmony of
the lower creation into an aceldama. Yet candor must bear honorable
testimony to many signal instances of disinterested merit among the
children of men; thus it is not possible to pronounce decidedly on the
character of the politician or the statesman till the winding up of the
drama. To evince the truth of this remark, it is needless to adduce
innumerable instances of deception both in ancient and modern story.
It is enough to observe, that the specious Augustus established
himself in empire by the appearance of justice, clemency, and
moderation, while the savage Nero shamelessly weltered in the blood
of the citizens; but the sole object of each was to become the
sovereign of life and property, and to govern the Roman world with a
despotic hand.

Time may unlock the cabinets of princes, unfold the secret

negotiations of statesmen, and hand down the immortal characters of
dignified worth, or the blackened traits of finished villainy in
exaggerated colors. But truth is most likely to be exhibited by the
general sense of contemporaries, when the feelings of the heart can
be expressed without suffering itself to be disguised by the prejudices
of man. Yet it is not easy to convey to posterity a just idea of the
embarrassed situation of the

western world, previous to the rupture with Britain; the

dismemberment of the empire, and the loss of the most industrious,
flourishing, and perhaps virtuous colonies, ever planted by the hand of
man.

The progress of the American Revolution has been so rapid and such
the alteration of manners, the blending of characters, and the new
train of ideas that almost

universally prevail, that the principles which animated to the noblest

exertions have been nearly annihilated. Many who first stepped forth
in vindication of the rights of human nature are forgotten, and the
causes which involved the thirteen colonies in confusion and blood
are scarcely known, amidst the rage of accumulation and the taste for
expensive pleasures that have since prevailed; a taste that has
abolished that mediocrity which once satisfied, and that contentment
which long smiled in every countenance. Luxury, the companion of
young acquired wealth, is usually the consequence of opposition to, or
close connection with, opulent commercial states. Thus the hurry of
spirits, that ever attends the eager pursuit of fortune and a passion for
splendid enjoyment, leads to forgetfulness; and thus the inhabitants of
America cease to look back with due gratitude and respect on the
fortitude and virtue of their ancestors, who, through difficulties almost
insurmountable, planted them in a happy foil. But the historian and the
philosopher will ever venerate the memory of those pious and
independent gentlemen, who, after suffering innumerable impositions,
restrictions, and penalties, less for political, than theological opinions,
left England, not as adventurers for wealth or fame, but for the quiet
enjoyment of religion and liberty.

The love of domination and an uncontrolled lust of arbitrary power

have prevailed among all nations and perhaps in proportion to the
degrees of civilization. They have been equally conspicuous in the
decline of Roman virtue, and in the dark pages of British story. It was
these principles that overturned that ancient republic. It was these
principles that frequently involved England in civil feuds. It was the
resistance to them that brought one of their monarchies to the block,
and struck another from his throne. It was the prevalence of them that
drove the first settlers of America from elegant habitations and affluent
circumstances, to seek an asylum in the cold and uncultivated regions
of the western world. Oppressed in Britain by despotic kinds, and
persecuted by prelatic fury, they fled to a distant country, where the
desires of men were bounded by the wants of nature; where
civilization had not created those artificial cravings which too
frequently break over every moral and religious tie for their
gratification.

The tyranny of the Stuart race has long been proverbial in English
story: their efforts to establish an arbitrary system of government
began with the weak and bigoted

reign of James the first, and were continued until the excision of his
son Charles. The contest between the British parliament and this
unfortunate monarch arose to such a height, as to augur an alarming
defection of many of the best subjects in England. Great was their
uneasiness at the state of public affairs, the arbitrary stretch of power,
and the obstinacy of King Charles, who pursued his own despotic
measures in spite of the opposition of a number of gentlemen in
parliament attached to the liberties and privileges of Englishmen. Thus
a sprit of emigration adopted in the preceding reign began to spread
with great rapidity through the nation. Some gentlemen endowed with
talents to defend their rights by the most cogent and resistless
arguments were among the number who had taken the alarming
resolution of seeking an asylum far from their natal soil, where they
might enjoy the rights and privileges they claimed, and which they
considered on the eve of annihilation at home. Among these were
Oliver Cromwell, afterwards protector, and a number of other
gentlemen of distinguished name, who had actually engaged to
embark for New England. This was a circumstance so alarming to the
court, that they were stopped by an order of government, and by royal
edict all further emigration was forbidden. The spirit of colonization
was not however much impeded, nor the growth of the young
plantations prevented, by the arbitrary resolutions of the court. It was
but a short time after this effort to check them, before numerous
English emigrants were spread along the borders of the Atlantic from
Plymouth to Virginia.

The independence with which these colonists acted; the high promise
of future advantage from the beauty and fertility of the country; and, as
was observed soon

after, "the prosperous state of their settlements, made it to be

considered by the heads of the puritan party in England, many of
whom were men of the first rank, fortune and abilities as "the
sanctuary of liberty." (Universal History) The order above alluded to,
indeed prevented the embarkation of the Lords Say and Brook, the
Earl of Warwick, of Hampden, Pym, and many others, who despairing
of recovering their civil and religious liberty on their native shore, had
determined to secure it by a retreat to the New World, as it was then
called. Patents were purchased by others, within a short period after
the present, who planted the thirteen American colonies with a
successful hand. Many circumstances concurred to awaken the spirit
of adventure, and to draw out men, inured to foster habits, to
encounter the difficulties and dangers of planting themselves and
families in the wilderness.

The spirit of party had thrown accumulated advantages into the hands
of Charles the second, after his restoration. The divisions and
animosities at court rendered it more easy for him to pursue the same
system which his father had adopted. Amidst the rage for pleasure,
and the licentious manners that prevailed in his court, the
complaisance of one party, the fears of another, and the weariness of
all, of the dissensions and difficulties that had arisen under the
protectorship of Cromwell, facilitated the measures of the high
monarchists, who continually improved their advantages to enhance
the prerogatives of the crown. The weak and bigoted conduct of his
brother James increased the general uneasiness of the nation, until
his abdication. Thus, through every successive reign of this line of the
Stuarts, the colonies gained additional strength, by continual
emigrations to the young American settlements.

The first colony of Europeans, permanently planted in North America,

was by a handful of roving strangers, sickly, and necessitated to
debark on the first land, where there was any promise of a quiet
subsistence. Amidst the despotism of the first branch of the house of
Stuart, on the throne of Britain, and the ecclesiastical persecutions in
England, which sent many eminent characters abroad, a small
company of dissenters from the national establishment left England,
under the pastoral care of the pious and learned Mr. Robinson, and
resided a short time in Holland, which they left in the beginning of
autumn, 1620.

After a long and hazardous voyage, they landed on the borders of an

inhospitable wilderness, in the dreary month of December, amidst the
horrors of a North American winter. (see Note 1 at the end of this
chapter) They were at first received by the savage inhabitants of the
country with a degree of simple humanity:

They smoked with them the calumet of peace; purchased a tract of

the uncultivated waste; hutted on the frozen shore, sheltered only by
the lofty forest, that had been left for ages to thicken under the rude
hand of time. From this small beginning was laid the stable
foundations of those extensive settlements, that have since spread
over the fairest quarter of the globe.

Virginia, indeed, had been earlier discovered by Sir Walter Raleigh,

and a few men left there by him, to whom additions under various
adventurers were afterwards made; but, by a series of misfortunes
and misconduct, the plantation had fallen into such disorder and
distress that the enterprise was abandoned. The fate of those left
there by this great and good man has never been known with
certainty: It is probable that most of them were murdered by the
savages; and the remnant, if any there were, became incorporated
with the barbarous nations.

There was afterwards a more successful effort for the settlement of a

colony in Virginia. In the beginning of the seventeenth century Lord
Delaware was appointed governor, and with him a considerable
number of emigrants arrived from England. But his health was not
equal to a residence in a rude and uncultivated wilderness; he soon
returned to his native country, but left his son, with Thomas Gates and
several other enterprising gentlemen, who pursued the project of an
establishment in Virginia, and began to build a town on James River,
in the year 1606. Thus was that state entitled to the prescriptive term
of the Old Dominion, which it still retains. But their difficulties,
misfortunes and disappointments, long prevented any permanent
constitution or stable government, and they scarcely deserved the
appellation of a regular colony, until a considerable time after the
settlement in Plymouth, in 1620.

The discovery of the New World had opened a wide field of enterprise,
and several other previous attempts had been made by Europeans to
obtain settlements therein; yet little of a permanent nature was
effected, until the patience and perseverance of the Leyden sufferers
laid the foundation of social order.

This small company of settlers, after wandering some time on the

frozen shore, fixed themselves at the bottom of the Massachusetts
Bay. Though dispirited by innumerable discouraging circumstances,
they immediately entered into engagements with each other to form
themselves into a regular society, and drew up a covenant, by which
they bound themselves to submit to order and subordination.
Their jurisprudence was marked with wisdom and dignity, and their
simplicity and piety were displayed equally in the regulation of their
police, the nature of their contracts and the punctuality of observance.
The old Plymouth colony remained for some time a distinct
government. They chose their own magistrates, independent of all
foreign control; but a few years involved them with the Massachusetts,
of which, Boston, more recently settled than Plymouth, was the
capital.

From the local situation of a country, separated by an ocean of a

thousand leagues from the parent state, and surrounded by a world of
savages, an immediate compact with the King of Great Britain was
thought necessary. Thus, a charter was early granted, stipulating on
the part of the crown, that the Massachusetts should have a legislative
body within itself, composed of three branches, and subject to no
control, except his majesty's negative, within a limited term, to any
laws formed by their assembly that might be thought to militate with
the general interest of the realm of England. The governor was
appointed by the crown, the representative body, annually chosen by
the people, and the council elected by the representatives from the
people at large.

Though more liberal charters were granted to some of the colonies,

which, after the first settlement at Plymouth, rapidly spread over the
face of this new discovered

country, yet modes of government nearly similar to that of

Massachusetts were established in most of them, except Maryland
and Pennsylvania, which were under the direction of particular
proprietors. But the corrupt principles which had been fashionable in
the voluptuous and bigoted courts of the Stuarts, soon followed the
emigrants in their distant retreat, and interrupted the establishments of
their civil police; which, it may be observed, were a mixture of Jewish
theocracy, monarchic government, and the growing principles of
republicanism, which had taken root in Britain as early as the days of
Elizabeth.

It soon appeared that there was a strong party in England, who

wished to govern the colonists with a rigorous hand. They discovered
their inclinations by repeated attempts to procure a revision, an
alteration, and a resumption of charters, on the most frivolous
pretenses.

It is true, an indiscreet zeal, with regard to several religious sectaries,

which had early introduced themselves into the young settlements,
gave a pretext to some severities from the parent state. But the
conduct of the first planters of the American colonies has been held up
by some ingenious writers in too ludicrous a light. Yet while we admire
their persevering and self-denying virtues, we must acknowledge that
the illiberality and weakness of some of their municipal regulations
has cast a shade over the memory of men, whose errors arose more
from the fashion of the times, and the dangers which threatened them
from every side, than from any deficiency either in the head or the
heart. But the treatment of the Quakers in the Massachusetts can
never be justified either by the principles of policy or humanity.
[However censurable the early settlers in New England were, in their
severities towards the Quakers and other non-conformists, they might
think their conduct in some degree sanctioned by the example of their
parent state, and the rigors exercised in other parts of the European
world at that time, against all denominations which differed from the
religious establishments of government.] The demeanor of these
people was, indeed, in many instances, not only ridiculous, but
disorderly and atrocious; yet an indelible stain will be left on the
names of those, who adjudged to imprisonment, confiscation and
death, a sect made considerable only by opposition.

In the story of the sufferings of these enthusiasts, there has never

been a just discrimination between the sectaries denominated
Quakers, who first visited the New England settlements, and the
associates of the celebrated Penn, who having received a patent from
the crown of England, fixed his residence on the borders of the

Delaware. He there reared, with astonishing rapidity, a flourishing,

industrious colony, on the most benevolent principles. The equality of
their condition, the mildness of their deportment, and the simplicity of
their manners, encouraged the emigration of husbandmen, artisans
and manufacturers from all parts of Europe. Thus was this colony
soon raised to distinguished eminence, though under a proprietary
government. [Mr. Penn published a system of government, on which it
has been observed, "that the introductory piece is perhaps the most
extraordinary compound that ever was published, of enthusiasm,
sound policy, and good sense." The author tells us, "It was adapted to
the great end of all government, viz. to support power in reverence
with the people, and to secure the people from the abuse of power."]
But the sectaries that infested the more eastern territory were
generally loose, idle and refractory, aiming to introduce confusion and
licentiousness rather than the establishment of any regular society.
Excluded from Boston, and banished the Massachusetts, they
repaired to a neighboring colony, less tenacious in religious opinion,
by which the growth of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations was
greatly facilitated.

The spirit of intolerance in the early stages of their settlements was

not confined to the New England puritans, as they have in derision
been styled. In Virginia, Maryland, and some other colonies, where
the votaries of the church of England were the stronger party, the
dissenters of every description were persecuted, with little less rigor
than had been experienced by the Quakers from the Presbyterians of
the Massachusetts. An act passed in the assembly of Virginia, in the
early days

of her legislation, making it penal "for any master of a vessel to bring a

Quaker into the province." "The inhabitants were inhibited from
entertaining any person of that denomination. They were imprisoned,
banished, and treated with every mark of severity short of death."
(History of Virginia).

It is natural to suppose a society of men who had suffered so much

from a spirit of religious bigotry, would have stretched a lenient hand
towards any who might differ from themselves, either in mode or
opinion, with regard to the worship of the Deity. But from a strange
propensity in human nature to reduce every thing within the vortex of
their own ideas, the same intolerant and persecuting spirit, from which
they had so recently fled, discovered itself in those bold adventurers,
who had braved the dangers of the ocean and planted themselves in
a wilderness, for the enjoyment of civil and religious liberty.

In the cool moments of reflection, both humanity and philosophy revolt

at the diabolical disposition, that has prevailed in almost every
country, to persecute such as either from education or principle, from
caprice or custom, refuse to subscribe to the religious creed of those,
who, by various adventitious circumstances, have acquired a degree
of superiority or power.

It is rational to believe that the benevolent Author of nature designed

universal happiness as the basis of his works. Nor is it unphilosophical
to suppose the difference in human sentiment, and the variety of
opinions among mankind, may conduce to this end. They may be
permitted, in order to improve the faculty of thinking, to

draw out the powers of the mind, to exercise the principles of candor,
and learn us to wait, in a becoming manner, the full disclosure of the
system of divine government. Thus probably, the variety in the
formation of the human soul may appear to be such, as to have
rendered it impossible for mankind to think exactly in the same
channel. The contemplative and liberal minded man must, therefore,
blush for the weakness of his own species, when he sees any of them
endeavoring to circumscribe the limits of virtue and happiness within
his own contracted sphere, too often darkened by superstition and
bigotry.
The modern improvements in society, and the cultivation of reason,
which has spread its benign influence over both the European and the
American world, have nearly eradicated this persecuting spirit; and we
look back, in both countries, mortified and ashamed of the illiberality of
our ancestors. Yet such is the elasticity of the human mind, that when
it has been long bent beyond a certain line of propriety, it frequently
flies off to the opposite extreme. Thus there may be danger, that in the
enthusiasm for toleration, indifference to all religion take place. [Since
these annals were written this observation has been fully verified in
the impious sentiments and conduct of several members of the
national Convention of France, who, after the dissolution of monarchy,
and the abolition of the privileged orders, were equally zealous for the
destruction of the altars of God, and the annihilation of all religion.]
Perhaps few will deny that religion, viewed merely in a political light, is
after all the best cement of society, the great barrier of just
government, and the only certain restraint of the passions, those
dangerous inlets to licentiousness and anarchy.

It has been observed by an ingenious writer, that there are proselytes

from atheism, but none from superstition. Would it not be more just to
reverse the observation? The narrowness of superstition frequently
wears off, by an intercourse with the world, and the subjects become
useful members of society. But the hardiness of atheism sets at
defiance both human and divine laws, until the man is lost to himself
and to the world.

A cursory survey of the religious state of America, in the early stages

of colonization, requires no apology. It is necessary to observe, the
animosities which arose among themselves on external forms of
worship, and different modes of thinking, were most unfortunate
circumstances for the infant settlements; more especially while kept in
continual alarm by the natives of the vast uncultivated wilds, who soon
grew jealous of their new inmates. It is true that Massasoit, the
principal chief of the north, had received the strangers with the same
mildness and hospitality that marked the conduct of Montezuma at the
south, on the arrival of the Spaniards in his territories. Perhaps the
different demeanor of their sons, Philip and Guatimozin, was not

the result of more hostile of heroic dispositions than their fathers

possessed. It more probably arose from an apprehension of the
invasion of their rights, after time had given them a more perfect
knowledge of the temper of their guests.

It may be a mistake, that man, in a state of nature, is more disposed

to cruelty than courtesy. Many instances might be adduced to prove
the contrary. But when once awakened to suspicion, that either his life
or his interest is in danger, all the black passions of the mind, with
revenge in their rear, rise up in array. [A celebrated writer has
observed, that "moral evil is foreign to man, as well as physical evil;
that both the one and the other spring up out of deviations from the
law of nature."] It is an undoubted truth, that both the rude savage and
the polished citizen are equally tenacious of their pecuniary
acquisitions. And however mankind may have trifled away liberty,
virtue, religion, or life, yet when the first rudiments of society have
been established, the right of private property has been held sacred.
For an attempt to invade the possessions each one denominates his
own, whether it is made by the rude hand of the savage, or by the
refinements of ancient or modern policy, little short of the blood of the
aggressor has been thought a sufficient atonement. Thus, the
purchase of their commodities, the furs of the forest, and the
alienation of their lands for trivial considerations; the assumed
superiority of the Europeans; their knowledge of arts and war, and
perhaps their supercilious deportment towards the aborigines might
awaken in them just fears of extermination. Nor is it strange that the
natural principle of self-defense operated strongly in their minds, and
urged them to hostilities that often reduced the young colonies to the
utmost danger and distress.

But the innumerable swarms of the wilderness, who were not driven
back to the vast interior region, were soon swept off by the sword or
by sickness, which remarkably raged among them about the time of
the arrival of the English. [The Plymouth settlers landed the twenty-
second of December, but saw not an Indian until the thirty-first of
January. This was afterwards accounted for by information of
Samoset, an Indian chief who visited them, and told them the natives
on the borders had been all swept away by a pestilence that raged
among them three or four years before.] The few who remained were
quieted by treaty or by conquest: after which, the inhabitants of the
American colonies lived many years perhaps as near the point of
felicity as the condition of human nature will admit.

The religious bigotry of the first planters, and the temporary ferments it
had occasioned, subsided, and a spirit of candor and forbearance
every where took place. They seemed, previous to the rupture with
Britain, to have acquired that just and happy medium between the
ferocity of a state of nature, and those high stages of civilization and
refinement, that at once corrupt the heart and sap the foundation of
happiness. The sobriety of their manners and the purity of their morals
were exemplary; their piety and hospitality engaging; and the equal
and lenient administration of their government secured authority,
subordination, justice, regularity and peace. A well-informed yeomanry
and an enlightened peasantry evinced the early attention of the first
settlers to domestic education. Public schools were established in
every town, particularly in the eastern provinces, and as early as
1638, Harvard College was founded at Cambridge. [The elegant St.
Pierre has observed, that there are three periods through which most
nations pass; the first below nature, in the second they come up to
her, and in the third, go beyond her.]

In the southern colonies, it is true, there was not general attention to

early instruction; the children of the opulent planters only were
educated in England, while the less affluent were neglected, and the
common class of whites had little education above their slaves. Both
knowledge and property were more equally divided in the colder
regions of the north; consequently a spirit of more equal liberty was
diffused. While the almost spontaneous harvests of the warmer
latitudes, the great number of slaves thought necessary to secure
their produce, and the easy acquisition of fortune, nourished more
aristocratic principles. Perhaps it may be true, that wherever slavery is
encouraged, there are among the free inhabitants very high ideas of
liberty; though not so much from a sense of the common rights of
man, as from their own feelings of superiority.

Democratic principles are the result of equality of condition. A

superfluity of wealth, and a train of domestic slaves, naturally banish a
sense of general liberty, and nourish the seeds of that kind of
independence that usually terminates in aristocracy. Yet all America,
from the first emigrants to the present generation, felt an attachment
to the inhabitants, a regard to the interest, and a reverence for the
laws and government of England. Those writers who have observed,
that "these principles had scarcely any existence in the colonies at the
commencement of the late war," have certainly mistaken the character
of their country.

But unhappily both for Great Britain and America, the encroachments
of the crown had gathered strength by time; and after the successes,
the glory, and the demise of George the Second, the scepter
descended to a prince, bred under the auspices of a Scotch nobleman
of the house of Stuart. Nurtured in all the inflated ideas of kingly
prerogative, surrounded by flatterers and dependents, who always
swarm the purlieus of a place, this misguided sovereign, dazzled with
the acquisition of empire, in the morning of youth, and in the zenith of
national prosperity; more obstinate than cruel, rather weak than
remarkably wicked, considered an opposition to

the mandates of his ministers, as a crime of too daring a nature to

hope for the pardon of royalty.

Lord Bute, who from the preceptor of the prince in years of pupilage,
had become the director of the monarch on the throne of Britain,
found it not difficult, by the secret influence ever exercised by a
favorite minister, to bring over a majority of the House of Commons to
cooperate with the designs of the crown. Thus the parliament of
England became the mere creature of administration, and appeared
ready to leap the boundaries of justice, and to undermine the pillars of
their own constitution, by adhering steadfastly for several years to a
complicated system of tyranny, that threatened the new world with a
yoke unknown to their fathers.

It had ever been deemed essential to the preservation of the boasted

liberties of Englishmen, that no grants of moneys should be made, by
tolls, talliage, excise, or any other way, without the consent of the
people by their representative voice. Innovation in a point so
interesting might well be expected to create a general ferment through
the American provinces. Numberless restrictions had been laid on the
trade of the colonies previous to this period, and every method had
been taken to check their enterprising spirit, and to prevent the growth
of their manufactures. Nor is it surprising, that loud complaints should
be made when heavy exactions were laid on the subject, who had not,
and whose local situation rendered it impracticable that he should
have, an equal representation in parliament.

What still heightened the resentment of the Americans, in the

beginning of the great contest, was the reflection, that they had not
only always supported their own internal government with little
expense to Great Britain; but while a friendly union existed, they had,
on all occasions, exerted their utmost ability to comply with every
constitutional requisition from the parent sate. We need not here
revert further back than the beginning of the reign of George III, to
prove this, though earlier instances might be adduced.

The extraordinary exertions of the colonies, in cooperation with British

measures, against the French, in the late war, were acknowledged by
the British parliament to be more than adequate to their ability. After
the successful expedition to Louisburg, in 1745, the sum of 200,000
pounds sterling was voted by the commons, as a compensation to
some of the colonies for their vigorous efforts, which were carried
beyond their proportional strength, to aid the expedition.

Not contented with the voluntary aids they had from time to time
received from the colonies, and grown giddy with the luster of their
own power, in the plenitude of human grandeur, to which the nation
had arrived in the long and successful reign of George II, such weak,
impolitic and unjust measures were pursued, on the accession of his
grandson, as soon threw the whole empire into the most violent
convulsions.

A more particular narrative of the first settlement of America; their

wars with the natives; their distresses at home; their perplexities
abroad; and their disputes with the parent state, relative to grants,
charters, privileges and limits, may be seen in the accounts of every
historical writer on the state of the colonies. [These researches have
been satisfactorily made by several literary gentlemen, whose talents
were equal to the task.] As this is not comprehended in the design of
the present work, the reader is referred to more voluminous, or more
minute descriptions of the events preceding the transactions which
brought forward a revolution, that emancipated the colonies from the
domination of the scepter of Britain. This is a story of so much interest
to the minds of every son and daughter of America, endowed with the
ability of reflecting, that they will not reluctantly hasten to the detail of
transactions, that have awakened the attention and expectation of the
millions among the nations beyond the Atlantic.

********************************

Note 1

The reader's curiosity may be gratified by the perusal of a few

particulars relative to the Plymouth settlers, from their earliest
memorials. One hundred and one persons left Holland, all of whom
arrived at Plymouth in the month of December, 1620. From the
sufferings and hardships they sustained, more than half their number
died before the end of March, 1621.

On the borders of a forlorn wilderness, without any governmental

restrictions, they thought it necessary to adopt some measures for
order and subordination. They voluntarily on their arrival at Cape Cod,
entered into covenant for this necessary purpose. It was a short code,
but replete with rules of equity and authority, sufficient to maintain
peace among themselves, in their infant state. Forty-one persons
affixed their names to the instrument; but at the end of four months,
only twenty of them were living. These were, John Carver, their first
governor, William Bradford the second, and Edward Winslow the third
[Prince's Chronology, where may be found most of the particulars
extant, relative to the first settlers at Plymouth], Captain Miles
Standish, who had been an experienced military officer in the
Netherlands, Richard Warren, eminently useful in the establishment of
the new colony (he lived only to the year 1628) [The estates first
purchased of the natives by Winslow, Warren, and Bradford, remain in
the hands of their posterity to this day -- Warren at Plymouth, Bradford
at Duxborough, and Winslow at Marshfield] , John Alden, Samuel
Fuller, William Brewster, Isaac Allerton, Stephen Hopkins, Gilbert
Winslow, Peter Brown, Richard Gardner, John Howland, Francis
Cook, John Billington, Francis Eaton, Edward Doty, George Soule,
Edward Leister.

Several weeks elapsed after their arrival at Plymouth, before they saw
any of the natives. About the middle of March, an Indian chief named
Samoset appeared, and abruptly exclaimed, "Welcome English." This
Indian had formerly been a prisoner to some Europeans, and had
learnt a little of their language. By him they found that a pestilence
had raged among the bordering nations, that had swept them all off
within the limits of Cape Cod and Braintree Bay, two or three years
before. This was corroborate by the vast number of graves, and
sepulchral mounds and holes they had observed, in which the dead
were interred, in all the grounds they had explored. Somoset informed
them, that Massasoit was a neighboring chief, who held jurisdiction
over several other tribes. This induced the English to send him a
friendly message by Samoset, which was faithfully delivered. The
great sachem soon came forward in an amicable manner, and entered
into a treaty of peace with

this handful of strangers.

In the next autumn, an addition of thirty-five persons from the Leyden

congregation, arrived at Cape Code. They soon found their associates
at Plymouth, patient, pious, and contented, though they could set
nothing on their board but a lobster, cold water, and a scanty pittance
of Indian bread, of the entertainment of their

countrymen recently arrived, to share with them the difficulties and

dangers of planting settlements in the wilderness, at a vast distance
from the civilized world, and surrounded by hordes of hostile nations
of terrific form and barbarous manners. (New England Memorial).

_______________

Chapter Two: The Stamp Act. A Congress convened at New York,

1765. The Stamp Act repealed. New grievances. Suspension of the
legislature of New York.

The project of an American taxation might have been longer

meditated, but the memorable era of the Stamp Act, in 1764, was the
first innovation that gave a general alarm throughout the continent. By
this extraordinary act, a certain duty was to be levied on all bonds,
bills of lading, public papers, and writings of every kind, for the
express purpose of raising a revenue to the crown. As soon as this
intelligence was transmitted to America, a universal murmur
succeeded; and while the judicious and penetrating through it time to
make a resolute stand against the encroachments of power, the
resentment of the lower classes broke out into such excesses of riot
and tumult as prevented the operation of the favorite project.

Multitudes assembled in the principal towns and cities, and the

popular torrent bore down all before it. The houses of some, who
were the avowed abettors of the measure, and of others who were
only suspected as inimical to the liberties of America, in Boston, in
Newport, Connecticut, and many other places, were razed to the
ground. The commissioners of the Stamp Office were everywhere
compelled to renounce their employments and to enter into the most
solemn engagements to make no further attempts to act in this
obnoxious business. At New York the act was printed and cried about
the streets under the title of "The folly of England, and the ruin of
America." In Philadelphia the cannon were spiked up and the bells of
the city, muffled, tolled from morning to evening, and every testimony
of sincere mourning was displayed on the arrival of the stamp papers.
Nor were any of the more southern colonies less opposed to the
operation of this act; and the House of Burgesses, in Virginia, was the
first who formally resolved against the encroachments of power and
the unwarrantable designs of the British Parliament.

The novelty of their procedure and the boldness of spirit that marked
the resolutions of that assembly at once astonished and disconcerted
the officers of the crown and the supporters of the measures of
administration. These resolves were ushered into the house May 30,
1765 by Patrick Henry, esquire, a young gentleman of

the law, till then unknown in political life. He was a man possessed of
strong powers, much professional knowledge, and of such abilities as
qualified him for the exigencies of the day. Fearless of the cry of
"treason," echoed against him from several quarters, he justified the
measure and supported the resolves in a speech that did honor both
to his understanding and his patriotism. The governor, to check the
progress of such daring principles, immediately dissolved the
assembly. (see Note 2 at the end of this chapter).
But the disposition of the people was discovered when on a new
election those gentlemen were everywhere re-chosen who had
shown the most firmness and zeal in opposition to the Stamp Act.
Indeed, from New Hampshire to the Carolinas, a general aversion
appeared against this experiment of administration. Nor was the
flame confined to the continent. I had spread to the insular regions,
whose inhabitants, constitutionally more sanguine than those born in
colder climates, discovered stronger marks of resentment and
prouder tokens of disobedience to ministerial authority. Thus several
of the West India islands showed equal violence in the destruction of
the stamp papers, disgust at the act, and indignation toward the
officers who were bold enough to attempt its execution. Nor did they
at this period appear less determined to resist the operation of all
unconstitutional mandates, than the generous planters of the
southern or the independent spirits of the northern colonies.

When the general assembly of the Massachusetts met this year, it

appeared that most of the members of the house of representatives
had instructions from their constituents to make every legal and
spirited opposition to the distribution of the stamped papers, to the
execution of the act in any form, and to every other parliamentary
infringement on the rights of the people of the colonies. A specimen of
the spirit of the times may be seen in a single instance of those
instructions which were given to the representative of the town of
Plymouth, the capital of the cold colony. Similar measures were
adopted in most of the other provinces. In consequence of which,
petitions from the respective assemblies, replete with the strongest
expressions of loyalty and affection to the kind and a regard to the
British nation were presented to his majesty through the hands of the
colonial agents. (see Note 3 at the end of this chapter)

The ferment was however too general, and the spirits of the people to
much agitated to wait patiently the result of their own applications. So
universal was the resentment and discontent of the people that the
more judicious and discrete characters were exceedingly
apprehensive that the general clamor might terminate in extremes of
anarchy Heavy duties had been laid on all goods imported from such
of the West India islands as did not belong to Great Britain. These
duties were to be paid into the exchequer and all penalties incurred
were to be recovered in the courts of vice admiralty, by the
determination of a single judge, without trial by jury, and the judge's
salary was to be paid out of the fruits of the forfeiture.

All remonstrances against this innovating system had hitherto been

without effect and in this period of suspense, apprehension and
anxiety, a general congress of delegates from the several provinces
was proposed by the honorable James Otis of Barnstable,
Massachusetts. He was a gentleman of great probity, experience,
and parliamentary abilities, whose religious adherence to the rights of
his country had distinguished him through a long course of years, in
which he had sustained some of the first offices in government. This
proposal, from a man of his acknowledged

judgment, discretion and firmness, was universally pleasing. The

measure was communicated to some of the principal members of the
two houses of assembly and immediately adopted, not only by
Massachusetts, but very soon after by most of the other colonies.
Thus originated the first congress ever convened in America by the
united voice of the people in order to justify their claims to the rights
of Englishmen and the privileges of the British constitution.

It has been observed that Virginia and Massachusetts made the first
opposition to parliamentary measures on different grounds. The
Virginians, in their resolves, came forward conscious of their own
independence and at once asserted their rights as men. The
Massachusetts generally founded their claims on the rights of British
subjects and the privileges of their English ancestors; but the era was
not far distant when the united colonies took the same ground, the
claim of native independence, regardless of charters of foreign
restrictions.
At a period when the taste and opinions of Americans were
comparatively pure and simple, while they possessed that
independence and dignity of mind, which is lost only by a multiplicity
of wants and interests, new scenes were opening, beyond the reach
of human calculation. At this important crisis the delegates appointed
from several of the colonies, to deliberate on the lowering aspect of
political affairs, met at New York, on the first Tuesday of October,
1765.

The moderate demands of this body, and the short period of its
existence discovered at once the affectionate attachment of its
members to the parent state and their dread of a general rupture,
which at that time universally prevailed. [Several of the colonies were
prevented from sending delegates to the congress in New York by the
royal governors, who would not permit the assemblies to meet.] They
stated their claims as subjects to the crown of Great Britain,
appointed agents to enforce them in the national councils, and
agreed on petitions for the repeal of the Stamp Act, which had sown
the seeds of discord throughout the colonies. The prayer of their
constituents was in a spirited, yet respectful manner, offered through
them to the king, lords, and commons of Great Britain. They then
separated, to wait the event. [See their petition in the records of the
congress at New York, in 1765.]. (see Note 4 at the end of this
chapter)

A majority of the principal merchants of the city of London, the opulent

West India proprietors, who resided in England, and most of the
manufacturing towns, through the kingdom, accompanied with similar
petitions, those offered by the congress convened at New York. In
consequence of the general aversion to the Stamp Act, the British
ministry were changed, in appearance, though the same men who
had fabricated the American system, still retained their influence on
the mind of the king, and in the councils of the nation. The
parliamentary debates of the winter of 1766, evinced the important
consequences expected from the decision of the question relative to
an American taxation. Warm and spirited arguments in favor of the
measure, energetic reasonings against it, with many sarcastic strokes
on administration from some of the prime orators in parliament
interested the hearers of every rank and description. Finally, in order
to quiet the public mind, the execution of the Stamp Act was
pronounced inexpedient by a majority of the house of commons, and
a bill passed for its repeal on March 18, 1766. But a clause was
inserted therein, holding up a parliamentary right to make laws binding
on the colonies in all cases whatsoever; and a kind of condition was
tacked to the repeal that compensation should be made to all who
had suffered either in person or property by the late riotous
proceedings.

A short-lived joy was diffused throughout America, even by this

delusive appearance of lenity. The people of every description
manifested the strongest desire that harmony might be re-established
between Great Britain and the colonies. Bonfires, illuminations, and
all the usual expressions of popular satisfaction were displayed on
the joyful occasion. Yes, amidst the demonstrations of this lively
gratitude, there were some who had sagacity enough to see that the
British ministry was not so much instigated by principles of equity, as
impelled by necessity. These deemed any relaxation in parliament an
act of justice, rather than favor, and felt more resentment for the
manner, than obligation for the design, of this partial repeal. Their
opinion was fully justified by the subsequent conduct of
administration.

When the assembly of Massachusetts met the succeeding winter,

there seemed to prevail a general disposition for peace; the sense of
injury was checked, and such a spirit of affection and loyalty
appeared that the two houses agreed to a bill for compensation to all
sufferers in the late times of confusion and riot. But they were careful
not to recognize a right in parliament to make such a requisition. They
ordered it to be entered on the journals of the house that "for the sake
of internal peace, they waved all debate and controversy, though
persuaded the delinquent sufferers had no just claim on the province:
That, influenced by a loyal regard to his majesty's recommendation
(not considering it as a requisition) and that, from a deference to the
opinions of some illustrious patrons of America in the house of
commons who had urged them to a compliance: They therefore
acceded to the proposal, though at the same time they considered it
a very reprehensible step in those who had suffered to apply for relief
to the parliament of Britain, instead of submitting to the justice and
clemency of their own legislature."

They made several other just and severe observations on the high-
toned speech of the governor who had said, "that the requisition of
the ministry was found on so much justice and humanity that it could
not be controverted." They inquired if the authority with which he
introduced the ministerial demand precluded all disputation about
complying with it, what freedom of choice they had left in the case?
They said, "With regard to the rest of your Excellency's speech, we
are constrained to observe that the general air and style of it savors
much more of an act of free grace and pardon than of a parliamentary
address to the two houses of assembly; and we most sincerely with
your excellency had been pleased to reserve it, if needful, for a
proclamation."

In the bill for compensation by the assembly of Massachusetts was

added a very offensive clause. A general pardon and oblivion was
granted to all offenders in the late confusion, tumults and riots. An
exact detail of these proceedings was transmitted to England. The
king and council disallowed the act as comprising in it a bill of
indemnity to the Boston rioters and ordered compensation made to
the late sufferers, without any supplementary conditions. No notice
was taken of this order, nor any alteration made in the act. The
money was drawn from the treasury of the province to satisfy the
claimants for compensation, and no farther inquiries were made
relative to the authors of the late tumultuary proceedings of the times,
when the minds of men had been wrought up to a ferment, beyond
the reach of all legal restraint.
The year 1766 had passed over without any other remarkable political
events. All colonial measures agitated in England were regularly
transmitted by the minister for the American department to the
several plantation governors, who on every communication
endeavored to enforce the operation of parliamentary authority by the
most sanguine injunctions of their own and a magnificent display of
royal resentment, on the smallest token of disobedience to ministerial
requisitions. But it will appear that through a long series of resolves
and messages, letters and petitions, which passed between the
parties previous to the commencement of hostilities, the watchful
guardians of American freedom never lost sight of the intrigues of their
enemies or the mischievous designs of such as were under the
influence of the crown on either side of the Atlantic.

It may be observed that the tranquility of the provinces had for some
time been interrupted by the innovating spirit of the British ministry,
instigated by a few prostitutes of power, nurtured in the lap of
American and bound by every tie of honor and gratitude to be faithful
to the interests of their country. The social enjoyments of life had long
been disturbed, the mind fretted, and the people rendered suspicious
when they saw some of their fellow citizens who did not hesitate at a
junction with the accumulated swarms of hirelings sent from Great
Britain to ravish from the colonies the rights they claimed both by
nature and by compact. That the hard hearted judges of admiralty
and the crowd of revenue officers that hovered bout the custom
houses should seldom be actuated by the principles of justice is not
strange. Peculation was generally the prime object of this class, and
the oaths they administered and the habits they encouraged were
favorable to every species of bribery and corruption. The rapacity
which instigated these descriptions of men had little check, while they
saw themselves upheld even by some governors of provinces. In this
grade, which ought ever to be the protectors of the rights of the
people, there were some who were total strangers to all ideas of
equity, freedom, or urbanity. It was observed at this time in a speech
before the house of commons by Colonel Barre that "to his certain
knowledge, some were promoted to the highest seats of honor in
America who were glad to fly to a foreign country, to escape being
brought to the bar of justice in their own." [Parliamentary debates for
1766.]

However injudicious the appointments to American departments might

be, the darling point of an American revenue was an object too
consequential to be relinquished either by the court at St. James's,
the plantation governors, or their mercenary adherents dispersed
through the continent. Besides these, there were several classes in
America who were at first exceedingly opposed to measures that
militated with the designs of administration -- some impressed by long
connection

were intimidated by her power and attached by affection to Britain.

Others, the true disciples of passive obedience, had real scruples of
conscience with regard to any resistance to the power that be. These,
whether actuated by affection or fear, by

principle or interested, formed a close combination with the colonial

governors, custom-house officers, and all in subordinate departments
who hung on the court for subsistence. By the tenor of the writings of
some of these and the insolent behavior of others, they became
equally obnoxious in the eyes of the people, with the officers of the
crown and the danglers for place, who, disappointed of their prey by
the repeal of the Stamp Act and restless for some new project that
might enable them to rise into importance on the spoils of America,
were continually whispering malicious insinuations into the ears of the
financiers and ministers of colonial departments.

They represented the mercantile body in America as a set of

smugglers, forever breaking over the laws of trade and of society; the
people in general as factious, turbulent, and aiming at independence;
the legislatures in the several provinces as marked with the same
spirit and government everywhere in so lax a state that the civil
authority was insufficient to prevent the fatal effects of popular
discontent. It is indeed true that resentment had in several instances
arisen to outrage and that the most unwarrantable excesses had
been committed on some occasions, which gave grounds for
unfavorable representations. Yet it must be acknowledged that the
voice of the people seldom breathes universal murmur, but when the
insolence or the oppression of their rulers extorts the bitter complaint.
On the contrary, there is a certain supineness which generally
overspreads the multitude and disposes mankind to submit quietly to
any form of government, rather than to be the expense and hazard of
resistance. They become attached to ancient modes by habits of
obedience, though the reins of authority are sometimes held by the
most rigorous hand. Thus we have seen in all ages the many become
the slaves of the few; preferring the wretched tranquility of inglorious
ease, they patiently yield to despotic masters, until awakened by
multiplied wrongs to the feelings of human nature; which when once
aroused to a consciousness of the native freedom and equal rights of
man, every revolts at the idea of servitude.

Perhaps the story of political revolution never exhibited a more

general enthusiasm in the cause of liberty, than that which for several
years pervaded all ranks in America and brought forward events little
expected by the most sanguine spirits in the beginning of the
controversy. A contest now pushed with so much bigotry, that the
intelligent yeomanry of the country, as well as those educated in the
higher walks, became convinced that nothing less than a systematical
plan of slavery was designed against them. They viewed the chains
as already forged to manacle the unborn millions; and though
everyone seemed to dread any new interruption of public tranquility,
the impetuosity of some led them into excesses which could not be
restrained by those of more cool and discreet deportment. To the
most moderate and judicious, it soon became apparent that unless a
timely and bold resistance prevented, the colonists must in a few
years sink into the same wretched thralldom that marks the miserable
Asiatic.

Few of the executive officers employed by the kind of Great Britain

and fewer of their adherents were qualified either by education,
principle, or inclination to allay the ferment of the times, or to
eradicate the suspicions of men who, from an hereditary love of
freedom, were tenderly touched by the smallest attempt to undermine
the invaluable possession. Yet, perhaps a few of the colonies at this
period suffered equal embarrassments with Massachusetts. The
inhabitants of that province were considered as the prime leaders of
faction, the disturbers of public tranquility, and Boston the seat of
sedition. Vengeance was continually denounced against that capital,
and indeed the whole province, through the letters, messages, and
speeches of their first magistrate.

Unhappily for both parties, Governor Bernard was very illy calculated
to promote the interest of the people, or support the honor of his
master. He was a man of little genius, but some learning. He was by
education strongly impressed with high ideas of canon and feudal
law, and fond of a system of government that had been long obsolete
in England and had never had an existence in America. His
disposition was choleric and sanguine, obstinate and designing, yet
too open and frank to disguise his intrigues, and too precipitant to
bring them to maturity. A revision of colony charters, a resumption of
former privileges, and an American revenue were the constant topics
of his letters to administration. [See his pamphlet on law and polity
and his letters to the British ministry, while he resided in
Massachusetts.] To prove the necessity of these measures, the most
trivial disturbance was magnified to a riot; and to give a pretext to
these wicked insinuations, it was thought by many that tumults were
frequently excited by the indiscretion or malignancy of his own
partisans.

The declaratory bill still hung suspended over the heads of the
Americans, nor was it suffered to remain long without trying its
operative effects. The clause holding up a right to tax American at
pleasure and "to bind them in all cases whatsoever" was
comprehensive and alarming. Yet it was not generally expected that
the ministry would soon endeavor to avail themselves of the
dangerous experiment; but, in this, the public were mistaken.

It was already been observed that the arbitrary disposition of George

III, the absurd system of policy adopted in conformity to his principles,
and a parliamentary majority at the command of the ministry rendered
it not difficult to enforce any measures that might tend to an
accession to the powers of the crown. It was a just sentiment of an
elegant writer that "almost all the vices of royalty have been principally
occasioned by a slavish adulation in the language of their subjects;
and to the shame of the English it must be said that none of the
enslaved nations in the world have addressed the throne in a more
fulsome and hyperbolical style." [Mrs. Macauley's letter to Earl
Stanhope.]

The dignity of the crown, the supremacy of parliament, and the

disloyalty of the colonies were the theme of the court, the echo of its
creatures, and of the British nation in general. Nor was it thought
good policy to let the high claims of government lie long in a dormant
state. Accordingly, not many months after the repeal of the Stamp
Act, the chancellor of the exchequer, Charles Townshend, Esquire,
came forward and pawned his character on the success of a new
attempt to tax the American colonies. He was a gentleman of
conspicuous abilities and much professional knowledge. Endowed
with more boldness than discretion, he had "the talent of bringing
together at once all that was necessary to establish, to illustrate, and
to decorate the side of the question he was on." [A writer has more
recently observed that Charles Townshend was a man of rising
parliamentary reputation and brilliant talents; but capricious,
insincere, intriguing, and wholly destitute of discretion or solidity.
Belsham on the reign of George III.]

He introduced several bills in support of his sanguinary designs, which

without much difficulty obtained the sanction of parliament and the
royal assent. The purport of this new project for revenue was to levy
certain duties on paper, glass, painters' colors, and several other
articles usually imported into America. It was also directed that the
duties on India teas, which had been a productive source of revenue
in England, should be taken off there, and three pence per pound
levied on all kinds that should in future be purchased in the colonies.

This inconsiderable duty on teas finally became an object of high

importance and altercation. It was not the sum, but the principle that
was contested. It manifestly appeared that this was only a
financiering expedient to raise a revenue from the colonies by
imperceptible taxes. The defenders of the privileges and the freedom
of the colonies, denied all parliamentary right to tax them in any way
whatever. They asserted that if the collection of this duty was
permitted, it would establish a precedent, and strengthen the claim
parliament had assumed to tax them at pleasure. To do it by the
secret modes of imposts and excises would ruin their trade, corrupt
the morals of the people, and was more abhorrent in their eyes than a
direct demand. The most judicious and intelligent Americans at this
time considered all imperceptible taxes fraught with evils that tended
to enslave any country plunged in the boundless chaos of fiscal
demands that this practice introduces.

In consequence of the new system, a board of customs was instituted

and commissioners appointed to set in Boston to collect the duties
which were besides other purposes to supply a fund for the payment
of the large salaries annexed to their office. A civil list was soon after
established and the governors of Massachusetts, judges of the
superior court, and such other officers as had heretofore depended on
the free grants of the representative body, were to be paid out of the
revenue chest.

Thus rendered wholly independent of the general assembly, there was

no check left on the wanton exercise of power in the crown officers,
however disposed they might be to abuse their trust. The distance
from the throne, it was said, must delay, if not wholly prevent, all relief
under any oppressions the people might suffer from the servants of
government.; and to crown the long list of grievances, specified by
the patriots of the day, the extension of the courts of vice-admiralty
was none of the least. They were vested with certain powers that
dispensed with the mode of trial by jury, annihilated the privileges of
Englishmen, and placed the liberty of every man in the hand of a
petty officer of the customers. By warrant of a writ of assistance from
the governor or lieutenant governor, any officer of the revenue was
authorized to enter the dwelling of the most respectable inhabitant on
the smallest suspicion of a concealment of contraband goods and to
insult, search, or seize with impunity.

An attorney at law [Jonathan Sewall, a native of the province, whose

pen had been employed to vindicate the measures of administration
and the conduct of Governor Bernard, under the signature of
Philalethes, Massachusettensis, etc., etc.] , of some professional
abilities and ingenuity, but without either property or principle, was, by
the instigation of Mr. Bernard, appointed sole judge of admiralty in
Massachusetts. The dangerous aspect of this court, particularly when
aided by writs of assistance, was opposed with peculiar energy and
strength of argument, by James Otis, Esquire of Boston, who, by the
exertion of is talents and sacrifice of interest, may justly claim the
honor of laying the foundation of a revolution which has been
productive of the happiest effects to the civil and political interests of
mankind.

He was the first champion of American freedom, who had the courage
to put his signature to the contest between Great Britain and the
colonies. He had in a clear, concise, and nervous manner, stated and
vindicated the rights of the American colonies, and published his
observations in Boston, while the Stamp Act hung suspended. This
tract was written with such a spirit of liberality loyalty, and impartiality,
that though at the time some were ready to pronounce it treasonable,
yet, when opposition run higher, many of the most judicious partisans
of the crown were willing to admit it as a just criterion of political truth.
[See Mr. Otis's pamphlet, entitle, "The rights of the colonies stated
and vindicated."] But the author was abused and vilified by the
scribblers of the court, and threatened with an arrest from the crown,
for the boldness of his opinions. Yet he continued to advocate the
rights of the people, and in the course of his argument against the
iniquitous consequences of writs of assistance, he observed that "his
engaging in this cause had raised the resentment of its abettors; but
that he argued it from principle and with peculiar pleasure, as it was
in favor of British liberty, and in opposition t the exercise of a power
that in former periods of English history had cost one king of England
his head and another his crown." He added, "I can sincerely declare
that I submit myself to every opprobrious name for conscience sake,
and despise all those, whom guilt, folly, or malice have made my
foes."

It was on this occasion that Mr. Otis resigned the office of judge
advocate and renounced all employment under so corrupt an
administration, boldly declaring in the face of the supreme court at
this dangerous crisis that "the only principle of public conduct worthy
a gentleman or a man was the sacrifice of health, ease, applause,
estate, or even life, to the sacred calls of his country; that these
manly sentiments in private life made the good citizen, in public, the
patriot, and the hero." Thus was verified in his conduct the
observation of a writer of merit and celebrity that "it was as difficult for
Great Britain to frighten as to cheat Americans into servitude; that she
ought to leave them in the peaceable possession of that liberty which
they received at their birth, and were resolved to retain to their death."
[Mr. Dickenson, author of the much admired "Farmer's Letters," the
first copy of which he enclosed to his friend, Mr. Otis, and observed to
him, that "the examples of public spirits in the cold regions of the
north had roused the languid latitudes of the south to a proper

vindication of their rights." (see Note 5 at the end of this chapter)

When the new parliamentary regulations reached America, all the

colonies in their several departments petitioned in the most strenuous
manner against any American taxation, and all other recent
innovations relative to the government of the British provinces. These
petitions were, when received by the ministry, treated by them with
the utmost contempt. But they were supported by a respectable party
in the parliament of Britain, who did not neglect to warm the
administration of the danger of precipitating measures that might
require before the termination of a contest thus hurried on "more
virtue and abilities than the ministry possessed." By some steps taken
by administration previous to the present period, there was reason to
suppose that they were themselves apprehensive, that their system
for governing the colonies in a more arbitrary manner would give
great offense, and create disturbances of so alarming a nature that
perhaps the aid of military power might become necessary to enforce
the completion of their designs. Doubtless it was with a view of
facilitating the new projects that an extraordinary bill had been
passed in parliament, making it lawful for the officers of the British
army to quarter their troops in private houses through the colonies.
Thus while mixed in every family, it might become more easy to awe
the people into submission, and compel them by military terrors to the
basest compliances. But the colony agents residing in London and
the merchants concerned in the American trade remonstrated so
warmly against the injustice and cruelty of such a procedure that a
part of the bill was dropped. Yet it was too important a point wholly to
relinquish; of consequence a clause was left, obliging the several
legislative assemblies to provide quarters for the king's marching
regiments and furnish a number of specified articles at the expense of
the province, wherever they might be stationed.

The act continued in full force after the Stamp Act was repealed
though it equally militated with part of the British constitution which
provides that no moneys should be raised on the subject without his
consent. Yet rather than enter on a new dispute, the colonists in
general chose to evade it for the present and without many
observations thereon had occasionally made some voluntary
provisions for the support the king's troops. It was hoped the act
might be only a temporary expedient to hold up the authority of
parliament and that in a short time the claim might die of itself without
any attempt to revive such an unreasonable demand. But New York,
more explicit in her refusal to obey, was suspended from all powers of
legislation until the Quartering Act should be complied with in the
fullest extent. By this unprecedented treatment of one of the colonies,
and innumerable exactions and restrictions on all, a general
apprehension prevailed, that nothing but a firm, vigorous and united
resistance could shield from the attacks that threatened the total
extinction of civil liberty through the continent.

*************************

Note 2

Virginia Resolves. On May 29, 1765, the House of Burgesses of

Virginia came to the following resolutions: "Whereas the honorable
House of Commons in England have late drawn into question how far
the general assembly of this colony has power to enact laws for
laying taxes and imposing duties payable to the pope of this his
majesty's most ancient colony -- For settling and ascertaining the
same to all future times, the House of Burgesses of this present
general assembly have come to the several following resolutions:

Resolved, That the first adventurers and settlers of this his majesty's
colony and dominion of Virginia brought with them and transmitted to
their posterity and all others, his majesty's subjects since inhabiting in
this is majesty's colony, all the privileges and immunities that have at
any time been held, enjoyed, and possessed by the people of Great
Britain.

Resolved, That by the two royal charters granted by King James the
First, the colonists aforesaid are declared entitled to all privileges of
faithful, liege, and natural born subjects, to all intents and purposes,
as if they had been abiding and born within the realm of England.
Resolved, That his majesty's liege people of this his most ancient
colony have enjoyed the right being thus governed by their own
assembly, in the article of taxes and internal police; and that the same
have never been forfeited or any other way yielded up, but have been
constantly recognized by the kind and people of Great Britain.

Resolved therefore, That the general assembly of the colony, together

with his majesty or his substitute have in their representative capacity
the only exclusive right and power to levy taxes and impositions on
the inhabitants of this colony and that every attempt to vest such a
power in any person or persons whatsoever other than the general
assembly aforesaid is illegal, unconstitutional, and unjust, and has a
manifest tendency to destroy British, as well as American freedom.

The following resolves were not passed, though drawn up by the

committee. They are inserted as a specimen of the first and early
energies of the Old Dominion, as Virginia is usually called.

Resolved, That his majesty's liege people, the inhabitants of this

colony, are not bound to yield obedience to any law or ordinance
whatsoever designed to impose any taxation whatsoever upon them,
other than the laws and ordinances of the general assembly
aforesaid.

Resolved, That any person who shall by speaking or writing maintain

that any person or persons other than the general assembly of this
colony have any right or power to impose or lay any taxation
whatsoever on the people here shall be deemed an enemy to this his
majesty's colony.

********************************

Note 3
On October 21, the freeholders and other inhabitants of the town of
Plymouth had a meeting and unanimously agreed on instructions to
Thomas Foster, Esquire, their representative in the general assembly
of Massachusetts Bay. In which, after expressing the highest esteem
for the British constitution, showing how far the people of America
have exerted themselves in support thereof, and detailing their
grievances, they proceed as follows:

"You, sir, represent a people who are not only descended from the first
settlers of this country, but inhabit the very spot they first possessed.
Here was first laid the foundation of the British empire in this part of
America, which from a very small beginning has increased and
spread in a manner very surprising and almost incredible; especially
when we consider that all this has been effected without the aid of
assistance of any power on earth; that we have defended, protected,
and secured ourselves, against the invasions and cruelty of savages,
and the subtlety and inhumanity of our inveterate and natural
enemies the French: and all this without the appropriation of any tax
by stamps or stamp acts laid upon our fellow subjects in any part of
the king's dominions, for defraying the expenses thereof. This place,
sir, was at first the asylum of liberty, and we hope will ever be
preserved sacred to it; thought it was then no more than a forlorn
wilderness, inhabited only by savage men and beasts. To this place
our fathers, (whose memories be revere!) possessed of the principles
of liberty in their purity, disdaining slavery, fled, to enjoy those
privileges which they had an undoubted right to, but were deprived of
by the hands of violence and oppression in their native country. WE,
sir, their posterity, the freeholders and other inhabitants of this town,
legally assembled for that purpose, possessed of the same
sentiments and retaining the same ardor for liberty, think it our
indispensable duty on this occasion to express to you these our
sentiments of the Stamp Act and its fatal consequences to this
country, and to enjoin upon you, as you regard not only the welfare,
but the very being of this people, that you (consistent with our
allegiance to the king, and relation to the government of Great Britain)
disregarding all proposals for that purpose, exert all your power and
influence in relation to the Stamp Act, at least until we hear the
success of our petitions for relief. We likewise, to avoid disgracing the
memories of our ancestors, as well as the reproaches of our own
consciences, and the curses of posterity, recommend it to you to
obtain, if possible, in the honorable house of representatives of this
province, a full and explicit assertion of our rights, and to have the
same entered on their public records -- that all generations yet to
come may be convinced that we have not only a just sense of our
rights and liberties, but that we never (with submission to Divine
Providence) will be slaves to any power on earth. And as we have at
all times an abhorrence of tumults and disorders, we think ourselves
happy in being at present under no apprehensions of any, and in
having good and wholesome laws, sufficient to preserve the peace of
the province in all future times, unless provoked by some imprudent
measure; so we think it by no means advisable for you to interest
yourself in the protection of stamp papers and stamp officers. "The
only thing we have further to recommend to you at this time is to
observe on all occasions a suitable frugality and economy in the
public expenses; and that you consent to no unnecessary or unusual
grant at this time of distress, when the people are groaning under the
burden of heavy taxes; and that you use your endeavors to inquire
into and bear testimony against any past, and prevent any future,
unconstitutional draughts on the public treasury."

*************************** Note 4

Names of the gentlemen delegated to meet at New York, in 1765, on

the occasion of the Stamp Act, with the resolves of this first American
congress.

From the province of Massachusetts Bay. James Otis, Oliver

Partridge, Timothy Ruggles, Esquires

From the colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. Metcalf

Bowler, Henry Ward, Esquires
From the colony of Connecticut. Eliphalet Dyer, David Rowland,
William Samuel Johnson, Esquires

From the colony of New York. Robert R. Livingston, John Cruger,

William Bayard, Leonard Lispenard, Esquires

From the colony of New Jersey. Robert Ogden, Hendrick Fisher,

Joseph Borden, Esquires

From the province of Pennsylvania. John Dickenson, John Morton,

George Bryan, Esquires

From the government of the counties of Newcastle, Kent and Sussex,

on Delaware. Caesar Rodney, Thomas McKean, Esquires

From the province of Maryland. William Murdock, Edward Tilghman,

Thomas Ringold, Esquires

From the province of South Carolina. Thomas Lynch, Christopher

Gadsden, John Rutledge, Esquires

Saturday, A.M., October 19, 1765.

The congress met according to adjournment, and resumed etc. as

yesterday, and upon mature deliberation, agreed to the following
declarations of the rights and grievances of the colonists in America,
which were ordered to be inserted in their journals.

The members of this congress sincerely devoted with the warmest

sentiments of affection and duty to his majesty's person and
government, inviolably attached to the present happy establishment
of the protestant succession, and with minds deeply impressed by a
sense of the present and impending misfortunes of the British
colonies on this continent, having considered as maturely as time will
permit the circumstances of the said colonies, esteem it our
indispensable duty to make the following declarations of our humble
opinion, respecting the most essential rights and liberties of the
colonists, and of the grievances under which they labor, by reason of
several late acts of parliament.

I. That his majesty's subjects in these colonies owe the same

allegiance to the crown of Great Britain that is owing from his subjects
born within the realm, and all due subordination to the august body,
the parliament of Great Britain.

II. That his majesty's liege subjects in these colonies are entitled to all
the inherent rights and liberties of his natural born subjects within the
kingdom of Great Britain.

III. That it is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people and the

undoubted right of Englishmen that no taxes be imposed on them but
with their own consent, given personally or by their representatives.

IV. That the people of these colonies are not, and from their local
circumstances cannot, be represented in the House of Commons in
Great Britain.

V. That the only representatives of the people of these colonies are

people chosen by themselves, and that no taxes ever have been or
can be constitutionally imposed on them but by their respective
legislatures.

VI. That all supplies to the crown being free gifts of the people, it is
unreasonable and inconsistent with the principles and spirit of the
British constitution for the people of Great Britain to grant to his
majesty the property of the colonists.
VII. That trial by jury is the inherent and invaluable right of every
British subject in these colonies.

VIII. That the late act of parliament entitle "An act for granting and
applying certain stamp duties and other duties in the British colonies
and plantations in American etc." by imposing taxes on the
inhabitants of these colonies and the same act and several other acts
by extending the jurisdiction of the courts of admiralty beyond its
ancient limits, have a manifest tendency to subvert the rights and
liberties of the colonists.

IX. That the duties imposed by several late acts of the British
parliament, from the peculiar circumstances of these colonies will be
extremely burdensome and grievous, and from the scarcity of specie,
the payment of them absolutely impracticable.

X. That as the profits of the trade of these colonies ultimately center in

Great Britain, to pay for the manufactures which they are obliged to
take from thence, they eventually contribute very largely to all
supplies granted there to the crown.

XI. That the restrictions imposed by several late acts of parliament on

the trade of these colonies, will render them unable to purchase the
manufactures of Great Britain.

XII. That the increase, prosperity, and happiness of these colonies,

depend on the full and free enjoyment of their rights and liberties, and
an intercourse with Great Britain, mutually affectionate and
advantageous.

XIII. That it is the right of the British subjects in the colonies to petition
the king or either house of parliament.
LASTLY. That it is the indispensable duty of these colonies, to the best
of sovereigns, to the mother country, and to themselves, to endeavor
by a loyal and dutiful address to his majesty, and humble applications
to both houses of parliament, to procure the repeal of the act for
granting and applying certain stamp-duties; of all clauses of any other
acts of parliament whereby the jurisdiction of the admiralty is
extended as aforesaid; and of the other late acts for the restriction of
American commerce.

After these resolves, they chose Thomas Lynch, James Otis, and
Thomas McKean, Esquires, to prepare a petition to the house of
commons. An address to the king and to the house of lords was also
prepared and forwarded.

************************** Note 5

Copy from Mr. Dickenson's original letter to Mr. Otis, accompanying

the celebrated "Farmer's Letter." Philadelphia, Dec. 5, 1767

Dear Sir, The liberties of our common country appear to me to be at

this moment exposed to the most imminent danger; and this
apprehension has engaged me to lay my sentiments before the public
in letters, of which I send you a copy;. Only one has yet published;
and what their effect may be cannot yet be known. But whenever the
cause of American freedom is to be vindicated, I look toward the
prince of Massachusetts Bay. She must, as she has hitherto done,
first kindle the sacred flame, that on such occasions must warm and
illuminate this continent. Words are wanting to express my sense of
the vigilance, perseverance, spirit, prudence, resolution, and
firmness, with which your colony has distinguished herself, in our
unhappy times. May God ever grant her noble labors the same
successful issue which was obtained by the repeal of the Stamp Act.
In my gratitude to your province in general, I do not forget the
obligation which all Americans are under to you in particular, for the
indefatigable zeal and undaunted courage you have shown in
defending their rights. My opinion of your love for your country
induces me to commit to your hands the enclosed letters, to be
disposed of as you think proper, not intending to give out any other
copy. I have shown them to three men of learning here, who are my
friends. They think with me that the most destructive consequences
must follow if these colonies do not instantly, vigorously, and
unanimously unite themselves in the same manner they did against
the Stamp Act. Perhaps they and I are mistaken; I therefore send the
piece containing the reasons for this opinion, to you, who I know can
determine its true worth; and if you can discover no other merit in it,
permit me at least to claim the merit of having wrote it with the most
ardent affection for the British colonies the purest intentions to
promote their welfare, an honest desire to assert their rights, and with
deep sense of their impending misfortunes. Our cause is a cause of
the highest dignity: it is nothing less than to maintain the liberty with
which Heaven itself "hath made us free." I hope it will not be disgraced
in any colony by a single rash step. We have constitutional methods
of seeking redress, and they are the best methods. This subject lead
me to inform you with pleasure, because I think it must give you
pleasure, that the moderation of your conduct in composing the
minds of your fellow-citizens, has done you the highest credit with us.
You may be assured I feel a great satisfaction in hearing your praises;
for every thing that advances your reputation or interest, will always
afford sincere joy to, dear sir, Your most affectionate and

Most humble servant,

John Dickenson.

To Honorable James Otis, Junior, Esquire

__________________________

Chapter Three: Cursory Observations. Massachusetts Circular Letter.

A new House of Representatives called. Governor Bernard
impeached. A riot on the seizure of a vessel. Troops arrive. A
Combination against all commerce with Great Britain. A General
Assembly convened at Boston, removed to Cambridge. Governor
Bernard after his impeachment repairs to England.

The British colonies at this period through the American continent

contained, exclusive of Canada and Nova Scotia, the provinces of
New Hampshire and Massachusetts Bay, of Rhode Island,
Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, the Delaware
counties, Virginia, Maryland, the two Carolinas, and Georgia, besides
the Floridas, and an unbounded tract of wilderness not yet explored.
These several provinces had been always governed by their own
distinct legislatures. It is true there was some variety in their religious
opinions, but a striking similarity in their political institutions, except in
the proprietary governments. At the same time the colonies,
afterwards the thirteen states, were equally marked with that manly
spirit of freedom, characteristic of Americans from New Hampshire to
Georgia.

Aroused by the same injuries from the parent state, threatened in the
same manner by the common enemies to the rights of society among
themselves, their petitions to the throne had been suppressed without
even a reading, their remonstrances were ridiculed and their
supplications rejected. They determined no longer to submit. All stood
ready to unite in the same measures to obtain that redress of
grievances they had so long requested, and that relief from burdens
they had so long complained of, to so little purpose. Yet there was no
bond of connection by which a similarity of sentiment and concord in
action might appear, whether they were again disposed to revert to
the hitherto fruitless mode of petition and remonstrance, or to leave
that humiliating path for a line of conduct more cogent and influential
in the contests of nations.

A circular letter dated February 11, 1768. by the legislature of

Massachusetts, directed to the representatives and burgesses of the
people through the continent, was a measure well calculated for this
salutary purpose. (see Note 6 at the end of this chapter) This letter
painted in the strongest colors the difficulties they apprehended, the
embarrassments they felt, and the steps already taken to obtain relief.
It contained the full opinion of that assembly relative to the late acts of
parliament; while at the same time they expatiated on their duty and
attachment to the King, and detailed in terms of respect the
representations that had been made to his ministers, they expressed
the boldest determination to continue a free but loyal people. Indeed
there were few, if any, who indulged an idea of a final separation from
Britain at so early a period; or that even wished for more than an
equal participation of the privileges of the British constitution.

Independence was a plant of later growth. Though the soil might be

congenial, and the boundaries of nature pointed out the event, yet
every one chose to view it at a distance, rather than wished to
witness the convulsions that such a dismemberment of the empire
must necessarily occasion.

After the circulation of this alarming letter (see Note 7 at the end of
this chapter), wherever any of the governors had permitted the
legislative bodies to meet, an answer was returned by the assemblies
replete with encomiums on the exertion and zeal of the
Massachusetts. They observed that the spirit that dictated that letter
was but a transcript of their own feelings; and that though equally
impressed with every sentiment of respect to the prince on the throne
of Britain, and feeling the strongest attachment to the house of
Hanover, they could not but reject with disdain the late measures so
repugnant to the dignity of the crown and the true interest of the
realm; and that at every hazard they were determined to resist all acts
of parliament for the injurious purpose of raising a revenue in
America. They also added that they had respectively offered the most
humble supplications to the kind; that they had remonstrated to both
houses of parliament, and had directed their agents at the British
court to leave no effort untried to obtain relief, without being compelled
to what might be deemed by royalty an illegal mode of opposition.

In consequence of the spirited proceedings of the House of

Representatives, the General Assembly of Massachusetts was
dissolved, nor were they suffered to meet again until a new election.
These transactions were carefully transmitted to administration by
several of the plantation governors, and particularly Mr. Bernard, with
inflammatory observations of his own, interlarded with the most
illiberal abuse of the principal leaders of the late measures in the
Assembly of Massachusetts.

Their charter, which still provided for the election of the legislature,
obliged the governor to summon a new assembly to meet May 24,
1768. The first communication laid before the House by the governor
contained a haughty requisition from the British minister of state,
directing in his majesty's name that the present House should
immediately rescind the resolutions of a former one, which had
produced the celebrated circular letter. Governor Bernard also
intimated that it was his majesty's pleasure that on a non-compliance
with this extraordinary mandate the present assembly should be
dissolved without delay.

What heightened the resentment to the manner of this singular order

signed by Lord Hillsborough, secretary of state for the American
department, was that he therein intimated to the governor that he
need not fear the most unqualified obedience on his part to the high
measure of administration, assuring him that it would not operate to
his disadvantage, as care would be taken in future to provide for his
interest and to support the dignity of government, without the
interpositions or existence of a provincial legislature.

These messages were received by the representative body with a

steadiness and resolution becoming the defenders of the rights of a
free people. After appointing a committee to consider and prepare an
answer to them, they proceeded with great coolness to the usual
business of the session, without further notice of what had passed.

Within a day or two, they received second message from the

governor, purporting that he expected an immediate and an explicit
answer to the authoritative requisition; and that if they longer
postponed their resolutions, he should consider their delay as an
"oppugnation to his majesty's authority, and a negative to the
command, by an expiring faction." On this, the House desired time to
consult their constituents on such an extraordinary question. This
being peremptorily and petulantly refused, the House ordered the
Board of Council to be informed that they were entering on a debate
of important, that they should give them notice when it was over, and
directed the doorkeeper to call no member out, on any pretense
whatever.

The committee appointed to answer the governor's several messages

were gentlemen of known attachment to the cause of their country,
who on every occasion had rejected all servile compliances with
ministerial requisitions. They were not long on the business. When
they returned to the House, the galleries were immediately cleared,
and they reported on answer, bold and determined, yet decent an
disloyal. In the course of their reply, they observed that it was not an
"expiring faction," that the governor had charged with "oppugnation to
this majesty's authority," that it was the best blood of the colony who
opposed the ministerial measures, men of reputation, fortune and
rank, equal to any who enjoyed the smiles of government; that their
exertions were from a conscious sense of duty to their God, to their
King, to their country, and to posterity. [The principal members of this
committee were Major Joseph Hawley of Northampton, James Otis,
Esquire of Boston, Samuel Adams, James Warren of Plymouth, John
Hancock, and Thomas Cushing, Esquires.]

This committee at the same time reported a very spirited letter to Lord
Hillsborough, which they had prepared to lay before the House. In
this they remonstrated on the injustice as well as absurdity of a
requisition when a compliance was impracticable, even had they the
inclination to rescind the doings of a former house. This letter was
approved by the house, and on division on the question of rescinding
the vote of a former Assembly, it was negatived by a majority of 92 to
17.

The same committee was immediately nominated to prepare a petition

to the King to remove Mr. Bernard from the government of
Massachusetts. They drew up a petition for this purpose without
leaving the House and immediately reported it. They alleged a long
list of accusations against the governor, and requested his majesty
that one more worthy to represent so great and good a king might be
sent to preside in the province. Thus impeached by the house, the
same minority that had appeared ready to rescind the circular letter
declared themselves against the impeachment of Governor Bernard
[Journals of the house.] Their servility was marked with peculiar
odium: they were stigmatized by the appellation of the infamous 17,
until their names were lost in a succession of great events and more
important characters.

When the doors of the House were opened, the secretary who had
been long in waiting for admission informed the House that the
governor was in the chair and desired their attendance in the Council
Chamber. They complied without hesitation, but were received in a
most ungracious manner. With much ill humor, the Governor
reprimanded them in the language of an angry pedagogue, instead of
the manner becoming the first magistrate when addressing the
representatives of a free people: he concluded his harangue by
proroguing the assembly, which within a few days he dissolved by
proclamation.

In the mean time by warm and virulent letters from the indiscreet
Governor; by others full of invective from the commissioners of the
customers, and by the secret influence of some, who yet concealed
themselves within the vizard of moderation, "who held the language
of patriotism, but trod in the footsteps of tyranny," leave was obtained
from administration to apply to the commander in chief of the King's
troops, then at New York, to send several regiments to Boston, as a
necessary aid to civil government, which they represented as too
weak to suppress the disorders of the times. It was urged that this
step was absolutely necessary to enable the officers of the crown to
carry into execution the laws of the supreme legislature.

A new pretext had been recently given to the malignant party, to urge
with the show of plausibility the immediate necessity of the military
arm to quell the riotous proceedings of the town of Boston, to
strengthen the hands of government, and restore order and tranquility
to the province. The seizure of a vessel belonging to a popular
gentleman, [John Hancock, Esquire, afterwards governor of the
Massachusetts], under suspicion of a breach of the acts of trade,
raised a sudden resentment among the citizens of Boston. The
conduct of the owner was indeed reprehensible, in permitting a part
of the cargo to be unladen in a clandestine manner; but the mode of
the seizure appeared like a design to raise a sudden ferment, that
might be improved to corroborate the arguments for the necessity of
standing troops to be stationed within the town.

On a certain signal, a number of boats, manned and armed, rowed up

to the wharf, cut the fasts of the suspected vessel, carried her off, and
placed her under the stern of a ship of war, as if apprehensive of a
rescue. This was executed in the edge of the evening, when
apprentices and the younger classes were usually in the streets. It
had what was thought to be the desired effect; the inconsiderate
rabble, unapprehensive of the snare, and thoughtless of
consequences, pelted some of the custom-house officers with brick-
bats, broke their windows, drew one of their boats before the door of
the gentleman they thought injured, and set it on fire; after which they
dispersed without further mischief.

This trivial disturbance was exaggerated until it wore the complexion

of a riot of the first magnitude. By the insinuations of the party and
their malignant conduct, it was not strange that in England it was
considered as a London mob collected in the streets of Boston, with
some formidable desperado at their head. After this fracas, the
custom-house officers repaired immediately to Castle William as did
the Board of Commissioners. This fortress was about a league from
the town. From thence they expressed their apprehensions of
personal danger, in strong language. Fresh applications were made
to General Gage to hasten on his forces from New York, assuring him
that the lives of the officers of the Crown were insecure unless placed
beyond the reach of popular resentment, by an immediate military aid.
In consequence of these representations, several detachments from
Halifax, and two regiments lately from Ireland, were directed to repair
to Boston with all possible dispatch.

The experience of all ages, and the observations both of the historian
and the philosopher agree that a standing army is the most ready
engine in the hand of despotism to debase the powers of the human
mind and eradicate the manly spirit of freedom. The people have
certainly everything to fear from a government when the springs of its
authority are fortified only a standing military force. Wherever an army
is established, it introduces a revolution in manners, corrupts the
morals, propagates every species of vice, and degrades the human
character. Threatened with the immediate introduction of this dream
calamity, deprived by the dissolution of their legislature of all power to
make any legal opposition; neglected by their Sovereign, and insulted
by the Governor he had set over them, much the largest part of the
community was convinced that they had no resource but in the
strength of their virtues, the energy of their resolutions, and the
justice of their cause.

In this state of general apprehension, confusion, and suspense, the

inhabitants of Boston again requested Governor Bernard to convoke
an Assembly, and suffer the representatives of the whole people to
consult and advise at this critical conjuncture. He rejected this
application with an air of insult, and no time was to be lost. Letters
were instantly forwarded from the capital, requesting a delegation of
suitable persons to met in convention from every town in the province
before the arrival of the troops, and if possible, to take some steps to
prevent the fatal effects of these dangerous and unprecedented
measures.

The whole country felt themselves interested, ad readily complied with

the proposal. The most respectable persons from 196 towns were
chosen delegates to assemble at Boston, on September 22. They
accordingly met at that time and place; as soon as they were
convened, the Governor sent them an angry message, admonishing
them immediately to disperse, assuring them "the King was
determined to maintain his entire sovereignty over the province -- that
their present meeting might be in consequence of their ignorance --
that that if after this admonition, they continued their usurpation, they
might repent their temerity, as he was determined to assert the
authority of the Crown in a more public manner, if they continued to
disregard this authoritative warning."

He, however, found he had not men to deal with, either ignorant of
law, regardless of its sanctions, or terrified by the frowns of power.
The Convention made him a spirited but decent answer, containing
the reasons of their assembling, and the line of conduct they were
determined to pursue in spite of every menace. The

Governor refused to receive their reply; he urged the illegality of the

Assembly, and made use of every subterfuge to interrupt their
proceedings.

Their situation was indeed truly delicate, as well as dangerous. The

Convention was a body not known in the constitution of their
government, and in the strict sense of law, it might be styled a
treasonable meeting. They still professed fealty to the Crown of
Britain; and though the principle had been shaken by injuries, that
might have justified a more sudden renunciation of loyalty, yet theirs
was cherished by a degree of religious scruple, amidst every species
of insult. Thus while they wished to support this temper, and to
cherish their former affection, they felt with poignancy the invasion of
their rights, and hourly expected the arrival of an armed force, to back
the threatenings of their first magistrate.

Great prudence and moderation, however, marked the transactions of

an assembly of men thus circumstanced; they could in their present
situation only recapitulate their sufferings, felt and feared. This they
did in a pointed and nervous style, in a letter addressed to Mr. De
Berdt, [See letter to Mr. De Berdt, in the journals of the House.], the
agent of the province, residing in London. They stated the
circumstances that occasioned their meeting, and a full detail of their
proceedings. They enclosed a petition to the king, and ordered their
agent to deliver it with his own hand. The Convention then
separated, ad returned to their respective towns, where they
impressed on their constituents the same perseverance, forbearance,
and magnanimity that had marked their own resolutions.

Within a few days after the separation, the troops arrived from Halifax.
This was indeed a painful era. The American War may be dated from
the hostile parade of this day; a day which marks with infamy the
councils of Britain. At this period, the inhabitants of the colonies
almost universally breathed an unshaken loyalty to the

King of England, and the strongest attachment to a country whence

they derived their origin. Thus was the astonishment of the whole
province excited, when to the grief and consternation of the town of
Boston several regiments were landed and marched, sword in hand,
through the principal streets of their city, then in profound peace.

The disembarkation of the King's troops, which took place on October

1, 1768, was viewed by a vast crowd of spectators, who beheld the
solemn prelude to devastation and bloodshed with a kind of sullen
silence, that denoted the deepest resentment. Yet whatever might be
the feelings of the citizens, not one among the gazing multitude
discovered any disposition to resist by arms the power and authority
of the King of Great Britain. This appearance of decent submission
and order was very unexpected to some, whose guilty fears had led
them to expect a violent and tumultuous resistance to the landing of a
large body of armed soldiers in the town. The peaceable demeanor
of the people was construed, by the party who had brought this evil
on the city, as a mark of abject submission.

As they supposed from the present acquiescent deportment that the

spirit of the inhabitants was totally subdued on the first appearance of
military power, they consequently rose in their demands. General
Gage arrived from New York soon after the King's troops reached
Boston. With the aid of the Governor, the Chief Justice of the
province, and the Sheriff of the County of Suffolk, he forced quarters
for his soldiers in all the unoccupied houses in the town. The Council
convened on this occasion opposed the measure; but to such a
height was the insolence of power pushed, by their passionate,
vindictive, and wrong-headed Governor, that in spite of the
remonstrances of several magistrates, and the importunities of the
people, he suffered the State House, where the archives of the
province were deposited, to be improved as barracks for the King's
troops. Thus the members of Council, the magistrates of the town,
and the courts of justice were daily interrupted, and frequently
challenged in their way to their several departments in business, by
military sentinels posted at the doors.

A standing army thus placed in their capital, their commerce fettered,

their characters traduced, their representative body prevented
meeting, the united petitions of all ranks that they might be convened
at this critical conjuncture rejected by the Governor; and still
threatened with a further augmentation of troops to enforce measures
of ever view repugnant to the principles of the British constitution; little
hope remained of a peaceful accommodation.
The most rational arguments had been urged by the legislative
assemblies, by corporate bodies, associations, and individual
characters of eminence, to shake the arbitrary system that augured
evils to both countries. But their addresses were disdainfully
rejected; the King and court of Great Britain appeared equally deaf to
the cry of millions, who only asked a restoration of their rights. At the
same time, every worthless incendiary, who, taking advantage of
these miserable times, crossed the Atlantic with a tale of accusation
against his country, was listened to with attention, and rewarded with
some token of royal favor.

In this situation, no remedy appeared to be left, short of an appeal to

the sword, unless an entire suspension of that commercial
intercourse which had contributed so much to the glory and grandeur
of Britain, could be effected throughout the colonies. As all the
American continent was involved in one common danger, it was not
found difficult to obtain a general combination against all further
importations from England, a few articles only excepted. The
mercantile body through all the provinces entered into solemn
engagements, and plighted their faith and honor to each other, and to
their country, that no orders should be forwarded by them for British
or India goods within a limited term, except for certain specified
articles of necessary use. These engagements originated in Boston,
and were for a time strictly adhered to through all the colonies. Great
encouragement was given to American manufactures, and if pride of
apparel was at all indulged, it was in wearing the stuffs fabricated in
their own looms. Harmony and union, prudence and economy,
industry and virtue, were inculcated in their publications and enforced
by the example of the most respectable characters.

In consequence of these determinations, the clamors of the British

manufacturers arose to tumult in many parts of the kingdom; but no
artifice was neglected to quiet the trading part of the nation. There
were some Americans who by letters encouraged administration to
persevere in their measures relative to the colonies, assuring them in
the strongest terms that the interruption of commerce was but a
temporary struggle, or rather an effort of despair. No one in the
country urged his opinion with more indiscreet zeal than Andre Oliver,
Esquire, then Secretary in the Massachusetts. He suggested "that
government should stipulate with the merchants in England to
purchase large quantities of goods proper for the American market;
agreeing beforehand to allow them a premium equal to the advance
of their stock in trade, if the price of their goods was not sufficiently
enhanced by a tenfold demand in future, even though the goods
might lay on hand till this temporary stagnation of

business should cease." He concluded his political rhapsody with this

inhuman boast to this correspondent: "By such a step the game will
be up with my countrymen." [See the original letters of Mr. Oliver to
Mr. Whately and others, which were afterwards published in a
pamphlet; also in the British Remembrancer, 1773.]

The prediction on both sides of the Atlantic that this combination,

which depended wholly on the commercial part of the community,
could not be of long duration, proved indeed too true. A regard to
private interest ever operates more forcibly on the bulk of mankind
than the ties of honor, or the principles of patriotism; and when the
latter are incompatible with the former, the balance seldom hangs long
in equilibrium. Thus it is not uncommon to see virtue, liberty, love of
country, and regard to character, sacrificed at the shrine of wealth.

The winter following this salutary combination, a partial repeal of the

act imposing duties on certain articles of British manufacture took
place. ON this it immediately appeared that some in New York had
previously given conditional orders to their correspondents that if the
measures of Parliament should in any degree be relaxed, that without
farther application they should furnish them with large quantities of
goods. Several in the other colonies had discovered as much avidity
for an early importation as the Yorkers. They had given similar
orders, and both received larger supplies than usual, of British
merchandise, early in the spring of 1769. The people, of course,
considered the agreement nullified by the conduct of the merchants,
and the intercourse with England for a time went on as usual, without
any check. Thus, by breaking through the agreement within the
limited time of restriction, a measure was defeated which, had it been
religiously observed, might have prevented the tragical
consequences which ensured.

After this event, a series of altercation and abuse, of recrimination and

suspense, was

kept up on both sides of the Atlantic, without much appearance of

lenity on the one side or decision on the other. There appeared little
disposition in Parliament to relax the reins of government, and less in
the Americans to yield implicit obedience. But whether from an
opinion that they had taken the lead in opposition, or whether from
their having a greater proportion of British sycophants among
themselves, whose artful insinuations operated against their country,
or from other concurring circumstances, the Massachusetts was still
the principal butt of ministerial resentment. It is therefore necessary
yet to continue a more particular detail of the situation of that
province.

As their charter was not yet annihilated, Governor Bernard found

himself under a necessity, as the period of annual election
approached, to issue writs to convene a General Assembly.
Accordingly, a new House of Representatives met at Boston as usual
on May 31, 1769. They immediately petitioned the Governor to
remove the military parade that surrounded the State House, urging
that such a hostile appearance might over-awe their proceedings,
and prevent the freedom of election and debate.

A unanimous resolve passed, "that it was the opinion of the House

that placing an armed force in the metropolis while the General
Assembly is there convened is a breach of privilege, and totally
inconsistent with the dignity and freedom with which they ought to
deliberate and determine; " adding, "that they meant ever to support
their constitutional rights, that they should never voluntarily recede
from their just claims, contained both in the letter and spirit of the
constitution."

After several messages both from the Council and the House o
Representatives, the Governor, ever obstinate in error, declared he
had no authority over the King's troops, nor should he use any
influence to have them removed. [Journals of the House, 1769.] Thus
by express acknowledgment of the first magistrate, it appeared that
the military was set so far above the civil authority that the latter was
totally unable to check the wanton exercise of this newly established
power in the province. But the Assembly peremptorily determined to
do no business while thus insulted by the planting of cannon at the
doors of the State House, and interrupted in their solemn
deliberations by the noisy evolutions of military discipline.

The royal charter required that they should proceed to the choice of a
speaker, and the election of a Council, the first day of the meeting of
the Assembly. They had conformed to this as usual, but protested
against its being considered as a precedent on any future
emergency. Thus amidst the warmest expressions of resentment
from all classes, for the indignity offered a free people by this haughty
treatment of their legislature, the Governor suffered them to sit
several weeks without doing business; and at last compelled them to
give way to an armed force, by adjourning the General Assembly to
Cambridge.

The internal state of the province required the attention of the House
at this critical exigency of affairs. They, therefore, on their first
meeting at Cambridge, resolved, "That it was their opinion that the
British constitution admits no armed force within the realm, but for the
purpose of offensive or defensive war. That placing troops in the
colony in the midst of profound peace was a breach of privilege, an
infraction on the natural rights of the people, and manifestly
subversive of that happy form of government they had hitherto
enjoyed. That the honor, dignity, and service of the Sovereign should
be attended to by that Assembly, so far as was consistent with the
just rights of the people, their own dignity, and the freedom of debate;
but that proceeding to business while an armed force was quartered
in the province was not a dereliction of the privileges legally claimed
by the colony, but from necessity, and that no undue advantage
should be taken from their compliance."

After this, they had not time to do any other business before two
messages of a very extraordinary nature, in their opinion were laid
before them. [Journals of the first session at Cambridge.] The first
was an order under the sign-manual of the King, that Mr. Bernard
should repair to England to lay the state of the province before him.
To this message was tacked a request from the Governor, that as he
attended his Majesty's pleasure as commander in chief of the
province, his salary might be continued, though absent. The
substance of the other message was an account of General Gage's
expenditures in quartering his troops in the town of Boston;
accompanied by an unqualified demand for the establishment of fund
for the discharge thereof. The Governor added that he was
requested by General Gage to make requisition for future provision
for quartering his troops within the town.

The subsequent resolves of the House on these messages were

comformable to the usual spirit of that Assembly. They warmly
censured both Governor Bernard and General Gage for wantonly
acting against the constitution; charged them with making false and
injurious representations against his Majesty's faithful subjects, and
discovering on all occasions, a most inimical disposition towards the
colonies. They observed that General Gage had rashly and
impertinently intermeddled with affairs altogether out of his line, and
that he had betrayed a degree of ignorance equal to his malice when
he presumed to touch on the civil police of the province. They
complained heavily of the arbitrary designs of government, the
introduction of a standing army, and the encroachments on civil
liberty; and concluded with a declaration replete with sentiment so
men conscious of their own freedom and integrity, and deeply
affected with the injuries offered their country. They observed that to
the utmost of their power they should vindicate the rights of human
nature and the privileges of Englishmen, and explicitly declared that
duty to their constituents forbade a compliance with either of these
messages. This clear, decided answer being delivered, the Governor
summoned the House to attend, and after a short, angry, and
threatening speech, he prorogued the Assembly to January, 1770.

Governor Bernard immediately embarked for Europe, from whence he

never more returned to a country he had by his arbitrary disposition
and indiscreet conduct inflamed to a degree that required both
judgment and prudence to cool, perhaps beyond the abilities, and
certainly incompatible with the views of the administration in being.

The province had little reason to suppose that considerations of the

interest of the people had any part in the recall or detention of this
mischievous emissary. His reception at Court, the summary
proceedings with regard to his impeachment and trial, and the
character of the man appointed to succeed him, strongly counteracted
such a flattering opinion. Notwithstanding the high charges that had
been alleged against Governor Bernard, he was acquitted by the King
and Council, without allowing time to the Assembly to support their
accusations, honored with a title, and rewarded with a pension of
1000 pounds sterling per annum on the Irish establishment.

Governor Bernard had reason to be perfectly satisfied with the

success of his appointment tot he government of Massachusetts as it
related to his personal interest. His conduct there procured him the
smiles of the British Court, an honorary title, ad a pension for life.
Besides this, the legislature of that province had in the early part of
his administration, in a moment of complacency, or perhaps from
digested policy with a hope of bribing him to his duty and stimulating
him to defend their invaded rights, made him a grant of a very large
tract of land, the whole of the island of Mount Desert. This was
afterwards reclaimed by a Madame Gregoire, in right of her
ancestors, who had obtained a patent of some part of that country in
the early days of European emigration. But as Governor Bernard's
property in American had never been confiscated, the General
Assembly of Massachusetts afterwards granted to his son, Sir John
Bernard, who still possesses this territory, two townships of land near
the River Kennebeck, in lieu of the valuable isle recovered by
Madame Gregoire.

********************

Note 6

This measure had been contemplated by several gentlemen a year or

two before it took place; among others, by the learned Jonathan
Mayhew of Boston. See the annexed letter written by him soon after
the repeal of the Stamp Act. The abilities, virtue, and patriotism of
Doctor Mayhew were so distinguished that the following fragment
may be pleasing and particularly impressive, as it was the last letter
he ever wrote to anyone, and within three days after its date, this
great and good man closed his eyes on the politics and vanities of
human life.

Lord's day morning, June 8, 1766

Honorable James Otis, Junior, Esquire

Sir,

To a good man all the time is holy enough and none too holy to do
good, or to think upon it.
Cultivating a good understanding and hearty friendship between these
colonies and their several houses of assembly appears to me to be
so necessary a part of prudence and good policy, all things
considered, that no favorable opportunity for that purpose ought to be
omitted. I think such a one now presents. Would it not be very proper
and decorous for our assembly to send circular congratulatory letters
to all the rest, without exception, on the repeal and the present
favorable aspect of things? Letters conceived at once in terms of
warm friendship and regard to them, of loyalty to the King, of filial
affection towards the mother country, and intimating a desire to
cement and perpetuate union among ourselves, by all practicable and
laudable methods? A good foundation is already laid for this latter, by
the late Congress, which in my poor opinion was a wise measure,
and actually contributed not a little towards our obtaining a redress of
grievances, however some may affect to disparage it. Pursuing this
track, and never losing sight of it, maybe of the utmost importance to
the colonies, on some future occasions, perhaps the only means of
perpetuating their liberties; for what may be hereafter we cannot tell,
how favorable soever present appearances may be. It is not safe for
the colonies to sleep, since they will probably always have some
wakeful enemies in Britain; and if they should be such children as to
do so, I hope there are at least some persons too much of men and
friends to them to rock the cradle or sing lullaby to them.

You have heard of the communion of churches, and I am very early

tomorrow morning to set out for Rutland, to assist at an ecclesiastical
council. Not expecting to return this week, while I was thinking of this
in my bed, with the dawn of day, the great use and importance of a
communion of colonies appeared to me in a very strong light, which
determined me immediately to set down these hints, in order to
transmit them to you. Not knowing but the house may be prorogued
or dissolved before my return, or having an opportunity to speak to
you, you will make such a use of them as you think proper, or none at
all.

I have had a sight of the answer to the last very extraordinary speech
[Speech of Governor Bernard], with which I was much pleased. It
appears to me solid and judicious, and though spirited, not more so
than the case absolutely required, unless we could be content to
have an absolute and uncontrollable, instead of a limited,
constitutional governor. I cannot think the man will have one wise and
good, much less one truly great man at home to stand by him in so
open and flagrant an attack upon our charter rights and privileges.
But the less asperity in language the better, provided there is
firmness in adhering to our rights, in opposition to all encroachments.

I am, sir Your most obedient, Humble servant, Jonathan Mayhew

**********************

Note 7

Copy of the circular letter which was sent from the House of
Representatives of the province of Massachusetts Bay to the
speakers of the respective Houses of Representatives and
Burgesses on the continent of North America.

Province of the Massachusetts Bay, February 11, 1768

Sir,

The House of Representatives of this province have taken into their

serious consideration the great difficulties that must accrue to
themselves and their constituents, by the operation of the several
acts of Parliament imposing duties and taxes on the American
colonies.

As it is a subject in which every colony is deeply interested, they have

no reason to doubt but your House is duly impressed with its
importance; and that such constitutional measures will be come into
as are proper. It seems to be necessary that all possible care should
be taken that the representations of the several Assemblies, upon so
delicate a point, should harmonize with each other. The House
therefore hope that this letter will be candidly considered, in no other
light than as expressing a disposition freely to communicate their
mind to a sister colony upon a common concern, in the same manner
as they would be glad to receive the sentiments of your, or any other
House of Assembly on the continent.

The House have humbly represented to the ministry their own

sentiments; that His Majesty's high court of Parliament is the supreme
legislative power over the whole empire; that in all free states the
constitution is fixed; and as the supreme legislative derives its power
and authority form the constitution, it cannot overleap the bounds of
it, without destroying its foundation. That the constitution ascertains
and limits both sovereignty and allegiance; and therefore His
Majesty's American subjects, who acknowledge themselves bound by
the ties of allegiance, have an equitable claim to the full enjoyment of
the fundamental rules of the British constitution. That it is an
essential, unalterable right in nature, engrafted into the British
constitution as a fundamental law, and ever held sacred and
irrevocable by the subjects within the realm, that what a man has
honestly acquired is absolutely his own, which he may freely give, but
cannot be taken from him without his consent. That the American
subjects may therefore, exclusive of any consideration of charter
rights, with a decent firmness, adapted to the character of freemen
and subjects, assert this natural, constitutional right.

It is moreover their humble opinion, which they express with the

greatest deference to the wisdom of the Parliament, that the acts
made there, imposing duties on the people of this province for the
sole and express purpose of raising a revenue, are infringements of
their natural and constitutional rights. Because as they are not
represented in the British Parliament, His Majesty's Commons in
Britain, by those acts grant their property without their consent.
The House further are of opinion that their constituents, considering
their local circumstances, cannot by any possibility be represented in
Parliament; and that it will forever be impracticable that they should
be equally represented there, and consequently not at all, being
separated by an ocean of a thousand leagues. That His Majesty's
royal predecessors for this reason were graciously pleased to form a
subordinate legislative here, that their subjects might enjoy the
unalienable right of a representation. Also, that considering the utter
impracticability of their ever being fully and equally represented in
Parliament, and the great expense that must unavoidably attend even
a partial representation there, this House think that a taxation of their
constituents, even without their consent, grievous as it is, would be
preferable to any representation that could be admitted for them
there.

Upon these principles, and also considering that were the right in the
Parliament ever so clear, yet for obvious reasons it would be beyond
the rule of equity that their constituents should be taxed on the
manufactures of Great Britain here, in addition to the duties they pay
for them in England, and other advantages arising to Great Britain
from the Acts of Trade; this House have preferred a humble, dutiful,
and loyal petition to Our Most Gracious Sovereign, and made such
representations to His Majesty's ministers as they apprehend would
tend to obtain redress.

They have also submitted to consideration, whether any people can

be said to enjoy any degree of freedom, if the Crown, in addition to its
undoubted authority of constituting a governor, should appoint him
such a stipend as it should judge proper, without the consent of the
people, and at their expense; and wither while the judges of the land
and other civil officers hold not their commissions during good
behavior, their having salaries appointed for them by the Crown,
independent of the people, has not a tendency to subvert the
principles of equity, and endanger the happiness and security of the
subject.
In addition to these measures, the House have written a letter to their
agent, Mr. De Derdt, the sentiments of which he is directed to lay
before the ministry; wherein they take notice of the hardship of the
Act for Preventing Mutiny and Deserting, which requires the governor
and council to provide enumerated articles for the King's marching
troops, and the people to pay the expense; and also the commission
of the gentlemen appointed commissioners of the customers, to
reside in America, which authorizes them to make as many
appointments as they think fit, and to pay the appointees what sums
they please, for whole mal-conduct they are no accountable. From
when it may happen that officers of the Crown may be multiplied to
such a degree as to become dangerous to the liberty of the people, by
virtue of a commission which does not appear to this House to derive
any such advantages to trade as many have been led to expect.

These are the sentiments and proceedings of this House; and as they
have too much reason to believe that the enemies of the colonies
have represented them to His Majesty's ministers, and the
Parliament, as factious, disloyal, and having a disposition to make
themselves independent of the mother country, they have taken
occasion in the most humble terms to assure His Majesty and his
ministers, that with regard to the people of this province and as they
doubt not of all the colonies, that the charge is unjust.

The House is fully satisfied that your Assembly is too generous and
enlarged in sentiment to believe that this letter proceeds from an
ambition of taking the lead or

dictating to the other assemblies. They freely submit their opinion to

the judgment of others, an shall take it kind in your House to point out
to them anything further that may be thought necessary.

This House cannot conclude without expressing their firm confidence

in the King, our common head and father, that the united and dutiful
supplications of his distressed American subjects will meet with his
royal and favorable acceptance.

Signed by the Speaker.

A copy of the above letter is also, by order of the House, sent to

Dennis De Berdt, Esquire, agent to the province in London, that he
might make use of it, if necessary, to prevent any misrepresentations
in England.

_____________________

Chapter Four: Character of Mr. Hutchinson. Appointed Governor of

Massachusetts. The attempted Assassination of Mr. Otiose.
Transactions of the March 5, 1770. Arrival of the East India
Company's Tea Ships. Establishment of Committees of
Correspondence. The Right of Parliamentary Taxation without
Representation urged by Mr. Hutchinson. Articles of Impeachment
resolved on in the House of Representatives against Governor
Hutchinson and Lieutenant Governor Oliver. Chief Justice of the
Province impeached. Chief Justice of the Province impeached.
Boston Port Bill. Governor Hutchinson leaves the Province.

It is ever painful to a candid mind to exhibit the deformed features of

its own species; yet truth requires a just portrait of the public
delinquent, though he may possess such a share of private virtue as
would lead us to esteem the man in his domestic character, while we
detest his political, and execrate his public transactions.

The barriers of the British constitution broken over, and the ministry
encouraged by their sovereign, to pursue the iniquitous system
against the colonies to the most alarming extremities, they probably
judged it a prudent expedient, in order to curb the refractory spirit of
the Massachusetts, perhaps bolder in sentiment and earlier in
opposition than some of the other colonies, to appoint a man to
preside over them who had renounced the quondam ideas of public
virtue, and sacrificed all principle of that nature on the altar of
ambition.

Soon after the recall of Mr. Bernard, Thomas Hutchinson, Esq., a

native of Boston, was appointed to the government of Massachusetts.
All who yet remember his pernicious administration and the fatal
consequences that ensured, agree that few ages have produced a
more fit instrument for the purposes of a corrupt court. He was dark,
intriguing, insinuating, haughty and ambitious, while the extreme of
avarice marked each feature of his character. His abilities were little
elevated above the line of mediocrity; yet by dint of industry, exact
temperance, and indefatigable labor, he became master of the
accomplishments necessary to acquire popular fame. Though bred a
merchant, he had looked into the origin and the principles of the
British constitution, and made himself acquainted with the several
forms of government established in the colonies; he had acquired
some knowledge of the common law of England, diligently studied the
intricacies of Machiavellian policy, and never failed to recommend the
Italian master as a model to his adherents.

Raised an distinguished by every honor the people could bestow, he

supported for several years the reputation of integrity, and generally
decided with equity in his judicial capacity; [Judge of probate for the
county of Suffolk, and chief justice of the Supreme Court] and by the
appearance of a tenacious regard to the religious institutions of his
country, he courted the public eclat with the most profound
dissimulation, while he engaged the affections of the lower classes by
an amiable civility and condescension, without departing from a
certain gravity of deportment mistaken by the vulgar for sanctity.

The Inhabitants of the Massachusetts were the lineal descendants of

the puritans, who had struggle din England for liberty as early as the
reign of Edward V; and though obscured in the subsequent bloody
persecutions, even Mr. Hume has acknowledged that to them
England is indebted for the liberty she enjoys [Hume's History of
England]. Attached to the religious forms of their ancestors, equally
disgusted with the hierarchy of the Church of England, and prejudiced
by the severities their fathers had experienced before their
emigration, they had, both by education and principle, been always
led to consider the religious as well as the political characters of
those they deputed to the highest trust. Thus a profession of their
own religious mode of worship, and sometimes a tincture of
superstition, was with many a higher recommendation than brilliant
talents. This accounts in some measure for the unlimited confidence
long placed in the specious accomplishments of Mr. Hutchinson,
whose character was not thoroughly investigated until some time after
Governor Bernard left the province.

But it was known at St. James's, that in proportion as Mr. Hutchinson

gained the confidence of administration, he lost the esteem of the
best of his countrymen; for his reason, he advancement to the chair
of government was for a time postponed or concealed, lest the
people should consider themselves insulted by such an appointment,
and become too suddenly irritated. Appearances had for several years
been strong against him, though it was not then fully known that he
had seized the opportunity to undermine the happiness of ;the
people, while he had their fullest

confidence, and to barter the liberties of his country by the most

shameless duplicity. This was soon after displayed beyond all
contradiction, by the recovery of sundry letters to administration
under his signature.

Mr. Hutchinson was one of the first in America who felt the full eight of
popular resentment. His furniture was destroyed, and his house
leveled to the ground, in the tumults occasioned by the news of the
Stamp Act. Ample compensation was indeed afterwards made him for
the loss of property, but the strong prejudices against his political
character were never eradicated.

All pretenses to moderation on the part of the British government now

laid aside, the full appointment of Mr. Hutchinson to the government
of the Massachusetts was publicly announced at the close of the year
1769. On his promotion, the new governor uniformly observed a
more high-handed and haughty tone than his predecessor. He
immediately, by an explicit declaration, avowed his independence on
the people, and informed the legislative that his Majesty had made
ample provision for his support without their aid or suffrages. The
vigilant guardians of the rights of the people directly called upon him
to relinquish the unconstitutional stipend, and to accept the free
grants of the General Assembly for his subsistence, as usually
practiced. He replied that an acceptance of this offer would be a
breach of his instructions from the kind. This was his constant
apology for every arbitrary step.

Secure of the favor of his Sovereign, an now regardless of the

popularity he had formerly courted with such avidity, he decidedly
rejected the idea of responsibility to, or dependence on, the people.
With equal inflexibility he disregarded all arguments used for the
removal of the troops from the capital, and permission to the Council
and House of Representatives to return to the usual feat of
government. Ht silently heard their solicitations for this purpose, and
as if with a design to pour contempt on their supplications and
complaints, he within a few days after withdrew a garrison, in the pay
of the province, from a strong fortress in the harbor of Boston; placed
two regiments of the King's troops in their stead, and delivered the
keys of the castle to Colonel Dalrymple, who then commanded the
King's troops through the province.

These steps, which seemed to bid defiance to complaint, created new

fears in the minds of the people. I required the utmost vigilance to
quiet the murmurs and prevent the total consequences apprehended
from the ebullitions of popular resentment. But cool, deliberate and
persevering, the two houses continued to resolve, remonstrate, and
protest, against the infractions on their charter, and every dangerous
innovation on their rights and privileges. Indeed, the intrepid and
spirited conduct of those, who flood forth undaunted at this early
crisis of hazard, with dignify their names so long as the public records
shall remain to witness their patriotic firmness.

Many circumstances rendered it evident that the ministerial party

wished a spirit of opposition to the designs of the Court might break
out into violence, even at the expense of blood. This they thought
would in some degree have sanctioned a measure suggested by one
of the faction in America, devoted to the arbitrary system. "That some
method must be devised "to take off the original incendiaries [See
Andrew Oliver's letter to one of the ministry, dated Feb. 13, 1769.]
whose writings instilled the position of sedition through the vehicle of
the Boston Gazette. [This gazette was much celebrated for the
freedom of its disquisitions in favor of civil liberty. I has been
observed that "it will be a treasury of political intelligence "for the
historians of this country. Otis, Thacher, Dexter, Adams, Warren and
Quincy, Doctors Samuel Cooper and Mayhew, stars of the first
magnitude in our northern hemisphere, whose glory and brightness
distance ages will admire; these gentlemen of character and
influence offered their first essays to the public through the medium of
the Boston Gazette, who which account the paper became odious to
the friends of prerogative, but not more disgusting to the Tories and
High Church than it was pleading to the Whigs." See collection of the
Massachusetts Historical Society.]

Had this advice been followed and a few gentlemen of integrity and
ability, who had spirit sufficient to make an effort in favor of their
country in each colony, have been seized at that same moment and
immolated early in the contest on the bloody altar of power, perhaps
Great Britain might have held the continent in subjection a few years
longer.
That they had measures of this nature in contemplation there is not a
doubt. Several instances of a less atrocious nature confirmed this
opinion, and the turpitude of design which at this period actuated the
court party was clearly evinced by the attempted assassination of the
celebrated Mr. Otis, justly deemed the first martyr to American
freedom; and truth will enroll his name among the most distinguished
patriots who have expired on the "bloodstained theater of human
action."

This gentleman, whose birth and education was equal to any in the
province, possessed an easy fortune, independent principles, a
comprehensive genius, strong mind, retentive memory, and great
penetration. To these endowments may be added that extensive
professional knowledge, which at once forms the character of the
complete civilian and the able statesman.

In his public speeches, the fire of eloquence the acumen of argument,

and the lively sallies of wit, at once warmed the bosom of the stoic
and commanded the admiration of his enemies. To his probity and
generosity in the public walks were added the charms of affability and
improving converse in private life. His humanity was conspicuous, his
sincerity acknowledged, his integrity unimpeached, his honor
unblemished, and his patriotism marked with the disinterestedness of
the Spartan. Yet he was susceptible of quick feelings and warm
passions, which in the ebullitions of zeal for the interest of his country
sometimes betrayed him into unguarded epithets that gave his foes
an advantage, without benefit to the cause that lay nearest his heart.

He had been affronted by the partisans of the crown, vilified in the

public papers, and treated (after his resignation of office [Office of
judge advocate in Governor Bernard's administration.]) in a manner
too gross for a man of his spirit to pass over with impunity. Fearless of
consequences, he had always given the world his opinions both in his
writings and his conversation, and had recently published some
 severe strictures on the conduct of the commissioners of the
customers and others of the ministerial party, and bidding defiance to
resentment, he supported his allegations by the signature of his
name.

A few days after this publication appeared, Mr. Otis, with only one
gentleman in company, was suddenly assaulted in a public room, by
a band of ruffians armed with swords and bludgeons. They were
headed by John Robinson, one of the commissioners of the
customers. The lights were immediately extinguished, and Mr. Otis
covered with wounds was left for dead, while the assassins made their
way through the crowd which began to assemble; and before their
crime was discovered, fortunately for themselves, they escaped soon
enough to take refuge on board one of the King's ships which then lay
in the harbor.

In a state of nature, the savage may throw his poisoned arrow at the
man whose soul exhibits a transcript of benevolence that upbraids his
own ferocity, and may boast his bloodthirsty deed among the hordes
of the forest without disgrace; but in a high stage of civilization, where
humanity is cherished, and politeness is become a science, for the
dark assassin then to level his blow at superior merit, and screen
himself in the arms of power, reflects an odium on the government
that permits it, and puts human nature to the blush.

The party had a complete triumph in this guilty deed; for though the
wounds did not prove mortal, the consequences were tenfold worse
than death. The future usefulness of this distinguished friend of his
country was destroyed, reason was shaken from its throne, genius
obscured, and the great man in ruins lived several years for his
friends to weep over, and his country to lament the deprivation of
talents admirably adapted to promote the highest interests of society.

This catastrophe shocked the feelings of the virtuous not less than it
raised the indignation of the brave. Yet a remarkable spirit of
forbearance continued for a time, owing to the respect still paid to the
opinions of this unfortunate gentleman, whose voice though always
opposed to the strides of despotism was ever loud against all
tumultuous and illegal proceedings.

He was after a partial recovery sensible himself of his incapacity for

the exercise of talents that had shone with peculiar luster, and often
invoked the messenger of death to give him a sudden release from a
life become burdensome in every view but when the calm interval of a
moment permitted him the recollection of his own integrity. In one of
those intervals of beclouded reason he forgave the murderous band,
after the principal ruffian had asked pardon in a court of justice; [On a
civil process commenced against him, John Robinson was adjudge to
pay 5000 pounds sterling damages; but Mr. Otis despising all
pecuniary compensation, relinquished it on the culprit's asking pardon
and setting his signature to a very humble acknowledgment.] and at
the intercession of the gentleman whom he had so grossly abused,
the people forbore inflicting that summary vengeance which was
generally though due to so black a crime.

Mr. Otis lived to see the independence of America, though in a state of

mind incapable of enjoying fully the glorious event which his own
exertions had precipitated. After several years of mental
derangement, as if in consequence of his own prayers, his great soul
was instantly set free by a flash of lightning, from the evils in which
the love of his country had involved him. His death took place in May,
1783, the same year the peace was concluded between Great Britain
and America.

[A sister touched by the tenderest feelings, while she has thought it

her duty to do justice to a character neglected by some, and
misrepresented by other historians, can exculpate herself from all
suspicion of partiality by the testimony of many of his countrymen
who witnessed his private merit and public exertions. But she will
however only subjoin a paragraph of a letter written to the author of
these annals, on the news of Mr. Otis' death, by John Adams, Esq.
then minister plenipotentiary from the United States to the Court of
France: "Paris, September 10, 1783 "It was, Madam, with very
afflicting sentiments I learned the death of Mr. Otis, my worthy master.
Extraordinary in death as in life, he has left a character that will never
die while the memory of the American Revolution remains; whose
foundation he laid with an energy, and with those masterly abilities,
which no other man possessed." The reader also may not be
displeased at an extemporary exclamation of a gentleman of poetic
talents on hearing of the death of Mr. Otis: "When God in anger saw
the spot, On earth to Otis given, In thunder as from Sinai's Mount, He
snatched him back to heaven."]

Though the parliamentary system of colonial regulations was in many

instance similar, and equally aimed to curtail the privileges of each
province, yet no military force had been expressly called in aid of civil
authority in any of them, except the Massachusetts. From this
circumstance some began to flatter themselves that more lenient
dispositions were operating in the mind of the King of Great Britain,
as well as in the Parliament and the people towards America in
general.

They had grounded these hopes on the strong assurances of several

of the plantation governors, particularly Lord Botetourt, who then
presided in Virginia. He had a speech to the Assembly of the colony,
in the winter of 1769, declared himself so confident that full
satisfaction would be given to the provinces in the future conduct of
administration, that he pledge his faith to support to the last hour of his
life the interest of American. He observed that he grounded his own
opinions and his assurances to them on the intimations of the
confidential servants of the King which authorized him to promise
redress. He added that to his certain knowledge his Sovereign had
rather part with his crown than preserve it by deception.

The credulity of this gentleman was undoubtedly imposed upon;

however, the Virginians, ever steady and systematic in opposition to
tyranny, were for a time highly gratified by those assurances from
their first magistrate. But their vigilance was soon called into exercise
by the mal-administration of a succeeding governor, though the
fortitude of this patriotic colony was never shaken by the frown of any
despotic master or masters. Some of the other colonies had listened
to the soothing language of moderation used by their chief executive
officers, and were for a short time influenced by that, and the
flattering hopes held up by the Governor of Virginia.

But before the period to which we have arrived in the narration of

events, these flattering appearances had evaporated with the breath
of the courtier. The subsequent conduct of administration baffled the
expectations of the credulous. The hand of government was more
heavily felt through the continent; and from South Carolina to Virginia,
and from Virginia to New Hampshire, the mandate of a minister of the
signal for the dissolution of their assemblies. The people were
compelled to resort to conventions and committees to transact all
public business, to unite in petitions for relief, or to take the necessary
preparatory steps if finally obliged to resist by arms.

In the mean time, the inhabitants of the town of Boston had suffered
almost every species of insult from the British soldiery; who,
countenanced by the royal party, had generally found means to
screen themselves from the hand of the civil officers. Thus all
authority rested on the point of the sword, and the partisans of the
Crown triumphed for a time in the plenitude of military power. Yet the
measure and the manner of posting troops in the capital of the
province, had roused such jealousy and disgust as could not be
subdued by the scourge that hung over their heads. Continual
bickerings took place in the streets between the soldiers and the
citizens; and the insolence of the first, which had been carried so far
as to excite the African slaves to murder their masters, with the
promise of impunity, [Captain Wilson of the 29th regiment was
detected in the infamous practice; and it was proved beyond a doubt
by the testimony of some respectable citizens, who declared on oath,
 that they had accidentally witnessed the offer of reward to the blacks,
by some subaltern officers, if they would rob and murder their
masters.] and the indiscretion of the last, was often productive of
tumults and disorder that led the most cool and temperate to be
apprehensive of consequences of the most serious nature.

No previous outrage had given such a general alarm, as the

commotion on March 5, 1770. Yet the accident that created a
resentment which emboldened the timid, determined the wavering,
and awakened an energy and decision that neither the artifices of the
courtier, nor the terror of the sword could easily overcome, arose from
a trivial circumstance; a circumstance which but from the
consideration that these minute accidents frequently lead to the most
important events, would be beneath the dignity of history to record.

A sentinel posted at the door of the custom house had seized and
abused a boy for casting some opprobrious reflections on an office of
rank; his cries collected a number of other lads, who took the childish
revenge of pelting the soldier with snow balls. The main guard,
stationed in the neighborhood of the custom house, was informed by
some persons from thence, of the rising tumult. They immediately
turned out under the command of a Captain Preston, and beat to
arms. Several fracas of little moment had taken place between the
soldiery and some of the lower class inhabitants, and probably both
were in a temper to avenge their own private wrongs. The cry of fire
was raised in all parts of the town. The mob collected, and the
soldiery from all quarters ran through the streets sword in hand,
threatening and wounding the people, and with every appearance of
hostility, they rushed furiously to the center of the town.

The soldiers thus ready for execution, and the populace grown
outrageous, the whole town was justly terrified by the unusual alarm.
This naturally drew out persons of higher condition and more
peaceably disposed, to inquire the cause. Their consternation can
scarcely be described when they found orders were given to fire
 promiscuously among the unarmed multitude. Five or six persons fell
at the first fire, and several more were dangerously wounded at their
own doors.

These sudden popular commotions are seldom to be justified, and

their consequences are ever to be dreaded. It is needless to make
any observations on the assumed rights of royalty in a time of peace
to disperse by military murder the disorderly and riotous assemblage
of a thoughtless multitude. The question has frequently been
canvassed; and was on this occasion thoroughly discussed by
gentlemen of the first professional abilities.

The remains of loyalty to the Sovereign of Britain were not yet

extinguished in American bosoms, neither were the feelings of
compassion which shrunk at the idea of human carnage obliterated.
Yet this outrage enkindled a general resentment that could not be
disguised; but every method that prudence could dictate was used by
a number of influential gentlemen to cool the sudden ferment to
prevent the populace from attempting immediate vengeance, and to
prevail on the multitude to retire quietly to their own houses, and wait
the decisions of law and equity. They effected their humane
purposes; the people dispersed; and Captain Preston and his party
were taken into custody of the civil magistrate. A judicial inquiry was
afterwards made into their conduct; and so far from being actuated by
any partial or undue bias, some of the first counselors at law engaged
in their defense; and after a fair and legal trial, they were acquitted of
premeditated or willful murder by a jury of the County of Suffolk.

The people, not dismayed by the blood of their neighbors thus

wantonly shed, determined no longer to submit to the insolence of
military power. Colonel Dalrymple, who commanded in Boston, was
informed the day after the riot in King Street, "that he must withdraw
his troops from the town within a limited term or hazard the
consequences."
The inhabitants of the town assembled in Faneuil Hall, where the
subject was discussed with becoming spirit, and the people
unanimously resolved that no armed force should be suffered longer
to reside in the capital; that if the King's troops were not immediately
withdrawn by their own officers, the governor should be requested to
give orders for their removal, and thereby prevent the necessity of
more rigorous steps. A committee from the body was deputed to wait
on the governor, and request him to exert that authority which the
exigencies of the times required from the supreme magistrate. Mr.
Samuel Adams, the chairman of the committee, with a pathos and
address peculiar to himself, exposed the illegality of quartering troops
in the town in the midst of peace; he urged the apprehensions of the
people, and the fatal consequences that might ensue if their removal
was delayed.

But no arguments could prevail on Mr. Hutchinson, who either from

timidity or some more censurable cause evaded acting at all in the
business and grounded his refusal on a pretended want of authority.
[See extracts of Mr. Hutchinson's letters, Note 8 at the end of this
chapter]. After which, Colonel Dalrymple, wishing to compromise the
matter, consented that the 29th regiment, more culpable than any
other in the late tumult, should be sent to Castle Island. This
concession was by no means satisfactory. The people, inflexible in
their demands, insisted that not one British soldier should be left
within the town. Their requisition was reluctantly complied with, and
within four days the whole army decamped. It is not to be supposed
that this compliance of British veterans originated in their fears of an
injured and incensed people, who were not yet prepared to resist by
arms. They were undoubtedly sensible they had exceeded their
orders and anticipated the designs of their master; they had rashly
begun the slaughter of Americans, and enkindled the flames of civil
war in a country where allegiance had not yet been renounced.

After the hasty retreat of the King's troops, Boston enjoyed, for a time,
a degree of tranquility to which they had been strangers for many
months. The commissioners of the customs and several other
obnoxious characters retired with the army to Castle William, and
their governor affected much moderation and tenderness to his
country; at the same time he neglected no opportunity to ripen the
present measures of administration or to secure his own interest,
closely interwoven therewith. The duplicity of Mr. Hutchinson as soon
after laid open by the discovery of a number of letters under his
signature, written to some individuals in the British cabinet. These
letters detected by the vigilance of some friends in England, were
procured and sent on to America. [The original letters which detected
his treachery were procured by Doctor Franklin and published in a
pamphlet at Boston. They may also be seen in the British Annual
Register, and in a large collection of historical papers printed in
London, entitled the Remembrancer. The agitation into which many
were thrown by the transmission of these letters, produced important
consequences Doctor Franklin was shamefully vilified and abused in
an outrageous philippic pronounced by Mr. Wedderburne, afterwards
Lord Longborough. Threats, challenges, and duels took place, but it
was not discovered by what means these letters fell into the hands of
Doctor Franklin, who soon after repaired to America, where he was
eminently serviceable in aid of the public cause of his native
America.]

Previous to this event there were many persons in the province who
could not e fully convinced that at the same period when he had put
on the guise of compassion to his country, when he had promised all
his influence to obtain some relaxation of the coercive system, that at
that moment Mr. Hutchinson should be so lost to the ideas of sincerity
as to be artfully plotting new embarrassments to the colonies in
general, and the most mischievous projects against the province he
was entrusted to govern. Thus conflicted as the grand incendiary
who had sown the seeds of discord, and cherished the dispute
between Great Britain an the colonies, his friends blushed at the
discovery that his enemies triumphed, and his partisans were
confounded. In these letters, he had expressed his doubt of the
propriety of suffering the colonies to enjoy all the privileges of the
parent state: he observed that "there must be an abridgment of
English liberties in colonial administration," and urged the malignant
art of necessity of the resumption of the charter of Massachusetts.

Through this and the succeeding year the British nation were much
divided in opinion relative to public measures, both at home and
abroad. Debates and animosities ran high in both houses of
parliament. Many of their best orators had come forward in defense of
America, with that eloquence and precision which provided their
ancestry, and marked the spirit of a nation that had long boasted their
own freedom. But reason and argument are feeble barriers against
the will of a monarch, or the determinations of potent aristocratical
bodies. Thus the system was fixed, the measures were ripening, and
a minister had the boldness to declare publicly that "America should
be brought to the footstool of Parliament," and humbled beneath the
pedestal of majesty. [Lord North's speech in the House of Commons].

The inhabitants of the whole American continent appeared even at

this period nearly ready for the last appeal, rather than longer to
submit to the mandates of an overbearing minister of state or the
execution of his corrupt designs. The masterly writers of this
enlightened age had so clearly defined the nature and origin of the
government, the equal claims and natural rights of man, the principles
of the British constitution, and the freedom the subject had a right to
enjoy thereby; that it had become a prevailing opinion, that
government and legislation were instituted for the benefit of society at
large, and not for the emolument of a few; and that whenever
prerogative began to stretch its rapacious arm beyond certain
bounds, it was an indispensable duty to resist.

Strongly attached to Great Britain, not only by the impression of

ancient forms and the habits of submission to government, but by
religion, manners, language, and consanguinity, the colonies still
stood suspended in the pacific hope that a change of ministry or a
new parliament might operate in their favor and restore tranquility, by
the removal of the causes and the instruments of their sufferings.
Not yet conscious of her own strength, and scarcely ambitious of
taking an independent rank among the nations, America still
cherished the flattering ideas of reconciliation. But these expectations
were finally dissipated by the repeated attempts to reduce the
colonies to unlimited submission to the supreme jurisdiction of
parliament, and the illegal exactions of the Crown, until by degrees all
parliamentary decisions became as indifferent to an American ear, as
the rescripts of a Turkish divan.

The tame acquiescence of the colonies would doubtless have given

great advantages to the corrupt party on one side of the Atlantic,
while their assiduous agents on the other did not revolt at the
meanest and most wicked compliances to facilitate the designs of
their employers or to gratify their own inordinate passion for power
and wealth. Thus for a considerable time, a struggle was kept up
between the power of one country and the perseverance of the other,
without a possibility of calculating consequences.

A particular detail of the altercations between the representatives, the

burgesses, and the provincial governors, the remonstrances of the
people, the resolves of their legislative bodies, and the dissolution of
their assemblies by the fiat of a governor, the prayers of corporate
and occulational societies, or the petitions of more public and
respectable bodies; the provocations on the side of government, and
the riotous and, in some degree, unjustifiable proceedings of the
populace, in almost every town on the continent, would be rather
tedious than entertaining, in a compendious narrative of the times. It
may, therefore, be well to pass over a year or two that produced
nothing but a sameness of complaint and a similarity of opposition on
the one side, and on the other a systematic effort to push the darling
measure of an American taxation, while neither party had much
reason to promise themselves a speedy decision.

It has already been observed that the revenue acts which had
occasioned a general murmur had been repealed, except a small
duty on all India teas, by which a claim was kept up to tax the
colonies at pleasure, whenever it should be thought expedient. This
was an articled used by all ranks in America -- a luxury of such
universal consumption that administration was led to believe that a
monopoly on the ales of tea might be so managed as to become a
productive source of revenue.

It was generally believed that governor Hutchinson had stipulated for

the agency for his sons, as they were the first in commission; and he
had solicited for them and obtained this odious employment by a
promise that if they were appointed sole agents to the East India
Company, the sales should be so executed as to give perfect
satisfaction both to them and to administration. All communities
furnish examples of men sufficiently base to share in the spoils of
their country; nor was it difficult to find such in every colony, who were
ready enough to execute this ministerial job. Thus in consequence of
the insinuations of those interested in the success of the measure, a
number of ships were employed by government to transport a large
quantity of teas into each of the American colonies. The people
throughout the continent, apprised of the design and considering at
that time all teas a pernicious article of commerce, summoned
meetings in al the capital towns and unanimously resolved to resist
the dangerous project by every legal opposition before they
proceeded to any extremities.

The firs step taken in Boston was to request the consignees to refuse
the commission. The inhabitants warmly remonstrated against the
teas being landed in any of their ports and urged the return of the
ships, without permitting them to break bulk. The commissioners at
New York, Philadelphia, an several other colonies were applied to
with similar requests; most of them complied. In some places the teas
were stored on proper conditions; in others sent back without injury.
But, in Massachusetts, their difficulties were accumulated by the
restless ambition of some of her own degenerate sons. Not the
smallest impression was made on the feelings of their governor by
the united supplications of the inhabitants of Boston and its environs.
Mr. Hutchinson, who very well knew that virtue is seldom a sufficient
restrain to the passions, but that, in spite of patriotism, reasons, or
religion, the scale too frequently preponderates in favor of interest or
appetite, persisted in the execution of his favorite project. As by force
of habit, this drug had become almost a necessary article of diet, the
demand for teas in America was astonishingly great, and the agents
in Boston, sure of finding purchasers if once the weed was deposited
in their stores, haughtily declined a resignation of office, and
determined when the ships arrived, to receive and dispose of their
cargoes at every hazard.

Before either time or discretion had cooled the general disgust at the
interested and supercilious behavior of these young pupils of intrigue,
the long-expected ships arrived which were to establish a precedent
thought dangerously consequential. Resolved not to yield to the
smallest vestige of parliamentary taxation, however disguised, a
numerous assembly of the most respectable people of Boston and its
neighborhood, repaired to the public hall, and drew up a
remonstrance to the governor, urging the necessity of his order to
send back the ships without suffering any part of their cargoes to be
landed. His answer confirmed the opinion that he was the instigator of
the measure; it irritated the spirits of the people, and tended more to
increase, than allay the rising ferment.

A few days after this, the factors had the precaution to apply to the
governor and council for protection to enable them to receive and
dispose of their consignments. As the council refused to act in the
affair, the governor called on Colonel Hancock, who commanded a
company of cadets, to hold himself in readiness to assist the civil
magistrate if any tumult should arise in consequence of any attempt to
land the teas. This gentleman, thought professedly in opposition to
the court, had oscillated between the parties until neither of them at
that time had much confidence in his exertions. It did not, however,
appear that he had any inclination to obey the summons; neither did
he explicitly refuse; but he soon after signed his commission and
continued in future, unequivocally opposed to the ministerial system.
On the appearance of this persevering spirit among the people,
Governor Hutchinson again resorted to his usual arts of chicanery
and deception; he affected a mildness of deportment, and by many
equivocal delays detained the ships and endeavored to disarm his
countrymen of that many resolution which was their principal fort.

The storage or detention of a few cargoes of teas is not a object in

itself sufficient to justify a detail of several pages; but as the
subsequent severities toward the Massachusetts were grounded on
what the ministry termed their refractory behavior on this occasion.
And as those measures were followed by consequences of the
highest magnitude both to Great Britain and the colonies. A particular
narration of the transactions of the town of Boston is indispensable.
There the sword of civil discord was first drawn, which was not
resheathed until the emancipation of the thirteen colonies from the
yoke of foreign domination was acknowledged by the diplomatic seals
of the first powers in Europe. This may apologize, if necessary, for the
appearance of locality in the preceding pages, and for it farther
continuance in regard to a colony on which the bitterest cup of
ministerial wrath was poured for a time, and where the energies of
the human mind were earlier called forth than in several of the sister
states.

Not intimidated by the frowns of greatness, nor allured by the smiles

of intrigue, the vigilance of the people was equal to the importance of
the event Though expectation was equally awake in both parties, yet
three or four weeks elapsed in a kind of inertia; the one side flattered
themselves with hopes, that as the ships were suffered to be so long
unmolested, with their cargoes entire, the point might yet be obtained;
the other thought it possible that some impression might yet be made
on the Governor, by the strong voice of the people.

Amidst this suspense a rumor was circulated that Admiral Montague

was about to seize the ships and dispose of their cargoes at public
auction within 24 hours. This step would as effectually have secured
the duties, as would as effectually have secured the duties as it sold
at the shops of the consignees, and was judged to be only a finesse,
to place them there on their own terms. On this report, convinced of
the necessity of preventing so bold an attempt, a vast body of people
convened suddenly and repaired to one of the largest and most
commodious churches in Boston; where, previous to any other steps,
many fruitless messages were sent both to the Governor and the
consignees, whose timidity had prompted them to a seclusion from
the public eye. Yet they continued to refuse any satisfactory answer;
and while the assembled multitude were in quiet consultation on the
safest mode to prevent the sale and consumption of an herb, noxious
at least to the political constitution, the debates were interrupted by
the entrance of the sheriff with an order from the Governor, styling
them an illegal assembly, and directing their immediate dispersion.

This authoritative mandate was treated with great contempt, and the
sheriff instantly hissed out of the house. A confused murmur ensured
both within and without the walls; but in a few moments all was again
quiet and the leaders of the people retuned calmly to the point in
question. Yet every expedient seemed fraught with insurmountable
difficulties and evening approaching without any decided resolution,
the meeting was adjourned without delay.

Within an hour after this as known abroad, there appeared a great

number of persons, clad like the aborigines of the wilderness, with
tomahawks in their hands, and clubs on their shoulders, who without
the least molestation marched though the streets with silent solemnity
and, amidst innumerable spectators, proceeded to the wharves,
boarded the ships, demanded the keys, and with much deliberation
knocked open the chests, and emptied several thousand weight of
the finest teas into the ocean. No opposition was made, though
surrounded by the King's ships; all was silence and dismay.

This done, the procession returned through the town in the same
order and solemnity as observed in the outset of their attempt. No
other disorder took place, and it was observed, the stillest night
ensued that Boston had enjoyed for many months. This unexpected
event struck the ministerial party with rage and astonishment; while,
as it seemed to be an attack upon private property, many who wished
well to the public cause could not fully approve the measure. Yet
perhaps the laws of self-preservation might justify the deed, as the
exigencies of the times required extraordinary exertions, and every
other method had been tried in vain to avoid this disagreeable
alternative. Besides, it was alleged, and doubtless it was true, the
people were ready to make ample compensation for all the damages
sustained, whenever the institutional duty should be taken off and
other grievances radically redressed. But there appeared little
prospect that any conciliatory advances would soon be made. The
officers of government discovered themselves more vindictive than
ever: animosities daily increased and the spirits of the people were
irritated to a degree of alienation, even from their tenderest
connections, when they happened to differ in political opinion.

By the frequent dissolution of the General Assemblies, all public

debate had been precluded and the usual regular intercourse
between the colonies cut off. The modes of legislative
communication thus obstructed at a period when the necessity of
harmony and concert was obvious to every eye, no systematical
opposition to gubernatorial intrigues supported by the king and
parliament of Great Britain, was to be expected without the utmost
concord, confidence, and union of all the colonies. Perhaps no single
step contributed so much to cement the union of the colonies and the
final acquisition of independence as the establishment of committees
of correspondence. This supported a chain of communication from
New Hampshire to Georgia that produced unanimity and energy
throughout the continent.

As in these annals there has yet been no particular mention made of

this institution, it is but justice to name at once the author, the origin,
and the importance of the measure.
At an early period of the contest, when the public mind was agitated
by unexpected events and remarkably pervaded with perplexity and
anxiety, James Warren, Esq. of Plymouth first proposed this
institution to a private friend, on a visit at his own house. [Samuel
Adams, Esq. of Boston] Mr. Warren had been an active and
influential members of the General Assembly from the beginning of
the troubles in America, which commenced soon after the demise of
George II. The principles and firmness of this gentleman were well
known and the uprightness of his character had sufficient weight to
recommend the measure. As soon as the proposal was
communicated to a number of gentlemen in Boston, it was adopted
with zeal, and spread with the rapidity of enthusiasm, from town to
town, and from province to province. [The general impulse at this time
seemed to operate by sympathy before consultation could be had;
thus it appeared afterwards that the vigilant inhabitants of Virginia
had concerted s similar plan about the same period.] Thus an
intercourse was established, by which a similarity of opinion, a
connection of interest, and a union of action appeared, that set
opposition at defiance, and defeated the machinations of their
enemies through all the colonies.

The plan suggested was clear and methodical; it proposed that a

public meeting should be called in every town; that a number of
persons should be selected by a plurality of voices; that they should
be men of respectable characters, whose attachment to the great
cause of American had been uniform; that they should be vested by a
majority of suffrages with power to take cognizance of the state of
commerce, of the intrigues of toryism, of litigious ruptures that might
create disturbances, and everything else that might be thought to
militate with the rights of the people, and to promote everything that
tended to general utility.

The business was not tardily executed. Committees were everywhere

chosen, who were directed to keep up a regular correspondence with
each other, and to give information of all intelligence received relative
to the proceedings of administration, so far as they affected the
interest of the British colonies throughout America. The trust was
faithfully and diligently discharged, and when afterwards all legislative
authority was suspended, the courts of justice shut up and the last
traits of British government annihilated in the colonies, this new
institution became a kind of juridical tribunal. Its injunctions were
influential beyond the hopes of its most sanguine friends, and the
recommendations of the committees of correspondence had the force
of law. Thus, as despotism frequently springs from anarchy, a regular
democracy sometimes arises from the severe encroachments of
despotism.

This institution had given such a general alarm to the adherents of

administration and had been replete with such important
consequences through the union, that it was justly dreaded by those
who opposed it, and considered by them as the most important
bulwark of freedom. A representation of this establishment and its
effects had been transmitted to England and laid before the King and
Parliament, and Mr. Hutchinson had received his Majesty's
disapprobation for the measure. With the hope of impeding its farther
operation, by announcing the frown and the censure of Royalty, and
for the discussion of some other important questions, the Governor
had thought proper to convene the Council and House of
Representatives, to meet in January 1773.

The Assembly of the preceding year had passed a number of very

severe resolves, when the original letters mentioned above, written
by Governor Hutchinson and Lieutenant-Governor Oliver were
detected, sent back to the Massachusetts, and laid before the
House. They had observed that "the letters contained wicked and
injurious misrepresentations, designed to influence the ministry and
the nation, and to excite jealousies in the breast of the King against
his faithful subjects." [See 11th resolve in the sessions of 1772.] They
had proceeded to an impeachment and unanimously requested that
his Majesty would be pleased to remove both Mr. Thomas Hutchinson
and Mr. Andrew Oliver from their public functions in the province,
 forever. [Journals of the House.] But before they had time to complete
their spirited measures, the Governor had, as usual, dissolved the
Assembly. This was a stretch of power, and a manifestation of
resentment that had been so frequently exercised both by Mr.
Hutchinson and his predecessor, that it was never unexpected, and
now totally disregarded. This mode of conduct was not confined to
the Massachusetts; it was indeed the common signal of resentment
exhibited by most of the colonial governors: they immediately
dissolved the legislative assemblies on the discovery of energy,
enterprise, or patriotism among the members.

When the new House of Assembly met at Boston the present year, it
appeared to be composed of the principal gentlemen and landholders
in the province; men of education and ability, of fortune and family, of
integrity and honor; jealous of the

infringement of their rights, and faithful guardians of a free people.

Their independence of mind was soon put to the test. On the opening
of the new session, the first communication from the Governor was
that he had received his Majesty's express disapprobation of all
committees of correspondence; and to enforce the displeasure of the
Monarch, he very discreetly ventured himself to censure with much
warmth this institution and every other stand that the colonies had
unitedly made to ministerial and parliamentary invasions. To
complete the climax of his own presumption, he, in a long and
labored speech, imprudently agitated the grand question of a
parliamentary right of taxation without representation; [see Note 9
"Extracts from Governor Hutchinson's letters urging his designs", at
the end of this chapter] he endeavored to justify both by law and
precedent every arbitrary step that had been taken for ten years past
to reduce the colonies to a disgraceful subjugation.

This gave a fair opening to the friends of their country which they did
not neglect, to discuss the illegality, injustice, and impolicy of the late
innovations. They entered on the debate with freedom of inquiry,
stated their claims with clearness and precision, and supported them
with such reasoning and perspicuity that a man of less hardiness than
Mr. Hutchinson would not have made a second attempt to justify so
odious a cause, or to gain such an unpopular point by dint of
argument. But whether owing to his own intemperate zeal, or whether
instigated by his superiors on the other side of the Atlantic to bring on
the dispute previous to the disclosure of some extraordinary
measures then in agitation, is uncertain. However, this was, he
supported his opinions with industry and ingenuity, and not
discouraged by strong opposition, he spun out the debate to a
tedious and ridiculous length. Far from terminating to the honor of the
Governor, his officious defense of administration served only to
indicate the necessity of the most guarded watchfulness against the
machinations of powerful and designing men; and fanned, rather than
checked the amor patriae characteristic of the times.

Soon after this altercation ended, the representative body took

cognizance of an affair that had given great disgust and created
much uneasiness through the province. By the royal charter granted
by William and Mary, the Governor, Lieutenant- Governor and
Secretary were appointed by the King; the Council were chosen by
the representatives of the people, the Governor being allowed a
negative voice; the judges, justices, and all other officers, civil and
military, were left to his nomination, and appointed by him, with the
advice and consent of a board of counselors. But as it is always
necessary in a free government that the people should retain some
means in their own hands to check any unwarrantable exercise of
power in the executive, the legislature of Massachusetts had always
enjoyed the reasonable privilege of paying their own officers
according to their ability and the services rendered to the public.

It was at this time well known that Mr. Hutchinson had so far
ingratiated himself as to entitle him to peculiar favor from the Crown;
and by a handsome salary from the King, he was rendered entirely
independent of the people. His brother-in-law, also, the Lieutenant-
Governor, had obtained by misrepresentations, thought by some to
have been little short of perjury, [See Lieutenant-Governor Oliver's
affidavit on the Council books] a pension which he had long solicited;
but chagrin at the detection of his letters and the discovery of his
duplicity soon put a period to a life that might have been useful and
exemplary, had he confined his pursuits only to the domestic walks of
life.

A strong family as well as political connection, had for some time been
forming among those who had been writing in favor of colonial
regulations and urging the creation of a patrician rank from which all
officers of government should in future be selected. Intermarriages
among their children in the near degree of consanguinity before the
parties were of age for maturity of choice had strengthened the union
of interests among the candidates for preferment. Thus by a kind of
compact, almost every department of high trust as it became vacant
by resignation, suspension or death was filled by some relation or
dependent of Governor Hutchinson; and no other qualification was
required except a suppleness of opinion and principle that could
readily bend to the measures of the Court.

But it was more recently discovered that the judges of the Superior
Court, the near relations or coadjutors of Mr. Hutchinson, and a few of
them more scrupulously delicate with regard tot he violation of the
rights of their country than himself, had taken advantage of the items
and successfully insinuated that the dignity of their offices must be
supported by an allowance from the Crown sufficient to enable them
to execute the designs of government exclusively of any dependence
on the General Assembly. In consequence of these representations,
the judges were appointed to hold their places during the King's
pleasure, and a yearly stipend was granted them to be paid out of the
new revenue to be raised in America.

The General Court had not been convened after the full disclosure of
this system before the present period; of course no constitutional
opposition could be made on the infraction of their charter until a legal
assembly had an opportunity to meet and deliberate. Uncertain how
long the intriguing spirit of the Governor would permit them to
continue in existence, the sitting assembly judged it necessary early in
the session to proceed to a parliamentary inquiry into the conduct of
their judiciary officers. Accordingly, the judges of the Supreme Court
were called upon to receive the grants for their services as usual from
the treasury of the province; to renounce all institutional salaries, and
to engage to receive no pay, pension or emolument in reward of
services as justices of the court of judicature, but from the free grants
of the legislative assembly.

Two of the judges, Trowbridge and Ropes, readily complied with the
demand and relinquished the offensive stipend. A third was William
Cushing, Esq. a gentleman rendered respectable in the eyes of all
parties by his professional abilities and general integrity. He was a
sensible, modest man, well acquainted with law, but remarkable for
the secrecy of his opinions: this kept up his reputation through all the
ebullitions of discordant parties. He readily resigned the royal stipend
without any observations of his own; yet it was thought at the time
that it was with a reluctance that his taciturnity could not conceal. By
this silent address he retained the confidence of the court faction, nor
was he less a favorite among the republicans. He was immediately
placed on the bench of justice after the assumption of government in
the Massachusetts. [The talents, the manner, and the urbanity of Mr.
Cushing procured his advancement to the supreme bench under the
new constitution afterwards adopted by the United States. In this
station he was useful to his country, and respected by every class
through all the changes of party and opinion which he lived to see.]

The next that was called forward for Foster Hutchinson, a brother of
the Governor's, a man of much less understanding and as little public
virtue; in short, remarkable for nothing but the malignancy of his
heart. He, after much altercation and abuse of the General Assembly,
complied with a very ill grace with the requisitions of the House.
But the chief seat of justice in the extraordinary administration was
occupied by a man unacquainted with law, and ignorant of the first
principles of government. [Peter Oliver, Esq. a brother-in-law of the
Governor's.] He possessed a certain credulity of mind that easily
seduced him into erroneous opinions; at the same time a frigid
obstinacy of temper that rendered him incapable of conviction. His
insinuating manners, his superficial abilities, and his implicit devotion
to the Governor, rendered him a fit instrument to give sanction by the
forms of law to the most atrocious acts of arbitrary power. Equally
deaf to the dictates of patriotism and to the united voice of the people,
he peremptorily refused to listen to the demands of their
representatives; and boldly declared his resolution to receive an
annual grant from the Crown of England in spite of the opinions or
resentment of his country: he used as an excuse the depreciation of
his private fortune by his judicial attentions. His station was important
and influential and his temerity was considered as holding a bribe to
execute the corrupt measures of the British Court.

The House of Representatives not interrupted in their system, nor

intimidated by the presumption of the delinquent, proceeded directly
to exhibit articles of impeachment against Peter Oliver, Esq. accusing
him of high crimes and misdemeanors, and laid their complaints
before the Governor and Council. On a division of the House there
appeared 92 members in favor of the measure and only 8 against it.
The Governor, as was expected, both from personal attachment and
a full approbation of Mr. Oliver's conduct, refused to act or sit on the
business; for course all proceedings were for a time suspended.

When a detail of these spirited measures reached England,

exaggerated by the colorings of the officers of the Crown, it threw the
nation, more especially the trading part, into a temporary fever. The
ministry rose in their resentment, and entered on the most severe
steps against the Massachusetts, and more particularly the town of
Boston. It was at this period that Lord North ushered into the House of
Commons the memorable bill for shutting up the port of Boston, also
the bill for better
regulating the government of the Massachusetts.

The port bill enacted that after June 1, 1774, "Every vessel within the
points Alderton and Nahant, (the boundaries of the harbor of Boston,)
should depart within six hours, unless laden with food or fuel." That
no merchandise should be taken in or discharged at any of the
stores, wharves, or quays within those limits; and that any ship, barge
of boat attempting to convey from other parts of America either stores,
goods or merchandise to Boston (one of the largest maritime towns
on the continent) should be deemed a legal forfeiture to the Crown.

This act was opposed with becoming zeal by several in both Houses
of Parliament, who still inherited the generous spirit of their ancestors,
and darted to stand forth the defenders of English liberty, in the most
perilous seasons. Though the cruelty and injustice of this step was
warmly criminated, the minister and his party urged the necessity of
strong measures; nor was it difficult to obtain a large majority to
enforce them. An abstract of an act for the more impartial
administration of justice in the province of Massachusetts
accompanied the port bill. Thus by one of those severe and arbitrary
acts, many thousands of the best and most loyal subjects of the
House of Brunswick were at once cut off from the means of
subsistence; poverty stared in the face of affluence, and a long train
of evils threatened every rank. No discriminations were made; the
innocent were equally involved with the real or imputed guilty, and
reduced to such distresses afterwards that, but from the charitable
donations of the other colonies, multitudes must have inevitably
perished.

The other bill directed that on an indictment for riot, resistance of the
magistrate, or impeding the laws of revenue in the smallest degree
any person at the option of the Governor, or, in his absence, the
Lieutenant-Governor, might be transported to Great Britain for trial,
and there be ordered to wait amidst his foes, the decisions of
strangers unacquainted with the character of the prisoner, or the
turpitude of a crime, that should subject him to be transported a
thousand leagues from his own vicinity, for a final decision on the
charges exhibited against him. Several of the southern colonies
remonstrated warmly against those novel proceedings toward the
Massachusetts, and considered it as a common cause. The House of
Burgesses in Virginia vigorously opposed this measure and passed
resolutions expressing "their exclusive right to tax their constituents,
and their right to petition their Sovereign for redress of grievances,
and the lawfulness of procuring the concurrence of the other colonies
in praying for the Royal interposition in favor of the violated rights of
America: and that all trials for treasons, or for any crime whatsoever
committed in that colony ought to be before his Majesty's courts
within the said colony; and that the seizing any persons residing in
the said colony, suspected of any crime whatsoever committed
therein, and sending such person to places beyond the sea to be
tried, was highly derogatory of the rights of British subjects."

These acts were to continue in full force until satisfaction should be

made to the East India Company for the loss of their teas; nor were
any assurances given that in case of submission and compliance
they should be repealed. The indignation which naturally arose in the
minds of the people on these unexpected and accumulated
grievances was truly inexpressible. It was frequently observed that
the only melioration of the present evils was that the recall of Mr.
Hutchinson accompanied the bills and his leaving the province at the
same period the port bill was to be put in operation seemed to
impress a dawn of hope from time, if not from his immediate
successor.

Every historical record will doubtless witness that he was the principal
author of the sufferings of the unhappy Bostonians, previous to the
convulsions which produced the revolution. So deeply rooted was
this opinion among his enraged countrymen that many apprehended
the summary vengeance of an incensed populace would not suffer so
notorious a parricide to repair quietly to England. Yet such were the
generous and compassionate feelings of a people too virtuous to
punish without a legal process that he escaped the blow he had
reason to fear would overtake him when stripped of authority and no
longer acting as the representative of Majesty.

Chagrined by the loss of place, mortified by the neglect of some and

apprehensive from the resentment of others, he retired to a small
village in the neighborhood of Boston, and secluded himself from
observation until he embarked for London. This he did on the same
memorable day when by act of parliament the blockade of Boston
took place. Before his departure, the few partisans that still adhered to
the man and his principles procured by much assiduity a
complimentary address, thanking him for past services and held up to
him the idea that by his talents he might

obtain a redress of grievances, which they well knew had been drawn
on their country by the agency of Mr. Hutchinson. Much derision fell
on the character of this group of flatterers, who were long
distinguished only by the appellation of Hutchinson's addressers.

Mr. Huthcinson, furnished with these pitiful credentials, left his native
country forever. On his arrival in England, he was justified and
caressed by his employers; and notwithstanding the criminality of his
political conduct had been so fully evinced by the detection and
recovery of his original letters, his impeachment, which was laid
before the Lords of the Privy-Council, was considered by them in a
very frivolous light. A professional character, by some thought to have
been hired for the purpose, was permitted to abuse the petitioners
and their agent in the grossest terms scurrility could invent; and the
Lords reported that "the petition is groundless, vexatious, and
scandalous, and calculated only for the seditious purposes of keeping
up a spirit of discontent ...; that nothing had been laid before them
which did or could, in their opinion, in any manner or in any degree
impeach the honor, integrity or conduct of the Governor or
Lieutenant-Governor;" who had been at the same time impeached.
But eh operation of his measures, while Governor of the
Massachusetts, was so productive of misfortune to Great Britain, as
well as to the united colonies, that Mr. Hutchinson soon became the
object of disgust to all parties. He did not live to see the
independence of America established, but he lived long enough to
repent in bitterness of soul that part he had acted against a country
once disposed to respect his character. After his mind had been
involved many months in a state of chagrin, disappointment, and
despair, he died on the day the riots in London, excited by Lord
George Gordon, were at the height, in the year 1780. Those of the
family who survived their unhappy father remained in obscurity in
England.

It must, however, be acknowledged that Governor Hutchinson was

uniform in his political conduct. He was educated in reverential ideas
of monarchic government, and considered himself the servant of a
King who had entrusted him with very high authority. As a true
disciple of passive obedience, he might think himself bound to
promote the designs of his master, and thus he might probably
release his conscience from the obligation to aid his countrymen in
their opposition to the encroachments of the crown. In the eye of
candor, he may therefore be much more excusable than any who
may deviate from their principles and professions of republicanism,
who have not been biased by the patronage of kings, nor influenced
in favor of monarchy by their early prejudices of education or
employment.

*******************************

Note 8

A few extracts form the letters of Mr. Hutchinson to Mr. Jackson,

Bollan, and others, the year previous to the disturbance in March,
1770, fully evince his sentiments of stationing and retaining troops in
the capital of the Massachusetts.

"Boston, January 1769

"Dear Sir, "I sent you under a blank cover, by way of Bristol and
Glasgow, the account of proceedings in New York Assembly, which
you will find equal to those of the Massachusetts Perhaps if they had
no troops, the people too would have run riot as we did. Five or six
men of war, and three or four regiments disturb nobody but some of
our grave people, who do not love assemblies and concerts, and
cannot bear the noise of drums upon a Sunday. I know I have not
slept in town any three months these two years, in so much tranquility
as I have done the three months since the troops came."

Extract of a letter from Mr. Bollan to Mr. Hutchinson.

"Henrietta Street, August 11, 1767

"Mr. Paxton has several times told me that you and some other of my
friends were of opinion that standing troops were necessary to
support the authority of the government at Boston and that he was
authorized to inform me this was your and their opinion. I need not
say that I hold in the greatest abomination such outrages that have
taken place among you, and am sensible it is the duty of all charter or
other subordinate governments to take due care and punish such
proceedings; and that all governments must be supported by force,
when necessary; yet we must remember how often standing forces
have introduced greater mischiefs than they retrieved, and I am
apprehensive that your distant situation from the center of all civil and
military power, might in this case, sooner or later, subject you to
peculiar difficulties.

"When Malcolm's bad behavior made a stir here, a minister who

seemed inclined to make use of standing forces, supposing this might
not be agreeable to me, I avoided giving an opinion, which then
appeared needless and improper, but afterwards, when it was
confidently said, that preparations were making to send a
considerable number of standing troops in order to compel
obedience, I endeavored to prevent it."

Mr. Bolan goes on to observe that "he had informed some influential
gentlemen in England that he had the highest reason to believe that
whoever should be instrumental in sending over standing troops to
America would be cursed to all posterity."

Extract from Governor Hutchinson's letters to Governor Pownal. It is

uncertain on what occasion the following assertion was made, but it
discovered the spirit and wishes of the writer.

"Boston, June 22, 1772

"The union of the colonies is pretty well broken; I hope I shall never
see it renewed. Indeed our sons of liberty are hated and despised by
their former brethren in New York and Pennsylvania, and it must be
something very extraordinary ever to reconcile them."

**************************

Note 9

Extracts from Mr. Hutchinson's letters to Mr. Jackson, Pownal, and

others

"Boston, August 27, 1772

"But before America is settled in peace, it would be necessary to go to

the bottom of all the disorder which has been so long neglected
already. The opinion that every colony has a legislature within itself,
the acts an doings of which are not to be controlled by Parliament
and that no legislative power ought to be exercised over the colonies,
except by their respective legislatures gains ground every day, and it
has an influence upon all the executive parts of government. Grand
juries will not present; petit juries will not convict the highest offenders
against acts of Parliament; our newspapers publicly announce this
independence every week; and, what is much more, there is scarce
an assembly which has not done it at one time or another. The
assembly of this province has done as much the last session by their
public votes and resolves, and by an address which they have sent to
Doctor Franklin to be presented to the King; so there is sufficient
grounds for Parliament to proceed, if there is a disposition. What, it
will be said, can be done? A test as general as the oaths required
instead of the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, would be most
effectual; but this there is reason to fear would throw American into a
general confusion, and I doubt the expediency. But can less be done
than affixing penalties and disqualifications or incapacities upon all
who by word or writing shall deny or call in question the supreme
authority of parliament over all parts of the British dominions? Can it
be made necessary for all judges to be under oath, to observe all acts
of Parliament in their judgments? And may not the oaths of all jurors,
grand and petit, be so framed as to include acts of Parliament as the
rule of law, as well as law in general terms? And for assemblies or
bodies of men, who shall deny the authority of Parliament, may not all
their subsequent proceedings be declared to be ipso facto null and
void, and every member who shall continue to act in such assembly
be subject to penalties an incapacities? I suggest these things for
consideration. everything depends on the settlement of this grand
point. We owe much of our troubles to the countenance given by
some in England to this doctrine of independence. If the people were
convinced that the nation with one voice condemned the doctrine, or
that Parliament at all events, was determined to maintain its
supremacy, we should soon be quiet. The demagogues who
generally have no property would continue their endeavors to inflame
the minds of the people for some time; but the people in general have
real estates, which they would not run the hazard of forfeiting, by any
treasonable measures. If nothing more can be done, there must be
further provisions for carrying the Act of Trade into execution, which I
am informed administration are very sensible of, and have measures
in contemplation. Thus you have a few of my sudden thoughts, which
I must pray you not to communicate as coming form me, lest I should
be supposed here to have contributed to any future proceedings
respecting America. I have only room to add that I am, with sincere
respect and esteem, Yours, etc."

"Boston, December 8, 1772

"To Mr. Jackson (private)

"Dear Sir,

"They succeed in their unwearied endeavors to propagate the doctrine

of independence upon Parliament, and the mischiefs of it every day
increase. I believe I have repeatedly mentioned to you my opinion of
the necessity of Parliament's taking some measures to prevent the
spread of this doctrine as well as to guard against the mischiefs of it.
It is more difficult now than it was the last year, and it will become
more and more so every year it is neglected, until it is utterly
impracticable. If I consulted nothing but my own ease and quiet, I
would propose neglect and contempt of every affront offered to
Parliament by the little American assemblies, but I should be false to
the King, and betray the trust he has reposed in me. ...

"You see no difference between the case of the colonies and that of
Ireland. I care not how favorable a light you look upon the colonies, if
it does not separate us form you. You will certainly find it more
difficult to retain the colonies than you do Ireland. Ireland is near and
under your constant inspection. All officers are dependent, and
removable at pleasure. The colonies are remote, and the officers
 generally more disposed to please the people than the King or his
representative. In the one, you have always the ultimate ratio; in the
other, you are either destitute of it, or you have no civil magistrate to
direct the use of it. Indeed, to prevent a general revolt, the naval
power may for a long course of years be sufficient, but to preserve
the peace of the colonies, and to continue them beneficial to the
mother country, this will be to little purpose; but I am writing to a
gentleman who knows these things better than I do."

"Boston, January 1773

"John Pownal, Esquire

"My Dear Sir,

I have not answered your very kind and confidential letter of the 6th of
October. Nothing could confirm me more in my own plan of
measures for the colonies than finding it to agree with your
sentiments. You know I have been begging for measures to maintain
the supremacy of Parliament. While it is suffered to be denied, all is
confusion, and the opposition to government is continually gaining
strength."

"Boston, April 19, 1773

"John Pownal, Esquire

"Dear Sir,

"Our patriots say that the votes of the town of Boston, which they sent
to Virginia, have produced the resolves of the assembly there,
appointing a committee of correspondence; and I have no doubt it is
their expectation that a committee for the same purpose will be
appointed by most of the other assemblies on the continent. If
anything therefore be done by Parliament respecting America, it now
seems necessary that it should be general, and not confined to
particular colonies, as the same spirit prevails everywhere, though
not in the like degree."

"Boston, October 18, 1773

"John Pownal, Esquire (private)

"Dear Sir,

"The leaders of the party give out openly that they must have another
convention of all the colonies; and the speaker has made it known to
several of the members that the agent in England recommends it as
a measure necessary to be engaged in without delay, and proposes,
in order to bring the dispute to a crisis, that the rights of the colonies
should be there solemnly and fully asserted and declared; that there
should be a firm engagement with each other, that they will never
grant any aid to the Crown, even in case of war, unless the King and
the two houses of Parliament first recognize those rights; and that the
resolution should be immediately communicated to the Crown; and
assures them that in this way they will finally obtain their end.

"I am not fond of conveying this sort of intelligence; but as I have the
fullest evidence of the fact, I do not see how I can be faithful to my
trust and neglect it; therefore, though I consider this as a private
letter, yet I leave it to you to communicate this part of it, so far as His
Majesty's service may require, and as I have nothing but that in view,
I wish it may go no further. the measure appears to me, of all others,
the most likely to rekindle a general flame in the colonies."

These above extracts were taken form Governor Hutchinson's letter

book, found after he repaired to England, deposited in a secret corner
of his house in Milton. If the reader wishes a further gratification of
his curiosity in regard to the subtle stratagems of Mr. Hutchinson, he
is referred to the whole collection, as published in England.

___________________

Chapter Five: General Gage appointed Governor of Massachusetts.

General Assembly meets at Salem. A proposal for a Congress from
all the Colonies to be convened at Philadelphia. Mandamus
Counselors obliged to resign. Resolutions of the General Congress.
Occasional Observations. The Massachusetts attentive to the military
discipline of their youth. Suffolk Resolves. A Provincial Congress
chosen in the Massachusetts. Governor Gage summons a new
House of Representatives.

The speculatist and the philosopher frequently observe a casual

subordination of circumstances independent of political decision,
which fixes the character and manners of nations. This thought may
be piously improved till it leads the mind to view those causalities
directed by a secret hand which points the revolutions of time and
decides the fate of empires. The occasional instruments for the
completion of the grand system of Providence have seldom any other
stimulus but the bubble of fame, the lust of wealth, or some
contemptible passion that centers in self. Event he bosom of virtue
warmed by higher principles and the man actuated by nobler motives
walks in a narrow sphere of comprehension. The scale by which the
ideas of mortals are circumscribed generally limits his wishes to a
certain point without consideration, or a just calculation of extensive
consequences.

Thus while the King of Great Britain was contending with the colonies
for a three-penny duty on tea, and the Americans with the bold spirit
of patriotism resisting an encroachment on their rights, the one
thought they only asked a moderate and reasonable indulgence from
their Sovereign, which they had a right to demand if withheld; on the
other side, the most severe and strong measures were adopted and
exercised towards the colonies, which parliament considered as only
the proper and necessary chastisement of rebellious subjects. Thus
on the eve of one of the most remarkable revolutions recorded in the
pages of history, a revolution which Great Britain precipitated by her
indiscretion and which the hardiest sons of America viewed in the
beginning of opposition as a work reserved for the enterprising hand
of posterity, few on either side comprehended the magnitude of the
contest, and fewer still had the courage to name the independence of
the American colonies as the ultimatum of their designs.

After the spirits of men had been wrought up to a high tone of

resentment by repeated injuries on the one hand, and an open
resistance on the other, there was little reason to expect a ready
compliance with regulations, repugnant to the feelings, the principles,
and the interest of Americans. The parliament of Britain therefore
thought it expedient to enforce obedience by the sword and
determined to send out an armament sufficient for the purpose early
in the spring of 1774. The subjugation of the colonies by arms was
yet considered in England by some as a work of such facility that four
or five regiments, with a few ships of the line were equal to the
business, provided they were commanded by officers who had not
sagacity enough to judge of the impropriety of the measures of
administration, nor humanity to feel for the miseries of the people or
liberality to endeavor to mitigate the rigors of government. In
consequence of this opinion, Admiral Montague was recalled from
Boston and Admiral Graves appointed to succeed, whose character
was known to be more avaricious, severe, and vigilant than his
predecessor, and in all respects a more fit instrument to execute the
weak, indigested and irritating system.

General Gage, unhappily for himself, as will appear in the sequel, was
selected as a proper person to take the command of all his Majesty's
forces in North America, and reduce the country to submission. He
had married a lady of respectable connections in New York, and had
held with considerable reputation for several years a military
employment in the colonies. He was at this time appointed governor
and commander in chief of the province of Massachusetts Bay;
directed to repair immediately there, and on his arrival to remove the
seat of government from Boston, and to convene the General
Assembly to meet at Salem, a smaller town, situated about twenty
miles from the capital. The Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, the
Secretary, the Board of Commissioners, and all crown officers were
ordered by special mandate to leave Boston and make the town of
Salem the place of their future residence.

A few days before the annual election for May 1774, the new
Governor of the Massachusetts arrived. He was received by the
inhabitants of Boston with the same respect that had been usually
shown to those who were dignified by the title of the King's
representative. An elegant entertainment was provided at Faneuil Hall,
to which he was escorted by a company of cadets and attended with
great civility by the magistrates and principal gentlemen of the town;
and though jealousy, disgust and resentment burnt in the bosom of
one party, the most unwarrantable designs occupied the thoughts of
the other, yet the appearance of politeness and good humor was kept
up through the etiquette of the day.

The week following was the anniversary of the general election,

agreeable to charter. The day was ushered in with the usual parade,
and the House of Representatives proceeded to business in the
common form: but a specimen of the measures to be expected from
the new administration appeared in the first act of authority recorded
of Governor Gage. A list of counselors was presented for his
approbation, from which he erased the names of thirteen gentlemen
out of twenty-eight, unanimously chosen by the free voice of the
representatives of the people, leaving only a quorum as established
by charter, or it was apprehended, in the exercise of his new
prerogative he might have annihilated the whole. Most of the
gentlemen on the negatived list had been distinguished for their
attachment to the ancient constitution, and their decided opposition to
the present ministerial measures. Among them was James Bowdoin
Esq. whose understanding, discernment and conscientious
deportment rendered him a very unfit instrument for the view of the
court at this extraordinary period. John Winthrop, Hollisian professor
of mathematics and natural philosophy at Cambridge; his public
conduct was but the emanation of superior genius, united with an
excellent heart, as much distinguished for every private virtue as for
his attachment to the liberties of a country that may glory in giving
birth to a man of exalted character. [Dr. Winthrop was lineally
descended from the first governor of Massachusetts, and inherited
the virtues and talents of his great ancestor, too well known to need
any encomium.] Colonel Otis of Barn stable, whose name has been
already mentioned; and John Adams, a barrister at law of rising
abilities; his appearance on the theater of politics commenced at this
period; we shall meet him again in still more dignified stations. These
gentlemen had been undoubtedly pointed out as obnoxious to
administration by the predecessor of Governor Gage, as he had not
been long enough in the province to discriminate characters.

The House of Representatives did not think proper to replace the

members of Council by a new choice; they silently bore this indiscreet
exercise of authority, sensible it was but a prelude to the impending
storm. The Assembly was the next day adjourned for a week; at the
expiration of that time, they were directed to meet at Salem. In the
interim the Governor removed himself and the whole band of revenue
and crown officers deserted the town of Boston at once, as a place
devoted to destruction.

Every external appearance of respect was still kept up towards the

new Governor. The Council, the House, the judiciary officers, the
mercantile and other bodies prepared and offered congratulatory
addresses as usual, on the recent arrival of the commander in chief
at the seat of government. The incense was received both at Boston
and Salem with the usual satisfaction, except the address from the
remaining Board of Councilors; this was checked with asperity, and
the reading it through forbidden, as the composition contained some
strictures on administration, and censured rather too freely for the
delicate ear of an infant magistrate the conduct of some of his
predecessors. But this was the last compliment of the kind ever
offered by either branch of the legislature of the Massachusetts to a
governor appointed by the King of Great Britain. No marks of
ministerial resentment had either humbled or intimidated the spirits,
nor shook the intrepidity of mind necessary for the times; and though
it was first called into action in the Massachusetts, it breathed its
influence through all the colonies. They all seemed equally prepared
to suffer and equally determined to resist in unison, if no means but
that of absolute submission was to be the test of loyalty.

The first day of June, 1774, the day when the Boston port bill began to
operate, was observed in most of the colonies with uncommon
solemnity as a day of fasting and prayer. In all of them, sympathy and
indignation, compassion and resentment alternately arose in every
bosom. A zeal to relieve and an alacrity to support the distressed
Bostonians seemed to pervade the whole continent, except the
dependents on the Crown, and their partisans, allured by interest to
adhere to the royal cause. There were indeed a few others in every
colony led to unite with and to think favorably of the measures of
administration from their attachment to monarchy, in which they had
been educated; and some there were who justified all things done by
the hand of power, either from fear, ignorance, or imbecility.

The session at Salem was of short duration, but it was a busy and an
important period. The leading characters in the House of
Representatives contemplated the present moment, replete with
consequences of the utmost magnitude. They judged it a crisis that
required measures bold and decisive, though hazardous, and that the
extrication of their country from the designs of their enemies
depended much on the conduct of the present assembly. Their
charter was on the point of annihilation. A military governor had just
arrived with troops on the spot to support the arbitrary systems of the
Court of St. James.
These appearances had a disagreeable effect on some who had
before cooperated with the patriots; they began to tremble at the
power and severity of Britain, at a time when firmness was most
required, zeal indispensable, and secrecy necessary. Yet those who
possessed the energies of mind requisite for the completion or the
defeat of great designs had not their ardor or resolution shaken in the
smallest degree by either dangers, threats, or caresses. It was a
prime object to select a few members of the House that might be
trusted most confidentially on any emergency. This task fell to Mr.
Samuel Adams of Boston and Mr. Warren of Plymouth. They drew off
a few chosen spirits who met at a place appointed for a secret
conference. [Among these the names of Hancock, Cushing, and
Halwey, of Sullivan, Robert Payne, and Benjamin Greenleaf of
Newburyport and many others should not be forgotten, but ought
always to be mentioned with respect, for their zeal at this critical
moment.] Several others were introduced the ensuing evening, when
a discussion of circumstances took place. Immediate decision and
effectual modes of action were urged and such caution energy and
dispatch were observed by this daring and dauntless secret council
that on the third evening of their conference their business was ripe
for execution.

This committee had digested a plan for a general congress from all
the colonies to consult on the common safety of America; named their
own delegates; and as all present were convinced of the necessity
and expediency of such a convention, they estimated the expense,
and provided funds for the liquidation, prepared letters to the other
colonies, enforcing the reasons for their strong confederacy, and
disclosed their proceedings to the House, before the governmental
party had the least suspicion of their designs. [ Such a remarkable
coincidence of opinion, energy, and zeal

existed between the provinces of Virginia and the Massachusetts that

their measures and resolutions were often similar, previous to the
opportunity ;for conference. Thus the propriety of a general congress
had been discussed and agreed upon by the Virginians before they
were informed of the resolutions of Massachusetts. Some of the other
colonies had contemplated the same measure without any previous
consultation.] Before the full disclosure of the business they were
upon, the doors of the House were locked, and a vote passed, that no
one should be suffered to enter or retire until a final determination
took place on the important questions before them. When these
designs were opened, the partisans of administration then in the
House were thunderstruck with measures so replete with ability and
vigor and that wore such as aspect of high and dangerous
consequences.

These transactions might have been legally styled treasonable, but

loyalty had lost its influence and power its terrors. Firm and
disinterested, intrepid and united, they stood ready to submit to the
chances of war and to sacrifice their devoted lives to preserve
inviolate and to transmit to posterity the inherent rights of men
conferred on all by the God of nature and the privileges of
Englishmen, claimed by Americans from the sacred sanctions of
compact.

When the measures agitated in the secret conference were laid before
the House of Representatives, one of the members, a devotee to all
governors, pretended a sudden indisposition and requested leave to
withdraw. He pleaded the necessities of nature, was released from
his uneasy confinement, and ran immediately to Governor Gate with
information of the bold and high-handed proceedings of the lower
house. The Governor, not less alarmed than the sycophant at these
unexpected maneuvers, instantly directed the Secretary to dissolve
the Assembly by proclamation.

Finding the doors of the House closed and no prospect of admittance

for him, the Secretary desired the door keeper to acquaint the House
he had a message from the Governor and requested leave to deliver
it. The Speaker replied that it was the order of the House that no one
should be permitted to enter on any pretense whatever before the
business they were upon was fully completed. Agitated and
embarrassed, the Secretary then read on the stairs a proclamation for
the immediate dissolution of the General Assembly.

The main point gained, the delegates for a congress chosen, supplies
for their support voted, and letters to the other colonies requesting
them to accord in these measures, signed by the Speaker, the
members cheerfully dispersed and returned to their constituents,
satisfied that, notwithstanding the precipitant dissolution of the
Assembly, they had done all that the circumstances of the times
would admit, to remedy the present and guard against future evils.

This early step to promote the general interest of the colonies and lay
the foundation of union and concord in all their subsequent
transactions will ever reflect luster on the characters of those who
conducted it with such firmness and decision. It was indeed a very
critical era: nor were those gentlemen insensible of the truth of the
observation that "whoever has a standing army at command has or
may have the state." Nor were they less sensible that in the present
circumstance while they acknowledged themselves the subjects of
the King of England, their conduct must be styled rebellion and that
death must be the inevitable consequence of defeat. Yet life was then
considered a trivial stake in competition with liberty.

All the old colonies except Georgia readily acceded to the proposal of
calling a general congress. They made immediate exertions that
there might be no discord in the councils of the several provinces and
that their opposition should be consistent, spirited and systematical.
Most of them had previously laid aside many of their local prejudices
and by public resolves and various other modes had expressed their
disgust at the summary proceedings of Parliament against the
Massachusetts. They reprobated the port bill in terms of detestation,
raised liberal contributions for the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and
continued their determinations to support that province at every
hazard through the conflict in which they were involved.

In conformity to the coercive system, the governors of all the colonies

frowned on the sympathetic part the several legislative bodies had
been disposed to take with the turbulent descendants, as they were
pleased to style the Massachusetts, of puritans, republicans and
regicides. Thus most of the colonial assemblies had been petulantly
dissolved, nor could any applications from the people prevail on the
supreme magistrate to suffer the representatives and burgesses to
meet, and in a legal capacity deliberate on measures most consistent
with loyalty and freedom. But this persevering obstinacy of the
governors did not retard the resolutions of the people; they met in
parishes, and selected persons from almost every town to meet in
provincial conventions and there to make choice of suitable delegates
to meet in general congress.

The beginning of autumn, 1774 was the time appointed, and the city
of Philadelphia chosen as the most central and convenient place for
this body to meet and deliberate at so critical a conjuncture. Yet such
as the attachment to Britain, the strength of habit, and the influence of
ancient forms; such the reluctant dread of spilling human blood,
which at that period was universally felt in America, that there were
few who did not ardently wish some friendly intervention might yet
prevent a rupture which probably might shake the empire of Britain
and waste the inhabitants on both sides of the Atlantic.

At the early period, there were some who viewed the step of their
summoning a general congress, under existing circumstances of
peculiar embarrassment, as a prelude to a revolution which appeared
pregnant with events that might affect not only the political systems
but the character and manners of a considerable part of the habitable
globe. [This observation has since been verified in the remarkable
revolution in France -- a struggle fro freedom on one side and the
combinations of European monarch on the other, to depress and
eradicate the spirit of liberty caught in America, was displayed to the
world. Nor was any of the combination of princes at the Treaty of
Piloting more persevering in the cause of despotism than the King of
Great Britain.]

America was then little known, her character, ability, and police less
understood abroad. But she soon became the object of attention
among the potentates of Europe, the admiration of both the
philosophic and the brave, and her fields of theater of fame
throughout the civilized world. Her principles were disseminated: the
seeds sown in America ripened in the more cultivated grounds of
Europe, and inspired ideas among the enslaved nations that have
long trembled at the name of the bastate and the bastinado. This may
finally lead to the completion of prophetic predictions and spread
universal liberty and peace as far at least as is compatible with the
present state of human nature. The wild vagaries of the perfectibility
of man, so long as the passions to which the species are liable play
about the hearts of all, may be left to the dreaming scholiast who
wanders in search of impracticable theories. He may remain
entangled in his own web, while that rational liberty, to which all have
a right, may be exhibited and defended by men of principle and
heroism who better understand the laws of social order.

Through the summer previous to the meeting of Congress, no

expressions of loyalty to the Sovereign or affection to the parent state
were neglected in their public declarations. Yet the colonies seemed
to be animated as it were by one soul to train their youth to arms, to
withhold all commercial connection with Great Britain, and to cultivate
that unanimity necessary to bind society when ancient forms are
relaxed of broken and the common safety required the assumption of
new modes of government. But while attentive to the regulations of
their internal economy and police, each colony beheld with a friendly
and compassionate eye, the severe struggles of the Massachusetts
where the arm of power was principally leveled and the ebullitions of
ministerial resentment poured forth as if to terrify the sister provinces
into submission.
Not long after the dissolution of the last Assembly ever convened in
that province on the principles of their former charter, Admiral Graves
arrived in Boston with several ships of the line and a number of
transports laden with troops, military stores, and all warlike
accouterments. The troops landed peaceably, took possession of the
open grounds, and formed several encampments within the town.

At the same time arrived the bill for new modeling the government of
the Massachusetts. By this bill, their former charter was entirely
vacated: a council of 36 members was appointed by mandamus to
hold their places during the King's pleasures; all judges, justices,
sheriffs, etc. were to be appointed by the Governor, without the
advice of council, and to be removed at his sole option. Jurors in
future were to be named by the sheriff, instead of the usual and more
impartial mode of drawing them by lot. All town-meetings without
express leave from the governor were forbidden, except those
annually held in the spring for the choice of representatives and town-
officers. Several other violations of the former compact completed the
system.

This new mode of government, though it had been for some time
expected, occasioned such loud complaints, such universal murmurs
that several of the newly appointed counselors had not the courage to
accept places which they were sensible would reflect disgrace on
their memory. Tow of them [These were James Russell, Esq. of
Charlestown, and William Vassal, Esq. of Boston.] seemed really to
decline from principle and publicly declared they would have no hand
in the dereliction of the rights of their country. Several others
relinquished their seats for fear

of offending their countrymen. But most of them, selected by Mr.

Hutchinson as proper instruments for the purpose, were destitute of
all ideas of public virtue. They readily took the qualifying oaths and
engaged to lend their hand to erase the last vestige of freedom in that
devoted province.
The people, still firm and undaunted, assembled in multitudes and
repaired to the houses of the obnoxious counselors. They demanded
an immediate resignation of their unconstitutional appoints, and a
solemn assurance that they would never accept any office
incompatible with the former privileges enjoyed by their country.
Some of them, terrified by the resolution of the people, complied and
remained afterwards quiet and unmolested in their own houses.
Others, who had prostrated all principle in the hope of preferment and
were hardy enough to go every length to secure it, conscious of the
guilty part they had acted, made their escape into Boston, where they
were sure of the protection of the King's troops. Indeed that unhappy
town soon became the receptacle of all the devotees to ministerial
measures from every part of the province: they there consoled
themselves with the barbarous hope that Parliament would take the
severest measures to enforce their own acts, nor were these hopes
unfounded.

It has been observed that by the late edict for the better administration
of justice in the Massachusetts, any man was liable on the slightest
suspicion of treason or misprision of treason, to be dragged from his
own family or vicinity to any part of the King of England's dominions
for trial. It was now reported that General Gage had orders to arrest
the leading characters in opposition and transport them beyond sea
and that a reinforcement of troops might be hourly expected sufficient
to enable him to execute all the mad projects of a rash and
unprincipled ministry.

Though the operation of this system in its utmost latitude was daily
threatened and expected, it made little impression on a people
determined to withhold even a tacit consent to any infractions on their
charter. They considered the present measures as a breach of a
solemn covenant, which at the same time that it subjected them to
the authority of the King of England, stipulated to them the equal
enjoyment of all the rights and privileges of free and natural-born
subjects. They chose to hazard the consequences of returning back
to a state of nature, rather than quietly submit to unjust and arbitrary
measures continually accumulating. This was a dangerous
experiment, though they were sensible that the necessities of man
will soon restore order and subordination, even from confusion and
anarchy: on the contrary, the yoke of despotism once riveted, no
human sagacity can justly calculate its termination.

While matters hung in this suspense, the people in all the shire towns
collected in prodigious numbers to prevent the sitting of the courts of
common law; forbidding the justices to meet, or the jurors to impanel,
and obliging all civil magistrates to bind themselves by oath not to
conform to the late acts of Parliament in any judiciary proceedings;
and all military officers were called upon to resign their commissions.
Thus were the bands of society relaxed, law set at defiance, and
government unhinged throughout the province. Perhaps this may be
marked in the annals of time as one of the most extraordinary ears in
the history of man: the exertions of spirit awakened by the severe
hand of power had led to that most alarming experiment of leveling all
ranks, and destroying all subordination.

It cannot be denied that nothing is more difficult than to restrain the

provoked multitude when once aroused by a sense of wrong, from
the supineness which generally over spreads the common class of
mankind. Ignorant and fierce, they know not in the first ebullitions of
resentment how to repel with safety the arm of the oppressor. It is a
work of time to establish a regular opposition to long-established
tyranny. A celebrated writer has observed that "men bear with the
defects in their police as they do wit the inconveniences and
hardships in living"; and perhaps the facility of the human mind in
adapting itself to its circumstances was never more remarkably
exemplified than it was at this time in America.

Trade had long been embarrassed throughout the colonies by the

restraints of Parliament and the rapacity of revenue officers; the
shutting up the port of Boston was felt in every villa of the New
England colonies; the bill for altering the constitution of
Massachusetts prevented all legislative proceedings; the executive
officers were rendered incapable of acting in their several
departments and the courts of justice shut up. it must be ascribed to
the virtue of the people, however reluctant some may be to
acknowledge this truth, that they did not feel the effects of anarchy in
the extreme.

But a general forbearance and complacency seemed for a time almost

to preclude the necessity of legal restraint; and except in a few
instances, when the indiscretion of individuals provoked abuse, there
was less violence and personal insult than perhaps ever was known
in the same period of time, when all political union was broken down,
and private affection weakened, by the virulence of party prejudice,
which generally cuts in sunder the bands of social and friendly
connection. The people irritated in the highest degree, the sword
seemed to be half drawn from the scabbard, while the trembling hand
appeared unwilling to display its whetted point; and all America, as
well as the Massachusetts, suspended all partial opposition, and
waited to anxious hope and expectation the decisions of a Continental
Congress.

This respected Assembly, the Amphyctions of the western world,

convened by the free suffrages of twelve colonies, met at the time
proposed, on the fourth of September, 1774. They entered on
business with hearts warmed with the love of their country, a sense of
the common and equal rights of man, and the dignity of human
nature. Peyton Randolph, Esq. a gentleman from Virginia, whose
sobriety, integrity, and political abilities, qualified him for the important
station, was unanimously chosen to preside in this grand council of
American peers.

Though this body was sensibly affected by the many injuries received
from the parent state, their first wish was a reconciliation on terms of
reciprocity, justice and honor. In consequence of these sentiments
with the duty due to their constituents, every thing that might tend to
widen the breach between Great Britain and the colonies. Yet they
were determined, if Parliament continued deaf to the calls of justice,
not to submit to the yoke of tyranny, but to take the preparatory steps
necessary for a vigorous resistance.

After a thorough discussion of the civil, political, and commercial

interests of both countries, the natural ties, and the mutual benefits
resulting from the strictest amity, and the unhappy consequences that
must ensue, if driven to the last appeal, they resolved on a dutiful and
loyal petition to the King, recapitulating their grievances, and
imploring redress: they modestly remonstrated, and obliquely
censured the authors of those mischiefs, which filled all America with
complaint.

They drew up an affectionate, but spirited memorial to the people of

England, reminding them that they held their own boasted liberties on
a precarious tenure, if government, under the sanction of
Parliamentary authority, might enforce by the terrors of the sword
their unconstitutional edicts. They informed them, that they
determined, from a sense of justice to posterity, and for the honor of
human nature, to resist all infringements on the natural rights of men;
that, if neither the dictates of equity, nor the suggestions of humanity,
were powerful enough to restrain a wanton administration from
shedding blood in a cause so derogatory to the principles of justice,
not all the exertions of superior strength should lead them to submit
servilely to the impositions of a foreign power. They forwarded a well-
adapted address to the French inhabitants of Canada, to which they
subjoined a detail of their rights, with observations on the alarming
aspect of the late Quebec bill, and invited them to join in the common
cause of America.

Energy and precision, political ability, and the genuine amor patriae
marked the measures of the short session of this Congress. They
concluded their proceedings with an address to the several American
colonies, exhorting them to union and perseverance in the modes of
opposition they had pointed out. Among the most important of these
was a strong recommendation to discontinue all commerce with Great
Britain, and encourage the improvement of arts and manufactures
among themselves. They exhorted all ranks and orders of men to a
strict adherence to industry, frugality, and sobriety of manners; and to
look primarily to the supreme ruler of the universe, who is able to
defeat the crafty designs of the most potent enemy. They agreed on a
declaration of rights, and entered into an association, to which the
signature of every member of Congress was affixed [see Note 10 at
the bottom of this page]; in which they bound themselves to suspend
all farther intercourse with Great Britain, to import no merchandise
from that hostile country, to abstain from the use of all India teas; and
that after a limited time, if a radical redress of grievances was not
obtained, no American produce should be exported either to England
or the West India islands under the jurisdiction of Britain.

To these recommendations were added several sumptuary resolves;

after which they advised their constituents to a new choice of
delegates to meet in congress on May 10, 1775: they judged it
probable that, by that time, they should hear the success of their
petitions to the throne. They then prudently dissolved themselves,
and returned to their private occupations in their several provinces,
there to wait the operation of their resolutions and addresses.

It is scarcely possible to describe the influence of the transactions and

resolves of Congress on the generality of the people throughout the
wide extended continent of America. History records no injunctions
of men, that were ever more religiously observed; or any human laws
more readily and universally obeyed, than were the recommendations
of this revered body. It is indeed a singular phenomenon in the story
of human conduct, that when all legal institutions were abolished, and
long established governments at once annihilated in so many distinct
states that the recommendations of committees and conventions, not
enforced by penal sanctions, should be equally influential and binding
with the severest code of law, backed by royal authority, and
strengthened by the murdering sword of despotism. Doubtless the
fear of popular resentment operated on some, with a force equal to
the rod of the magistrate: the singular punishments [Such as tarring
and feathering, etc.], inflicted in some instances by an inflamed
rabble, on a few who endeavored to counteract the public measures,
deterred others from opening violating the public resolves, and acting
against the general consent of the people.

Not the bitterest foe to American freedom, whatever might be his

wishes, presumed to counteract the general voice by an avowed
importation of a single article of British merchandise, after the first
day of February, 1775. The cargoes of all vessels that happened to
arrive after this limited period were punctually delivered to the
committees of correspondence, in the first port of their arrival, and
sold at public auction. The prime cost and charges and the half of
one per cent was paid to the owners, and the surplus of the profits
was appropriated to the relief of the distressed inhabitants of Boston,
agreeable to the seventh article in the association of the Continental
Congress.

The voice of the multitude is as the rushing down of a torrent, nor is it

strange that some outrages were committed against a few obstinate
and imprudent partisans of the court, by persons of as little
consideration as themselves. It is true that in the course of the
arduous struggle, there were many irregularities that could not be
justified and some violences in consequence of the general
discontent that will not stand the test, when examined at the bar of
equity; yet perhaps fewer than ever took place in any country under
similar circumstances. Witness the convulsions of Rome on the
demolition of her first race of kings; the insurrections and commotions
of her colonies before the downfall of the commonwealth; and to
come nearer home, the confusions, the mobs, the cruelties in Britain
in their civil convulsions, from William the Conqueror to the days of
the Stuarts, and from the arbitrary Stuarts to the riots of London and
Liverpool, even in the reign of George III.
Many other instances of the dread effects of popular commotion,
when wrought up to resistance by the oppressive hand of power,
might be adduced from the history of nations, [France might have
been mentioned as a remarkable instance of the truth of these
observations, had they not been written several years before the
extraordinary revolutions and cruel convulsions that have since
agitated that unhappy country. Every one will observe the astonishing
difference in the conduct of the people of America and of France, in
the two revolutions which took place within a few years of each other.
In the one, all was horror, robbery, assassination, murder, devastation
and massacre; in the other, a general sense of rectitude checked the
commission of those crimes, and the dread of spilling human blood
withheld for a time the hand of party, even when the passions were
irritated to the extreme. This must be attributed to the different
religion, government, laws, and manners of the two countries,
previous to these great events; not to any difference in the nature of
man; in similar circumstances, revenge, cruelty, confusion, and every
evil work, operate equally on the ungoverned passions of men in al
nations.] and the ferocity of human nature, when not governed by
interest or fear. Considering the right of personal liberty, which ever
one justly claims, the tenacious regard to property, and the pride of
opinion, which sometimes operates to the dissolution of the tenderest
ties of nature, it is wonderful, when the mind was elevated by these
powerful springs, and the passions whetted by opposition or insult,
that riot and confusion, desolation and bloodshed, was not the fatal
consequence of the long interregnum of law and government
throughout the colonies. Yet not a life was lost till the trump of war
summoned all parties to the field.

Valor is an instinct that appears even among savages, as a dictate of

nature planted for self-defense; but patriotism on the diffusive
principles of general benevolence, is the child of society. This virtue
with the fair accomplishments of science, gradually grows and
increases with civilization, until refinement is wrought to a height that
poisons and corrupts the mind. This appears when the accumulation
of wealth is rapid, and the gratifications of luxurious appetite become
easy; the seeds of benevolence are then often destroyed and the
man reverts back to selfish barbarism, and feels no check to his
rapacity and boundless ambition, though his passions may be
frequently veiled under various alluring and deceptive appearances.

America was now a fair field for a transcript of all the virtues and vices
that have illumined or darkened, disgraced and reigned triumphant in
their turn over all the other quarters of the habitable globe. The
progress of every thing had there been remarkably rapid, from the
first settlement of the country. Learning was cultivated, knowledge
disseminated, politeness and morals improved, and valor and
patriotism cherished, in proportion to the rapidity of her population.
This extraordinary cultivation of arts and manners may be accounted
for, from the stage of society and improvement in which the first
planters of America were educated before they left their native clime.
The first emigrations to North America were not composed of a
strolling banditti of rude nations, like the first people of most other
colonies in the history of the world. The early settlers in the newly
discovered continent were as far advanced in civilization, policy, and
manner; in their ideas of government, the nature of compacts, and
the bands of civil union, as any of their neighbors at that period
among the most polished nations of Europe. Thus they soon grew to
maturity and became able to vie with their European ancestors in
arts, in arms, in perspicuity in the cabinet, courage in the field, and
ability for foreign negotiations, and in the same space of time that
most other colonies have required to pare off the ruggedness of their
native ferocity, establish the rudiments of civil society, and begin the
fabric of government and jurisprudence. Yet as they were not fully
sensible of their own strength and abilities, they wished still to hang
upon the arm, and look up for protection to their original parent.

The united voice of millions still acknowledged the scepter of

Brunswick; firmly attached to the House of Hanover, educated in the
principles of monarchy, and fond of that mode of government under
certain limitations, they were still petitioning the King of England only
to be restored to the same footing of privilege claimed by his other
subjects, and wished ardently to keep the way open to a reunion,
consistent with their ideas of honor and freedom.

Thus the grand council of union were disposed to wait the operations
of time, without hurrying to momentous decisions that might in a
degree have sanctioned severities in the parent state that would have
shut up every avenue to reconciliation. While the representatives of
all the provinces had thus been deliberating, the individual colonies
were far from being idle. Provincial congresses and conventions had
in almost every province taken place of the old forms of legislation
and government, and they were all equally industrious and united in
the same modes to combat the intrigues of the governmental faction,
which equally forfeited the whole, though the eastern borders of the
continent more immediately suffered. But their institutions in infancy,
commerce suspended, and their property seized; threatened by the
national orators, by the proud chieftains of military departments, and
by the British fleet and army daily augmenting, hostilities of the most
serious nature lowered on all sides; the artillery of war and the fire of
rhetoric seemed to combine for the destruction of America.

The minds of the people at this period, though not dismayed, were
generally solemnized, in expectation of events, decisive both to
political and private happiness, and every brow appeared expressive
of sober anxiety. The people trembled for their liberties, the merchant
for his interest, the Tories for their places, the Whigs for their country,
and the virtuous ;for the manners of society.

It must be allowed that the genius of America was bold, resolute and
enterprising; tenacious of the rights their fathers had endured such
hardships to purchase, they determined to defend to the last breath
the invaluable possession. to check this ardent characteristic it had,
previous to the time we are upon, been considered, as if by common
consent among the plantation governors, a stroke of policy to depress
the militia of the country. All military discipline had for several years
been totally neglected; thus untrained to arms, whenever there had
been an occasional call in aid of British operations in America, the
militia were considered as a rustic set of auxiliaries, and employed
not only in the least honorable, but the most menial services. Though
this indignity was felt, it was never properly resented; they had borne
the burden of fatigue and subordination without much complaint: but
the martial spirit of the country now became conspicuous, and the
inclination of the youth of every class was universally cherished, and
military evolutions were the interludes that most delighted even
children in the intermission of their sedentary exercises at school.

Among the maneuvers of this period of expectation, a certain quota of

hardy youth were drawn from the train-bands in every town, who
were styled minute men. They voluntarily devoted a daily portion of
their time to improve themselves in the military art, under officers of
their own choice. Thus when hostilities commenced, every district
could furnish a number of soldiers who wanted nothing but experience
in the operations of war to make them a match for any troops the
Sovereign of Britain could boast.

This military ardor wore an unpleasant aspect in the eyes of

administration. By a letter from Lord Dartmouth to General Gage,
soon after he was appointed governor of the Massachusetts, it
appeared that a project for disarming certain provinces was seriously
contemplated in the cabinet. [General Gage in his reply to the minister
upon the above suggestion, observes, "Your lordship's idea of
disarming certain provinces would doubtless be consistent with
produce and safety; but it neither is nor has been practicable, without
having resources to force: we must first become masters of the
country."] The Parliament actually prohibited the exportation of arms,
ammunition, and military stores to any part of America, except for their
own fleets and armies employed in the colonies; and the king's troops
were frequently sent out in small parties to dismantle the forts, and
seize the powder magazines or other military stores wherever they
could be found. The people throughout the colonies with better
success took similar measures to secure to themselves whatever
warlike stores were already in the country. Thus a kind of predatory
struggle almost universally took place. Every appearance of hostilities
was discoverable in the occasional rencontres, except the drawing of
blood, which was for a time suspended; delayed on one side from an
apprehension that they were not quite ripe for the conflict; on the
other, from an expectation of reinforcements that might ensure victory
on the easiest terms; and perhaps by both, from the recollection of
their former connection and attachment.

A disunion of the colonies had long bee zealously wished for, and
vainly attempted by administration; as that could not be effected, it
was deemed a wise and politic

measure to make an example of one they judged the most refractory.

Thus resentment seemed particularly leveled at the Massachusetts;
consequently they obliged that colony first to measure the sword with
the hardy veterans of Britain.

The spirited proceedings of the County of Suffolk, soon after the

arrival of Gage, and his hasty dissolution of the General Assembly, in
some measure damped the expectation of the ministry, who had
flattered themselves that the depression and ruin of the
Massachusetts would strike terror through the other provinces, and
render the work of conquest more easy. But the decision and energy
of this Convention, composed of members from the principal towns in
the county, discovered that the spirit of Americans at that time was
not to be coerced by dragoons and that if one colony, under the
immediate frowns of government, with an army in their capital, were
thus bold and determined, new calculations must be made for the
subjugation of all.

The Convention met in Suffolk, at once unanimously renounced the

authority of the new legislature, and engaged to bear harmless all
officers who should refuse to act under it. They pronounced all those
who had accepted seats at the Board of Council by mandamus the
incorrigible enemies of their country. They recommended to the
people to perfect themselves in the art of war, and prepare to resist
by force of arms every hostile invasion. They resolved, that if any
person should be apprehended for his exertions in the public cause,
reprisals should be made, by seizing and holding in custody the
principal officers of the Crown, wherever they could be found, until
ample justice should be done. They advised the collectors and
receivers of all public moneys to hold it in their hands until
appropriations should be directed by authority of a provincial
congress. They earnestly urged an immediate choice of delegates
for that purpose and recommended their convening at Salem.

These and several other resolves in the same style and manner, were
considered by government as the most overt acts of treason that had
yet taken place; but their doings were but a specimen of the spirit
which actuated the whole province. Every town, with the utmost
alacrity, chose one or more of the most respectable gentlemen, to
meet in provincial congress, agreeable to the recommendation of
October 15, 1774. They were requested by their constituents to take
into consideration the distressed state of the country and to devise
the most practicable measures to extricate the people from their
present perplexed situation.

In the mean time, to preclude the appearance of necessity for such a

convention, Governor Gage issued precepts summoning a new
General Assembly to meet at Salem, the week preceding the time
appointed for the meeting of the Convention. The people obeyed the
order of the Governor, and every where chose their representatives;
but they all chose the same persons they had recently delegated to
meet in Convention. Whether the governor was apprehensive that it
would not be safe for his mandamus council to venture out of the
capital, or whether conscious that it would not be a constitutional
assembly or from the imbecility of his own mind, in a situation
altogether new to him, is uncertain; but from whatever cause it arose,
he discovered his embarrassment by a proclamation dated the day
before he was to meet them at Salem to dissolve the new House of
Representatives. This extraordinary dissolution only precipitated the
pre-determination of the delegates. They had taken their line of
conduct, and their determinations were not easily shaken.

The Council chosen by the House on the day of their last election had
also, as requested, repaired to Salem. The design was to proceed to
business a usual, without any notice of the annihilation of their
charter. Their determination was, if the Governor refused to met with
or countenance them, to consider him as absent from the province. It
had been usual under the old charter, when the Governor's signature
could not be obtained by reason of death or absence, that by the
names of 15 counselors affixed thereto, all the acts of assembly were
equally valid, as when signed by the Governor. But by the
extraordinary conduct of the chief magistrate, the General Assembly
was left at liberty to complete measures in any mode or form that
appeared most expedient. Accordingly, they adjourned to Concord, a
town situated about 30 miles from Salem, and there prosecuted the
business of their constituents.

As it was not yet thought prudent to assume all the powers of an

organized government, they chose a president, and acted as a
provincial congress, as previously proposed. They recommended to
the militia to choose their own officers and submit to regular discipline
at least thrice a week, and that a fourth part of them should be drafted
and hold themselves in readiness to march at a moment's warning to
any part of the province. They recommended to the several counties
to adhere to their own resolves, and to keep the courts of common
law shut until some future period, when justice could be legally
administered. They appointed a committee of supplies to provide
ammunition, provisions, and warlike stores, and to deposit them in
some place of safety, ready for use, if they should be obliged to take
up arms in defense of their rights.

This business required talents and energy to make arrangements for

exigencies, new and untried. Fortunately, "Elbridge Gerry, Esq. was
placed at the head of this commissions, who executed it with his
usual punctuality and indefatigable industry. This gentleman entered
from principle, early in the opposition to British encroachments, and
continued one of the most uniform republicans to the end of the
contest. He was the next year chosen a delegate to the Continental
Congress. Firm, exact, perspicuous, and tenacious of public and
private honor, he rendered essential service to the union for many
years that he continued a member of that honorable body. [Mr.
Gerry's services and exertions to promote the public interest through
every important station which he filled from this period until he was
appointed to negotiate with the Republic of France in the year 1798
were uniform. There his indefatigable zeal, his penetration, and cool
perseverance when everything appeared on the eve of rupture
between the two republics, laid the foundation and formed the
outlines of an accommodation which soon after terminated in an
amicable treaty between France and the United States of America.]

The Provincial Congress appointed a Committee of Safety, consisting

of nine members, and vested them with powers to act as they should
see fit for the public service, in the recess, and to call them together
again, on any extraordinary emergency; and before they separated,
they chose a new set of delegates to meet in General Congress the
ensuing spring. After this they held a conference with the committees
of donation and correspondence and the selectmen of the town of
Boston on the expediency of an effort to remove the inhabitants from
a town blockaded on all sides. They then separated for a few weeks
to exert their influence in aid to

the resolutions of the people; to strengthen their fortitude, and prepare

them for the approaching storm, which they were sensible could be at
no great distance.

Though the inhabitants of Boston were shut up in garrison, insulted by

the troops, and in many respects felt the evils of a severe military
government; yet the difficulty of removing thousands from their
residence in the capital, to seek an asylum in the country on the eve
of winter, appeared fraught with inconveniences too great to be
attempted. They were, of consequence, the most of them obliged to
continue amid the outrages of a licentious army, and wait patiently
the events of the ensuing spring.

The principal inhabitants of the town, though more immediately under

the eye of their oppressors, lost no part of their determined spirit, but
still acted in unison with their friends more at liberty without the city. A
bold instance of this appeared when Mr. Oliver, the chief justice,
regardless of the impeachment that lay against him, attempted with
his associates to open the Superior Court and transact business
according to the new regulations. Advertisements were posted in
several public places, forbidding on their peril the attorneys and
barristers at law to carry any cause up to the bar. Both the grand and
petit-jurors refused attendance, and finally the court was obliged to
adjourn without delay.

These circumstances greatly alarmed the party, more especially those

natives of the country who had taken sanctuary under the banners of
an officer who had orders to enforce the acts of administration, even
at the point of the bayonet. Apprehensive they might be dragged
from their asylum within the gates, they were continually urging
General Gage to more vigorous measures without. They assured him
that it would be easy for him to execute the designs of government
provided he would by law marital seize, try, or transport to England
such persons as were most particularly obnoxious; and that if the
people once saw him thus determined, they would sacrifice their
leaders and submit quietly.

They associated and bound themselves by covenant to go all lengths

in support of the projects of administration against their country; but
the General, assured of reinforcements in the spring, sufficient to
enable him to open a bloody campaign, and not remarkable for
resolution or activity, had not the courage, and perhaps not the
inclination, to try the dangerous experiment, until he felt himself
stronger. He was also sensible of the striking similarity of genius,
manners, and conduct of the colonies in union. It was observable to
everyone that local prejudices, either in religion or government, taste
or politics, were suspended, and that every distinction was sunk, in
the consideration of the necessity of connection and vigor in one
general system of defense. He therefore proceeded no farther, during
the winter, than publishing proclamations against congresses,
committees, and conventions, styling all associations of the kind
unlawful and treasonable combinations, and forbidding all persons to
pay the smallest regard to their recommendations, on penalty of his
Majesty's severest displeasure.

These feeble exertions only confirmed the people in their adherence

to the modes pointed out by those to whom they had entrusted the
safety of the Commonwealth. The only active movement of the
season was that of a party commanded by Colon Leslie, who
departed from Castle William on the evening of Saturday, February
27, 1775, on a secret expedition to Salem. The design was principally
to seize a few cannon on the ensuing morning. The people apprised
of his approach, drew up a bridge over which his troops were to
pass. Leslie, finding his passage would be disputed and having no
orders to proceed to blows, after much expostulation engaged that if
he might be permitted to go on the ground, he would molest neither
public nor private property. The bridge was immediately let down,
and through a line of armed inhabitants, ready to take vengeance on
a forfeiture of his word, he only marched to the extreme part of the
town and then returned to Boston, to the mortification of himself and
his friends, that an officer of Colonel Leslie's acknowledged bravery
should be sent out on so frivolous an errand.

This incident discovered the determination of the Americans, carefully

to avoid everything that had the appearance of beginning hostilities
on their part; an imputation that might have been attended with great
inconvenience; nor indeed were they prepared to precipitate a
conflict, the consequences and the termination of which no human
calculation could reach. This maneuver also discovered that the
people of the country were not deficient in point of courage, but that
they stood charged for a resistance that might smite the sceptered
hand, whenever it should be stretched forth to arrest by force the
inheritance purchased by the blood of ancestors, whose self-denying
virtues had rivaled the admired heroes of antiquity.

**********************

Note 10

Names of the members of the American Congress, in 1774.

Peyton Randolph, President

New Hampshire: John Sullivan, Nathaniel Folsom Massachusetts

Bay: Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat
Paine Rhode Island: Stephen Hopkins, Samuel Ward Connecticut:
Eliphalet Dyer, Roger Sherman, Silas Deane New York: Isaac Low,
John Alsop, John Jay, James Duane, William Floyd, Henry Wisner,
Samuel Bocrum New Jersey: James Kinsey, William Livingston,
Stephen Crane, Richard Smith Pennsylvania: Joseph Galloway,
Charles Humphreys, John Dickenson, Thomas Mifflin, Edward Biddle,
John Morton, George Ross Newcastle, etc.: Caesar Rodney, Thomas
McKean, George Read Maryland: Matthew Tilghman, Thomas
Johnson, William Paca, Samuel Chase Virginia: Richard Henry Lee,
George Washington, Patrick Henry, Junior, Richard Bland, Benjamin
Harrison, Edmund Pendleton North Carolina: William Hooper, Joseph
Hewes, R. Caswell South Carolina: Henry Middleton, Thomas Lynch,
Christopher Gadsden, John Rutledge, Edward Rutledge

___________________

Chapter Six: Parliamentary divisions on American affairs. Cursory

observations and events. Measures for raising an army of
 observation by the four New England governments of New
Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut. Battle of
Lexington. Sketches of the conduct and characters of the governors of
the southern provinces. Ticonderoga taken. Arrival of reinforcements
from England. Proscription and characters of Samuel Adams and
John Hancock. Battle of Bunker Hill. Death and character of General
Joseph Warren. Massachusetts adopts a stable form of government.

We have seen several years pass off in doubtful anxiety, in repression

and repulsion, while many yet indulged the pleasing hope that some
able genius might arise that would devise measures to heal the
breach, to revive the languishing commerce of both countries, and
restore the blessings of peace, by removing the causes of complaint.
But these hopes vanished, and all expectation of that kind were soon
cut off by the determined system of coercion in Britain, and the actual
commencement of war in America.

The earliest accounts from England, after the beginning of the year
1775, announced the ferments of the British nation, principally on
account of American measures, the perseverance of the ministry, and
the obstinacy of the King, in support of the system; the sudden
dissolution of one Parliament, and the immediate election of another,
composed of the same members, or men of the same principles as
the former.

Administration had triumphed through the late Parliament over reason,

justice, and the humanity of individuals, and the interest of the nation.
Notwithstanding the noble and spirited opposition of several
distinguished characters in both Houses, it soon appeared that the
influence of the ministry over the old Parliament was not depreciated,
or that more lenient principles pervaded the councils of the new one.
Nor did more judicious and favorable decisions lead to the prospect
of an equitable adjustment of a dispute that had interested the
feelings of the whole empire, and excited the attention of neighboring
nations, not as an object of curiosity, but whit views and expectations
that might give a new face to the political and commercial systems of
a considerable part of the European world.

The petition of the Continental Congress to the King, their address to

the people of England, with General Gage's letters, and all papers
relative to America, were introduced early in the session of the new
Parliament. Warm debates ensured, and the cause of the colonies
was advocated with ability and energy by the most admired orators
among the Commons, and by several very illustrious names in the
House of Lords. They descanted largely on the injustice and impolicy
of the present system, and the impracticability of its execution. They
urged that the immediate repeal of the revenue acts, the recall of the
troops, and the opening the port of Boston were necessary,
preliminary steps to any hope of reconciliation; and that these
measures only would preserve the empire from consequences that
would be fatal to her interests, as well as disgraceful to her councils.
But, predetermined in the Cabinet, a large majority in Parliament
appeared in favor of strong measures. The ministerial party insisted
that coercion only could ensure obedience, restore tranquility to the
colonies, repair the insulted dignity, and reestablish the supremacy of
Parliament.

An act was immediately passed, prohibiting New Hampshire,

Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut from carrying on the
fishing business on the banks of Newfoundland. By this arbitrary step,
thousands of miserable families were suddenly cut off from all means
of subsistence. But, as if determined the rigors of power should know
no bounds, before Parliament had time to cool, after the animosities
occasioned by the bill just mentioned, another [Parliamentary
proceedings in 1775] was introduced by the minister, whereby the
trade of the southern colonies was restrained, and in future confined
entirely to Great Britain. The minority still persevered in the most
decided opposition both against the former and the present modes of
severity towards the colonies. Very sensible and spirited protests
were entered against the new bills, signed by some of the first
nobility. A young nobleman of high rank and reputation predicted that
"measures commenced in iniquity, and pursued in resentment, must
end in blood, and involve the nation in immediate civil war." [Debates
in Parliament, 1775]. It was replied that the colonies were already in
a state of rebellion, that the supremacy of Parliament must not even
be questioned, and that compulsory measures must be pursued from
absolute necessity. Neither reason nor argument, humanity nor policy,
made the smallest impression on those determined to support all
despotic proceedings. Thus after much altercation, a majority of 282
appeared in favor of augmenting the forces in America, both by sea
and land, against only 70 in the House of Commons, who opposed
the measure.

All ideas of courage or ability in the colonists to face the dragoons and
resist the power of Britain were treaded with the greatest derision,
and particularly ridiculed by a general officer [General Burgoyne,
afterwards captured at Saratoga], then in the House, who soon after
delivered his standards and saw the surrender of a capital army
under his command to those undisciplined Americans he had affected
to hold in so much contempt. The First Lord of the Admiralty also
declared, "the Americans were neither disciplined nor capable of
discipline."

Several ships of the line and a number of frigates were immediately

ordered to join the squadron at Boston. 10,000 men were ordered for
the land service, in addition to those already there. A regiment of light
horse and a body of troops from Ireland, to complete the number,
were directed to embark with all possible dispatch to reinforce
General Gage.

The speech from the throne, approving the sanguinary conduct of the
minister and the Parliament, blasted all the hopes of the more
moderate and humane part of the nation. Several gallant officers of
the first rank, disgusted with the policy, and revolting at the idea of
butchering their American brethren, resigned their commissions. The
Earl of Effingham was among the first who, with a frankness that his
enemies styled a degree of insanity, assured his Majesty "that though
he loved the profession of a solider and would with the utmost
cheerfulness sacrifice his fortune and his life for the safety of his
majesty's person, and the dignity of his crown, yet the same
principles which inspired him with those unalterable sentiments of
duty and affection would not suffer him to be instrumental in depriving
any part of the people of their liberties, which to him appeared the
best security of their fidelity and obedience; therefore without the
severest reproaches of conscience he could not consent to bear arms
against the Americans."

But there is no age which bears a testimony so honorable to human

nature; as shows mankind at so sublime a pitch of virtue that there
are not always enough to be found ready to aid the arm of the
oppressor, provided they may share in the spoils of the oppressed.
Thus, many officers of ability and experience courted the American
service as the readiest road to preferment.

Administration not satisfied with their own severe restrictions, set on

foot a treaty with the Dutch and several other nations to prevent their
aiding the colonies by supplying them with any kind of warlike stores.
Every thing within ad without wore the most hostile appearance, even
while the commercial interest of Great Britain was closely interwoven
with that of America; and the treasures of the colonies, which had
been continually pouring into the lap of the mother country in
exchange for her manufactures, were still held ready for her use in
any advance to harmony.

The boundaries of the King of England's continental domains were

almost immeasurable, and the inhabitants were governed by a strong
predilection in favor of the nation from whom they derived their origin:
hence it is difficult to account on any principles of human policy for
the infatuation that instigated tot he absurd project of conquering a
country already theirs on the most advantageous terms. But the
seeds of separation were sown, and the ball of empire rolled
westward with such astonishing rapidity that the pious mind is
naturally excited to acknowledge a superintending Providence, that
led to the period of independence, even before America was
conscious of her maturity. Precipitated into a war dreadful even in
contemplation, humanity recoiled at the idea of civil feuds and their
concomitant evils.

When the news arrived in the colonies that the British army in Boston
was to be reinforced, that the coercive system was at all hazards to
be prosecuted, though astonished at the persevering severity of a
nation still beloved and revered by Americans, deeply affected with
the calamities that threatened the whole empire, and shocked at the
prospect of the convulsion and cruelties even attendant on civil war,
yet few balanced on the part they were to act. The alternative held
up was a bold and vigorous resistance, or an abject submission to the
ignoble terms demanded by administration Armed with resolution and
magnanimity, united by affection, and a remarkable conformity to
opinion, the whole people through the wide extended continent
seemed determined to resist in blood, rather than become the slaves
of arbitrary power.

Happily for America, the inhabitants, in general, possessed not only

the virtues of native courage and a spirit of enterprise, but minds
generally devoted to the best affections. Many of them retained this
character to the end of the conflict by the dereliction of interest and
the costly sacrifices of health, fortune, and life. Perhaps the truth of
the observation that "a national force is best formed where numbers of
men are used to equality, and where the meanest citizen may
consider himself destined to command as well as to obey," was never
more conspicuous than in the brave resistance of Americans to the
potent and conquering arm of Great Britain, who, in conjunction with
her colonies had long taught the nations to tremble at her strength.

But the painful period hastened on when the connection which nature
and interest had long maintained between Great Britain and the
colonies, must be broken off, the sword draw, and the scabbard
thrown down the gulf of time. We must now pursue the progress of a
war enkindled by avarice, whetted by ambition, and blown up into a
thirst for revenge by repeated disappointment. Not the splendor of a
diadem, the purple of princes, or the pride of power can ever sanction
the deeds of cruelty perpetrated on the western side of the Atlantic,
and not infrequently by men, whose crimes emblazoned by title will
enhance the infamy of their injustice and barbarism when the tragic
tale is faithfully related.

We have already observed on the supplicatory address every where

offered to the old government, the rebuffs attending them, the
obstruction to legal debate, and the best possible regulations made
by the colonies in their circumstance, under the new modes
established by themselves.

The authority of congresses and committees of correspondence, and

the spirit which pervaded the united colonies in their preparations for
war, during the last six months previous to the commencement of
hostilities, bore such a resemblance that the detail of the transactions
of one province is an epitome of the story of all.

The particular resentment of Great Britain leveled at the

Massachusetts made it necessary for that province to act a more
decided part, that they might be in some readiness to repel the storm
which it appeared probable would first burst upon them. Their
Provincial Congress was sitting when the news first arrived that all
hope of reconciliation was precluded by the hostile resolutions of
Parliament. This rather quickened than retarded the important step
which was then the subject of their deliberations. Persuaded that the
unhappy contest could not terminate without bloodshed, they were
consulting on the expediency of raising an army of observation from
the four New England governments, that they might be prepared for
defense in case of an attack before the Continental Congress could
again meet and make proper arrangements for farther operations.
They proceeded to name their own commanding officers, and
appointed delegates to confer with New Hampshire, Connecticut, and
Rhode Island, on the proportion of men they would furnish and their
quota of expense for the equipment of such an armament.

Connecticut and New Hampshire readily acceded to the proposal, but

in Rhode Island several embarrassments were thrown in the way,
though the people in that colony were in general as ready to enter
warmly into measure for the common safety as any of the others; nor
had they less reason. They had long been exasperated by the
insolence and rapacity of the officers of a part of the navy stationed
there to watch their trade. These had, without color of right, frequently
robbed Newport and plundered the adjacent islands. They had seized
the little skiffs in which a number of poor people had gained a scanty
subsistence; and insulted, embarrassed, and abused the inhabitants
in various ways through the preceding year.

It is the nature of man, when he despairs of legal reparation for

injuries received, to seek satisfaction by avenging his own wrongs.
Thus, some time before this period [see Note 11 at the end of this
chapter, Governor Hutchinson's representation of this affair.] a
number of men in disguise had riotously assembled, and set fire to a
sloop of war in the harbor. When they had thus discovered their
resentment by this illegal proceeding, they this illegal proceeding,
they dispersed without farther violence. For this imputed crime, the
whole colony had been deemed guilty, and interdicted as accessory.
A court of inquiry was appointment by his Majesty, vested with the
power of seizing any person on suspicion, confining him on board a
King's ship, and sending him to England for trial. But some of the
gentlemen named for this inquisitorial business had not the temerity
to execute it in the latitude designed; and after sitting a few days,
examining a few persons, and threatening many, they adjourned to a
distant day.

The extraordinary precedent of erecting such a court [The gentlemen

who composed this court, were Wanton, governor of Rhode Island,
Horsemanden, chief justice of New York, Smith, chief justice of New
Jersey, Oliver, chief justice of Massachusetts, and Auchmuty, judge of
admiralty.] among them was not forgotten; but there was a
considerable party in Newport strongly attached to the royal cause.
These, headed by their governor, Mr. Wanton, a man of weak
capacity and little political knowledge, endeavored to impede all
measures of opposition and to prevent even a discussion on the
propriety of raising a defensive army.

The news of an action at Lexington on April 19, between a party of the

King's troops and some Americans hastily collected, reached
Providence on the same evening, a few hours after the gentlemen
entrusted with the mission for conference with the colony had arrived
there; they had not entered on business, having been in town but an
hour or two before this intelligence was received by a special
messenger.

On this important information, James Warren, Esq. the head of the

delegation, was of opinion that this event not only opened new
prospects and expectations, but that it entirely changed the object of
negotiation, and that new ground must be taken. Their mission was
by the Massachusetts designed merely as a defensive movement,
but he observed to the principal inhabitants collected to consult on the
alarming aspect of present affairs, that there now appeared a
necessity not only for defensive, but for offensive operations; he
urged his reasons with such ability and address that an immediate
convention of the Assembly was obtained. They met at Providence
the ensuring day, where by the trifling of the Governor and the
indiscretion of his partisans, the business labored in the upper house
for several days. But the representative branch, impatient of delay,
determined to act without any consideration of their Governor, if he
continued thus to impede their designs, and to unite, by authority of
their own body, in vigorous measures with their sister colonies. A
majority of the council, however, at last impelled the Governor to
agree to the determinations of the lower house, who had voted a
number of men to be raised wit the utmost dispatch; accordingly, a
large detachment was sent forward to the Massachusetts within three
days.

When the gentlemen left congress for the purpose of combining and
organizing an army in the eastern states, a short adjournment was
made. before they separated, they selected a standing committee to
reside at Concord, where a provincial magazine was kept, and vested
them with power to summon congress to meet again at a moment's
warning, if any extraordinary emergency should arise.

In the course of the preceding winter, a single regiment at a time had

frequently made excursions from the army at Boston, and
reconnoitered the environs of the town without committing any
hostilities in the country, except picking up cannon, powder, and
warlike stores, wherever they could find and seize them with impunity.
In the spring, as they daily expected fresh auxiliaries, they grew more
insolent; from their deportment there was the highest reason to
expect they would extend their researches and endeavor to seize and
secure, as they termed them, the factious leaders of rebellion. Yet
this was attempted rather sooner than was generally expected.

On the evening of April 18, the grenadiers and light infantry of the
army stationed at Boston embarked under the command of
Lieutenant Colonel Smith and were ordered to land at Cambridge
before the dawn of the ensuing day. This order was executed with
such secrecy and dispatch that the troops reached Lexington, a small
village nine miles beyond Cambridge, and began the tragedy of the
day just as the sun rose.

An advanced guard of officers had been sent out by land to seize and
secure all travelers who might be suspected as going forward with
intelligence of the hostile aspect of the King's troops. But
notwithstanding this vigilance to prevent notice, a report reached the
neighboring towns very early that a large body of troops,
 accompanied by some of the most virulent individuals among the
Tories, who had taken refuge in Boston, were moving with design to
destroy the provincial magazine at Concord, and take into custody
the principal persons belonging to the committee of safety. Few
suspected there was a real intention to attack the defenseless
peasants of Lexington, or to try the bravery of the surrounding
villages. But it being reduced to a certainty that a number of persons
had the evening before in the environs of Cambridge been insulted,
abused, and stripped by officers in British uniform, and that a
considerable armament might be immediately expected in the vicinity,
Captain Parker, who commanded a company of militia, ordered them
to appear at beat of drum on the parade at Lexington on the 19th.
They accordingly obeyed and were embodied before sunrise.

Colonel Smith, who commanded about 800 men, came suddenly upon
them within a few minutes after and, accosting them in language very
unbecoming an officer of his rank, he ordered them to lay down their
arms and disperse immediately. He illiberally branded them with the
epithets of rebel and traitor; and before the little party had time either
to resist or to obey, he, with wanton precipitation, ordered his troops
to fire. Eight men were killed on the spot; and, without any concern
for his rashness, or little molestation from the inhabitants, Smith
proceeded on his rout.

By the time he reached Concord, and had destroyed a part of the

stores deposited there, the country contiguous appeared in arms, as
if determined not to be the tame spectators of the outrages committed
against the persons, property, and lives of their fellow citizens. Two
or three hundred men assembled under the command of Colonel
Barrett. He ordered them to begin no onset against the troops of their
sovereign, until farther provocation; this order was punctually obeyed.
Colonel Smith had ordered a bridge beyond the town to be taken up,
to prevent the people on the other side from coming to their
assistance. Barrett advanced to take possession before the party
reached it, and a smart skirmish ensued; several were killed and a
number wounded on both sides. Not dismayed or daunted this small
body of yeomanry, armed in the cause of justice, and struggling for
everything they held dear, maintained their stand until the British
troops, though far superior in numbers and in all the advantages of
military skill, discipline, and equipment, gave ground and retreated,
without half executing the purpose designed by this forced march to
Concord.

The adjacent villagers collected and prepared to cut off their retreat;
but a dispatch had been sent by Colonel Smith to inform General
Gage that the country was arming and his troops in danger. A
battalion under the command of Lord Percy was sent to succor him,
and arrived in time to save Smith's corps. A son of the Duke of
Northumberland, [The Duke of Northumberland, father of Earl Percy,
had been uniformly opposed to the late measures of administration in
their American system.] previous to this day's work, was viewed by
Americans with a favorable eye; though more from a partiality to the
father, than from any remarkable personal qualities discoverable in
the son. Lord Percy came up with the routed corps near the fields of
Menotomy, where barbarities were committed by the King's army,
which might have been expected only from a tribe of savages. They
entered, rifled, plundered, and burnt several houses; and in some
instances the aged and infirm fell under the sword of the ruffian;
women, with their new-born infants, were obliged to fly naked, to
escape the fury of the flames in which their houses were enwrapped.

The footsteps of the most remorseless nations have seldom been

marked with more rancorous and ferocious rage than may be traced
in the transactions of this day, a day never to be forgotten by
Americans. A scene like this had never before been exhibited on her
peaceful plains and the manner in which it was executed will leave an
indelible stain on a nation long famed for their courage, humanity and
honor. But they appeared at this period so lost to a sense of dignity
as to be engaged in a cause that required perfidy and meanness to
support it. Yet the impression of justice is so strongly stamped on the
bosom of man that when conscious the sword is lifted against the
rights of equity it often disarms the firmest heart, and unnerve the
most valiant arm, when impelled to little subterfuges and private
cruelties to execute their guilty designs.

The affair of Lexington and the precipitant retreat after the ravages at
Menotomy are testimonies of the truth of this observation. For,
notwithstanding their superiority in every respect, several regiments
of the best troops in the royal army were seen to the surprise and joy
of every lover of his country, flying before raw inexperienced
peasantry, who had run hastily together in defense of their lives and
liberties. Had the militia of Salem and Marblehead have come on, as
it was thought they might have done, they would undoubtedly have
prevented this routed, disappointed army, from reaching the
advantageous post of Charlestown. But the tardiness of Colonel
Pickering, who commanded the Salem regiment, gave them an
opportunity to make good their retreat. Whether Mr. Pickering's
[Timothy Pickering, afterwards Secretary of State under the
presidency of Mr. Adams, by whom he was dismissed from public
business.] delay was owing to timidity or to a predilection in favor of
Britain remains uncertain; however it was, censure at the time fell
very heavily on his character.

Other parts of the country were in motion; but the retreat of the British
army was so rapid that they got under cover of their own ships, and
many of them made their escape into Boston. Others, too much
exhausted by a quick march and unremitting exercise, without time
for refreshment from sunrise to sunset, were unable, both from
wounds and fatigue to cross the river. These were obliged to rest the
night, nor were they mistaken in the confidence they placed in the
hospitality of the inhabitants of Charlestown; this they reasonably
enough expected, both from motives of compassion and fear.

Intimidated by the appearance of such a formidable body of troops

within their town and touched with humanity on seeing the famished
condition of the King's officers and soldiers, several of whom, from
their wounds and their sufferings, expired before the next morning.
The people everywhere opened their doors, received the distressed
Britons, dressed their wounds, and contributed every relief: nothing
was neglected that could assist, refresh, or comfort the defeated.

The victorious party, sensible they could gain little advantage by a

farther pursuit, as the British were within reach of their own ships and
at the same time under the protection of the town of Charlestown;
they therefore retreated a few miles to take care of their own
wounded men, and to refresh themselves.

The action at Lexington, detached from its consequences, was but a

trivial maneuver when compared with the records of war and
slaughter, that have disgraced the pages of history through all
generation of men. But a circumstantial detail of lesser events, when
antecedent to the convulsions of empire, and national revolution, are
not only excusable, but necessary. The provincials lost in this
memorable action, including those who fell, who were not in arms,
upwards of fourscore persons. It was not easy to ascertain how
many of their opponents were lost, as they endeavored by all
possible means to conceal the number, and the disgrace of the day.
By the best information, it was judged, including those who died soon
after of wounds and fatigue, that their loss was very much greater
than that of the Americans. Thus resentment stimulated by recent
provocation, the colonies, under all the disadvantages of an infant
country, without discipline, without allies, and without resources,
except what they derived from their own valor and virtue, were
compelled to resort to the last appeal, the precarious decision of the
sword, against the mighty power of Britain.

The four New England governments now thought proper to make this
last appeal, and resolved to stand or fall together. It was a bold and
adventurous enterprise; but conscious of the equal privileges
bestowed by Heaven, on all its intelligent creatures on this habitable
ball, they did not hesitate on the part they had to act to retain them.
They cheerfully engaged, sure of the support of the other colonies, as
soon as Congress should have time to meet, deliberate, and resolve.
They were very sensible the middle and southern colonies were
generally preparing themselves,

with equal industry and ability, for a decision by arms, whenever

hostilities should seriously commence in any part of the continent.

As soon as intelligence was spread that the first blow was struck, and
that the shrill clarion of war actually resounded in the capital of the
eastern states, the whole country rose in arms. Thousands collected
within 24 hours in the vicinity of Boston; and the colonies of
Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire seemed all to be in
motion. Such was the resentment of the people and the ardor of
enterprise that it was with difficulty they were restrained from rushing
into Boston, and rashly involving their friends in common with their
enemies, in all the calamities of a town taken by storm.

The day after the Battle of Lexington, the Congress of Massachusetts

met at Watertown. They immediately determined on the number of
men necessary to be kept on the ground, appointed and made
establishments for the officers of each regiment, agreed on
regulations for all military movements, and struck off a currency of
paper for the payment of the soldiers, making the bills a tender for the
payment of debts, to prevent depreciation. They drew up a set of
judicious rules and orders for the army to be observed by both
officers and soldiers, until they should be embodied on a larger scale,
under the general direction of the Continental Congress.

In the mean time, the consternation of General Gage was equaled by

nothing but the rage of his troops and the dismay of the refugees
under his protection. He had known little of the country, and less of
the disposition and bravery of its inhabitants. He had formed his
opinions entirely on the misrepresentations of men who judging from
their own feelings more than from the general conduct of mankind had
themselves no idea that the valor of their countrymen could be
roused to hazard life and property for the sake of the common weal.
Struck with astonishment at the intrepidity of a people he had been
led to despise, and stung with vexation at the defeat of some of his
best troops, he ordered the gates of the town to be shut and every
avenue guarded, to prevent the inhabitants, whom he now
considered his best security, from making their escape into the
country. He had before caused entrenchments to be thrown up
across a narrow isthmus, then the only entrance by land: still
apprehensive of an attempt to storm the town, he now ordered the
environs fortified; and soon made a entrance impracticable, but at too
great an expense of blood.

The Bostonians thus unexpectedly made prisoners, and all

intercourse with the country, from whence they usually received their
daily supplies, cut off, famine stared them in the face on one side,
and on the other they beheld the lawless rapine of an enraged
enemy, with the sword of vengeance stretched over their heads. Yet,
with a firmness worthy of more generous treatment, the principal
citizens assembled, and after consultation, determined on a bold and
free remonstrance to their military governor. They reminded him of his
repeated assurances of personal liberty, safety, and protection, if they
would not evacuate the town, as they had long been solicited to do by
their friends in the country. Had this been seasonably done, the
Americans would have reduced the garrison by Withholding
provisions. The inhabitants of the town now earnestly requested that
the gates might be opened that none who chose to retired with their
wives, families, and property might be impeded.

Whether moved by feelings of compassion, of which he did not seem

to be wholly destitute, or whether it was a premeditated deception,
yet remains uncertain; however, General Gage plighted his faith in
the strongest terms, that if the inhabitants would deliver up their arms
and suffer them to be deposited in the City Hall, they should depart at
pleasure, and be assisted by the King's troops in removing their
property. His shameful violation of faith in this instance will leave a
stain on the memory of the Governor, so long as the obligations of
truth are held sacred among mankind.

The insulted people of Boston, after performing the hard conditions of

the contract, were not permitted to depart until after several months of
anxiety had elapsed, when the scarcity and badness of provisions
had brought on a pestilential disorder, both among the inhabitants
and the soldiers. Thus, from a reluctance to dip their hands in human
blood and from the dread of insult to which their feebler connections
were exposed, this unfortunate town, which contained nearly 20,000
inhabitants, was betrayed into a disgraceful resignation of their arms,
which the natural love of liberty should have inspired them to have
held for their own defense, while subjected to the caprice of an
arbitrary master. After their arms were delivered up and secured,
General Gage denied the contract and forbade their retreat; though
afterwards obliged to a partial compliance by the difficulty of obtaining
food for the subsistence of his own army. On certain stipulated
gratuities to some of his officers, a permit was granted them to leave
their elegant houses, their furniture and goods, and to depart naked
from the capital, to seek an asylum and support from the hospitality of
their friends in the country.

The islands within the harbor of Boston were so plentifully stocked

with sheep, cattle, and poultry that they would have afforded an
ample supply to the British army for a long time had they been
suffered quietly to possess them. General Putnam, an officer of
courage and experience, defeated this expectation by taking off
everything from one of the principal islands, under the fire of the
British ships. At the same time, he was so fortunate as to burn
several of their tenders, without losing a man. [General Putnam was
an old American officer of distinguished bravery, plain manners, and
sober habits; nourished in agricultural life, and those simple principles
that excite the virtuous to duty in every department.] His example was
followed; and from Chelsea to Point Alderton, the island were stripped
of wheat and other grain, of cattle and forage; and whatever they
could not carry off, the Americans destroyed by fire. They burnt the
lighthouse at the entrance of the harbor and the buildings on all the
islands, to prevent the British availing themselves of such convenient
appendages for encampments so near the town.

While these transactions were passing in the eastern provinces, the

other colonies were equally animated by the spirit of resistance and
equally busy in preparation. Their public bodies were undismayed;
their temper, their conduct, and their operations, both in the civil and
military line, were a fair uniform transcript of the conduct of the
Massachusetts; and some of them equally experienced thus early the
rigorous proceedings of their unrelenting governors.

New York was alarmed soon after the commencement of hostilities

near Boston by a rumor that a part of the armament expected from
Great Britain was to be stationed there to awe the country and for the
protection of numerous loyalists in the city. In some instances, the
province of New York had not yet fully acceded to the doings of the
General Congress; but they now applied to them for advice and
showed themselves equally ready to renounce their allegiance to the
King of Great Britain, and to unite in the common cause in all
respects, as any of the other colonies. Agreeable to the
recommendation of Congress, they sent off their women, children,
and effects, and ordered a number of men to be embodied and hold
themselves in readiness for immediate service.

Tryon was the last governor who presided at New York under the
Crown of England. This gentleman had formerly been governor of
North Carolina, where his severities had rendered him very
obnoxious. It is true, this disposition was principally exercised toward
a set of disorderly, ignorant people, who had felt themselves
oppressed, had embodied, and styling themselves regulators,
opposed the authority of the laws. After they had been subdued and
several of the ringleaders executed, Governor Tryon returned to
England, but was again sent out as Governor of the province of New
York. He was received wit cordiality, treated with respect, and was for
a time much esteemed by many of the inhabitants of the city and the
 neighboring country. Very soon after the contest became warm
between Great Britain and the inhabitants of America, he, like all the
other governors in the American colonies, tenacious of supporting the
prerogatives of the crown, laid aside the spirit of enmity he had
previously affected to feel.

Governor Tryon entered with great zeal into all the measures of
administration; and endeavored with art, influence, and intrigue, of
which he was perfectly master, to induce the city of New York and the
inhabitants under his government to submit quietly and to decline a
union of opinion and action wits the other colonies, in their opposition
to the new regulations of the British Parliament. But he soon found he
could not avail himself sufficiently of the interest he possessed
among some of the first characters in the city, to carry the point, and
subdue the spirit of liberty, which was every day appreciating in that
colony.

On the determination of the Provincial Congress to arrest the crown

officers, and disarm the persons of those who were denominated
Tories, Governor Tryon began to be apprehensive for his own safety.
The Congress of New York had resolved, "that it be recommended to
the several provincial assemblies or conventions and councils or
committees of safety to arrest and secure every person in their
respective colonies whose going at large may, in their opinion,
endanger the safety of the colony or the liberties of America."

Though Governor Tryon was not particularly named, he apprehended

himself a principal person pointed at in this resolve. This awakened
his fears to such a degree that he left the seat of government and
went on board the Halifax packet; from whence he wrote the mayor of
the city that he was there ready to execute any such business as the
circumstances of the times would permit. But the indifference as to the
residence or even the conduct of a plantation governor was now
become so general among the inhabitants of America that he soon
found his command in New York was at an end. After this, he put
himself at the head of a body of loyalists and annoyed the inhabitants
of New York and New Jersey and wherever else he could penetrate
with the assistance of some British troops that occasionally joined
them.

The governors of the several colonies, as if hurried by a

consciousness of their own guilt, flying like fugitives to screen
themselves from the resentment of the people, on board the King's
ships, appear as if they had been composed of similar characters to
those described by a writer of the history of such as were appointed
to office in the more early settlement of the American colonies. He
said, "It unfortunately happened for our American provinces that a
government in any of our colonies in those parts was scarcely looked
upon in any other light than that of a hospital, where the favorites of
the ministry might lie until they had recovered their broken fortunes,
and oftentimes they served as an asylum from their creditors."
[Modern Universal History, volume 39, p. 357.]

The neighboring government of New Jersey was for some time

equally embarrassed with that of New York. They felt the effects of
the impressions made by Governor Franklin, in favor of the measures
of administration; but not so generally as to preclude many of the
inhabitants from uniting with the other colonies, in vigorous steps to
preserve their civil freedom. Governor Franklin had, among many
other expressions which discovered his opinions, observed in a letter
to Mr. Secretary Conway, "It gives me great pleasure that I have been
able through all the late disturbances to preserve the tranquility of this
province, notwithstanding the endeavors of some to stimulate the
populace to such acts as have disgraced the colonies." He kept up
this tone of reproach, until he also was deprived by the people of his
command; and New Jersey, by the authority of committees, seized all
the money in the public treasury, and appropriated it to the pay of the
troops raising for the common defense. They took every other
prudent measure in their power, to place themselves in readiness for
the critical moment.
Pennsylvania, though immediately under the eye of Congress, has
some peculiar difficulties to struggle with, from a proprietary
government, from the partisans of the Crown, and the great body of
the Quakers, most of them opposed to the American cause. But the
people in general were guarded and vigilant and far from neglecting
the most necessary steps for general defense.

In Virginia, Maryland, and the Carolinas, where they had the greatest
number of African slaves, their embarrassments were accumulated,
and the dangers which hung over them, peculiarly aggravated. From
their long habit of filling their country with foreign saves, they were
threatened with a host of domestic enemies, from which the other
colonies had nothing to fear. The Virginians had been disposed in
general to treat their governor, Lord Dunmore, and his family, with
every mark of respect; and had not his intemperate zeal in the service
of his master given universal disgust, he might have remained longer
among them, and finally have left them in a much less disgraceful
manner.

However qualified this gentleman might have been to preside in any of

the colonies in more pacific seasons, he was little calculated for the
times when ability and moderation, energy and condescension,
coolness in decision, and delicacy in execution were highly requisite
to govern a people struggling with the poniard at their throat and the
sword in their hand, against the potent invaders of their privileges and
claims.

He had the inhumanity early to intimate his designs if opposition ran

high to declare freedom to the blacks, and, on any appearance of
hostile resistance to the King's authority to arm them against their
masters. Neither the House of Burgesses nor the people at large
were disposed to recede from their determinations in consequence of
this threats nor to submit to any authority that demanded implicit
obedience on pain of devastation and ruin. Irritated by opposition too
rash for consideration, too haughty for condescension, and fond of
distinguishing himself in support of the parliamentary system, Lord
Dunmore dismantled the fort in Williamsburg, plundered the
magazines, threatened to lay the city in ashes and depopulate the
country: As far as he was able, he executed his nefarious purposes.

When his lordship found the resolution of the House of Burgesses, the
committees and conventions was no where to be shaken, he
immediately proclaimed the emancipation of the blacks and put arms
into their hands. He excited disturbances in the back settlements and
encouraged the natives bordering on the southern colonies to rush
from the wilderness and make inroads on the frontiers. For this
business, he employed as his agent one Connolly, a Scotch
renegado, who traveled from Virginia to the Ohio and from the Ohio
to General Gage at Boston, with an account of his success and a
detail of his negotiations. From General Gage, he received a colonel's
commission and was by him ordered to return to the savages and
encourage them with the aid of some British settlers on the River
Ohio to penetrate the back country and distress the borders of
Virginia. But fortunately, Connolly was arrested in his career, and with
his accomplices taken and imprisoned on his advance through
Maryland. He papers were seized, and a full disclosure of the cruel
designs of his employers sent forward to Congress.

By the indiscreet conduct of Lord Dunmore, the ferments in Virginia

daily increased. All respect toward the Governor was lost, and his
lady, terrified by continual tumult, left the palace and took sanctuary
on board one of the King's ships. After much alteration and dispute,
with everything irritating on the one side and no marks of submission
on the other, his lordship left his seat, and with his family and a few
loyalists retired on board the Fowey man of war, where his lady in
great anxiety had resided many days. [Lady Dunmore soon after took
passage for England.] There he found some of the most criminal of
his partisans had resorted before he quitted the government. With
these and some banditti that had taken shelter in a considerable
number of vessels under his lordship's command and the assistance
of a few runaway negroes, he carried on a kind of predatory war on
the colony for several months. The burning of Norfolk, the beset won
in the territory of Virginia, completed his disgraceful campaign. [see
Note 12 at the end of this chapter]. It has been asserted by some that
the inhabitants themselves assisted in the conflagration of Norfolk to
prevent Lord Dunmore's retaining it as a place of arms.

The administration of Lord William Campbell and Mr. Martin, the

governors of the two Carolinas, had no distinguished trait from that of
most of the other colonial governors. They held up the supreme
authority of Parliament in the same high style of dignity and
announced the resentment of affronted majesty and the severe
punishment that would be inflicted on congresses conventions and
committees, and the miserable situation to which the people of
America would be reduced if they continued to adhere to the factious
demagogues of party. With the same spirit and cruel policy that
instigated Lord Dunmore, they carried out their negotiations with the
Indians, and encouraged the insurrections of the negroes, until all
harmony and confidence were totally destroyed between themselves
and the people who supported their own measures for defense in the
highest tone of freedom and independence. Both the Governors of
North and South Carolina soon began to be apprehensive of the
effects of public resentment, and, about this time, thought it
necessary for their own safety to repair on board the King's ships,
though their language and manners had not been equally rash and
abusive with that of the Governor of Virginia.

Henry Laurens, Esq. was President of the Provincial Congress of

South Carolina at this period, whose uniform virtue and
independence of spirit we shall see conspicuously displayed
hereafter on many other trying occasions. It was not long after the
present period when he wrote to a friend and observed that "he meant
to finish his peregrinations in this world by a journey through the
United States; then retire and learn to die." But he had this important
lesson to learn in the ordeal of affliction and disappointment that he
severely experienced in his public life and domestic sorrows which he
bore with that firmness and equanimity which ever dignifies great and
good characters.

Sir Robert Eden, Governor of Maryland, a man of social manners,

jovial temper, and humane disposition, had been more disposed to
lenity and forbearance than any of the great officers in the American
department. But so high wrought was the opposition to British
authority and the jealousies entertained of all magistrates appointed
by the crown, that it was not long after the departure of the
neighboring governors, before he was ordered by Congress to quit
his government and repair to England. He was obliged to comply,
though with much reluctance. He had been in danger of very rough
usage before his departure from General Lee, who had intercepted a
confidential letter from Lord George Germaine to Governor Eden. Lee
threatened to seize and confine him, but by the interference of the
Committee of Safety and some military officers at Annapolis, the
order was not executed. They thought it wrong to consider him as
responsible for the sentiments contained in the letters of his
correspondents; and only desired Mr. Eden to give his word of honor
that he would not leave the province before the meeting of a General
Congress of that state; not did they suffer him to be farther molested.
He was permitted quietly to take leave of his friends and his province,
after he had received the order o the Continental Congress for his
departure; and in hopes of returning in more tranquil times, he left his
property behind him, and sailed for England in the summer of 1776.
[See the conduct relative to Sire Robert Eden and the transactions
between the southern governors and the people, this year, at large in
the British Remembrancer, which is here anticipated to prevent
interrupting the narration by any further detail of General Lee's
transactions in Maryland relative to Governor Eden.]

The influence of Sir James Wright, the Governor of Georgia,

prevented that state from acceding to the measure of a general
congress in 1774. Yet the people at large were equally disaffected,
and soon after, in an address to his Excellency, acknowledged
themselves the only link in the great American chain that had not
publicly united with the other colonies in their opposition to the claims
of Parliament. They called a Provincial Congress, who resolved in the
name of their constituents that they would receive no merchandise
whatever from Great Britain or Ireland after July 7, 1775; that they
fully approved and adopted the American declaration and bill of
rights, published by the late Continental Congress; that they should
now join with the other colonies, choose delegates to meet in General
Congress; that they meant invariably to adhere to the public cause;
and that they would no longer lie under the suspicion of being
unconcerned for the rights and freedom of America.

Indeed the torch of war seemed already to have reached the most
distant corner of the continent. The flame had spread and penetrated
to the last province in America held by Great Britain, and a way
opened to the gates of Quebec, before administration had dreamed
of the smallest danger in that quarter. Soon after the action at
Lexington, a number of enterprising young men, principally from
Connecticut, proposed to each other a sudden march towards the
lakes, and a bold attempt to surprise Ticonderoga, garrisoned by the
King's troops. These young adventurers applied to Governor Trumbull
and obtained leave of the Assembly of Connecticut to pursue their
project; and so secretly, judiciously, and rapidly was the expedition
conducted that they entered the garrison and saluted the principal
officer as their prisoner before he had any reason to apprehend an
enemy was near. [ On the surprise of Ticonderoga, the commanding
officer there inquired by whose authority this was done? Colonel Allen
replied, "I demand your surrender in the name of the great Jehovah
and the Continental Congress."] This enterprise was conducted by
the Colonels Easton, Arnold, and Allen. The invaders possessed
themselves of a considerable number of brass and iron cannon and
many warlike stores, without suffering any loss of life.

It had been proved beyond a doubt that the British government had
spared no pains to encourage the inroads of the savages; of
consequence, this coup de main was deemed a very meritorious and
important step. Ticonderoga commanded all the passes between
Canada and the other provinces. The possession of this important
 fortress on the Lake Champlain, in a great measure secured the
frontiers from the incursions of the savages, who had been excited by
the cruel polity of Britain to war, which, by these ferocious nations, is
ever carried on by modes at which humanity shudders and civilization
blushes to avow. [A few months after the expedition, Colonel Allen
experienced a reverse of fortune, by falling to the hands of the British
near Montreal, was loaded with irons, and immediately sent to
England.]

Thus was the sword brandished through the land, and hung
suspended from cruel execution of all the evils attendant on a state of
civil convulsion, only by the faint hope that the Sovereign of Britain
might yet be softened to hold out the olive branch in one hand and a
redress of grievances in the other. But every pacific hope was
reversed, and all prospect of the restoration of harmony annihilated
early in the summer, by the arrival of a large reinforcement at Boston,
commanded by three general officers of high consideration.

All former delusive expectations now extinguished, both the

statesman and the peasant, actuated by the feelings of the man and
the patriot, discovered a most unconquerable magnanimity of spirit.
Undismayed by the necessity of an appeal to the sword, though
unprovided with the sufficient resources for so arduous a conflict,
they animated each other to sustain it, if necessary, until they should
leave their foes only a depopulated soil, if victory should declare in
their favor. Nature revolts at the idea, when the poniard is pushed by
despair; yet preferring death to thraldom, the Americans were
everywhere decisive in council and determined in action. There
appeared that kind of enthusiasm which sets danger at defiance and
impels the manly arm to resist, until the warm current that plays round
the heart, is poured out as a libation at the shrine of freedom.

On the other hand, the fears of the dependents on the Crown were
dissipated by the augmentation of the British army, their hopes
invigorated and every artifice used to spread terror and dismay
among the people. The turpitude of rebellion and the dread
consequences of defeat were painted in the most gloomy colors; the
merits and the abilities of the principal officers extolled, their
distinguished names and characters enhanced, and every thing
circulated that might tend to weaken the resolution of the people.

It was said, General Burgoyne commanded a squadron of light horse

which was to scour the country, and pick up the leading insurgents in
every quarter. The capacity, bravery, and virtues of General Clinton
were everywhere announced by the votaries of administration; and
the name of Howe was at that time at once revered, beloved and
dreaded in America. A monumental tribute of applause had been
reared in honor of one brother, who had fallen in that country in the
late war between Great Britain and France; and the gratitude of the
people had excited a predilection in favor of the other, and indeed of
every branch of that family. But this partiality was soon succeeded by
a universal disgust towards the two surviving brothers, Lord and
General Howe, who undertook the conquest of America; a project
held reproachful, and which would have reflected dishonor on the
perpetrators, even had it been crowned with success.

In the beginning of June, 1775, General Gage thought proper to act a

more decided part than he had hitherto done. He published a
proclamation, denouncing martial law in all its rigors against any one
who should supply, conceal, or correspond with any of those he was
pleased to stigmatize by the epithets of traitors, rebels, or insurgents.
But as an act of grace, he offered pardon in the King's name to all
who should lay down their arms and submit to mercy, only excluding
by name, Samuel Adams and John Hancock; he alleged that their
crimes were of too flagitious a nature to hope for pardon.

This proscription discovered the little knowledge which General Gage

then possessed of the temper of the times, the disposition of the
people at large, or the character of individuals. His discrimination,
rather accidental than judicious, set these two gentlemen in the most
conspicuous point of view, and drew the particular attention of the
whole continent to their names, distinguished from many of their
compeers, more by this single circumstance than by superior ability
or exertion. By this they became at once the favorites of popularity
and the objects of general applause, which at that time would have
been the fortune of anyone honored by such a mark of
disapprobation of the British commander in chief.

Mr. Adams was a gentleman of good education, a decent family, but

no fortune. Early nurture din the principles of civil and religious liberty,
he possessed a quick understanding, a cool head, stern manners, a
smooth address, and a Roman-like firmness, united with that sagacity
and penetration that would have made a figure in a conclave. He was
at the same time liberal in opinion, and uniformly devout; social with
men of all denominations, grave in deportment; placid, yet severe;
sober and indefatiguable; calm in seasons of difficulty, tranquil and
unruffled in the vortex of political altercation; too firm to be
intimidated, too haughty for condescension, his mind was replete with
resources that dissipated fear, and extricated in the greatest
emergencies. Thus qualified, he stood forth early, and continued firm,
through the great struggle, and may justly claim a large share of
honor, due to that spirit of energy which opposed the measures of
administration and produced the independence of America. Through
a long life, he exhibited on all occasions an example of patriotism,
religion, and virtue honorary to the human character.

Mr. Hancock was a young gentleman of fortune, of more external

accomplishments than real abilities. He was polite in manners, easy
in address, affable, civil, and liberal. With these accomplishments, he
was capricious, sanguine, and implacable: naturally generous, he
was profuse in expense; he scattered largesses without discretion,
and purchased favors by the waste of wealth, until he reached the
ultimatum of his wishes, which centered in the focus of popular
applause. He enlisted early in the cause of his country, at the
instigation of some gentlemen of penetration, who thought his ample
fortune might give consideration, while his fickleness could not injure,
so long as he was under the influence of men of superior judgment.
They complimented him by nominations to committees of importance,
until he plunged too far to recede; and flattered by ideas of his own
consequence, he had taken a decided part before the Battle of
Lexington, and was President of the Provincial Congress when that
even took place.

By the appearance of zeal, added to a certain alacrity of engaging in

any public department, Mr. Hancock was influential in keeping up the
tide of opposition; and by a concurrence of fortuitous circumstances,
among which this proscription was the most capital, he reached the
summit of popularity which raised him afterwards to the most
elevated stations, and very fortunately he had the honor of affixing his
signature as president to many of the subsequent proceedings of the
Continental Congress, which will ever hold an illustrious rank in the
page of history.

Mr. Hancock had repaired to Philadelphia to take his seat in Congress

immediately after he made his escape from Lexington. Part of the
object of the excursion of April 18 was the capture of him and Mr.
Adams. They were both particularly inquired for, and the house in
which they lodged was surrounded by the King's troops the moment
after these gentlemen had retreated half-naked. Had they been found,
they would undoubtedly have been shut up in Boston, if nothing more
fatal had been inflicted, instead of being left a liberty to pursue a
political career that will transmit their names, with applause, to
posterity.

The absence of the late worthy President of Congress, Mr. Randolph,

and the arrival of Mr. Hancock at Philadelphia at the fortunate
moment when the enthusiasm inspired by Gage's proclamation was
at the height, both concurred to promote his elevation. He was
chosen to preside in the respectable assembly of delegates,
avowedly on the sole principle of his having been proscribed by
General Gage. It was uncouthly said by a member of Congress that
"they would show mother Britain how little they cared for her by
choosing a Massachusetts man for their president, who had been
recently excluded from pardon by public proclamation." The choice
was suddenly made and with rather too much levity for the times, or
for the dignity of the office. Mr. Hancock's modesty prompted him for
a moment to hesitate on the unexpected event, as if diffident of his
own qualifications; when one of the members, [A Mr. Harrison, from
Virginia, the same who made the above speech. These
circumstances were verbally detailed to the author of these annals by
a respectable member of Congress then present.] of a more robust
constitution, and less delicacy of manners, took him in his arms, and
placed him in the presidential chair.

This sudden elevation might place the fortunate candidate in a similar

situation with the celebrated Pope Ganganelli, who observed of
himself that after putting on the triple crown, he often felt his own
pulse to see if he was the same identical person he was a few years
before. Mr. Hancock continued in the presidential chair until October,
1779, when he took a formal leave of Congress and never again
rejoined that respectable body. His time, however, was fully occupied
in his own state in the various employments to which was called by a
majority of voices in the Massachusetts, where his popular talents
had a commanding influence during the residue of his life. [See Note
13 at the end of this chapter] But in the progress of the revolution,
several men of less consequence than Mr. Hancock and with far
inferior claims to patriotism were raised to the same dignified station.

In the effervescence of popular commotions, it is not uncommon to

see the favorites of fortune elevated to the pinnacle of rank by trivial
circumstances that appear the result of accident.

Those who mark the changes and the progress of events through all
revolutions will frequently see distinctions bestowed where there are
no commanding talents and honors retained more from the strong
influence of popular enthusiasm than from the guidance of reason,
which operates too little on the generality of mankind.

It may be observed that public commotions in human affairs, like the

shocks of nature, convulse the whole system and level the lofty
mountains which have arisen for ages above the clouds, beneath the
valleys; while the hillock, unnoticed before, is raised to a pitch of
elevation that renders it a landmark for the eye of weary seamen to
rest upon.

All revolutions evince the truth of the observation of a writer that

"Many men great in title have the spirit of slaves, many low in fortune
have great spirits, many a Cicero has kept sheep, many a Caesar
followed the plough, many a Virgil folded cattle." [Sir Francis
Osborne's Memoirs]

The sudden rotations in human affairs are wisely permitted by

Providence to remind mankind of their natural equality, to check the
pride of wealth, to restrain the insolence of rank and family
distinctions which too frequently oppress the various classes in
society.

The late proclamation of General Gage was considered as a prelude

to immediate action, and from all intelligence that could be obtained
from the town, there appeared the strongest reason to expect a
second sally from the troops lying in Boston. Uncertain on which side
the storm would begin, the provincial thought it necessary to guard
against surprise by fortifying on both sides of the town, in the best
manner they were able. They threw up some slight entrenchments at
Roxbury, and several other places on the south side of Boston; at the
same time, on the night of June 16, they began some works at the
extreme part of a peninsula at the north, running from Charlestown to
the river, which separates that town from Boston. They executed this
business with such secrecy and dispatch that the officers of a ship of
war then in the river expressed their astonishment in the morning
when they saw some considerable works reared and fortified in the
compass of a few hours, where, from the contiguous situation, they
least expected the Americans would look them in the face. [These
works were erected on Breed's Hill. This was the spot that cost the
British army so dear through the glorious action of that day generally
styled the Battle of Bunker Hill. After the Americans retreated, the
British left Breed's Hill, took their stand, and strongly fortified Bunker
Hill, about a fourth of a mile distant. Thus has the name of the place
of action been frequently confounded.]

The alarm was immediately given, and orders issued, that a continual
fire should be kept playing on the unfinished works from the ships,
the floating batteries in the river, and a fortified hill on the other side;
but with unparalleled perseverance, the Americans continued to
strengthen their entrenchments, without returning a shot until near
noon, when the British army, consisting of ten companies of
grenadiers, four battalions of infantry, and a heavy train of artillery,
advanced under the command of General Pigot and Major General
Howe. A severe engagement ensured: many men and several brave
officers of the royal army fell on the first fire of the Americans. This
unexpected salute threw them into some confusion; but by the
firmness of General Howe, and the timely assistance of General
Clinton, who, with a fresh detachment arrived in season, the troops
were immediately rallied and brought to the charge with redoubled
fury. They ;mounted the ramparts with fixed bayonets, and
notwithstanding the most heroic resistance, they soon made
themselves masters of the disputed hill.

Overpowered by numbers and exhausted by the fatigue of the

preceding night and all hope of reinforcement cut off by the incessant
fire of the ships across a neck of land that separated them from the
country, the provincials were obliged to retreat and leave the ground
to the British troops. Many of their most experienced officers
acknowledged the valor of their opponents; and that in proportion to
the forces engaged, there had been few actions in which the military
renown of British troops had been more severely tried. Their chagrin
was manifest that the bravery of British soldiers, which had been
often signalized in the nobles feats of valor, should be thus resisted;
that they should be galled, wounded, and slaughtered by a handful of
cottagers, as they termed them, under officers of little military skill,
and less experience, whom they had affected to hold in ineffable
contempt.

There is a certain point of military honor that often urges against the
feelings of humanity, to dip the sword in blood. Thus, from the early
maxims of implicit obedience, the first principle of military education,
many men of real merit hazarded fortune, life, and reputation in the
inglorious work of devastation and ruin, through the e fields and
villages of America. Yet such was the reluctance shown by some to
engage with spirit in the disagreeable enterprise of this day that their
officers were obliged to sue the utmost severity towards them, to
stimulate others to persevere. The town of Charlestown was reduced
to ashes by the fire of the shipping, while the land forces were
storming the hills. Thus, in concert, was this flourishing and compact
town destroyed, in the most wanton display of power. There were
about 400 dwelling houses in the center of Charlestown, which, with
the out-houses adjacent, and many buildings in the suburbs were
also sunk in the conflagration. The fate of this unfortunate town was
beheld with solemnity and regret, by many even of those who were
not favorably disposed to the liberties of the western world. The
ingratitude which marked the transaction aggravated the guilty deed.
We have recently seen the inhabitants of that place, prompted by
humanity, opening their doors for the relief, and pouring balm into the
wounds of the routed corps on April 19. This in the eye of justice must
enhance the atrocity and forever stigmatize the ingratitude which so
soon after wrapped the town in flames and sent out the naked
inhabitants, the prey of poverty and despair.

There are few things which place the pride of man in a more
conspicuous point of view than the advantages claimed in all military
rencontres that are not decisive. Thus, though at the expense of
many lives, and the loss of some of their bravest officers, the British
army exulted much in becoming masters of an unfinished
 entrenchment and driving the Americans from their advanced post.
Upwards of 1000 men, including the wounded, fell in this action on
the royal side. Among the slain was Lieutenant Colonel Abercrombie,
an officer much esteemed by his friends and his country, and a Major
Pitcairn, a gentleman of so much merit that his fall was lamented
even by his enemies. His valor on this occasion would have reflected
glory on his memory, had it been signalized in a more honorable
cause. [It may be observed that his zeal in the cause in which he was
engaged had hurried him previous to this action to some steps that
could not easily be forgiven by Americans, particularly by those who
believed him to have been the officer who first gave the order for the
King's troops to fire on the militia assembling at Lexington on their
appearance.]

While this tragedy was acting on the other side of the Charles River,
the terror and consternation of the town of Boston are scarcely
describable. In the utmost anxiety, they beheld the scene from the
eminences. Apprehensive for themselves, and trembling for their
friends engaged in the bloody conflict, they were not less affected by
the hideous shrieks of the women and children connected with the
King's troops, who beheld their husbands, their friends, and relations,
wounded, mangled, and slain, ferried over the river in boatloads from
the field of carnage.

On the other side, though the Americans were obliged to quit the field
with very considerable loss, yet they gloried in the honor they had this
day acquired by arms. They retired only one mile from the scene of
action, where they took possession of an advantageous height, and
threw up new works on Prospect Hill, with the enthusiasm of men
determined to be free. They soon environed the town of Boston on all
sides with military parade, and though they wept the fall of many
brave men, they bade a daily challenge to their enemies.

But a cloud was cast over every face by the death of the intrepid
Major General Joseph Warren, who, to the inexpressible grief of his
countrymen, lost his life in the memorable action usually styled the
Battle of Bunker Hill. He fell covered with laurels, choosing rather to
die in the field than to grace the victory of his foes by the triumph they
would have enjoyed in his imprisonment. He had been chosen
president of the Provincial Congress when Mr. Hancock repaired to
Philadelphia. and was an active volunteer in several skirmishes that
had taken place since the commencement of hostilities, which in the
minds of his enemies would have sanctioned the severest indignities
their resentment might have dictated had he fallen into their hands at
this early period of the war.

This gentleman had been appointed a major general only four days
previous to the late action: he was educated in the medical line, and
was much respected for his professional as well as his political
abilities. He possessed a clear understanding, a strong mind, a
disposition humane and generous, with manners easy, affable and
engaging; but zealous, active, and sanguine in the cause of his
oppressed country, it is to be lamented that he rather incautiously
courted the post of danger and rushed precipitately on his fate, while
more important occasions required his paying some regard to
personal safety. Yet, if the love of fame is the strongest passion of the
mind, and human nature pants for distinction in the flowery field,
perhaps there was never a moment of more unfading glory, offered to
the wishes of the brave than that which marked the exit of this heroic
officer.

He was the first victim of rank that fell by the sword in the contest
between Great Britain and America: and the conflagration of
Charlestown, enkindled by the wanton barbarity of his enemies,
lighted his manes to the grave. These circumstances ensure a
record in every historical annal, while his memory will be revered by
every lover of his country, and the name of Warren will be enrolled at
the head of that band of patriots and heroes who sacrificed their lives
to purchase the independence of America.
After the late action, the British troops appeared to be in no condition
for further operations; weakened by the severe engagement near
Bunker Hill, sickly in the camp, and disheartened by unexpected
bravery where they had feared no resistance; straitened for
provisions, destitute of forage, except what was piratically plundered
from the neighboring shore, they kept themselves shut up in Boston
the remainder of the summer. Here they continued in so quiet a
manner that had they not sometimes for their own amusement
saluted the country with the sound of a useless canonade or the
bursting of a shell, the people might have forgotten that the Monarch
of Britain had several thousand soldiers cooped up within the walls of
a city that still acknowledged him as their Sovereign. the inhabitants
of the town were held in duress, but their military masters did not
presume to enlarge their won quarters.

While this interesting scene had been acting in the field, the Congress
of the Massachusetts had sent on to Philadelphia for the opinion of
the united delegates relative to their assumption of a regular form of
government. Articles of Confederation had been agreed to in General
Congress, in which a recapitulation of grievances and the reasons for
taking up arms were subjoined in terms little short of a declaration of
war. These had been published in May, 1775; but their ratification by
legislative bodies or provincial congresses, had not yet generally
taken place. But as the independence of America was not yet formally
declared, it was in contemplation with many members of Congress as
well as others of equal judgment, that when all should be convinced
that the breach between the two countries was totally irreconcilable,
that the same modes of legislation and government should be
adopted in all the colonies. It was then thought that a similarity of
manners, police, and government, throughout the continent, would
cement the union and might support the sovereignty of each
individual state, while yet, for general purposes, all should be in
subordination to the congressional head.

An elegant writer has observed that it is no easy matter to render the

union of independent states perfect and entire, unless the genius and
forms of their respective governments are in some degree similar.
The judicious body assembled at Philadelphia were fully convinced of
this; they were not insensible that a number of states, under different
constitutions and various modes of government and civil police, each
regulated by their own municipal laws, would soon be swayed by
local interests that might create irreconcilable feuds tending to disjoint
the whole. [Congress had about this time adopted the resolution to
advise each of the colonies explicitly to renounce the government of
Great Britain and to form constitutions of government for themselves,
adequate to their exigencies, and agreeable to their own modes of
thinking, where any variation of sentiment prevailed. This was acted
upon and a representative government, consisting of one or more
branches, was adopted in each colony.] It was therefore judged best
to recommend to the Massachusetts the resumption of a regular form
of government in the present exigency, on the plan of the old charter
of William and Mary, which gave authority to the majority of
counsellors, chosen by a house of representatives, to exercise all
governmental acts, as if the governor was really absent of dead.

On this recommendation, James Warren, Esq., President of the

Provincial Congress, by their authority, issued writs in his own name,
requiring the freeholders in every town to convene and elect their
representatives, to meet at Watertown on July 20, 1775. This
summons was readily obeyed, and a full house appeared at the time
and place appointed; the late president of the Provincial Congress
was unanimously chosen Speaker of the New House. Regardless of
the vacant chair, they selected a Council, and the two ranches
proceeded to legislation and the internal police of the province, as
usually had been the practice in the absence of the Governor and
Lieutenant Governor. [See Note 14 at the end of this chapter.]

Thus, after living for more than 12 months without any legal
government, without law, and without any regular administration of
justice, but what arose from the internal sense of moral obligation
which is seldom a sufficient restraint on the people at large, the
Massachusetts returned peaceably to the regular and necessary
 subordination of civil society reduced nearly to a state of nature with
regard to all civil or authoritative ties, it is almost incredible that the
principles of rectitude and common justice should have been so
generally influential. For, such is the restless and hostile disposition of
man that it will not suffer him to remain long in a state of repose,
whether on the summit of human glory, or reclined on his own native
turf, when probable contingencies promise him the acquisition of
either wealth or fame. From the wants, the weakness, and the
ferocity of human nature, mankind cannot subsist long in society,
without some stable system of coercive power. Yet amid the
complicated difficulties whit which they were surrounded, the horrors
of anarchy were far from prevailing in the province: vice seemed to be
abashed by the examples of moderation, disinterestedness, and
generosity, exhibited by many of the patriotic leaders of present
measures.

It ahs been observed already that not a drop of blood had ever been
spilt by the people in any of the commotions preceding the
commencement of war, and that the fear of popular resentment was
undoubtedly a guard on the conduct of some individuals. Others,
checked by the frowns of public virtue, crimes of an atrocious nature
had seldom been perpetrated: all classes seemed to be awed by the
magnitude of the objects before them; private disputes were amicably
adjusted or postponed, until time and events should give the
opportunity of legal decision or render the claims of individuals of little
consequence, by their being ingulfed in the torrent of despotism,
generally poured out by the conqueror, who fights for the
establishment of uncontrolled power.

********************

Note 11

Extract of a letter from Governor Hutchinson to Commodore Gambier.

"Boston, June 30, 1772.

"Dear Sir,

"... Our last ships carried you the news of the burning of the Gaspee
schooner at Providence. I hope if there should be another like
attempt, some concerned in it may be taken prisoners and carried
directly to England. A few punished at Execution Dock would be the
only effectual preventive of any further attempts..."

On the same subject, to Secretary Pownal.

"Boston, August 29, 1772.

"Dear Sir,

"I troubled you with a long letter the 21st of July. Give me leave now
only to add one or two things which I then intended, but, to avoid
being too tedious, omitted. People in this province, both friends an
enemies to government, are in great expectations from the late affair
at Rhode Island of burning the King's schooner, and they consider the
manner in which the news of it will be received in England, and the
measures to be taken, as decisive. If it is passed over without a full
inquiry and due resentment, our liberty people will think they may with
impunity commit any acts of violence, be they ever so atrocious, and
the friends to government will despond, and give up all hopes of
being able to withstand the faction. The persons who were
immediate actors are men of estate and property in the colony. A
prosecution is impossible. If ever the government of that colony is to
be reformed, this seems to be the

time, and it would have a happy effect on the colonies which adjoin to
it. Several persons have been advised by letters from their friends
that as the ministry are united, and the opposition at an end, there will
certainly be an inquiry into the state of America, the next session of
Parliament. The denial of the supremacy of Parliament and the
contempt with which its authority has been treated by the Lillputian
assemblies of America can never be justified or excused by any one
member of either house of Parliament...."

"Boston, September 2, 1772.

"Samuel Hood, Esquire

"Dear Sir,

"Captain Linzee can inform you of the state of Rhode Island colony
better than I can. So daring an insult as burning the King's schooner,
by people who are as well known as any who were concerned in the
last rebellion and yet cannot be prosecuted, will certainly rouse the
British lion, which has been asleep these four or five years. Admiral
Montague says that Lord Sandwich will never leave pursuing the
colony, until it is disenfranchised. If it is passed over, the other
colonies will follow the example."

******************************

Note 12

The sufferings of the colony of Virginia, under Lord Dunmore's

administration, and the spirit and magnanimity of the inhabitants,
might claim a larger detail in this narrative; but so distinguished have
been many of their leading characters, through all the transactions of
the great contest, from the introduction of the resolves by Patrick
Henry, in the year 1765, to the elevation of Mr. Jefferson to the
presidential chair in 1801, as to be sufficient to furnish ample
materials for a volume by itself. But every historical record of the
American Revolution and its consequences must necessarily
introduce the names of many illustrious characters that have adorned
and dignified the state of Virginia.

*************************

Note 13

Mr. Hancock retained his popularity to the end of his life. His death
did not take place until the year 1793. He was chosen governor of the
Massachusetts in 1780, and though a remarkable debilitation of body
rendered him to appearance little able to discharge the duties of the
first magistrate, yet the suffrages of the people kept him long in the
chair, after he was reduced to such a state of weakness as to be lifted
by his servants into his carriage, ad thence into the State House, to
deliver his public speeches. In this, he acquitted himself with a
degree of elocution, pleasing and popular, though his health did not
admit of his writing them previously, and seldom had he strength to
add his signature to the acts of the legislature. But his mental
faculties were not much impaired by the infirmities of his bodily
constitution; they were not indeed composed of those elementary
sparks of genius that soon burn themselves out; nor were the
energies of his mind blunted by industry and application.

He had been so long habituated to ideas of independence that after

they were thoroughly fixed in his mind, he uniformly retained his
principles to the last. He was against the consolidation of the general
government, and the monarchical views of many who had risen to
power before the had finished his career of life. He supported his
opinion of the sovereignty of the individual states in a manly manner,
in one of his last transactions of a public nature. This was his
conduct relative to the suability of the states. An experiment made by
a process commenced against the Massachusetts in favor of William
Vassal, Esquire, the governor of the state was summoned by a writ to
answer to the prosecution. He declined the smallest concession that
might lessen the independence and sovereignty of each state, and
 supported his opinion with firmness and dignity equally popular and
honorable to himself. Litigations of this nature were soon after barred
by an amendment in the Constitution of the United States.

An ample measure of gratitude was repaid to Mr. Hancock, both for

public services and private benefits; a mantle of love was thrown over
his foibles by his countrymen, and his memory was embalmed in the
affections of his townsmen.

****************************

Note 14

The state of Massachusetts continued this mode of legislation and

government until the year 1780, when a convention was called for the
purpose, and a more stable form adopted. By this, a governor,
lieutenant governor, senate, and house of representatives were to be
chosen by the free suffrages of the people. A council of nine were to
be chosen by the legislative, either form the senate or the people at
large.

______________________

The Rise, Progress and Termination of the American Revolution

Interspersed with Biographical, Political, and Moral Observations

by Mercy Otis Warren

Volume One

Chapter Seven: Continental Army. Mr. Washington appointed to the

command. General Gage recalled, succeeded by Sir William Howe.
Depredations on the sea coast. Falmouth burnt. Canadian affairs.
Death and character of General Montgomery.

Freedom, long hunted round the globe by a succession of tyrants,

appeared at this period as if about to erect her standard in America.
The scimitar was drawn from principles that held life and property as
a feather in the balance against the chains of servitude that clanked
in her disgusted ear. The blood of innocence had already crimsoned
over the fields which had teemed for the nourishment of Britain, who,
instead of listening to the groans of an oppressed country, had
recently wrung out the tears of anguish, until the inhabitants of the
plundered towns were ready to quit the elegances of life and take
refuge in the forest to secure the unimpaired possession of those
privileges which they considered as a grant from heaven, that no
earthly potentate had a right to seize with impunity.

The bulk of mankind have indeed, in all countries in their turn, been
made the prey of ambition. It is a truth that no one will contest, though
all may regret, that in proportion to the increase of wealth, the
improvement in arts, and the refinements in society, the great body of
the people have either by force or fraud become the slaves of the
few, who by chance, violence, or accident have destroyed the natural
equality of their associates. Sanctioned by time and habit, an
indefeasible right has been claimed that sets so mischievous a
creature as man above all law, and subjects the lives of millions to the
rapacious will of an individual who, by the intoxicating nature of
power, soon forgets that there are any obligations due to the subject,
a reptile in his opinion, made only for the drudgery necessary to
maintain the splendor of government and the support of prerogative.
Every step taken by the British government relative to the colonies
confirmed this truth, taught them their danger, and evinced to the
Americans the necessity of guarding at all points against the assumed
jurisdiction of an assembly of men disposed to innovate continually
on the rights of their fellow subjects who had no voice in Parliament,
and whose petitions did not reach or had no influence on the ear of
the sovereign.
The success of the last supplicatory address offered to the Parliament
of Britain by the United States still hung in suspense. Yet the crisis
appears so alarming that it was thought necessary by many to attend
immediately to the establishment of a continental army on some
stable and respectable footing. But there were some influential
members in Congress who dreaded the consequence of a step so
replete with the appearance of hostility, if not with the avowed design
of independence. They observed that such a measure would be an
inevitable bar to the restoration of harmony.

Some who had warmly opposed the measures of administration and

ably advocated the rights of the colonies were of this opinion. The
idea of dissevering the empire shocked their feelings. They still
ardently wished, both from the principles of humanity and what they
judged the soundest policy, to continue, is possible, the natural
connection with Britain. Others of a more timid complexion readily
united with these gentlemen and urged, notwithstanding the contempt
poured on all former supplications, that even if their late petition
should be rejected they should yet make one effort more for
conciliation and relief, by the hitherto fruitless mode of prayer and
remonstrance. Men of more enlarged and comprehensive views
considered this proposal as the finesse of shallow politicians,
designed only to prevent the organization of a continental army.

The celebrated Machiavelli, pronounced by some the prince of

politicians, has observed "that every state is in danger of dissolution
whose government is not frequently reduced to its original principles."
The conduct of the British administration towards the colonies, the
corruption of the government in every department, their deviations
from first principles, and the enormous public debt of the nation
evinced not only the necessity of a reform in Parliament, but
appeared to require such a renovation of the British Constitution as
was not likely soon to take place. Thus circumstanced, many thought
it the interest of America to dissolve the connection with such a
government, and were utterly opposed to delay or any further
application to the British king of Parliament, by petition or concession.
After a long debate on the subject, the last description of persons
were obliged reluctantly to accede to a measure which they thought
promised nothing but delay or disgrace. By a kind of necessary
compromise, a most humble and loyal petition directly to the King of
Great Britain was again agreed to by the delegated powers of the
United States. At the same time, it was stipulated by all parties that
military preparations should be made and an army raised without
further hesitation. A decided majority in Congress voted that 20,000
men should be immediately equipped

and supported at the expense of the United States of America. The

honorable William Penn, late governor of Pennsylvania, was chosen
agent to the Court of Britain, and directed to deliver the petition to the
King himself and to endeavor by his personal influence to procure a
favorable reception to this last address.

The command of the army, by unanimous voice of Congress, was

vested in George Washington, Esquire, then a delegate from the Sate
of Virginia. He received this mark of confidence from his country with
becoming modesty, and declined all compensation for his services,
more than should be sufficient to defray his expenditures, for which
he would regularly account.

Mr. Washington was a gentleman of family and fortune, of a polite, but

not a learned education. He appeared to possess a coolness of
temper and a degree of moderation and judgment that qualified him
for the elevated station in which he was now placed. With some
considerable knowledge of mankind, he supported the reserve of the
statesman with the occasional affability of the courtier. In his
character was blended a certain dignity, united with the appearance
of good humor. He possessed courage without rashness, patriotism
and zeal without acrimony, and retained with universal applause the
first military command until the establishment of independence.
Through the various changes of fortune in the subsequent conflict,
 though the slowness of his movements were censured by some, his
character suffered little diminution to the conclusion of a war that from
the extraordinary exigencies of an infant republic required at times
the caution of Fabius, the energy of Caesar, and the happy facility of
expedient in distress, so remarkable in the military operations of the
illustrious Frederick. [The late Kind of Prussia, well known for this trait
in his character by all who are acquainted with the history of his reign.]
With the first of these qualities, he was endowed by nature; the
second was awakened by necessity; and the third he acquired by
experience in the field of glory and danger, which extended his fame
through half the globe.

In the late war between England and France, Mr. Washington had
been in several military encounters and had particularly signalized
himself in the unfortunate expedition under General Braddock, in the
wilderness on the borders of the Ohio, in the year 1755. His conduct
on that occasion raised an eclat of his valor and prudence, in
consequence of which many young gentlemen from all parts of the
continent, allured by the name of Major Washington, voluntarily
entered the service, proud of being enrolled in the list of officers
under one esteemed so gallant a commander.

General Washington arrived at the camp at Cambridge in the

neighborhood of Boston in the beginning of July, 1775. He was
accompanied by several officers of distinction from the southern
states, and by Charles Lee and Horatio Gates, both natives of Great
Britain, appointed now to high rank in the American army. There
appeared much expectation from his abilities and a general
satisfaction in the appointment of Mr. Washington to the chief
command. A congratulatory address, expressive of their esteem, with
the strongest assurances of their aid and support, to enable him to
discharge the duties of his arduous and exalted station, was
presented to him from the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts
through the hand of their president, James Warren. To this
gentleman, General Washington brought letters of importance, and to
him he was referred for advice by the delegates of the
 Massachusetts, as "a judicious, confidential friend, who would never
deceive him."

In his reply to this address, General Washington observed, "That in

leaving the enjoyments of domestic life, he had only emulated the
virtue and public spirit of the whole province of Massachusetts Bay,
who with a firmness and patriotism without example in history had
sacrificed the comforts of social and private felicity in support of the
rights of mankind, and the welfare of their country." Indeed, all ranks
were emulous to manifest their respect to the commander of the
army. Multitudes flocked from every quarter to the American standard,
and within a few weeks the environs of Boston exhibited a brave and
high spirited army which formed to order, discipline, and
subordination more rapidly than could have been expected from their
former habits. Fired with an enthusiasm arising from a sense of the
justice of their cause; ardent, healthy, and vigorous; they were eager
for action, and impatient to be led to an attack on the town of Boston,
where the British army was encamped. But they were still ignorant
that both private and political adventurers had been so negligent of
their own and the public safety as to pay little attention to the
importation of powder, arms, and other warlike stores, previous to the
prohibition of Britain, restricting the shipment of those articles to
America, but for the immediate use of the King's troops.

Thus when hostilities commenced, and a war was denounced against

the colonies, they had innumerable difficulties to surmount. Several of
the most formidable powers of Europe had been invited by Britain to
aid the cruel purposes of administration, either by the loan of
auxiliaries, or by a refusal of supplies to the infant states, now
struggling alone against a foe whose power, pride, and success had
often made the nations tremble. On a retrospect of the critical
situation of America, it is astonishing she did not fall at the threshold.
She had new governments to erect in the several states; her
legislatures to form; and her civil police to regulate on untrodden
ground. She had her armies to establish and funds to provide for their
payment. She had her alliances to negotiate, new sources of trade to
strike out, and a navy to begin, while the thunder of Britain was
alarming her coasts, the savages threatening her borders, and the
troops of George III, with the sword uplifted, pushing their execrable
purpose to exterminate the last vestige of freedom.

But as Providence had led to the period of independence, the powers

of industry and invention were called forth. Not discouraged by the
magnitude of the work or the numberless obstacles to the completion
of their design, no difficulties damped the ardor and unanimity of their
exertions, though for a time it appeared as if their magazines must be
furnished by the nitre from heaven and the ore dug by their own
hands from the bowels of the earth. The manufacture of salt-peter, at
first considered as the ideal project of some enthusiast for freedom,
was not only attempted, but became the easy occupation of women
and children. Large quantities

were furnished from many parts of America, and powder mills were
erected which worked it with success. Sulfur, lead, and iron ore are
the natural productions of the country, and mountains of flint had
recently been discovered and wrought for use. As nature had thus
furnished the materials, every hand that was not engaged in arms
was employed in arts, with an alacrity and cheerfulness that
discovered a determination to be free. Precipitated into a conflict that
probably might light half Europe in flames, the demand was too great,
and the process too slow to rely entirely on the efforts of genius and
industry.

When General Washington became fully apprised of the astonishing

deficiency in the article of power, having been led into a
misapprehension of the stock on hand, by irregular returns, he
embarrassment was great. He immediately applied for advice tot he
Speaker of the House of Representatives, who judged that the most
prompt measures were indispensably necessary. They agreed that
the Speaker should communicate the circumstance to a few
members who might be confidentially entrusted: the result was that
committees were immediately sent by the Assembly to many towns in
the province, in a cautious, guarded manner, to require the stocks of
powder on hand in their several magazines. This was expeditiously
effected, and with little difficulty; but the collection was very
inadequate, yet sufficient to relieve the anxiety of the present
moment. Happily they were not apprised within the walls of Boston of
the poverty of their antagonists without, particularly in this article, until
they had time to collect the small stocks from the neighboring towns
and to receive some, though far from an ample supply, from the
southern colonies. At this crisis, had General Gage ventured without
his entrenchments, both the American army and the people must
have been involved in extreme distress.

Several vessels had been privately sent both to the Dutch and English
islands to procure arms and ammunition; but so narrowly were they
watched by the British cruisers that they had returned with little
success.

These circumstances accelerated a spirited measure, before

contemplated only by a few. The arming and equipping of ships to
cruise on British property was a bold attempt that startled
apprehensions of many zealously opposed to the undue exercise of
British power; but necessity impelled, and the enterprise was
pursued. The General Assembly of the Massachusetts soon resolved
to build, equip, and arm a number of vessels suitable for the purpose,
to cruise and capture any British ships that might be found on or near
their coasts. They granted letters of marque and reprisal to several
adventurers, and appointed courts of admiralty for the trial and
condemnation of any captures within those limits. By these means,
the seasonable capture, in the beginning of this enterprise, of a
British ship laden with ordnance and an assorted cargo of warlike
stores sufficiently supplied the exigencies of the army and dissipated
the fears of those who had suffered the most painful apprehensions
for the safety of their country.
These naval preparations may perhaps be said not to have been
merely of a defensive nature -- the line yet avowedly observed by the
Americans. But they had advanced too far to recede. Sophistical
distinctions of words or names were laid aside. It is a fact, of which
everyone is sensible, that successful opposition to arbitrary sway
places a civic crown on the head of the hero that resists, when
contingencies that defeat confer a hemp cord instead of laurel. The
success and catastrophe of the infant navy of America will be shown
in the succeeding pages.

The naked state of the magazines had been kept as secret as

possible, and every preparation for attack of defense had been made
as if no deficiency was felt, while there were not three rounds of
powder in the American camp. Lines of circumvallation had been
formed from Mystic River to Roxbury and Dorchester. But,
notwithstanding the appearance of strength, the collection of
numbers, and the hostile disposition of both parties, nothing of
consequence was attempted by either, after the action of June 17,
during the remainder of Gage's administration. This inactivity was
heavily censured by the more ardent spirits both within and without
the camp. It was thought disgraceful on the one side, nor would it
have been less dishonorable on the other had not their inability from
the causes just mentioned prevented more vigorous movements. Yet,
from the circumstances of the colonies, their petition to the King still
pending, and their allegiance not formally renounced, it was judged
by many most prudent for the American army to remain for the present
only on the defensive.

Governor Gage obtained leave to repair to England in the autumn of

1775. It was indeed unfortunate for him that he had been appointed
to the command of an army and the government of a province without
the talents that qualified for the times. He was naturally a man of a
humane disposition, nor had his courage ever been impeached. But
he had not the intrigue of the statesman to balance the parties, nor the
sagacity necessary to defeat their designs. Nor was he possessed of
that soldierly promptitude that leaves no interval between the
determination and the execution of his projects. Glad to quit the
thorny field, he bade adieu to a country he had not the ability and
perhaps not the inclination to subdue, and the command of the army
devolved on Sir William Howe.

General Oglethorpe, his senior in office, an experienced veteran,

grown old in military fame without sullying his laurels, had the prior
offer of this command. He agreed to accept the appointment on
condition the ministry would authorize him to assure the colonies that
justice should be done them. His proposal at once appeared the
result of humanity and equity. He declared that "he knew the people of
America well; that they never would be subdued by arms, but that
their obedience would be ever secured by doing them justice."
[British Annual Register.] A man with these ideas was not a fit
instrument for the designs of the British government. He was,
therefore, agreeable to his own request, permitted to remain at home,
where he was a quiet spectator of the folly of his country through a
seven years war with the colonies. [General Oglethorpe had been
distinguished for the benevolence of his disposition through all his
transactions in America, where he had resided several years. His
mildness and equity towards the natives of the early settlement of the
state of Georgia, and his conduct both in a civil and military capacity
had won the esteem and affection of the inhabitants of the southern
colonies the approbation of his sovereign, and the applause of his
native country -- Modern Universal History, Volume 11]. On his
declining the appointment, the important and hazardous command
was given to General Howe, a man of pleasure and a soldier. But the
predominance of the first trait in his character often interfered with the
vigor and decision necessary to complete the last. Early on his
promotion, his severity and indiscretion erased the favorable
impression which many in America yet cherished for his name and
family. In the beginning of his administration, he published a
proclamation condemning to military execution any of the remaining
inhabitants of Boston who should attempt to leave the town. He
compelled them to form themselves into bodies under officers he
should appoint and to take arms in case of an attack against their
brethren in the country. Yet for a certain sum of money, he promised
an exemption from the cruel task of imbruing their hands in the blood
of their friends. But the most memorable event that took place while
he presided in the province, previous to the evacuation of Boston,
was the cannonade and destruction of Falmouth, a flourishing and
well-built town on the eastern parts of Massachusetts.

Alarm and depredation had spread from shore to shore through all the
sea coasts of America. Their shipping were seized, their islands
plundered, their harbors infested by the landing of marauding parties,
and many places threatened with immediate conflagration. Bristol,
near Rhode Island, had been attacked in a dark stormy night, and
120 canon fired on that defenseless town within an hour. Many
houses were injured, and some set on fire. A remarkable sickness
had raged in the town for some time, and the languishing inhabitants
were now hurried into the streets in their beds, to preserve them from
immediate death in the conflagration of their houses. [The Rev. Mr.
Burt, distinguished for his piety, benevolence, and attachment to the
liberties of his country, was found dead in a field the morning after the
conflagration. He had fled from his bed where he was confined by
sickness, to escape the flames that consumed his house.] This was
an uncivil mode of demanding a tax of cattle, sheep, and hogs, for the
supply of the squadron of Captain (afterwards) Sir James Wallace,
who had for many months harassed and distressed the state of
Rhode Island.

This rude attack on Bristol took place only eight days previous to the
wanton desolation which on the eve of winter stripped the inhabitants
of Falmouth, both of shelter and provisions, and drove them naked
into the wilderness, uncertain of any accommodations to secure them
from the inclemency of the season. One Captain Mowatt, who had
recently been a prisoner there and had received the most hospitable
treatment from the inhabitants, was the instrument to execute this
deed of unprovoked barbarity. It is true he notified the town that "he
would give them two hours to remove the human species, at the
period of which term a red pendant would be hoisted at the main top
gallant mast head, and that on the least resistance he should be
freed from all humanity dictated by his orders or his inclination." [This
is an exact copy of Mowatt's letter. See British Remembrancer.]

Three gentlemen repaired on board his ship to inquire the reason of

this extraordinary summons. Mowatt replied that "he had orders to set
on fire all the seaport towns from Boston to Halifax, and that he
supposed New York was already in ashes." He said "he could
dispense with his orders on no terms but the compliance of the
inhabitants to deliver up their arms and ammunition and their sending
on board a supply of provisions, four carriage guns, and the same
number of the principal persons in the town, as hostages, that they
should engage not to unite with their country in any kind of opposition
to Britain." He assured them that on a refusal of these conditions, he
should lay the town in ashes within three hours.

Unprepared for such a attack, and intimidated by the roar of cannon

which began to play on the town, the people supplicated a
suspension until the morning before they replied to the humiliating
proposal. They improved the short reprieve which with difficulty they
obtained in removing their families and effects; after which they made
no further resistance, not even to the marines who landed with lighted
torches to make the devastation complete. In this defenseless
situation, the inhabitants considered opposition only as a useless
waste of human life, and many of them stood on the heights, the
passive spectators of the fire that played on the town through the
day. They beheld with various emotions a conflagration that reduced
many of them to penury and despair. Thus were they prepared for the
occupation of soldiers, and driven to the field from the double motive
of resentment and the necessity of immediate subsistence.

New York, Stonington, Newport, and many other places were

threatened, but did not experience a similar fate. The last, situated on
an island, was obliged to stipulate for a weekly supply to save their
town from the fury of the piratical corsairs that surrounded them, who
proudly boasted to the civility and generosity of their nation. England
has indeed been long celebrated for magnanimity, clemency, and
humanity. But it is with nations as with individuals, when human
nature falls from virtue, it generally sinks into the extremes of vice, in
proportion as it was before conspicuous for superior excellence.

Thus, the monarch divested of compassion, and the ministry of

principle, the naval strength of Britain, the mistress of the seas, and
the terror Europe was employed to interrupt the commerce, lay waste
the cities, destroy the towns, and plunge the inhabitants of America in
misery and despair, forgetful that she was every contributing by the
acquisitions of her industry to the strength of Britain. Nor was
America yet sufficiently irritated to renounce her allegiance to the
King or relinquish her connection with England, cemented by the
strong ties of habit and consanguinity, language, religion, and
manners. Yet, though there was no formal dissolution of the legal
bands that had united them, the frequent outrages experienced by
Americans convinced them of the necessity of some effectual naval
preparations on their part. This was so obvious that Congress no
longer delayed acting with decision on a measure that had been
balanced by various opinions. they directed General Washington to
contract for a number of armed vessels to cruise abroad, to defend
the sea coasts at home, and as far as it was practicable, to capture
British property wherever it might be found.

Many gentlemen, sanguine in opinion that an American navy was no

Utopian project, but that her marine might rapidly rise to a
respectable height, engaged with a energy that seldom fails of
carrying into execution any attempt the human mind, on principles of
reason, is capable of forming. They accordingly built on the large
rivers from Portsmouth to Pennsylvania a number of vessels, row
galleys, and frigates from four to forty guns; and fitted, manned, and
completely equipped them for sea in the course of a few months. All
encouragement was given both to public and private adventurers who
engaged in the sea service. Success was equal to expectation. Many
very valuable prizes, and a vast number of provision vessels from
 England, Ireland, and Nova Scotia were captured, and by this means
the Americans were soon supplied, not only with the necessaries of
war, but with the conveniences and luxuries of life.

While things remained in this situation in Boston and along the Atlantic
shore, a very busy and important scene was acting in another quarter
of America. The conquest of Quebec by the immortal Wolfe, in
conjunction with the bold and hardy New Englanders is a story well
known in the annals of Britain. On the peace concluded with France
at Fontainebleau in the Duke of Bed ford's administration, the whole
province of Canada was ceded to the crown of England, in lieu of
more valuable acquisitions relinquished to France. Most of the
inhabitants of the country were French -- some of them noblesse, and
all of them attached to their former master. The Roman Catholic
faith was the established religion of the country, yet the Canadians
were in all respects to be governed according to the laws of England,
until the Quebec Bill, the subject of much political disunion in
England, passed into an Act in 1774. This act cut the Canadians off
from the privileges of English subjects, denied them an assembly of
their own on principles of the British Constitution,

deprived them of the trial by jury in civil processes. the laws of France
were restored, and the boundaries of the province were extended far
beyond the just limits. The Roman Catholic religion also was not only
to be tolerated, but established by Act of Parliament. This was very
offensive both to the French and the English inhabitants, who found
their interests inseparably connected. These new regulations were
made with a view of fixing the Canadians more firmly in the interest of
the ministry; but as they had tasted the advantages of a less despotic
government, the people in general had adopted more liberal modes
of thinking, both in civil and religious matters; and most of the
inhabitants were equally dissatisfied with the late parliamentary
regulations.

The Quebec Act, unpopular in England and alarming in America, was

particularly disgusting to all the English settlers in Canada, except a
few individuals employed by the Crown. Neither the authority of
administration, nor the address of Governor Carleton was sufficient to
quiet the disorders that arose, or to induce the Canadians in this early
stage of the dispute to take arms to assist in the subjugation of the
other colonies. They murmured loudly at the measures of the British
government. They refused peremptorily to act against the United
Sates, and several of the principal English inhabitants corresponded
with some of the members of Congress and encouraged the
measures that were taken to bring the province of Canada into a
union with the thirteen colonies.

Thus it required no small intrigue to instigate event he savages who

delight in blood to the commission of unprovoked hostilities, which
would interrupt the traffic carried on between them and the frontiers of
the other provinces. It has been justly observed "that the introduction
of barbarians and savages into the contests of civilized nations is a
measure pregnant with shame and mischief, which the interest of a
moment may impel, but which is reprobated by the best principles of
humanity and reason." [Gibbon on the Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire] But these were not the principles on which the American war
was conducted. Congress had authentic information that every
method was used to induce the savages to take up the hatchet
against the Americans. Several conferences had been held the
preceding summer with many of their chiefs assembled at Montreal.
this was in consequence of the machination of Colon Johnson, a
famous Indian partisan in the last war, whose influence among them
was very extensive. In these conferences, he gave each of them a
war belt and a tomahawk; invited them to drink the blood and feast on
the body of a Bostonian, and to sing the war son over a roasted
bullock and a pipe of wine he had prepared for the purpose. But
several of them declined either to eat, drink, or sing the barbarous
song. They afterwards delivered up the black belt with the hatchet
depictured thereon, to some of the American officers. [General
Schuyler's letter, Dec. 14, 1775, published by order of Congress.]
These transactions were considered as incontestable proof that
administration was determined to employ as their allies the fierce and
numerous hordes of the wilderness to subdue and butcher the
Americans, even before they had thrown off their allegiance to the
Crown of Britain. It had also been recently discovered that Governor
Carleton had received a commission authorizing him to muster and
arm all persons residing within the province of Canada and "as
occasion should require, to march and embark the levies to any of the
provinces of America, to pursue and prosecute either by sea or land
all enemies, pirates, or rebels, either in or out of the province; and if it
should so please God, them to vanquish, to take, and so
apprehended, according to law, put them to death or to reserve alive,
at his discretion." [The whole of General Carleton's extraordinary
commission maybe seen in the parliamentary register of November 2,
in the second sessions of the then Parliament.]

A detail of the sufferings of one family will evince the wretched

situation of all in that

province who had the courage to complain of the measures and

administration, or indulged a favorable opinion of the exertions o the
other colonies. The singular mode of bending the minds of men of
liberal opinions to the designs of government was first experimented
on Mr. Walker, an English gentleman of fortune and abilities, who had
been many years a resident at Montreal. His avowed dislike of the
Quebec Bill drew on him the resentment of the officers of government
and involved him in altercation and danger. He had in answer to the
service maxim "Qui le roi, est maitre" repeated by one Rouvelle,
coolly replied that "with regard to Monsieur Rouvelle, it might be so,
as he ate his Majesty's bread"; but added "I deny that the King is my
master: I respect him as my lawful sovereign, and am ready to pay
due obedience to his lawful commands; but I cannot acknowledge
any one as my master while I live by my own industry; when I receive
pay from the King, perhaps my acknowledgments may be equally
submissive." Rouvelle immediately informed General Carleton of this
conversation. His prudence was commended, and he was soon after
appointed one of the judges of the Supreme Court at Montreal. This
appointment was equally astonishing to the French inhabitants, as it
was disgusting to the English. Men of all descriptions had a very ill
opinion of Rouvelle. The recent conversation between him and Mr.
Walker was misrepresented and exaggerated. The partisans of the
Crown and the officers of the army were highly exasperated against
him; and soon after, resentment was carried so far as to attempt the
assassination of Mr. Walker.

A number of soldiers under the command of a Captain Disney entered

his house in the evening when at supper with a few friends. On a
sudden noise at the door of the hall, Mrs. Walker imagined it to be
some Canadians who had been the preceding day on business with
Mr. Walker, as an officer of justice. Without any hesitation, she
pronounced "entrez"; but to her inexpressible surprise, the next
moment she saw through the lasses of the inner door a number of
faces, some of them blacked, others covered with a lizard of crepe,
all rising on the steps, and rushing with precipitation into the room: in
an agony of surprise, she exclaimed, "Good God, this is murder!" Mr.
Walker sat with his back to the door, and before he had time to rise,
he received from one of the ruffians a violent stroke of a broad sword
on his head. He attempted to recover his arms and defend himself,
but wounded in a most cruel manner, he sunk motionless on the floor,
when one of the villains kneeled on his breast and cut off his right ear,
while he so far retained his senses as to hear one of them say, "damn
him, he is dead."

After recovering from his wounds, he commenced a civil process

against Disney and his party. The crime was proved with all its
atrocious aggravations, but justice had not its operation, either in
compensation to the sufferer, or punishment to the guilty. Mr. Walker,
finding himself unsafe in the city, retired to his country house,
determined to amuse himself with his books and his farm, without
farther attention to political or public scenes. But his persecution was
not at an end. He had not long resided in his villa before he was
molested in a still more barbarous manner.
A party of thirty soldiers was sent by Governor Carleton to bring him
dead of alive to Quebec. They surrounded his house just before day
and summoned him to surrender. Instead of a compliance, he
courageously endeavored to defend himself and his family, until the
party without set fire to his house in several places, when he was
obliged to escape the flames by throwing himself from the third story.
In the fall from a window of such a height, one of his legs was broken,
which left him to the mercy of his antagonists, who made him their
prisoner, and conducted him to Quebec, where he was loaded with
irons, denied the use of pen, ink, and paper, and forbidden even the
light of a taper in his darksome cell.

Mrs. Walker, a lady of great elegance and sensibility, had in the terror
of the night leaped from a second story window and walked through
the snow until, exhausted by fear and fatigue, she was overtaken by
one of the party, who had the compassion to throw his cloak over her
and conduct her to a neighboring house. She soon after made her
escape from that part of the country over the lakes, accompanied by
the commissioners Congress had some time before sent on to confer
with and secure the interest of the Canadians. The boat in which she
crossed one of those island seas passed another almost within call
which conveyed her husband a prisoner to Quebec.

It has already been observed that an address had been sent by

Congress to the inhabitants of Canada, couched in nervous, friendly,
and -pathetic terms, reminding them of their common danger, and
urging them to a union with the other colonies in defense of their
common rights. But the mixture of French, British, American, and
savage inhabitants of that country rendered it very uncertain how far
the other colonies might depend on the aid of friendship of the
Canadians. Congress apprised of the situation of affairs there, judged
it prudent to endeavor to engage the people of all descriptions sin
that quarter, more firmly to the interest of the union. It was thought a
favorable crisis for this purpose, when the flower of the British troops
then in America were shut up in Boston; and when the governors of
the southern provinces, interrupted in their negotiations with the
Indians, had taken refuge on board the King's ships, either from real
or imagined personal danger. This was an important business, as
whoever possesses Canada will in a great measure command the
numerous tribes beyond the lakes. A respectable delegation was sent
to Montreal to treat with the white inhabitants, and, as far as possible,
to conciliate or secure the copper-colored nations.

The importance of possessing Canada strongly impressed the minds

at this time of gentlemen of the first penetration. A very respectable
committee was sent by Congress into the country, with Dr. Franklin at
the head of the mission, whose talents as a statesman, perfect
knowledge of the French language, extensive literary acquaintance
with that nation, urbanity of manners, courteous deportment, united
with a prudent reserve, marked him as a suitable character to
negotiate with and endeavor to attach the Canadians of all
descriptions to the American union. Mr. Carrol of Maryland, a
clergyman of the Roman Catholic profession, was sent on with the
delegation to administer the ordinances of religion, baptism,
absolution, etc., which they had been denied for some time by their
clergy under British influence; who, instead of bestowing the
blessings of the church, had denounced their anathemas, to the great
grievance of many tender consciences, and threatened the
vengeance of heaven, as well as earth, on failure of due submission
to parliamentary mandates.

These efforts to engage and fix the Canadians to a certain point failed.
The committee returned with little success. Words and professions
are of little avail when the sword is, or is about to be, lifted for
decision. Congress now found that a force sufficient to strengthen the
hands of their friends in that province was the only mode to be relied
on. In consequence of this necessity, they directed two regiments of
New York militia and a body of New Englanders, consisting in the
whole of about three thousand men, to proceed under the command
of Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, by the Lake Champlain to the
River Sorel, which empties itself into the St. Lawrence, and
immediately attempt the reduction of Quebec. They arrived at the Isle
Noix, which lies at the entrance of that river in the autumn of 1775.

The commander there published a declaration announcing the

reasons of this movement and inviting the inhabitants of every
description to arrange themselves under the banners of liberty, and
unite in the common cause of America. After this, they immediately
pushed on through woods, swamps, and morasses to a fort about 12
miles distance. Here an unexpected attack from a large body of
Indians obliged them to retreat to their former post and wait the arrival
of reinforcements.

On this retreat to the Isle Noix, General Schuyler immediately returned

to Albany. The ostensible reason was the broken state of his health,
which indeed was so impaired as to render him unfit for the fatigue of
such a service. Thus the whole weight

of the war in that quarter was left to the intrepid Montgomery, who,
though qualified by his courage, capacity, and military experience,
was not in force sufficient for so great an undertaking. He, however,
notwithstanding the vigilance of General Carlteton, made himself
master of the forts of Chamblee and St. John's, and with various
other successes arrived at Montreal about the middle of November.
General Carleton had arrived there some time before and had made
every exertion for the preservation of all the posts in the
neighborhood, as well as those above mentioned; but the people
disaffected, and his army weak, his efforts were lasted, and he
thought himself happy to escape the vigilance of Montgomery, who
had placed guards at every post for his interception. He, however, in a
dark night, in an open boat, fortunately passed them all, and arrived
at Quebec in safety.

When General Montgomery arrived at Montreal, the inhabitants, both

French and English, wished to surrender by capitulation. but with a
spirit and dignity consistent with his usual character, he refused this,
though at the same time he gave them the strongest assurances of
justice, security, and personal safety. He pledged his honor for their
peaceable possession of their property, and the free exercise of their
religion: he expressed in liberal terms his disposition to protect the
inhabitants on the same footing with the other American colonies. He
then demanded the possession of the gates and the keys of all the
public stores, and ordered them to be delivered by 9 o'clock the
ensuing morning. Accordingly, the gates were thrown open, and his
troops entered at the appointed hour: thus without the smallest
resistance, he took possession of this important post. He treated
every class of inhabitants with that lenity and politeness which at
once attached them to his person, strengthened their prejudices
against the British government, and cherished the favorable ideas
many had before imbibed, both of the Americans and the cause in
which they were engaged.

When Montgomery had made all proper arrangements for the security
and peace of Montreal, he prepared immediately to go forward and
invest Quebec, then in a week, defenseless condition, their governor
absent, the inhabitants disaffected, and but a handful of troops in the
garrison. When General Carleton left the neighborhood of Montreal,
he made the utmost dispatch to reach and put the capital of Canada
in a proper state of defense; but he found Quebec in the greatest
consternation and danger, from a quarter not apprehended and
scarcely conceived possible -- from the novelty and hazard of the
undertaking.

A detachment of upwards of one thousand men had been marched

from the army near Boston. The command of this little band had been
given to a Colonel Arnold, a young soldier of fortune who held in
equal contempt both danger and principle. They took passage at
Merrimack and arrived at the mouth of the Kennebeck on September
22. There, finding it probable their provisions might fall short where
there could be no possibility of fresh supply, Arnold sent back three
hundred of his men. [These appeared ready to desert with a field
officer at their head if they had not been permitted to return.] Most of
the remainder embarked in bateaux prepared for the purpose -- a
small division of the troops marched slowly and kept the banks of the
river.

They encamped together every night, though frequently interrupted in

their progress by rocks, falls, rapids and carrying places where they
were obliged to carry their boats for several miles together on their
shoulders. With incredible perseverance, they traversed woods,
mountains, swamps, and precipices, and were obliged alternately to
cut their way where no human foot had trodden, to ford shallows, o
attempt the navigation of a rapid stream, with a rocky bottom, which
seemed not designed as a passage for any human being to attempt.
At the same time, their provisions were so reduced that they were
obliged to eat their own dogs and convert their shoe leather into food.

But with astonishing resolution, they surmounted every obstacle, and

near two thirds of the detachment completed a route of several
hundred miles through a hideous wilderness, unexplored before but
by the beasts and savages of the forest. It was at the time thought
that if the historian did justice to the heroic firmness of this little party,
that would be as honorable a testimony of the exertions of human
intrepidity as the celebrated march of the renowned Hannibal: but the
enterprising sprit of America has since taught her sons to tread over a
track of the forlorn desert so much more extensive that this now
appears but an epitome of their hardihood.

Colonel Arnold, with his little army almost exhausted by hunger and
fatigue, reached the Canadian settlements on the third of November.
He was received in a friendly manner, and a liberal supply of
provisions was collected for his relief. By the alacrity of the
inhabitants, he was in a few days furnished with boats to cross the St.
Lawrence, and by favor of the night he effected his passage, in spite
of the vigilance of several frigates that lay in the river. When he sat
down before Quebec, he found all the batteries manned from the
shipping; but having no artillery, he could do little more than parade
before the city and wait the arrival of General Montgomery.

In the mean time, General Carleton was not idle. Every preparation
that courage of vigilance could dictate was made for the reception of
Montgomery. He ordered by proclamation all who refused to take
arms, immediately to quit the city with their wives and children, on
peril of being treated with the utmost severity, as rebels and traitors to
the king. Many of them obeyed and abandoned their residence and
property. The Scotch inhabitants and the French noblesse, he could
at that time firmly rely on. All others, disgusted with the Quebec Act
and alienated by the severity of the governor, were in a temper to
renounce their loyalty and join the Americans. Yet the fear of losing
their property in eh confusion that might ensure if the city was obliged
to change its masters operated on some and caused them to arm,
though with great reluctance. The consideration of pecuniary losses
will always have a powerful influence on the minds of men. Thus, the
zeal which had been nurtured for the defense of liberty soon began to
abate; and both English and Canadians, actuated by the principle of
immediate self-interest, concealed their former defection to the British
government. Many of them were wealthy and opulent, and became
daily more disposed to unite in defense of the town, which contained
more families in opulent circumstances than all the province besides.

After placing a garrison in Montreal, new clothing his troops and

stationing some small detachments in the outposts in the
neighborhood, General Montgomery sent a few troops to different
parts of the province to expedite farther supplies of provisions,
clothing, and other necessaries. He then pushed on his march
beneath the fall of snows, embarrassed with bad roads, a severe
winter, an inhospitable climate, and the murmur of his little army. The
term of their enlistment was nearly expired. Nothing kept them
together but their attachment to their commander, and that zeal in the
public cause which had already prompted them to encounter perils
and endure hardships which the human constitution seems not
calculated to surmount, after being softened by the habits of civilized
life. But by the address of the commander and the resolution of the
troops, they with incredible expedition arrived at Quebec,
notwithstanding the impediments that lay in their way.

The soldiers in garrison, with the marines from the King's frigates, that
had been placed therein, and the armed militia, both French and
English, did not amount to more than 2000 men when the army
arrived from Montreal. But by the intrepidity of general Carleton and
the activity of his officers, they had prepared for defense with the sprit
of veterans. They rejected with disdain a summons from Montgomery
to surrender the town, to prevent the fatal consequences of its being
taken by storm; fired on the flag that offered to convey letters with
proposals for capitulation, obliged it to retire, and all communication
was forbidden by the inflexible Carleton.

General Montgomery after this sent a second letter [See General

Montgomery's letter, December 6, 1775, Note 15 at the end of this
chapter.] by Colonel Arnold and Mr. MacPherson, his aide-de-camp,
to General Carleton. He upbraided him with personal ill-treatment,
with the cruelty exercised towards the prisoners that had fallen into
his hands, and with the unparalleled conduct, except among savages,
of firing at a flag of truce. He warned him not to destroy either public
or private stores, as he had done at Montreal, and kept up a tone of
superiority as if sure of success. The messengers reached the walls
of Quebec, but were ordered to decamp with speed, and informed
that the Governor would receive no letters or hold any intercourse
with rebels.

Thus circumstanced, General Montgomery judged that immediate and

decided action was the only means of serving his country, and
securing to himself that renown which the luster of his former conduct
had acquired. Thus, depending too much on his own good fortune,
and too little acquainted with the arrangement and vigor within the
walls, he resolved on the dangerous and desperate measure of an
effort to take the city by escalade. He made his dispositions
accordingly, and under the cover of a violent snow storm, he army, in
four separate divisions, began the arduous work at the same
moment, early on the morning of December 31.

But the enemy had gained intelligence of his movements, the alarm
had been given, and a signal made for the general engagement in the
lower town, some time before Montgomery had reached it. He,
however, pushed on through a narrow passage with a hanging rock
on the one side and a dangerous precipice on the banks of the river
on the other, and with a resolution becoming his character, he gained
the first barrier. Warmed with the spirit of magnanimity and a thirst for
glory, the inseparable companions of exalted minds, he met
undaunted the fire of his enemies and accompanied by some of his
bravest officers, he rushed on to attack a well-defended barricade.
But to the regret of the army, the grief of his country, and the
inexpressible sorrow of his numerous friends, the valiant
Montgomery, with the laurels fresh blooming on his brow, fell at the
gates by a random shot from the frozen walls of Quebec.

Connected with one of the first families in New York, [He married a
daughter of Judge Livingston.] happy in the highest enjoyment of
domestic felicity, he was led by principle to quit the occupations of
rural life; and animated with an ardent zeal for the cause of human
nature, the liberties of mankind, and the glory of America, both his
active life, and his heroic death verified his last expression to his
amiable lady - - "You shall never blush for your Montgomery." [The
writer of these annals had the particular of his last adieu in a letter
from his lady immediately after his death.]

His philosophic taste, his pleasing manners, his private virtues, and
his military abilities were acknowledged and revered even by his
enemies, who cannot but pronounce the Canadian fields are marked
with peculiar glory. It is there the choicest flowers of fame may be
culled to crown the memory of a Wolfe and a Montgomery. Yet, while
one of those illustrious names, written in characters of blood, reflects
luster on the glory of a British monarch, the other will announce to
posterity the efforts of virtue to resist the tyranny of his successor.

General Montgomery was justly considered as an early martyr in the

cause of freedom, and the premature stroke that robbed his country
of an officer of tried bravery and decided merit, was not only bewailed
by his friends, but excited the tear of generous compassion from all
those who were susceptible of the nobler feelings of the soul, among
such as were opposed to him in political opinion. The animosities of
war, and the enmities created by different sentiments or rivalry in
fame, should ever expire with the life of a hero. Yet the obsequies of
this great and amiable man were not attended with those honorary
marks of respect usually paid to illustrious military characters when
victory has satiated resentment. His body was thrown into a sledge
and, without even a coffin, conveyed to the place of burial. The
manner of General Montgomery's interment was at first reported much
more to the honor of General Carleton, but the above account is from
the testimony of several respectable American officers then in
Quebec. [Particularly Captain, afterwards General, Dearborn, taken
prisoner at the attempt on the second barrier.] By the persuasion of a
lady who afterwards married the Lieutenant Governor of Quebec,
who had formerly served in the British army with General
Montgomery, the body of this worthy officer was taken up and again
interred in a rough coffin, but without any particular marks of respect.
The other officers who fell were indiscriminately thrown with their
clothes on into the same grave with their soldiers.

The death of General Montgomery decided the fate of the day, though
Colonel Arnold and his party with great bravery kept up the attack.
Nor did they quit the field until after Arnold was obliged to retire,
having received a dangerous wound. Notwithstanding this accident,
added to the unspeakable loss of their brave commander, this small
resolute party kept their ground, until galled on every side, attacked in
the rear, and their retreat cut off by a British party who found means
to secure a passage that prevented even the attempt, yet they kept
up an obstinate defense for several hours, but at last were obliged to
surrender themselves prisoners of war. [Most of the American officers
distinguished themselves by their intrepidity and vigilance on this
fated day; but none more than Captain Morgan, who seemed to be
adapted by nature, by his strength of body, vigor of mind, and
unconquerable resolution, for the severe conflicts of war. This was
afterwards exemplified in the many renounters he met in the ravage
of the Carolinas.]

Though the manes of their commander in chief had not been treated
with that generosity which is usually the result of true magnanimity,
yet General Carleton treated the prisoners that afterwards fell into his
hands with more humanity. Their wounds were dressed, their wants
relieved, and his own physicians sent to visit the sick. He also
endeavored to recall those who, after the defeat, had taken shelter in
the woods, or such as had been left sick or wounded on the way,
after the retreat; and by proclamation, he promised liberty to all t he
unhappy stragglers when they should be cured of their wounds and
diseases.

After the death of Montgomery, the retreat of Arnold, and a surrender

of a considerable part of his troops, the broken forces collected and
retired about three miles from the city. There they kept up a kind of
blockage through the winder; and by the spirit of Arnold, on whom the
command had devolved, and the vigilance of his party, they
prevented in a great measure, additional recruits and supplies for the
relief of the city. This there was every reason to expect would be
attempted, not only from the difficulties of their situation within the
city, but from the fickleness of the Canadians without and their
manifest disposition to enlist under the banners of success. From
their local circumstances, this change of temper might from the
beginning have been apprehended, for those pretended allies of the
United States. Their neighborhood and the connection with the
savages, their long habit of oscillating between England and France,
and their ignorance in general of the grounds of the dispute must
naturally render their fidelity to the states under the jurisdiction of
Congress very uncertain.
But we leave the lakes, the wilderness, the savages, and their
employers in that quarter for the present, to observe for a time the
interesting movements on the borders of the Atlantic, and the
disposition discovered by the ancient parent of the colonies which
soon produced consequences of the highest moment. It may,
however be proper to observe here that General Arnold extricated
himself in a remarkable manner from his embarrassments in this
quarter and lived to be conspicuously distinguished through the
American war for his bravery and address, his activity, and his villainy.

*********************

Note 15

Copy of General Montgomery's last letter to General Carleton.

"Holland House, December 6, 1775

"Sir,

"Notwithstanding the personal ill treatment I have received at your

hands, notwithstanding the cruelty you have shown to the unhappy
prisoners you have taken, the feelings of humanity induce me to have
recourse to this expedient, to save you from the destruction which
hangs over your wretched garrison. Give me leave to inform you that
I am well acquainted with your situation; a great extent of works, in
their nature incapable of defense, manned with a motley crew of
sailors, most of them our friends an citizens, who wish to see us
within their walls, -- a few of the worst troops that call themselves
soldiers, -- the impossibility of relief, and the certain prospect of
wanting every necessary of life, should you opponents confine their
operations to a single blockade -- point out the absurdity of
resistance; such is your situation.
I am at the head of troops accustomed to success, confident of the
righteous cause they are engaged in, inured to danger and fatigue,
and so highly incensed at your inhumanity, illiberal abuse, and the
ungenerous means employed to prejudice them in the minds of the
Canadians, that it is with difficulty I restrain them till my batteries are
ready, from insulting your works, which would afford them the fair
opportunity of ample vengeance and just retaliation. Firing upon a
flag of truce, hitherto unprecedented, even among savages, prevents
my following the ordinary mode of conveying my sentiments; however
I will at any rate acquit my conscience. Should you perish in an
unwarrantable defense, the consequence be upon your own head.
Beware of destroying stores of any fort, public or private, as you did at
Montreal or in the rive. If you do, by heavens, there will be no mercy
shown."

_______________________

Chapter Eight: Dissensions in the British Parliament. Petition of

Governor Penn rejected. Boston evacuated. Sir Henry Clinton sent to
the southward., followed by General Lee. His character. Sir Peter
Parker's attack on Sullivan's Island. General Howe's Arrival at Sandy
Hook. General Washington leaves Cambridge. Observations on the
temper of some of the colonies.

While as above related, a busy and important scene was exhibited at

the northward, the southern colonies were parrying the
embarrassments created by the royal governors, some of whom had
recently left America. The people were gradually laying aside the
prejudices which mankind generally imbibe for old established
governments and were preparing themselves for new modes, if
necessity should impel, whenever the delegates with whom they had
entrusted their rights should judge affairs fully ripened for a
declaration of independence and a final separation from Britain. The
American Congress was yet waiting the result of their late petition to
the throne, with a degree of temper and moderation scarcely
paralleled among men possessing the unlimited confidence of their
country on the one side and on the other irritated by the neglect and
contempt of their oppressors and the rude insults of ministerial
menace.

Thus suspended on the wing of expectation or rather an unfounded

and fruitless hope, everything remained quiet at headquarters
through the winter of 1776. No attempt was made against Boston by
the American army, nor did General Howe show any disposition to
sally from the town and interrupt the tranquility of the camp. In short,
the British army, engrossed by the pleasures of the town and the
exhibition of farces composed by one of their general officers
[General Burgoyne, whose genius for these literary products was
afterwards displayed more to his honor.], became so inactive and
appeared so inoffensive that the Americans (little less disposed to
indulge in the pleasures of peace) enjoyed at Cambridge the
conviviality of the season. The ladies of the principal American
officers repaired to the camp. Harmony and hospitality, united with
that simplicity which had hitherto been characteristic of the domestic
taste, style, and manners of the most respectable Americans, reigned
among them for several months, without the smallest interruption.
Civility and mutual forbearance appeared between the officers of the
royal and continental armies, and a frequent interchange of flags was
indulged for the gratification of the different partisans.

But notwithstanding the reluctance to action observable in two

powerful and contiguous armies, the wheels of revolution were rolling
on in swift progression. The approach of spring lowered the fate of
empire, the birth of nations, and the painful convulsions experienced
by every state, struggling to retrieve and permanently secure the
rights of nature, seized or curtailed by the strong hand of power.

Through the last ten years the British ministry had been repeatedly
changed, and though none of them, except the Duck of Grafton and
the Marquis of Rockingham [The Marquis of Rockingham was
through his whole life uniformly opposed to the American war.], who
had figured at the head of administration, had shown any disposition
to do justice to America, yet the counsels of cabinet had been kept in
continual fluctuation. From the retirement of Lord Bute in 1756, there
had been an extraordinary variety and succession of characters in the
colonial department. The Lords Grenville, Rockingham, North,
Hillsborough, and Dartmouth had alternately taken the lead in this
thorny path. Several others had labored in the road for a time and
retired equally successless and chagrined, particularly the Duke of
Grafton. [The Duke of Grafton was very explicit with his Majesty in his
reasons for resignation.]

From the religious deportment of Lord Dartmouth, he had secured the

partiality of a party; but it soon appeared from the inefficacy of his
measures and the want of stability in his conduct that he was a very
unfit person for a place that required deeper intrigue, more energy,
and stronger abilities than he possessed. Tired of the burden himself,
and his employers weary of his administration, he resigned his office
in the summer of 1775.

On his resignation, Lord George Germaine, "the hero of the Minden,"

entered a field which did not brighten his laurels, though he engaged
with a boldness and temerity of spirit that he had not on all occasions
discovered. Zealous for the honor of his sovereign, the interest and
superiority of his nation, the dignity and supremacy of Parliament, he
undertook the conduct of the American war, the subjugation of the
colonies, with a temper and resolution more sanguine than discreet.
Early in his administration and through the whole course of this
eventful year, proposals for an accommodation with the colonies were
offered from various quarters; but conciliation with America had no
place in the system of the new minister.

The first bill that appeared for this purpose was from the hand of Lord
Chatham, whose energetic abilities and dignified policy, had recently
rescued the empire from ruin. But not even the talents of a man who
had been courted by his sovereign, admired by his enemies, and
adored by the nation had any influence on a ministry deaf to
everything but an American revenue and the supremacy of
Parliament. After the failure of the efforts of this distinguished
statesman, Burke, Franklin, Fothergill, Hartley, and others anxious to
prevent the wanton waste of human blood brought forward their
proposals to procure a reconciliation with the colonies, either on the
terms of equity or partial concession. They supported with the most
interesting pathos and with great strength of argument. But neither
the persuasive eloquence of the orator []Edmund Burke], the
reasoning powers or conclusive arguments of the philosopher [Dr.
Franklin], nor the mild simplicity and humane interference of the
upright Quaker [Dr. Fothergill ... All well known in the literary world.],
were listened to with the smallest attention by a predetermined
administration, sanctioned by the approbation of royalty. Every
suggestion that wore any appearance of lenity or reunion with the
colonies was rejected on the principle of the supremacy of
Parliament. Tenacious of their power and the right to alter or resume
at pleasure all colonial charters and to regulate and tax as consistent
with the convenience of the parent state, the late petition from
Congress met the usual neglect that had been shown to every former
application.

Before it was totally rejected, the Duke of Richmond suggested the

propriety of questioning Governor Penn, who presented the petition,
relative to the strength, the resources, the disposition, and the
designs of America. Mr. Penn was a gentleman whose talents were
equal to the business he was sent to negotiate. When called on the
floor of the House of Commons for examination, he gave a clear and
decided statement of the situation ad the views, the expectations, the
wishes, and the final determination of his countrymen, if they failed in
their present attempt to be heard by their Sovereign. [When the
petition was presented by Mr. Penn and Arthur Lee, Esquire, they
were told by the minister that no notice would be taken of it.] But it
was immediately asserted that Congress was an illegal body, that no
parley could be held with rebels, that while the Americans in hostile
array were preparing armies for opposition to parliamentary authority,
it was beneath the dignity of the supreme legislative to hold treaties
with men who denied their supremacy; that coercion alone was the
proper line of action for the nation; and that it was necessary this
system should be pushed with redoubled vigor. Consequently, after
much debate, it was agreed in the House that foreign auxiliaries
should be hired at an immense expense to assist in the complete
subjugation of the colonies. A treaty with the Langrave of Hesse and a
price for payment for the loan of his slaves was voted, and several
other similar steps adopted to facilitate the designs against America.

These measures appeared to many in the House replete with

absurdity, particularly the calling in of foreign mercenaries to assist in
a work that discovered little liberality, less humanity, and no wise
policy. It was observed that no language or act could justify the
authors or supporters of this project. It was replied "that foreign troops
inspired with military maxims and ideas of implicit obedience would be
less liable to be biased by the false lenity which national soldiers
might indulge at the the expense of national interest." [British Annual
Register] This was an unusual and bold assertion to be made in a
British House of Commons and seemed tinctured with a spirit of
despotism that had not always been characteristic of Englishmen; and
indeed now, the minority in opposition to this and several other high-
handed measures was too respectable to be frowned into
insignificance, even by the disapprobation of kings. [See Note 16 at
the end of this chapter.]

The noble names of Rockingham, Scarborough, Abingdon, Effingham,

and Ponsonby; the Dukes of Manchester, Devonshire, Richmond,
and Grafton, with many others of equal rank and consideration,
appeared on the protests against the sanguine, summary, and
dangerous proceedings of Parliament. Their opinions were supported
even by some of the royal family: the efforts of the Duke of
Cumberland were strenuous. He reprobated in the most explicit terms
the whole American system. He lamented in pathetic language the
employing of foreigners. He observed that he much regretted "that
Brunswickers. who once to their honor had been employed in
defense of the liberties of the subject, should now be sent to
subjugate a distant part of the British Empire." [See the speech of his
Royal Highness at large in the British Annual Register.]

But in spite of protests, arguments, reason, or humanity, the

Parliament of Britain proceeded, as expressed in the dissent of the
Lords, to "a refinement in tyranny." Towards the close of the year,
they interdicted all trade with America, declared the colonies out of
the royal protection, licensed the seizure of their property on the high
seas, and by an act of Parliament gave the forfeiture of the captors,
and directed an indiscriminate compulsion of all persons taken on
board any American vessel to serve as common sailors in His
Majesty's navy.

This mode of procedure was opposed and criminated with all the
powers of language by some members of the first consequence in the
House of Commons. They pronounced it the last degree of
wretchedness and indignity to which human nature could be
subjugated. They observed that "this was an instance of tyranny
worse than death, thus to compel the unfortunate captives who might
fall into their hands, after being plundered themselves, to assist their
enemies in plundering their brethren." They asserted "that such
modes of severity were without example, except among pirates,
outlaws, and the common enemies of civil society." Yet,
notwithstanding these sensible remonstrances, there were some of
the most distinguished characters in England, so heated by party
spirit, national pride, and the high claims of parliamentary dignity and
superiority as shamelessly to avow the necessity of leaping over the
boundaries of equity and winking out of sight the immutable laws of
justice. It is painful to record, as an evidence of this assertion, a single
instance that must cause a blush for the weakness or wickedness of
man. Even the great Lord Mansfield, whose superior talents,
profound erudition, law knowledge, and philosophical abilities should
have elevated him above all local and party prejudices, declared
publicly "that the original question of right ought "no longer to be
considered; that the justice of the cause must give way to the present
situation; that they were engaged in a war, and must use every effort
to obtain the end proposed thereby." [Debates in Parliament and Lord
Mansfield's speech in the House of Lords, December 1775.] If the
politician can justify this sophistical reasoning, the dictates of justice
must lead the upright to revolt at the idea: a declaration so devoid of
the principles of rectitude, from a man of his lordship's celebrity, at
once shocks the feelings of equity and wounds the sensations of
humanity.

The passions of some were irritated by this extraordinary speech of

Lord Mansfield, and the judgment of others convinced that America
had nothing to expect either from the justice or clemency of
Parliament, under the influence of men of such abilities and
principles. Yet still the chimerical project of conquest and subjugation

continued to be uniformly opposed by the dissenting Lords in one

house and a melioration of the American system urged in the other,
on the strongest grounds of reason, justice, policy, and humanity. But
a ministerial majority was astonishingly kept up in both, and on a
division on every question relative to the colonies, the minority bore
no proportion to the names in the other scale.

A war with America did not at this period appear to be the general
wish of the nation at large; but engaged in their own pleasures and
pursuits, they seemed rather inattentive to the object in dispute, as a
matter that very little concerned them. There was indeed some
clamor among the great body of the merchants on the total
destruction of the American trade, and some of the manufacturing
towns were disposed to be riotous on the occasion. But the danger
of a foreign war or a final dismemberment of the Empire was not
generally apprehended by the people, though these consequences
were predicted by some sagacious heads, and the hearts of the
patriotic and compassionate were hurt by the anticipation of the
impending evils.

Calling in the aid of foreigners, and introducing a large body of

German mercenaries in British pay to settle a domestic quarrel with
the colonies was mortifying to the pride and valor of every
uncorrupted Englishman. But the torrent of secret influence was
irresistible; the expensive system was precipitated: prerogative and
conquest was the ministerial creed; power the princely object: and on
the approbatory speech of the monarch, when all was at hazard,
there appeared a coolness that bordered on apathy. Silence and
submission were enjoined on the friends of America in the House of
Commons; and the liberty of writing their names and witnessing their
uneasiness by their own signature was all the consolation of the
protesting lords, while these important questions were in agitation.
[On the prohibitory, the Restraining Act, the interdiction of trade, and
all other coercive bills, the usual rate of voices in favor to them was
from 120 to 150 -- the number of the minority seldom more than 30 or
40. When they amounted to 40, it was thought a considerable
acquisition.]

The debates in Parliament relative to colonial measures, the King's

speech, and the rejection of the late petition of the Continental
Congress arrived in America before the month of March, 1776. These
were accompanied with the intelligence of the Hessian Treaty, and
that foreign auxiliaries from various other nations were to be
employed in the compulsory system, and that the barbarous strangers
were to assist in the entire subjugation of the colonies, if not
otherwise reduced to unworthy submission.

On this information, the indignation of all ranks can scarcely be

described. The King's speech was condemned and ordered to be
burnt in the center of the camp at Cambridge. The wavering were
resolved, the timid grew bold, the placid and philosophic lovers of
peace left the retired haunts of literary felicity; and beneath the
helmet and the buckler courted the post of danger: vigorous action
was now the only line of conduct to be observed through every
department. Previous to any other movement, it was judged important
that the British forces should be immediately removed from their
stronghold in the town of Boston, lest the work should be rendered
more difficult on the arrival of fresh troops from Great Britain, now
daily expected.

General Washington, sensible of this necessity, and that no more time

was to be lost, opened a severe cannonade on the western side, not
far distant from the town, on the evening of March 4. This was
designed rather to divert attention within the walls than for any
important consequences expected from this maneuver without. The
Americans kept up a constant fire through the night, while several
smaller works were erected for the annoyance of the besieged. but
the principal effect was expected from the heights of Dorchester. By
the greatest industry and dispatch, a strong battery, very
unexpectedly to the enemy, appeared there on the morning of the
fifth, from whence the Americans played their artillery with ease on the
town. The assailants, under the direction of General Thomas, erected
and extended their works in such a judicious manner as to command
the peninsula leading to Boston, Castle William, and at the same time
a considerable part of the harbor.

General Howe, mortified that such an advantageous post should have

been so long neglected by himself, and astonished at the appearance
of such strong and defensible works rising as it were in a night
without noise or alarm in that quarter, did not long hesitate on the part
necessary for him to act in this critical conjuncture. There remained
no alternative between a bold and vigorous attempt to dislodge the
Americans or an immediate evacuation of the town. To fly on the first
appearance of danger was humiliating to the pride of the soldier,
lessening his military honor and sinking the dignity of the commander
in chief.

A choice of difficulties lay before him. He was short of provisions. The

soldiers had become discontented with the service and fatigued with
continual watching. An immediate retreat might appear to him less
disgraceful than the consequences of resistance under many
apparent disadvantages. On the other hand, chagrined at the idea of
drawing off seven or eight thousand of the best troops the King his
master had in service, without striking a blow, and relinquishing the
only American town they then had in possession to the undisciplined
peasantry of the country, was still a more humiliating thought. From
these considerations, he made all possible preparation to dislodge
the American troops the evening after they were discovered on the
heights of Dorchester. But the intervention of the elements
disconcerted his operations: a tremendous storm of wind and rain
prevented the dangerous enterprise, and saved

the expense of much blood.

General Howe finding his design impracticable, in consequence of this

disappointment, ordered an embarkation to begin as soon as the
tempest should subside. But embarrassed by a crowd of refugees
and other delinquents, who, conscious they could not rely on their
country for safety, had thrown themselves on his protection;
encumbered with women, children, furniture, soldiers, officers, and
camp equipage; the inconveniences and dangers of a voyage at the
equinoctial season; the sterility of the country [General Howe went
from Boston to Halifax, Nova Scotia.] and the coldness of the clime to
which he must repair, with a discontented army and a group of
miserable, disappointed Tories, rendered the situation of the British
commander in chief truly pitiable. To add to the confusion of the
scene, the strictest harmony did not exist between the officers of the
army and navy. This increased the difficulty of accommodation on this
unexpected emergency, when so many

useless persons claimed protection and subsistence.

When the Americans saw the British troops about to depart, they did
not offer to impede their design in the smallest degree. The
cannonade was suspended, and they beheld with an eye of
compassion the extraordinary emigration of some hundreds of
disaffected Americans, whom they suffered to depart with the
successless army, without a wish to retard their flight. These
unhappy people took with them such of their effects as the hurry of
the occasion and their military masters would permit. General
Washington, with a few troops, entered Boston, with the ensigns of
triumph displayed, and beheld the rear of the panic-struck army of
Britain, precipitately flying from a town that had long been the object
of ministerial vengeance.

The bloodless victory on the one side, and the disgraceful flight on the
other, was viewed with pleasure and surprise, or with astonishment
and grief, in proportion to the political hopes and fears that agitated
the various parties, who all considered the transactions of the day
replete with important consequences. Every mark of respect was
externally shown to General Washington, even by those who were not
well affected to the cause in which he was engaged. Many of this
class, more culpable than some who went off with the British army,
chose to stay and cast themselves at the mercy of their countrymen,
rather than to hazard the danger of a voyage, the loss of property,
and a separation from their families.

Some, much less criminal than these, and many really inoffensive
persons, suddenly struck with imaginary fears, abandoned their
habitations and their country, which by a little address they might
quietly have possessed. Several very doubtful characters not only
acted with decent civility and condescension, but confidently
assumed merit to themselves as friends of the revolution: some of
these were afterwards promoted to places and offices of high trust.
Indeed the loyalists in general who stayed in Boston and chose to run
all hazards rather than quit their native country, experienced much
clemency from the opposite party; yet, perhaps not in the full latitude
that policy might have dictated: but the impressions of danger and
insult to which the victors had long been exposed operated more
powerfully in the minds of many than the laws of forgiveness or the
distant view of political consequences.

Thus a kind o inquisitorial court was erected in Boston, and some

persons more warm than discreet and more zealous than judicious,
were appointed to decide on the criminality of state delinquents,
several of whom were adjudge to punishments rather ridiculous than
severe. This step tended only to strengthen the alienation of those
who had either from interest, treachery, timidity, or a passion for the
splendor of monarchy, enlisted under the banners of royalty, without
any fixed principles in religion or politics. Had the new government at
this period passed an act of indemnity and oblivion and proclaimed
pardon to all who had incurred the public resentment, excepting a few
who had notoriously deserved proscription, it is probable many would
have returned to the bosom of their country and become faithful
subjects to the United States, when they could have done it without
the imputation of being rebels to their sovereign. This consideration
before the Declaration of Independence had a conscientious
influence on the minds of some who disapproved of the ministerial
encroachments, yet scrupled the right of resistance while the legal
subjects of the British Crown; but the line of separation soon after
drown, the doubts of many well-disposed persons were entirely
dissipated.

After the evacuation of Boston, the succession of important events

was too rapid for the mind to dwell long on single incidents. It
remained for some time uncertain where the British army and navy
would next direct their operations. Though they sailed immediately
for Halifax, it was only to disembark their useless hands and secure a
rendezvous until fresh reinforcement should arrive from England.

The situation of the southern colonies at this time commanded the

attention of every well-wisher to the American cause. Some time
before the British troops left Boston, General Clinton had been sent
southward to the assistance of Governor Martin and Lord William
Campbell. We have seen that before they left their governments,
they had instigated a number of the back settlers in the Carolinas to
create disturbances. These people, formerly aggrieved by their own
government, had styled themselves Regulators, had embodied for
opposition, had resisted authority, and had suffered severely. They
were now persuaded that the same persons who had some years
before oppressed them were at this time in rebellion against their
sovereign. This opinion was strengthened by Governor Martin, who
kept up a correspondence with their leaders and invited them to
repair to the royal standard at Brunswick, where they should be
supported by a large body of the King's troops.

Though, as observed, these people had been compelled to

submission and had remained quiet a number of years, yet their old
antipathies were not obliterated. Ignorant of the causes of the general
uneasiness of the colonies and mistaken in character, they united
under the very men who had formerly exercised every severity
against them and their leaders. [Particularly a Colonel Fanning, a
violent partisan of the Crown, who had been in the former insurrection
the executioner of most of their principal leaders, without even the
form of a trial.] These were joined by the Highlanders, who had
migrated in shoals after the rebellion in Scotland, in 1745. They had
suffered too much not to dread a second opposition to the authority of
the King of England. These descriptions of men were for a time very
troublesome on the southern borders, more particularly of North
Carolina; but by the spirit and activity of some continental troops
under the command of Brigadier General More, the whole party was
defeated. Their commanding officer Macdonald and most of the other
officers imprisoned, the unhappy remnant who escaped
imprisonment or death retreated to the woods; and all hope or fear
from this quarter was extinguished before the arrival of Sir Henry
Clinton at Cape Fear.

As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that General Clinton had

left Boston, General Lee was ordered to set forward to observe his
maneuvers and prepare to meet him with advantage in any part of the
continent he might think proper to visit. No man was better qualified
at this early stage of the war to penetrate the designs or to face in the
field an experienced British veteran than General Lee. He had been
an officer of character and rank in the late war between England and
France. [HE had served with reputation in Portugal, under the
command of Count de la Lippe.] Fearless of danger, fond of glory, he
was calculated for the field, without any of the graces that
recommend the soldier to the circles of the polite. He was plain in his
person even to ugliness, and careless in his manners to a degree of
rudeness. He possessed a bold genius and an unconquerable spirit:
his voice was rough, his garb ordinary, his deportment morose. A
considerable traveler, and well acquainted with most of the European
nations, he was frequently agreeable in narration and judicious and
entertaining in observation. Disgusted with the ministerial system,
and more so with his Sovereign who authorized it, he cherished the
American cause from motives of resentment, and a predilection in
favor of freedom, more than from a just sense of the rights of
mankind.

Without religion or country, principle or attachment, gold was his deity,

and liberty the idol of his fancy. He hoarded the former without taste
for its enjoyment, and worshipped the latter as the patroness of
licentiousness, rather than the protectress of virtue. He affected to
despise the opinion of the world, yet was fond of applause. Ambitious
of fame, without the dignity to support it, he emulated the heroes of
antiquity in the field, while in private life he sunk into the vulgarity of
the clown. Congress did wisely to avail themselves of his military
experience in the infancy of a confederated army, and still more
wisely in placing him in a degree of subordination. He was on the first
list of continental officers, and only the Generals Washington and
Ward were named before him; but though nominally the third in rank,
as a soldier he was second to no man. The abilities of General Ward
were better adapted to the more quiet disquisitions of the cabinet
than on the hostile and dangerous scenes of the field or the camp,
both of which he soon left and retired to private life, wherein nothing
remained to prevent this singular stranger from taking the command
of the armies of the United States but the life of Washington.

General Lee with his detachment from Cambridge reached New York
and put it in a state of defense before Sir Henry Clinton arrived there,
though he had sailed from Boston several days previous to its being
known at Cambridge. While at New York, Lee drew up a list of
suspected persons and disarmed them. He carried his military
authority so high that the Congress of that state thought proper to
check his career. They informed him that the trial and punishment of
their citizens belonged to themselves and not to any military
character. He apologized by observing that "when the enemy were at
the door, forms must be dispensed with; that his duty to them, to the
continent, and to his conscience dictated the measure; that if he had
done wrong, he would submit himself to the shame of being imputed
rash; but that he should still have the consolation in his own breast
that pure motives of serving the community, uncontaminated by
individual resentment, had urged him to those steps."

The movements of General Lee were so rapid that, to the surprise of

Sir Henry Clinton, he was in Virginia before him. But as the object of
the British armament was still farther south, Lee, with uncommon
celerity, traversed the continent, met General Clinton in North
Carolina, and was again ready for the defense of Sullivan's Island,
near Charleston in South Carolina, before the arrival of the British
troops under the command of General Clinton.

Sir Peter Parker had appeared off Cape Fear in the month of May,
1776, with a considerable squadron of line-of-battle ships, and a
number of transports containing several regiments of land forces, and
a heavy train of artillery. A body of troops commanded by Lord
Cornwallis and General Vaughan were soon after landed on Long
Island: the design was to unite with General Clinton and reduce
Charleston, the rich capital of South Carolina. This state had thrown
off their allegiance, assumed a government of their own, and chosen
John Rutledge, Esquire, their chief magistrate, under the style and
title of President.

Notwithstanding the parade of immediate attack, near a month

elapsed in total inaction before the assault on Sullivan's Island was
begun by the British naval commander. In the mean time, the
Americans were strongly posted there. The engagement took place
on June 29, and was conducted with great spirit and bravery on both
sides. The highest encomiums are justly due to the valor and
intrepidity of the British officers and seamen; and notwithstanding the
courage and ability of General Gadsden, the vigor, activity, and
bravery of General Moultrie, and the experience and military
knowledge of General Lee, it is probable the action would have
terminated more to the honor of the British navy, had they been
properly supported by the land forces.

It remains yet to be investigated why no attempt was made by the

troops on Long Island to cause a diversion on the other side, which
would doubtless have altered the whole face of the action. But
whether from a series of unexpected resistance, their imaginations
had become habituated to view everything through the medium of
danger, or whether from a degree of caution that sometimes betrays
the brave into the appearance of timidity, or from any jealousies
subsisting between the commandeers is uncertain. However, this
neglect occasioned loud complaints among the officers of the navy;
nor was it easy for Lord Cornwallis and General Clinton, though high
on the rolls of military fame, to wipe off the aspersions thrown on their
conduct. Even their apologies for their own inactivity, instead of
exculpating themselves, were rather a testimony of the skill, ability,
;and vigor of their antagonists, who, in so short a time, were prepared
to bid defiance to the combined force of Britain, though commanded
by sea and land, by officers of acknowledged merit in the line of their
profession.

Many brave officers of the navy fought with valor and spirit that would
have been truly glorious in a more honorable cause. One instance of
this, among many others of the unfortunate who fell on the occasion,
was the valiant and spirited Captain Morris of the Bristol. He lost an
arm by a ball in the beginning of the engagement, and while retired to
dress his wounds, two of his surgeons were killed by his side before
they had finished the operation. On this, the captain, with his usual
intrepidity, resumed his command. When he immediately received a
shot through the body and had time only to observe before he expired
that "he consigned his family to God and his country." After an
obstinate engagement of ten or twelve hours, the sailors
disheartened, and their officers wounded [Lord William Campbell,
governor of South Carolina, who had taken refuge on board one of
the king's ships, was mortally wounded in the attack on Fort
Moultrie.], the shattered fleet with difficulty retired to the distance of
three or four miles from the fort, and in a few days put themselves in
a condition to withdraw to the general rendezvous before New York.

The triumph of the Americans in this success, who had always justly
dreaded the naval power of Britain, was in equal proportion to the
chagrin of their enemies, thus repulsed in a quarter where, from the
locality of circumstances, they least expected it. The

multitude of manumitted slaves, and the aristocratic spirit of many of

the principal planters had flattered them with the idea that in the
southern colonies they should meet but a feeble resistance. Lord
Dummore, who had joined in the expedition, continued several weeks
after the repulse, to cruise about the borders of Virginia and the
Carolinas, with his little fleet of fugitives and slaves. But, as the mid-
summer heats increased, a pestilential fever raged on board, which
carried off many of the refugees, and swept away most of the
miserable negroes he had decoyed from their masters. Forbidden
admittance wherever he attempted to land, and suffering for
provisions, he burnt several of his vessels. The remainder, except
one in which he sheltered himself and family, and two other ships of
war for his protection, he sent laden with the wretched victims of his
folly and cruelty, to seek some kind of subsistence in the Floridas,
Bermudas, and the West Indies.
Lord Howe had been long expected with his motley mercenaries from
Hesse, Hanover, and Brunswick. His brother Sir William, after a
disagreeable residence of two or three months at Halifax, did not
think proper to wait longer there the arrival of his lordship. Miserably
accommodated and painful agitated by the recollection of his
disgraceful flight from Boston, anxious for intelligence from Europe,
and distressed by the delay of recruits and supplies, without which
little could be done to retrieve his suffering fame, he quitted that
station, accompanied by Admiral Shuldham, and arrived at Sandy
Hook June 29. On his passage to New York, he accidentally fell in
with a few scattering transports from England, which he took under his
protection, while many less fortunate were captured by the American
cruisers.

General Howe was, soon after this arrival in New York, joined by the
repulsed troops from the southward, and the broken squadron under
the command of Sir Peter Parker; by a regiment from St. Augustine,
another from Pensacola, also by a few troops from St. Vincents,
some small additions from other posts, and a considerable party of
loyalists from New Jersey, and from the environs of Philadelphia and
New York, which by great industry had been collected and embodied
by Governor Tryon. Notwithstanding this acquisition of strength, he
found the continental army so strongly posted on Long Island and
New York, that he did not immediately attempt anything of
consequence.

Immediately after the evacuation of Boston, General Washington had

sent on the army in detachments, and when he had made some
necessary arrangements for the future defense of the eastern states,
he hastened on himself to New York, where he had made all possible
preparation for the reception of General Howe. It has just been
observed that the British commander had collected all his strength
and called in the forces from every quarter of America except
Canada, where under the direction of Generals Carleton and
Burgoyne, measures were ripening for a junction at Albany, with the
expected conquerors of the more southern colonies. But in the
present circumstance of affairs, General Howe thought proper to land
his troops at Staten Island and wait more favorable appearances
which he had reason to expect on the arrival of his brother, an event
hourly and anxiously looked for.

His lordship was considered by many in America as a harbinger of

peace, though advancing in all the pride and pomp of war,
accompanied by the ready executioners of every hostile design. It
was reported that the commander of a formidable equipment both for
sea and land service came out in a double capacity; that though
prepared for offensive operations, Lord Howe had yet a commission
from his royal master to accommodate the disputes and to restore
tranquility to the colonies, on generous and equitable terms. The
augurs of each party predicted the consequences of this ministerial
maneuver, and interpreted the designs of his lordship's commission,
according to their own hopes, fears, or expectations.

In the infancy of her emancipation, America was not such an adept in

the science of political intrigue, but that many yet flattered themselves
that an accommodation might take place, and the halcyon days might
be restored by the interposition of the two brothers, Lord and General
Howe, joined in the commission of peace under the sanction of royal
indulgence. But more judicious men saw through and despised the
bubble of policy, which held a pardon in one hand and a poniard in
the other, with the detestable offer of assassination or slavery. They
considered the mode of pacification proposed as at once an insult to
the feelings, and an affront to the understandings of a people too
serious for trifling when all was at stake and too wise to be cajoled by
superficial appearances. Yet, those best acquainted with the situation
and character, the genius and connections of the inhabitants of the
middle colonies, were not surprised to find many among them who
seemed ready to embrace such humiliating conditions, as the safety,
the interest, the honor and justice of America., were bound to reject.
It was well known that from the beginning of the grand contest, the
lamp of liberty had not burnt so bright in New York, New Jersey, and
Pennsylvania as in some other parts of America. Though there was a
party in New York strongly attached to the cause of the colonies there
had been early reason to suppose that some men of high
consideration in that state were not entirely proof against the influence
of ministerial gold. New Jersey was the retreat of the timid, the
disaffected, and the lovers of inglorious ease, from each corner of
America. They thought they might rest secure from the ravages of
war, as the torch which was lighted at both ends might be
extinguished before it penetrated to the center.

The Quakers and the proprietary interest long hung as a dead weight
on the spirited measures of the genuine friends of freedom and of
their country, both in Pennsylvania and Maryland. But the incidents of
a few months connected every interest, and brought almost every
dissentient voice into union, and hastened on an event that everyone
considered as decisive of the fate of America. The necessity of a
Declaration of Independence was acknowledged by all: even
Maryland, the last state of the union that came into the measure and
whose delegates seceded on the question of independence, was
among the first who erected their own government and established
their own modes of legislation, independent of proprietors or kings.

"The dread of slavery in free nations has at all times produced more
virtues than the principles of their political institutions." [Travels of
Anacharsis.] This dread hung heavily on the most sober and
judicious, the most wise and virtuous part of the inhabitants of
America. They were sensible that both public and private virtue sink
with the loss of liberty, and that the nobler emulations which are
drawn out and adorn the soul of man, when not fettered by servility,
frequently hide themselves in the shade or shrink into littleness at the
frown of a despot. They felt too much for themselves and feared too
much for posterity, longer to balance between either complete or
partial submission, or an unreserved and entire claim of absolute
independence.
These ideas precipitated the important era when a connection was
dissolved, the continuance of which both nature and affection
seemed to require. Great Britain, the revered parent, and America,
the dutiful child, had long been bound together by interest, by a
sameness of habits, manners, religion, laws, and government. The
recollection of their original consanguinity had always been cherished
with an amiable sensibility, or a kind of mechanic enthusiasm, that
promoted mutual felicity when they met on each other's shores or in
distant lands saluted each other in the same language.

A dereliction of old habits of friendship and attachment was far from

the wish of many, who had yet strongly opposed the ministerial
system. But the period was now arrived when American felt her
wrongs, without hope of redress and supported her own rights by
assuming her rank as a distinct nation on the political theater.

We shall see her relinquish at once all hopes of protection, or fears of

control, from the sovereignty of Britain. The reverential awe with
which she had formerly viewed her potent parent was laid aside, and
every effort made to forget her fond attachment for a people that from
her earliest infancy she had looked up to as fathers, brothers, and
friends.

The severities of the British government towards the American

colonies had not yet taught them to express themselves in any other
modes of language but what indicated their firm attachment to the
mother country; nor had they erased the habitual ideas, even of
tenderness, conveyed as their usual modes of expression . When
they formed a design to visit England, I had always been thus
announced, "I am going home." Home, the seat of happiness, the
retreat to all the felicities of the human mind, is too intimately
associated with the best feelings of the heart to renounce without
pain, whether applied to the natural or the political parent.
***********************************

Note 16

The many protests of a number of the House of Lords, which

appeared from time to time against the high measures of a majority in
Parliament, epitomize the American grievances in a point of view that
exhibited the opinion at the time, of a very considerable part of the
most judicious and unprejudiced persons through the nation, both in
and out of Parliament. These protests may be found in a variety of
British publications.

This general favorable disposition toward the Americans in the early

part of the contest was evinced by numberless circumstances; a
crimination of the measures of administration against the colonies,
existed on both sides of the Tweed, and indeed throughout the
kingdom. Many letters and other excellent writings on the subject of
civil and religious liberty were transmitted from England to America,
from the year 1755, until the period when hostilities commenced.
Among the numberless instances that might be adduced, of the spirit
and disposition of the writers of those times, we will here only give the
following extract of a letter form the Earl of Buchan to Mr. Otis; this
was accompanied by some very excellent essays on the subject of
liberty, and by several portraits of his person, adorned at the foot with
a cap of liberty in the center of an annexed motto, "Ubi libertas, ibi
patria."

"London January 26, 1768

"Sir,

"I take the liberty of transmitting to you the enclosed representations

of a man strongly attached to the principles of that invaluable liberty,
without which no real happiness can subsist anywhere.
"My family has often bled in the support it; and descended as I am
from the English Henrys and Edwards, I glory more in the banishment
of my great-grandfather, Lord Cardross to Carolina and the stand
made by Lord Halifax, my ancestor, than in all that title and descent
can give me.

"You may dispose of the other prints to the lovers of my principles;

and I beg you will be so good as to transmit four of them to Messrs...
as eminent defenders of those doctrines in the church, which are so
intimately connected with liberty in the state... Lord Chatham [Lord
Chatham afterwards totally reprobated the conduct of administration
towards the colonies.] has forsaken you, having loved this world; but
his favorite, your humble servant, will not, I trust, ever follow his
steps.

"I am, sir, with great regard, Your most obedient, humble servant,

"Buchan.

"James Otis, Esquire, Boston."

______________________

Chapter Nine: Declaration of Independence. Lord Howe's arrival in

America. Action on Long Island. Retreat of the Americans through
the Jerseys and the loss of Forts Washington and Lee. Affairs in
Canada. Surprise of the Hessians at Trenton. Various transactions in
the Jerseys. General Howe's retreat. Makes headquarters at
Brunswick. His indecisions. Some traits of his character.

The commissioners who had been announced as the messengers of

peace were now hourly expected. But the dubious aspect of their
mission and the equivocal character in which they were about to
appear was far from lulling to inattention the guardians of the cause
of America. Their errand was ostensibly to restore peace to the
colonies; but many circumstances combined to evince that the design
was in reality to furnish new pretexts for the prosecution of the war,
with redoubled vigor. Thus was the Continental Congress fully
convinced of the impropriety of longer holding themselves in
suspense by desultory hopes, or the uncertain termination of their
expectations or their fears. They were sensible the step they were
about to take would either set their country on the pinnacle of human
glory, or plunge it in the abject state into which turbulent and
conquered colonies have been generally reduced. Yet they wisely
judged that this was a proper period to break the shackles and
renounce all political union with the parent state, by a free and bold
declaration of the independence of the American States. This
measure had been contemplated by some gentlemen in the several
colonies some months before it took place. They had communicated
their sentiments to the individual members of Congress, but that body
had been apprehensive that the people at large were not prepared to
unite in a step so replete with important consequences. But the
moment of decision had now arrived when both the Congress and the
inhabitants of the colonies advanced too far to recede.

Richard Henry Lee, Esquire, a delegate from the state of Virginia, a

gentleman of distinguished ability, uniform patriotism, and unshaken
firmness and integrity, was the first who dared explicitly to propose
that this decided measure, on which hung such mighty
consequences, should no longer be delayed. This public and
unequivocal proposal, from a man of his virtue and shining qualities,
appeared to spread a kind of sudden dismay. A silent astonishment
for a few minutes seemed to pervade the whole assembly: this was
soon succeeded by a long debate, and a considerable division of
sentiment on the important question.

After the short silence just observed, the measure proposed by Mr.
Lee was advocated with peculiar zeal by John Adams, Esquire, of the
Massachusetts Bay. He rose with a face of intrepidity and the voice of
energy, and invoked the god of eloquence to enable him to do justice
to the cause of his country and to enforce this important step in such
a manner as might silence all opposition and convince every one of
the necessity of an immediate declaration of the independence of the
United States of America.

Mr. John Dickinson of Pennsylvania took the lead in opposition to the

boldness and danger of this decided measure. He had drawn the
petition to the King forwarded by Mr. Penn, and though no man was
more strenuous in support of the rights of the colonies, he had always
been averse to a separation from Britain, and shuddered at the idea
of an avowed revolt of the American colonies. He arose on this
occasion with no less solemnity than Mr. Adams had recently done,
and with equal pathos of expression, and more brilliance of epithet,
he invoked the Great Governor of the Universe, to animate him with
powers of language sufficient to exhibit a view of the dread
consequences to both countries that such a hasty dismemberment of
the Empire might produce. He descanted largely on the happy effects
that might probably ensue from more patient and conciliatory
dispositions, and urged at least a temporary suspension of a step that
could never be revoked. He declared that it was his opinion that even
policy forbade the precipitation of this measure and that humanity
more strongly dictated that they ought to wait longer the success of
petitions and negotiations, before they formally renounced their
allegiance to the King of Great Britain, broke off all connection with
England, plunged

alone into an unequal war, and rushed without allies into the
unforeseen and inevitable dangers that attended it.

The consequences of such a solemn act of separation were indeed of

serious and extensive magnitude. The energy of brilliant talents, and
great strength of argument were displayed by both parties on this
weighty occasion. The reasons urging the necessity of decision, and
the indubitable danger of delay were clear and cogent; the objections,
plausible, humane, and important. But after a fair discussion of the
question, an accurate statement of the reasons for adopting the
measure and a candid scrutiny of the objections against it, grounded
either on policy or humanity, a large majority of the members of
Congress appeared in favor of an immediate renunciation of
allegiance to the Crown, or any future subjugation to the King of Great
Britain.

A declaration of the independence of America [See Note 17 at the end

of this chapter], and the sovereignty of the United States was drawn
by the ingenious and philosophic pen of Thomas Jefferson, Esquire, a
delegate from the state of Virginia. [This wise and patriotic statesman
was afterwards appointed ambassador to the court of France. On the
adoption of the present constitution of government, he was appointed
secretary for foreign affairs, was chosen vice president, and
afterwards president of the United States of America.] The delegates
from twelve [The members from Maryland seceded, but in a short
time after joined the confederation.] of the American States agreed
almost unanimously to this declaration, the language, the principles,
and the spirit of which were equally honorable to themselves and
their country. It was signed by John Hancock, then president of
Congress, on July 4, 1776.

The allegiance of 13 states at once withdrawn by a solemn declaration

from a government towards which they had looked with the highest
veneration; whose authority they had acknowledged, whose laws
they had obeyed, whose protection they had claimed for more than a
century and a half -- was a consideration of solemnity, a bold
resolution, an experiment of hazard: especially when the infancy of
the colonies as a nation, without wealth, resources, or allies, was
contrasted with the strength, riches, and power of Great Britain. The
timid trembled at the ideas of final separation; the disciples of passive
obedience were shocked by a reflection of a breach of faith to their
ancient sovereign; and the enemies to the general freedom of
mankind were incensed to madness or involved in despair. But these
classes bore a small proportion to those who resented the rejection of
their petitions and coolly surveyed the impending dangers that
threatened themselves and their children, which rendered it clear to
their apprehension that this step was necessary to their political
salvation. They considered themselves no longer bound by any
moral tie, to render fealty to a sovereign thus disposed to encroach
on their civil freedom, which they could now secure only by a social
compact among themselves, and which they determined to maintain
or perish in the attempt.

By the Declaration of Independence, dreaded by the foes an for a time

doubtfully viewed by many of the friends of America, everything stood
on a new and more respectable footing, both with regard to the
operations of war or negotiations with foreign powers. Americans
could now no more be considered as rebels in their proposals for
treaties of peace and conciliation with Britain. They were a distinct
people, who claimed the rights, the usage, the faith, and the respect
of nations, uncontrolled by any foreign power. The colonies thus
irretrievably lost to Great Britain, a new face appeared on all affairs
both at home and abroad.

America had been little known among the kingdoms of Europe. She
was considered only as an appendage to the power of Britain. The
principles of her sons were in some respects dissimilar, and their
manners not yet wrought up to the standard of refinement reigning in
ancient courts. Her statesmen in general were unacquainted with the
intrigues necessary for negotiations and the finesse usually
hackneyed in and about the cabinets of princes. She now appeared
in their eyes a new theater, pregnant with events that might be
interesting to the civil and political institutions of nations, that had
never before paid much attention to the growth, population, and
importance of an immense territory beyond the Atlantic.

The United States had their ambassadors to create or to transplant

from the bar or the counting house. Their generals were, many of
them, the yeomanry or the tradesmen of the country. Their
subordinate officers had been of equal rank and fortune, and the
army to be governed was composed of many of the old associates
of the principal officers and were equally tenacious of personal
liberty. The regalia of power, orders of nobility, and the splendor of
courts had been by them viewed only at a distance. The discipline of
armies was entirely new. The difficulty of connecting many distinct
states to act as it were by one will, the expenses of government in
new exigencies, and the waste of war had not yet been accurately
calculated by their politicians and statesmen. But their senators, their
representatives, and their magistrates were generally sagacious and
vigilant, upright and firm. There officers were brace., their troops in
spirits, and with a full confidence in their command in chief. Hope was
exhilarated by the retreat from Boston, and the repeated successes
of their arms at the southward; while new dignity was added to office,
and stronger motives for illustrious action by the rank America had
now taken among the nations. Thus, by the Declaration of
Independence, they had new ground to tread. The scene of action
was changed. Genius was called forth from every quarter of the
continent, and the public expectation enhanced by the general
favorable appearance in all their military operations.

In this situation stood affairs, both in the cabinet and in the field, when
Lord Howe arrived at Staten Island, with a formidable squadron under
his command, on July 12, 1776. At the head of this hostile
arrangement, his Lordship came in full confidence of success. Yet
amid the splendor and parade of war, while he held out his potent
arm, he still cherished the delusory hope of peace.

By a pompous declaration, he early announced his pacific powers to

the principal magistrates of the several colonies, and promised
pardon to all who, in late times, had deviated from their allegiance, on
condition that they would speedily return to their duty, ad gave
encouragement that they should, on compliance, hereafter reap the
benefit of royal favor. Lord Howe observed in his declaration "that the
commissioners were authorized in his Majesty's name to declare any
province, colony, county, district, or town to be at peace of his
Majesty, and that due consideration should be had to the meritorious
services of any who should aid or assist in restoring the public
tranquility; that their dutiful representations should be received,
pardons granted, and suitable encouragement to such as would
promote the measures of legal government and peace, in pursuance
of His Majesty's most gracious purposes." [This declaration and the
consequent resolves of Congress may be seen at large in the public
journals of the sessions of 1776.]

Congress ordered the declaration to be immediately published in all

the American gazettes, that the people of the Untied States might be
fully informed of the terms of peace; that they might see for
themselves that the business of the commissioners was to amuse,
disunite, and deceive them; and that those who still continued in
suspense from hopes founded either on the justice or moderation of
the Court of Great Britain might now be fully convinced that their own
valor, virtue, and firmness must rescue and preserve the freedom of
their country. [The American Congress were not remiss at this time in
exerting their efforts to detach foreigners from the service of Britain,
and alluring them to become inhabitants of the United States, by
promising them a quiet residence, an allotment of lands, and a
security from all interruptions in the enjoyment of their religious
opinions, and the investiture of all the privileges of native citizens.]

The next advance His Lordship made for the execution of his
commission was by a flag sent on shore within a few days after his
arrival, with a letter directed to George Washington, Esquire. By their
principles and their professions, the Americans were taught at this
period to look down on titles and distinguished ranks. Yet, in this
instance, they did not think proper to pass over the implicit denial of
either to their commander in chief. It was viewed as a designed
affront from those who consider such adventitious circumstances of
so much consequence, as carefully to avoid all honorary epithets in
their addresses to the first officers of the United States. It was thought
more becoming the dignity of his station, both as a soldier and a
patriot, for the chief commander to refuse an address that tacitly
denied the legality of his commission and the right now claimed of
negotiating on terms of equality. This letter was, therefore, by the
advice of the principal officers, returned unopened.

This drew out a second advance from the hands of the British
commissioners, when Major Patterson, adjutant general of the army,
was charged with a letter directed to George Washington, etc. He
was receive din military state and treated with great politeness in the
American camp. His Lordship in this second address expressed the
highest respect for the private character of General Washington, but
as he did not yet condescend to acknowledge the commander in
chief of the American troops as anything more than a rebel in arms,
this letter was also returned without breaking the seal.

Many civilities passed in this interview with Mr. Patterson, who did not
forget to insinuate his own wishes for the restoration of friendship and
harmony between the two countries. He, with due propriety, made
several observations on the extensive powers vested in the
commissioners of this salutary purpose. This introduced some
general conversation relative to the treatment of prisoners on both
sides. The conference was of some length, but as no circumstance
indicated a happy result from the negotiation, General Washington, in
the most explicit terms, informed the British adjutant general that the
inhabitants of the American States were generally of opinion that a
people armed in defense of their rights were in the way of their duty;
that conscious of no criminality, they needed no pardon; and as his
Lordship's commission extended no farther, nothing important could
be expected from protracting the negotiation.

In the mean time, reinforcements were daily dropping in to the

assistance of the British army. The scattered divisions of Hessians,
Waldeckers, etc. designed for the summer campaign had been
somewhat retarded by not knowing with certainty the spot destined for
headquarters. They had some of them sailed directly for Halifax. This
occasioned a delay of any energetic movement until the latter part of
the month of August, when the British army began to act with vigor.

General Washington had rather incautiously encamped the bulk of his

army on Long Island -- a large and plentiful district about two miles
from the city of New York. This island contained many settlements,
through an extend of 120 miles in length. It was inhabited principally
by loyalists and persons generally disaffected to the American cause.
Many were at a loss for a reason, nor indeed could any conjecture
why the commander of the American army should hazard his troops
on an island liable at any moment to be surrounded by the British
navy. However it was, several thousand Americans were there
posted, under the command of Generals Putnam, Sullivan, and
William Alexander, Lord Stirling.

Sir William Howe very wisely judged that it was a less arduous and a
more promising undertaking to dislodge the Americans from their
encampment on the island than a direct attempt to reduce New York.
The royal army at that time consisted of about 30,000 men. These he
found no difficulty in landing from Staten Island, and in detachments
posted them from one end of Long Island to the other, separated from
the Americans by a ridge of hills covered with woods. Very
fortunately for the enterprise of the British, one of the American out-
guards early fell into the hands of General Clinton. In consequence of
some intelligence gained by this accident, he, before daylight on the
morning of August 27, possessed himself of some very advantageous
heights and made such a judicious arrangement of his troops as
might have insured success even had the Americans been better
prepared for the attack which at that time was rather unexpected.
The assault was begun by the Hessian General de Heister. He
opened the cannonade in front of the American lines early on the
morning of August 28. A general engagement speedily ensured.
Nearly the whole of the British forces were called into action, under
the command of Sir Henry Clinton, Earl Percy, and Lord Cornwallis.
By some fatal neglect, a very important post was left unguarded by
the American, which was seized by the British troops, who fought on
this occasion with a spirit and bravery becoming the experienced
commander and the hardy veteran. The American troops were early
deranged. Apprised of their danger, they with great resolution
endeavored to recover their camp; but nearly surrounded by the
British, and pushed in the center by the Hessians, they were so far
from effecting their design that their retreat was nearly cut off. Yet
many of them desperately fought their way through some of the
British lines and again bravely stood on their defense. Others,
entangled in the woods and marshes through which they endeavored
to escape, were either captured or perished in the attempt.

In the midst of the general anxiety of the danger and distress of the
little army on Long Island, General Washington, undoubtedly anxious
to retrieve his mistake in thus exposing them, passed over from New
York to endeavor to secure the retreat of the surviving troops. This
was executed in the night of August 29, without noise or tumult. The
remainder of the broken regiments that had outlived the fatal action,
abandoned the island with a considerable part of their baggage,
some artillery, and military stores, and without molestation reached
the city of New York. They had made a bold and resolute stand,
against far superior numbers and discipline; and it may be deemed
fortunate that any of them escaped, as on a island they might easily
have been hemmed in by a small number of British ships. Perhaps
the commanders on both sides were afterwards sensible of their error,
the one in hazarding his troops in such an exposed situation, the
other in suffering a single American to escape either captivity or
death.

The loss of men in this action was not inconsiderable on either side,
but it fell most heavily on the Americans. Many brave men perished
by the sword; others, as was observed, were lost in the morasses
and swamps to which they had fled on the defeat. Three general
officers and a large number of inferior rank were made prisoners. A
regiment of valiant young men from Maryland, many of them of family
and fortune, commanded by the gallant Colonel Smallwood, were
almost to a man cut off. The misfortune of the day was severely felt
by them, but without checking the ardor of the American army, the
people or the Continental Congress. The same uniform dignity and
unruffled superiority of mind appeared in the judicious determinations
of the united delegates, in the conduct of the state departments, and
in the subsequent firmness of most o the military officers as before
this defeat. But the success of their arms and the acquisition of Long
Island exhilarated the spirits of the British and gave hopes of more
compliant dispositions and a more ready acquiescence in the
requisitions of ministers or the veto of kings: and that the business of
the commissioners might now be brought forward without farther
impediment.

Not many days after the retreat from Long Island, Congress was
called upon to exhibit a new proof of their firmness. General Sullivan,
one of the captured officers, was dispatched on parole with a
message to that assembly, in the joint names of Lord and General
Howe. The purport of the message was that they had full powers
and that they were disposed to treat on terms of accommodation and
peace. At the same time they intimated that as Congress was not
considered in the eye of Majesty as a legal assembly, they only
desired a private conference with a few individuals belonging to that
body in the character and capacity of private gentlemen. To this
extraordinary request, which threw them into a very delicate situation,
Congress replied that as delegates of a free and independent people,
they could with no propriety send any of the members of Congress in
a private capacity on an errand so replete with public consequences.
But they would depute a committee from their body to inquire by what
authority and on what terms His Lordship and brother were
empowered to negotiate.

The insidious message received had no tendency to eradicate the

previous opinion of Congress that this was but a ministerial pretext to
palliate their injurious designs. They were convinced that the
commission of the agents was derogatory to the great national
councils and to that high authority which had vested the British
commissioners with no powers, but to pardon those who deemed
themselves guiltless and with no conciliatory proposals at which
freemen would not spurn, unless driven to despair. Yet they
condescended so far to this political trifling as to depute a very
respectable committee to meet Lord Howe and confer on the subject.
The celebration Doctor Franklin, the Honorable Mr. Rutledge of South
Carolina, and John Adams, Esquire, of the Massachusetts were the
persons chosen for this singular interview.

On a stipulated day, they met his Lordship on Staten Island,

accompanied only by Mr. Strachey, his secretary. He received them
with much civility, but conversed equivocally; and though careful not
to be explicit, it did not require the penetration of men of far less
superior abilities to discover that he was restricted to very narrow
limits for a negotiator between contending nations. It was evident that
he had no plan of accommodation, or any proposals for amity, on any
terms but those of absolute and unconditional submission. Yet these
gentlemen patiently attended to the circumvolutions of His Lordship,
who observed neither precision or perspicuity in his modes of
conversing; nor could he disguise an apparent embarrassment under
the display of affability and good humor. It was even painful to see a
British nobleman, endowed with talents for the most honorable
employments, thus reduced to act under a veil of intrigue,
inconsistent with the character of the gentleman or the man of
business. [The above detail of the interview on Staten Island was
soon after verbally related to the author of these annals by one of the
committee of conference.]

This conference continued three or four hours, when a short and

frugal repast concluded a negotiation that had fed many well-meaning
people with delusory hopes and for several months had been the
subject of political speculation both in Europe and America. This
singular interview had indeed little other effect than, on the one side,
to rivet that strong disgust which before existed, against the
treacherous councils of the British ministry and Parliament, and, on
the other, to convince more perfectly the agents of monarchy of the
determined spirit of America, and the ability of men with whom she
had entrusted the security of her rights. However, when the parties
took leave of each other, it was not without some tender emotions. Dr.
Franklin had been in long habits of friendship and intimacy with Lord
Howe. They had in England frequently conversed, and afterwards
corresponded on the parliamentary dispute with America. Their
regard for each other was mutual, and as there was now every
reason to suppose this would be the last personal interview between
them, the idea was painful that this political storm might sweep away
all remains of private friendship. [In a similar conversation between
Lord Howe and Doctor Franklin, His Lordship expressed a regard for
the Americans and the pain he felt for their approaching sufferings.
Doctor Franklin, in his easy sententious manner, thanked him for his
regards, and assured him that "the Americans would show their
gratitude by endeavoring to lessen as much as possible all pain he
might feel on their account by exerting their utmost abilities in taking
good care of themselves."]

It was not long after all ideas of negotiation were relinquished before
the commissioners and their Sovereign had the most positive proofs
that though the villages might be stained with the crimson tide that
threatened to deluge the land, yet freedom in her last asylum would
resist the designs of all who had sighed for her annihilation, to the last
moment of her existence.

The late defeat of the Americans and the entire possession of Long
Island threw accumulated advantages into the hand of the British
commander, who made immediate preparation to attack and take
possession of the city of New York. In consequence of these
movements, General Washington, advised by the most judicious of
his officers [General Lee particularly, who had just arrived from
Georgia. He, by urging this advice, may be said to share in the merit
of saving the American army.], thought it prudent to evacuate the city
without further delay. It would indeed have been madness to have
attempted a longer defense with his diminished numbers, against a
potent army flushed with recent success. The American army was
drawn off from above Kingsbridge on October 21, but a day before
the British took possession of the city. General Washington
encamped his retreating troops on the heights of Harlem, about nine
miles distance from Kingsbridge. When General Howe took
possession of the evacuated post, he must from this event
undoubtedly have felt some consolation for the mortification he had
suffered on recollecting the circumstances of his flight from Boston.
The alternate triumph or chagrin, from the uncertain chances and
events of war, are generally of short duration: the Americans now in
their turn experienced the pains of anxiety, disappointment, and want,
through a rapid flight from post to post, before a victorious army, who
despised their weakness and ridiculed their want of discipline.

General Howe placed a strong detachment in the garrison for the

defense of the city of New York, and immediately marched with the
main body of his army in pursuit of Washington. He crossed East
River, seized a point of land near West Chester, and made himself
master of the lower road to Connecticut, with design to impede the
intercourse between the northern and southern states. By this
movement, he also hoped to impel the American commander, at
every hazard, to risk an engagement that might probably have been
decisive. But General Washington was too well acquainted with
human nature to suffer his troops, though ardent for action and
impatient of delay, to trust to the impulse of constitutional courage and
expose the reputation of the American arms and the decision of the
great contest to the uncertain events of a day under the present
disadvantages of number and discipline. A second defeat in so short
a time would undoubtedly have spread dismay and perhaps a
defection that might have been fatal to the independence of America.
[This opinion as corroborated by the behavior of the Americans when
the British landed from Kepp's Bay, September 15. They discovered a
timidity that nothing can excuse, but their recent sufferings on Long
Island, their inferior numbers, and their dread of the superior
discipline of British troops.] He was sensible his troops, though
naturally brave, were not sufficiently inured to danger, and hardened
by experience, to raise the mind to that sublime pitch of enthusiasm
and inflexibility necessary to stand their ground against superior
strength, discipline, and numbers. He therefore determined, by
cautious and guarded marches, to keep in flank with the British army,
until circumstances might put it in his power to combat on more
equal terms.

He place a strong party in Fort Washington, a fortress near

Kingsbridge, which, though well provided, was at the time judged not
tenable by some of his best officers. This opinion was over-ruled,
and between three and four thousand men were left there. This was
considered by many a second fatal mistake of the renowned
Washington. [General Washington, however, was undoubtedly
advised to this step by several of his best officers.] With the
remainder of the army, the commander in chief decamped and moved
towards the high grounds on the upper road to Boston. The
possession of this part of the country was an important object; of
consequence, the Americans were closely pursued by General Howe,
who did not yet relinquish his hopes of a decisive action.

Frequent skirmishes had taken place on the route, without material

advantages on either side; but on October 28, the British overtook the
American army near the White Plains, thirty miles distant from New
York City, when an action of moment ensued. The attack was begun
by the Hessians, the forlorn hope of the British army. They were
commanded by General de Hister and Colonel Rhal. Equal resolution
animated both parties, and a considerable slaughter among the
troops on both sides took place. [Among the slain was the valiant
Colonel Smallwood, whose regiment was nearly cut to pieces in the
action on Long Island.] The Americans, unable to bear these losses,
fully apprised of the strength of the enemy, and that reinforcements
had recently arrived under Lord Percy, both the American
commander and the army were equally willing to take a more distant
position.

The British army had gained several very important advantages,

among which was the command of the River Bronx, which was
passed by Colonel Rhal, who by this means acquired a very
important post, which enable him essentially to annoy the American
army.

The action on the White Plains was a well-fought battle on both sides;
but the Americans had neither the numbers, the experience, nor the
equipments for war, at that time, which rendered them equally able to
cope with the strength, the numbers, the preparation, and the valor of
the British army, under officers whose trade had long been that of
war. And though the American commander made his escape with his
small armament, and retreated with all the prudence and firmness of
a general who had been longer tried in the field of action, the British
had certainly a right in this affair to boast a complete victory. [The
town of White Plains was set on fire after the action, and all the
houses and forage near the lines burnt. This the British charge to the
account of the American commander.]

After the engagement, General Washington found it necessary to quit

the field. He drew back in the night to his entrenchments, and the
next day took possession of some higher grounds, about the distance
of two miles.

General Howe, after parading a few days near the late scene of
action, and indiscriminately plundering the neighborhood, ordered his
tents to be struck, and a movement of his whole army to be made
towards New York. As his troops had long been kept in continual
motion, were fatigued and harassed by sudden alarms, and the
season far advanced, it was rationally concluded that his design was
to repair immediately to winter quarters. But by a stroke of
generalship, little expected where no remarkable superiority in
military knowledge had yet been discovered, affairs took a most
unfavorable turn for the Americans, and reduced the little, resolute
continental army to dangers and distresses, to exertions and vigor,
scarcely to be paralleled in history.
The numbers that had already fallen on both sides, by the rapid
movements and frequent skirmishes of the space of three or four
months cannot be ascertained with exactitude. It was computed that
not less than 5000, principally Hessians, either perished or deserted
from the ministerial army, after the action of Long Island to the middle
of November, when General Howe laid the estimate before Lord
George Germaine. [In General Howe's letter to the Secretary for
American Affairs, he acknowledged he had lost upwards of 300 staff
and other officers, and between 4000 and 5000 privates.] The
Americans undoubtedly suffered in more than equal proportion, and
from many causes were much less able to bear the reduction. The
peculiar mode of raising troops hitherto adopted by the United States
had a tendency to retard the operations of war, and in some measure
to defeat the best concerted plans, either for enterprise or defense.
The several colonies had furnished their quota of men for a limited
term only; and the country unused to standing armies, and the control
of military power, impatient at the subordination necessary in a camp,
and actuated by a strong sense of the liberty of the individual, each
one had usually returned to his habitation at the expiration of his term
of service, in spite of every danger that threatened the whole. This
had occasioned frequent calls on the militia of the country, in aid of
the army thus weakened, and kept in continual fluctuation by raw
recruits, raised and sent on for a few months at a time.

In addition to these embarrassments, animosities had sometimes

arisen between the southern and eastern troops, occasioned by the
revival of some old local prejudices. The aristocratic spirit that had
been formerly characteristic of the south, frequently appeared in airs
of assumed superiority, very disgusting to the feelings of their eastern
brethren, the bold and hardy New Englanders. The full-blooded
Yankees, as they sometimes boasted themselves, who, having few
slaves at their command, had always been sued to more equality of
condition, both in rank, fortune, and education. These trivial causes
sometimes raised animosities to such a height that in the present
circumstance of the army, the authority of the commander in chief was
scarcely sufficient to restrain them.

General Washington was also obliged often in his retreat through the
Jerseys to press for provisions, forage, and clothing, in a manner new
to the inhabitants of America, who, as their misfortunes seemed to
thicken, grew more remiss for a time in voluntary aids to the army.
Their grain was seized and threshed out for use of the troops, their
blankets, provisions, etc. forcibly taken from the houses, with a
promise of payment in paper bills, when the exigencies of the country
should permit. But it always appeared to the people the act of some
subordinate officers, rather than the order of the commander in chief.
Thus was his popularity kept up; and thus were the inhabitants of the
Jerseys plundered by each party; while many of them disaffected to
both, were uncertain on which side to declare.

General Howe, well acquainted with these embarrassing

circumstances, and apprised that Congress were taking measures to
remedy the evils in the future, wisely judged that as he could not
force Washington to a general engagement, it would be more
advantageous for the present to suspend his pursuit and dislodge the
Americans from their strongholds in the environs of New York. He
was too sensible from the causes above related that the continental
army would diminish of itself as soon as the term of their enlistment
expired. From these considerations, he drew back his army, with the
determination to invest Fort Washington immediately. [Near
Kingsbridge, 15 miles from New York City]. This fortress on the one
side of the North River, and Fort Lee on the opposite shore,
commanded the whole navigation of the river, at the same time that it
impeded the communication with New York by land.

General Washington could not rationally suppose that a post of so

much importance would remain long unmolested or that the garrison
could be defended against the whole force of the British army.
General Lee afterwards boasted in a letter to a friend that he had
 advised the evacuation of both Fort Washington and Fort Lee
previous to the main body of the American army leaving the
neighborhood of New York. However this might have been, it was
indeed a great mistake that it was not done. General Washington
might then have had the assistance of the brave men who fell there.
[An officer of the army wrote to General Lee after the surrender of
Fort Washington and expressed himself thus: "We have all additional
reasons for most earnestly wishing to have you where the principal
scene of action is laid. I have no doubt had you been here, the
garrison of Mount Washington would now have composed a part of
this army; every gentleman of the family, the officers and soldiers
generally, have a confidence in you; the enemy constantly inquire
where you are and seem to me to be less confident when you are
present. We are informed by an officer lately liberated that the enemy
have a southern expedition in view; that they hold us very cheap in
consequence of the late affair at Mount Washington, where both the
plan of defense and execution were contemptible. If a real defense of
the lines was intended, the number was too few; if the fort only,

the garrison was too numerous by half." Extract from General Reed to
General Lee.]

General Knyphaufen with six battalions suddenly crossed the country

from Rochelle to Kingsbridge, where, joined by light infantry and
grenadiers, the one commanded by Lord Cornwallis, the other by Earl
Percy, the fort was on all side attacked with vigor, and defended with
bravery. On November 16, Colonel Magaw, the commanding officer,
was summoned to surrender without farther delay. He requested that
he might be allowed to consider till nine o'clock the next morning,
before he gave a decisive answer. It was replied that two hours only
were granted. At the expiration of this short parley, the adjutant
general of the British army who waited the reply, was informed that
the fort would be defended to the last moment. Accordingly, a
resistance was made with astonishing valor for several hours; but to
prevent the farther effusion of blood, the Americans yielded to
necessity and surrendered themselves prisoners of war, at the
moment when the Hessian and British troops were on the point of
storming the garrison.

Near 3000 continental troops were lost by this disaster. These

unhappy victims of war, notwithstanding the inclemency of the
season, were stripped of their apparel and thrown naked into jails of
New York; where, after suffering the extremes of misery from cold,
hunger, and sickness, most of them perished. The remnant who
escaped immediate death were after some months imprisonment,
sent on parole to visit their friends, many of them infected with the
small pox, and all of them in such a languishing, emaciated condition
as proved a useful lesson to their countrymen; who, by this instance
of severity towards the brave and unfortunate, were universally
convinced that death in the field of battle was much to be preferred to
the cruelties they had reason to expect if they fell into British hands,
though a nation once famed for the virtues of justice, generosity, and
clemency.

After the surrender of Fort Washington, no time was lost. The

advantages gained by the British troops were pushed with spirit. With
the utmost ease, they took possession of Fort Lee. The American
garrison fled on the first apprehension of an attack, without offering
the smallest resistance. General Howe embraced these favorable
circumstances to prosecute his designs, stimulated by the hope of
reaching and surprising Philadelphia before the American army could
be reinforced. Thus, near the close of the campaign, when the
continental troops were daily dropping off, and a severe winter setting
in, he had every reason to cherish his most sanguine hopes. He for
some time pushed his purposes with vigor and alacrity, and obliged
General Washington, with a handful of men, to retreat from town to
town, until hunted through the state of New Jersey, and even over the
Delaware, which he had time to cross only six hours before the whole
body of the British army, consisting of 10, 000 or 12,000 men, were
on the opposite banks.
The reasons why General Howe did not sooner overtake the
distressed fugitives, or why he cantoned his troops without crossing
the river and taking possession of the city of Philadelphia, remain yet
to be investigated. The retreat was conducted with ability, but the
remnant that escaped was too small to intimidate the enemy or to
encourage the friends of the American cause. A great part of the
inhabitants of the city, either from fear, affection, or interest, were at
that time disposed to receive with open arms the British commander;
and the consternation of all parties operated in favor of erecting the
King's standard in the capital of America.

Congress, by advice of some military characters, precipitately

removed to Baltimore, in the state of Maryland. The public concern
was also heightened at this critical period, by the recent capture of
General Lee. He had been collecting a number of militia in the
neighborhood of Morristown, with a design to fall on the rear of the
British army, while in chase of Washington through the Jerseys. It is
not known why he was thus unguarded, but he incautiously lodged at
the little village of Baskenridge, four miles from the troops he had
collected, and about 20 from the British army. Here he was betrayed,
surprised, and taken prisoner. Colonel Harcourt of the light horse
conducted the enterprise with so much address that with a very small
party, he without noise passed all the American guards on his way,
surrounded the house, and took possession of his prisoner without
the smallest resistance. In the hurry of the business, Lee was not
suffered to take either hat or cloak, and thus in a ruffian-like manner
was conducted to the British headquarters.

A peculiar triumph was enjoyed by his enemies in the capture of this

single officer. They considered his services at that period of the
greatest consequence to the American army. In addition to this, he
was viewed as a rebel to the Sovereign of Britain in a double sense,
both as a deserter from the King's service, in which he had long held
an honorable rank, and as an abettor of the American defection, and
one of the first officers of their army. He was, of course, confined in
the strictest
manner, and threatened with military execution as a traitor to the
King. The Americans at that time had no British prisoners of equal
rank, yet they made the most strenuous efforts for his release. A
Colonel Campbell with five Hessian field-officers were soon after
offered for the exchange of General Lee. When this was refused,
General Washington advertised Sir William Howe that heir blood must
atone for his life if Lee fell a sacrifice to the resentment of his
enemies.

Humanity recoils at the sufferings of individuals who by the laws of

retaliation are deemed the legal victims of policy. But though the mind
of the gentle may be wounded by the necessity, habit, in time, too
often learns it to acquiesce in the cruel policy of nations. Public
emergencies may require the hand of severity to fall heavily on those
who are not personally guilty, but compassion prompts, and ever
urges to milder methods. However, General Lee was not executed
nor suddenly released. Colonel Campbell was closely imprisoned and
treated with much severity, and a considerable time elapsed before
either of them were relieved, except by some mitigation in the manner
of Colonel Campbell's confinement, which was carried to an extreme
not warranted even to a notorious felon. [General Lee was also
treated very severely until the defeat of Burgoyne. After this, he was
permitted to repair to New York on parole and soon after liberated by
an exchange of prisoners.]

Perhaps at no period of the great struggle for independence were the

affairs of the United States at so low an ebb as at the present. The
foot steps of the British army in their route through the Jerseys were
everywhere marked with the most wanton instances of rapine and
bloodshed. Even the sacred repositories of the dead were not
unmolested by the sacrilegious hands of the soldiery. [This usage of
the dead is authenticated by the accounts of several gentlemen of
respectability near the scene of action.] While the licentiousness of
their officers spread rape, misery, and despair indiscriminately
through every village.
Thus, while human nature was disgraced, and the feelings of
benevolence shocked by the perpetration of every crime; when the
army spared neither age nor sex, youth, beauty, nor innocence; it is
observable that the distresses of war had fallen principally on that
state which at that time contained a greater proportion of persons
attached to the royal cause than could have been found in any other
part of America. But so intermixed and blended were persons,
families, and parties of different political opinions that it was not easy
to distinguish in the wanton riot of victory their friends from their foes
or the royalists from the Whigs, even had the royal army been
disposed to discriminate. It was indeed impossible for their foreign
auxiliaries to make any distinction among Americans, though some
British officers would gladly have checked the insolence of triumph,
unbalanced by any principle of religion, honor, or humanity. A neglect
of strict discipline prevented the melioration of crime and misery, and
filled up the measure of censure which afterwards fell on the
commander in chief of the British forces, even from those who
wished to give his military operations the most brilliant cast. [See Sir
William Howe's defense of his conduct in his letters to administration,
published in London.]

Had General Howe persevered in his pursuit and have crossed the
Delaware, he would inevitably have destroyed even the vestige of an
American army. The remnant of the old troops drawn into
Philadelphia was too small for resistance. The citizens were divided
and intimidated. Congress had retreated to Baltimore. The country
was dispirited, and Washington himself. ready to despair, had actually
consulted some of his officers on the expediency of flying to the back
parts of Pennsylvania, or even beyond the Allegheny Mountains, to
escape the usual fate of unsuccessful rebels, or as himself expressed
it "to save his neck from a halter." [This was confidentially said to an
officer who reported that the General put his hand to his neck and
observed that it did not feel as if made for a halter. See Stedman's
History. It is probably if ever General Washington really expressed
himself in this manner, it was uttered more from the momentary
ebullition of distress than from the serious contemplation of despair. It
discovered more a determination to live free than any timidity from
sudden dismay. Had General Howe overtaken the American troops
and have secured their commander, he would doubtless have been
made a victim of severe vengeance.]

Thus, without an army, without allies, and without resources, the

gloom of disappointment overspread not only the brow of the
commander in chief, but expanded wide, and ruin from every quarter
lowered on the face of American freedom. Newport and the adjacent
islands were taken possession of by a part of the British army and
navy, under the command of Commodore Sir Peter Parker and Sir
Henry Clinton. The whole colony of Rhode Island was not able to
make the smallest resistance to the seizure of their capital. And to
complete the climax of danger which this melancholy winter exhibited,
the irruptions of the natives in various parts was not the least. Many
tribes of those aborigines, stimulated by British influence and headed
by some American desperadoes in the service of Britain, were
making the most horrid depredations on the back settlements of
some of the southern states. Nor did the affairs of America at the
northward wear a more favorable aspect.

General Carleton had conducted the campaign of this year with the
ability of the statesman and the courage of the soldier; and
notwithstanding the severity of his general character, he, with a
degree of humanity honorable to himself, and exemplary to his
military associates, had been disposed to commiserate the
unfortunate. It has been observed that all who fell into his hands after
the death of General Montgomery were treated with lenity and
tenderness. He was doubtless sensible that a war enkindled more to
satiate a spirit of resentment and pride than to establish the principles
of justice required every palliative to mitigate the odium of the
disgraceful design of subduing America by the aid of savages, who
had hutted for ages in the wilderness beyond the distant lakes.
General Carleton, with the most extraordinary vigilance and vigor,
had conducted the pursuit of the Americans, until Arnold and his party
were chased out of the Province of Quebec. Nor did he ever lose
sight of his object, which was to make himself master of the Hudson,
and form a junction at Albany with General Howe, whose troops in
detached parties were wasting the middle colonies and cooperating in
the same design.

By uncommon exertions, Carleton obtained a fleet in the wilderness of

such strength and superiority as to destroy the little American
squadron on the Lake Champlain, one of the smaller navigable
basins in the woods of that astonishing country. The lakes of America
are among the wonders of the world. They are numerous and
extensive, deep and navigable at many hundreds miles distance from
the ocean. A view of this part of creation is sublime and astonishing.
There are five of those lakes of principal magnitude. The smallest of
them, Lake Ontario, is more than 200, and the largest, Lake Superior,
is 500 leagues in circumference. [The principal of these inland seas
are Lake Superior, Huron, Michigan, Erie, and Ontario. The
description of these and smaller sheets of water spread over the vast
western territory may be found in every geographical work.] Happy
might it have been for the Atlantic states had they been content within
these boundaries of nature, and not at an after period have wasted
the blood of their citizens in attempting to wrest from the natives a
vast extent of territory which is very improbable they will be long able
to govern, unless a remarkable coincidence of events should give
them a commanding influence, superior to any European power.

The bravery of Arnold was on his retreat equally conspicuous with the
outset of his extraordinary undertaking. But notwithstanding his
vigilance and the valor of his soldiers, they were reduced to the
utmost distress before he blew up the remainder of his fleet, which
Carleton had not captured, and run his last ship on shore, without
acknowledging the superiority of the British flag by servile signal of
striking of his colors. Obliged to relinquish every post of advantage,
Arnold and the remnant of his troops were driven naked, defenseless,
and despondent from forest to forest and from lake to lake, until they
reached Ticonderoga. The garrison there had been reinforced by
some militia from the eastern states, but they were in no condition to
meet General Carleton, whose advancement they had every reason
to expect, with superior numbers, and the double advantage of
discipline and success, and his exertions aided by tribes of copper-
colored savages.

General Thomas had been seen from Cambridge in the spring, 1776,
with a detachment of the continental army to endeavor in conjunction
with the eastern militia, to retrieve the wretched state of affairs in
Canada. He was a man of cool judgment, possessed of courage the
result of principle, rather than bravery the impulse of passion. He
was respected by the citizens, beloved by the soldiers, and well
qualified by the firmness of his mind and the strength of his
constitution to face the dangers of a campaign in the wilderness. But
unfortunately for him, he was deputed to the northern command to
oppose the enjoined forces of the native barbarians and their British
allies, at a time when the remains of the American army were
dismayed by defeat, worn out by fatigue, and in addition to their
distresses, a pestilential disorder, then fatal to New Englanders, had
spread through the camp. The small pox, by the ill policy of the
country, had been so long kept from their doors that there was scarce
a man among them who was not more afraid of an attack from this
kind of pestilence than the fury of the sword. But no caution could
prevent the rapidity of the contagion. It pervaded the whole army, and
proved fatal to most of the new raised troops.

The character of the military officer who dies in his bed, however
meritorious, is seldom crowned by the eclat of fame, which follows
the hero who perishes in the field. Thus this good man, qualified to
reap the fairest laurels in a day of battle, was immediately on his
arrival at the scene of action cut down by the hand of sickness, and
his memory almost extinguished by a succession of new characters
and events that crowded for attention. By the death of General
Thomas and the reduced state of the Americans, they were far from
being in any preparation for the reception of General Carleton, whose
arrival they momently expected. They had nothing to hope -- an
immediate surrender to mercy was their only resource. On this they
had determined, when to their surprise and joy they were informed
that all further pursuit was relinquished and that the Canadians and
British troops had precipitately retreated.

Thus the remnant of the broken continental army was left at full liberty
to escape in the best manner they could from other impending
dangers. From the nature of the grounds, and from the neighborhood
of the savages, from their weak, sickly, and reduced state, their
retreat was extremely difficult. But in scattered parties they reached
Crown Point in a very feeble condition. After this series of successful
efforts, all farther thoughts of the reduction and conquest of Canada
were for the present laid aside. General Carleton had repaired to
Quebec. General Phillips with a considerable force made winter
quarters at Montreal. And General Burgoyne took passage for
England. Both these officers had been very active in aid of Carleton,
through the campaign of 1776.

The defeat of the Americans in Canada and the advantages gained by

the British arms in the Jerseys, and indeed for some months in every
other quarter, gave to the royal cause an air of triumph. The brilliant
hopes formed from these circumstances by the calculators of events
for the ensuing spring, led the ministry and the army, the nation and
their Sovereign to flatter themselves that only one more campaign
would be necessary for the entire subjugation of America. The
vicissitudes of fortune, that hourly could or brighten all human affairs,
soon convinced them that this was but the triumph of a day. The new
year opened in a reversive view. A spirited movement of General
Washington at this important crisis had a most happy effect. A single
incident gave a different face to the affairs of the colonies, in a shorter
time than could have been imagined, after the ruinous appearance of
everything at the close of the campaign.

On the evening of December 25, General Washington in a most

severe season crossed the Delaware with a part of his army, then
reduced to less than 2000 men in the whole. They very unexpectedly
landed near Trenton. Colonel Rhal, an officer of decided bravery,
commanded a detachment of 1200 Hessians stationed there, where
they lay in perfect security. It was near morning before they were
alarmed. The surprise was complete; the resistance small. Rhal was
mortally wounded, and his whole corps surrendered prisoners of war.
After the fatigue, the hazards, and the success of the night, General
Washington with his party and his prisoners, consisting of the three
regiments of Rhal, Lofbourg, and Knyphausen, recrossed the river
before eight in the morning, with little or no loss.

This adventure gave an astonishing spring to the spirits of the

American army and people, a short time before driven to the brink of
despair. They had viewed the Hessians as a most terrific enemy, and
in conjunction with the veterans of Britain, as an invulnerable foe. To
see such a body of them surprised in their camp, and yielding
themselves prisoners to the shreds of an American army inspired
them with a boldness that an action of the greatest magnitude might
not have awakened in different circumstances. General Washington
did not sit down in Philadelphia satisfied with the eclat of this
enterprise, but in a few days again passed the Delaware and took
post at Trenton.

The British army elated by success had lain carelessly cantoned in

small divisions, in a line extending through New Jersey to New York.
General Howe was afterwards severely censured by his employers
for his neglect in not crossing the Delaware while he had the promise
of the most brilliant success from his own arms. The panic of the
Pennsylvanians had inspired most of them with a disposition to
succumb to any terms he should impose, which ought to have been
an additional stimulus to have pursued his good fortune. Nor was he
less censured for his unguarded cantonments, through such an
extensive line as the whole length of the Jerseys. [See trial and
defense of General Howe.]
General Washington moved on from Trenton to Princeton by a
circuitous march, to avoid engaging the British or being hemmed in
near Trenton. He suddenly attacked the British encampment at
Princeton, while the main body of the British army had marched to
Trenton, with design to dislodge the Americans from that post. From
Princeton the American army moved to Elizabethtown. Animated by
success, warmed by bravery, and supported by fortitude, they
gathered strength as they moved, and gained some signal
advantages in several places on the Jersey side of the river; and in
their turn pursued the King's troops with as much rapidity as they had
recently fled before them; while the British, as if seized with a general
panic, made but a feeble resistance.

After many marches, counter-marches, and skirmishes, the strength

of the British force was collected at Brunswick, a town of the Jerseys,
about 60 miles from Philadelphia and 35 from New York. They
continued their headquarters there the remainder of the winter; but
they were not without apprehensions for the safety of their troops and
their magazines, even at this distance from Philadelphia,
notwithstanding the contempt with which they had but a short time
before, viewed the broken, disheartened remains of a continental
army, which they had pursued into the city.

The British were indeed very far superior to the Americans in every
respect necessary to military operations, except the revivified
courage and resolution, the result of sudden success after despair. In
this, the Americans at the time yielded the palm to none; while the
confidence of their antagonists apparently diminished, and victory
began by them to be viewed at a distance.

The waste of human life from various causes, through the vicissitudes
of this winder was not inconsiderable on either side. But the success
of the American arms through the Jerseys was in some measure
damped by the death of the brave General Mercer of Virginia, who fell
at Princeton, in an action made memorable by the loss of so gallant
an officer. His distinguished merit was gratefully acknowledged by
Congress in the provision afterwards made for the education and
support of the youngest son of his family.

The fortunate movements of the Americans at this critical era had the
usual effect on public opinion. Such is human nature, that success
ever brightens the talents of the fortunate commander, and applause
generally outruns the expectations of the ambitious. General
Washington, popular before, from this period became the idol of his
country, and the admiration of his enemies. His humanity to the
prisoners who fell into his hands was a contrast to the severities
suffered by those captured at Fort Washington, and the victims in
other places that fell under the power of either Hessians or Britons.
In a book of general orders belonging to Colonel Rhal, found after the
action at Trenton, it was recorded that "His Excellency the commander
in chief orders that all Americans found in arms, not having an officer
with them, shall be immediately hanged." [The intimation of Lord
Cornwallis afterwards to the commander of a party sent out, much
superior to the Americans they expected to meet, was not more
humane. His Lordship observed that "he wanted no prisoners."

On the contrary, the lenity shown by General Washington towards the

loyalists captured by his soldiers, disarmed the prejudices of many,
and multitudes flocked to the American standard, who, in the
beginning of the dispute, were favorers of the royal cause, and within
a few months had been ready to throw themselves into the arms of
Great Britain. But every favorable impression was erased and every
idea of submission annihilated by the indiscriminate ravages of the
Hessian and British soldiery in their route through the Jerseys. The
elegant houses of some of their own most devoted partisans were
bunt. Their wives and daughters pursued and ravished in the woods
to which they had fled for shelter. Many unfortunate fathers, in the
stupor of grief, beheld the misery of their female connections, without
being able to relieve them, and heard the shrieks of infant innocence,
subjected to the brutal lust of British grenadiers or Hessian Yaughers.
In short, it may be difficult for the most descriptive pen to portray the
situation of the inhabitants of the Jerseys and the neighborhood of
their state. The confusion of parties, the dismay of individuals, who
were still serving in the remnant of the American army, whose dearest
connections were scattered through the country, and exposed to the
danger of plunder and misery, from the hostile inroads of a victorious
army, can be imagined only by those whose souls are susceptible at
once of the noblest and the tenderest feelings. Many of this
description were among the brave officers who had led the fragments
of a fugitive army across the Delaware, and sheltered in the city of
Philadelphia, had by flight escaped a total excision.

But after escaping the perilous pursuit, there appeared little on which
to ground any rational hope of effectually counteracting the designs of
their enemies. They found Congress had retreated, and that the
inhabitants of the city were agitated and divided. Several of the more
wealthy citizens secured their property by renouncing the authority of
Congress and acknowledging themselves the subjects of the Crown.
Others availed themselves of a proclamation of pardon, published by
the British commander, and took protection under the royal standard,
for personal security.

Several officers of high character and consideration were on the point

of pursuing the same steps, previous to the action at Trenton, from
the anxiety they felt for their families, despair of the general cause,
danger of the city, or the immediate military executions that might
take place when the victorious army should cross the river, which
they momently expected. Why this was not done remains involved
among the fortuitous events which often decide the fate of armies or
of nations, as it were by accident. The votaries of blind chance, or
indeed the more sober calculators on human events, would have
pronounced the fortune of the day was in the hands of the British
commander. Why he did not embrace her tenders while it was in his
power, no one can tell; nor why he stopped short on the borders of
the river, as if afraid the waters of the Delaware, like another Red
Sea, would overwhelm the pursuers of the injured Americans, who
had in many instances as manifestly experienced the protecting hand
of Providence, as the favored Israelites.

The neglect of so fair an opportunity, by a single effort, to have totally

destroyed or dispersed the American army, or in the language of
administration, to have cut off the hydra head of rebellion, by the
subjugation of the capital city, was viewed in the most unpardonable
light by his employers They were not yet fully apprised of the spirit of
Americans. Their ideas did not quadrate with those of a distinguished
military officer, well acquainted with the country, who observed in a
letter to a friend, [See a letter from General Charles Lee to the Duke
of Richmond, October 1774.] "it is no exaggeration to assert that
there are 200,000 strong-bodied, active yeomanry ready to encounter
all hazards and dangers, ready to sacrifice all considerations, rather
than surrender a title of the rights which they have derived from God
and their ancestors." Subsequent events will prove that he had not
formed a mistaken opinion of the resolution and prowess of the
Americans. It will be seen that they were far from relinquishing their
claim to independence, by the ill success of a single campaign. The
tardy conduct of Sir William Howe was reprehended with severity;
now was he ever able to justify or vindicate himself, either to
administration or to the world.

From these and other circumstances, the character of Sir William

Howe depreciated in proportion to the rising fame of the American
commander in chief, his rival in glory, and his competitor for the
crown of victory, on a theater that soon excited the curiosity, and
awakened the ambition of the heroes and princes of Europe.

Indeed it must be acknowledged that General Howe had innumerable

difficulties to surmount, notwithstanding the number of his troops. He
was at a distance from his employers, who were ignorant of his
situation, and unable to support him as emergencies required. He
was in an enemy's country, where every acquisition of forage or
provisions, was procured at the expense or hazard of life or
reputation. A considerable part of his army was composed of
discontented foreigners, who, disappointed of the easy settlements
they had been led to expect, from the conquest of rebels, and the
forfeiture of their estates, -- their former poverty not mitigated, or their
yoke of slavery meliorated, in the service of their new masters -- they
were clamorous for pay, and too eager for plunder to be kept within
the rules of disciplines. And their alien language and manners
disgusting to their British comrades, a constant bickering was kept up
between them.

Nor was the British commander less embarrassed by the Tories, who
from every state had fled from the resentment of their countrymen
and hung upon his hands for subsistence. On their fidelity or their
information, he could make little dependence. Many of them had
never possess property at all, others irritated by the loss of wealth;
both were continually urging him to deeds of cruelty, to which he did
not seem naturally inclined. AT the same time, he was sensible that
the hopes of his nation would sink by the protraction of a war which
they had flattered themselves might be concluded with the utmost
facility and expedition.

There were many concurring circumstances to lead the world to

conclude that Sir William Howe was not qualified, either by education
or habits of life, for the execution of an object of such magnitude as
the restoration of the revolted colonies to obedience, and
dependence on the Crown of Britain. "He fought as a soldier and a
servant to his king, without other principle than that of passive
obedience. The immensity of the prospect before him embarrassed
his mind, clouded his understanding; and, too much engrossed by his
bottle and his mistress, he frequently left his orders and his letters to
be fabricated by subordinate officers; and seemed at some times to
sink into stupor or indolence, at others, brave and cool as Julius
Caesar."

If these traits of the character of the British commander are just and
impartial, as said to be by one of his former associates, [See letter of
General Lee, Note 18 at the end of this chapter, which discovered the
temper and character of the writer, as well as of Sir William Howe.]
the world need be at no loss why such instances of shameful outrage
and rapine appeared wherever his army entered; or why, when he had
driven the Americans over the Delaware, he did not pursue and
complete the business, by a triumphal entrance into Philadelphia, and
the total destruction of General Washington and his remaining troops.

No military character ever had a fairer opportunity (as observed

above) to place the martial laurel on his brow, than was presented to
General Howe on the banks of the Delaware; but he suffered it to
wave at a distance, without the resolution to seize it. And instead of a
chaplet of glory, he reaped only the hatred of America, the loss of
esteem and reputation in England, and disgrace and censure from his
parliamentary masters.

The negligence of Sir William Howe gave an opportunity to the

Americans to recover the energies of their former courage. The
hopeless prospect that had beclouded their minds, vanished on the
successful termination of a single enterprise projected by

the commander in chief, and executed with resolution and

magnanimity by officers who had been almost reduced to
despondency.

The surprise of Trenton saved the army, the city, and in some degree,
the reputation of the commander in chief, which frequently depends
more on the fortunate exigencies of a moment than on superior
talents. The world ever prone to neglect the unfortunate, however
brave, amiable, or virtuous, generally pays its idolatrous homage to
those elevated by the favors of the ideal deity to the pinnacle of honor.
Yet real merit usually commands the plaudit of posterity, however it
may be withheld by contemporaries, from rivalry or envy.
Perhaps there are no people on earth, in whom a spirit of enthusiastic
zeal is so readily enkindled, and burns so remarkably conspicuous,
as among the Americans. Any fortuitous circumstance that holds out
the most distant promise of a completion of their wishes is pushed
with an ardor and unanimity that seldom fails of success. This
characteristic trait may in some measure account for the rapidity with
which everything has been brought to maturity there, from the first
settlement of the colonies.

The energetic operation of this sanguine temper was never more

remarkably exhibited than in the change instantaneously wrought in
the minds of men by the capture of Trenton at so unexpected a
moment. From the state of mind bordering on despair, courage was
invigorated, every countenance brightened, and the nervous arm
was outstretched, as if by one general impulse, all were determined
to drive the hostile invaders, that had plundered their villages, and
dipped the remorseless sword in the bosom of the innocent victims of
their fury, from off the American shores.

But we shall see in the subsequent pages of these memoirs that they
had yet many years to struggle with the dangers, the chances, and
miseries of war, before an extensive country, convulsed in every part,
was restored to tranquility. Agonizing amid the complicated difficulties
of raising, paying, and keeping an army in the field, it is easy to
conceive it was not with much facility that money was drawn from the
pockets of the rich for the support of the public cause, at the hazard
of receiving a script of depreciated paper in lieu of silver and gold.

A nominal substitute for specie has often its temporary advantages,

and when not extended too far, its permanent ones. But it is oftener
attended with a great balance of evil. its deceptive value often
plunges a great part of the community into ruin, and corrupts the
morals of the people before they are apprehensive of the danger.
Yet without the expedient of a paper currency, the Americans could
never have supported an army, or have procured the necessaries of
life from day to day. Experience had before taught them the
pernicious effects of a paper medium, without funds sufficient for its
redemption; but the peculiar exigencies of their situation left them no
other resources.

The United States had engaged in a hazardous enterprise, in which all

was at stake. Deficient as they were in the means necessary to
support a war, against a wealthy and potent nation, they yet stood
alone, uncertain whether any other power would aid their cause or
view them wit that degree of consideration that might obtain a credit
for foreign loans. It was an interesting spectacle to all such nations as
had colonies of their own to view such an unexpected spirit of
resistance and revolt in the Americans, as might be contagious and
probably produce commotions as much to be dreaded by them as the
alienation of the thirteen colonies was by England. The most
judicious statesmen in America were sensible that much time must
elapse and many event stake place before any foreign stipulations
could be effected. They were therefore impelled by the peculiar
circumstances of their situation to resort to this dangerous expedient,
or relinquish the contest. No wise legislator, no experienced
statesman, no man of principle would have recourse to a measure
fraught with such uncertain consequences but from that necessity
which in human affairs sometimes precludes all deliberation between
present utility and distant events which may accrue.

In consequence of this dilemma, Congress had emitted sums to a vast

amount in paper bills, with a promise on the face of the bill of
payment in specie at some distant period. This circumstance was
alarming to the avaricious and the wealthy, who immediately withdrew
their gold and silver from circulation. This and other combining
circumstances, among which the immense sums counterfeited in New
York by the British and thrown into the colonies, produced an
immediate and an astonishing depreciation. At the same time, the
widow and the orphan were obliged to receive the interest of their
property, deposited for security in the public treasuries, according to
the nominal sum on the ace of the bills; by which they and other
classes were reduced to extreme necessity. The operative effects of
this paper medium, its uses, its depreciation, and total annihilation,
will be seen hereafter, when the credit of the circulating paper had
sunk so low that no one presumed to offer it in barter of any
commodity. All public demands were consolidated by government at a
very great discount, and public securities given to those who had
demands for services or loans, and the faith of Congress pledge for
their payment in full value, as soon as practicable. [ See Note 19 at
the end of this chapter.]

The honor and the fate of the commander in chief had been daily
hazarded by the unrestrained license of soldiers with whom it was
optional to stay a few days longer, or to withdraw after the short term
of their enlistment had expired, however imminent the dangers might
be that threatened their country. Yet the establishment of a
permanent army was not more ardently wished by General
Washington than by every judicious man in America. But the work,
though not insurmountable, was attended with complicated
difficulties. The reluctance felt through the class of men from which an
army was to be drawn to enlist for an indefinite term, as apparent to
all. The precarious resources for the support of an army, which at that
time depended only on a depreciating medium, could not be
concealed, and were discouraging indeed. At the same time, it was a
subject too delicate to expatiate on, as the more it was conversed
upon, the greater was the danger of defeating the desired object.
But, the firmness of Congress unshaken, and the legislatures of the
individual states equally zealous, while the people at large were
convinced of the utility of the measure, the object was in time
obtained, though not so rapidly as the exigencies of the day required.

********************

Note 17 In Congress, July 4, 1776

A declaration by the representatives of the United States of America in

general congress assembled.

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one

people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them
with another, and to assume among the powers of the Earth the
separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and nature's
God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind
requires, that they should declare the causes which impel them to the
separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal;
that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights:
that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness: that to
secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving
their just powers from the consent of the governed: and whenever
any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the
right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new
government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing
its powers in such form as to them shall seem most likely to effect
their safety and happiness. Prudence indeed will dictate that
governments long established should not be changed for light and
transient causes; and accordingly, all experience hath shown that
mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than
to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are
accustomed; but when a long trains of abuses and usurpations,
pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them
under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty to throw off
such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.
Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies, and such is
now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems
of government. The history of the present king of Great Britain is a
history of repeated injuries and usurpations; all having in direct object
the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states: to prove
this, let facts to submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and
necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate and

pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his
assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly
neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other laws, for the accommodation of large

districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the rights of
representation in the legislature; a right inestimable to them, and
formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual,

uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records,
for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his
measures.

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, with

manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time after such dissolution, to cause others
to be erected, whereby the legislative powers, incapable of
annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise --
the state remaining in the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of
invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states; for that

purpose, obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners, refusing
to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the
conditions of new appropriations of lands.

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by refusing to assent

to laws for establishing judiciary powers.
He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of
their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of

officers, to harass our people, and eat out their subsistence.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the
consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior to,
the civil power.

He has combined with others, to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to

our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws, giving his assent
to their pretended acts of legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment for any murders
which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states:

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing taxes on us without our consent:

For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefit of trial by jury:

For transporting us beyond seas, to be tried for pretended offenses:

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring

province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging
its boundaries, so as to render it at once an example and fit
instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into their colonies.

For taking away our charters abolishing our most valuable laws, and
altering fundamentally the forms of our governments:

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves

invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his

protection, and waging war against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts bunt our towns, and
destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries, to

complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun
with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the
most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized
nation.

He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high

seas, to bear arms against their country, to become the executioners
of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has

endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless
Indian savages, whose Known rule of warfare is an undistinguished
destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions.

In every stage of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress, in

the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered
only by repeated injury. A prince, who character is thus marked by
every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free
people.

Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We

have warned them, for time to time, of attempts, by their legislature,
to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us; we have reminded
them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here; we
have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity. And we have
conjured them, by the tie of common kindred, to disavow these
usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and
correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and
consanguinity. We must therefore acquiesce in the necessity which
denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of
mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.

We therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in

general congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the
world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the
authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and
declare that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE
AND INDEPENDENT STATES; and 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 ought to be totally
dissolved; and that, as free and independent states, they have full
power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish
commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent
states may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a
firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually
pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

Signed by order and in behalf of the congress

John Hancock, president

Attest: Charles Thompson, secretary

**************************

Note 18

Copy of a letter from General Lee to Doctor B. Rush. See life and
memoirs of General Lee.

"Camp at Valley Forge, June 4, 1778.

"My dear Rush,

"Though I had no occasion for fresh assurances of your friendship, I

cannot help being much pleased with the warmth which your letter,
delivered to me by Mr. H__, breathes; and I hope, it is unnecessary to
assure you that my sentiments, with respect to you, are
correspondent.

"You will think it odd that I should seem to be an apologist for General
Howe. I know not how it happens. But when I have taken prejudices
in favor or against a man, I find it a difficulty in shaking them off.
From my first acquaintance with Mr. Howe, I like him. I thought him
friendly, candid, good natured, brave, and rather sensible than the
reverse. I believe still that he is naturally so; but a corrupt or more
properly, no education, the fashion of the times, and the reigning
idolatry among the English (particularly the soldiery) for every
sceptered calf, wolf, or ass, have so totally perverted his
understanding and heart that private friendship has not force
sufficient to keep a door open for the admittance of mercy towards
political heretics. He was besides persuaded that I was doubly
criminal, both as a traitor and deserter. In short, so totally was he
inebriated with this idea that I am convinced he would have thought
himself both politically and morally damned had he acted any other
part than what he did. He is besides the most indolent of mortals;
never took further pains to examine the merits or demerits of the
cause in which he was engaged, than merely to recollect that Great
Britain was said to be the mother country, George III king of Great
Britain, that the Parliament was called the representatives of Great
Britain, that the King and Parliament formed the supreme power, that
a supreme power is absolute and uncontrollable, that all resistance
must consequently be rebellion; but above all, that he was a soldier,
and bound to obey all cases whatever.

"These are his notions, and this his logic. But through these
absurdities, I could distinguish, when he was left to himself, rays of
friendship and good nature breaking out. It is true, he was seldom
left to himself; for never poor mortal, thrust into high station, was
surrounded by such fools and scoundrels. McKenzie, Balfour,
Galloway, were his counselors. They urged him to all his acts of
harshness. They were his scribes. All the damned stuff which was
issued to the astonished world was theirs. I believe he scarcely ever
read the letters he signed. You will scarcely believe it, but I can
assure you as a fact that he never read the curious proclamation
issued at the Head of Elk until three days after it was published. You
will say that I am drawing my friend Howe in more ridiculous colors
that he has yet been represented in; but this is his real character. His
is naturally good humored, complaisant, but illiterate and indolent to
the last degree, unless as an executive soldier, in which capacity he
is all fire and activity, brave and cool as Julius Caesar. His
understanding is, as I observed before, rather good than otherwise,
but was totally confounded and stupefied by the immensity of the talk
imposed upon him. He shut his eyes, fought his battles, frank his
bottle, had his little ___, advised with his counselors, received his
orders from North and Germaine, (one more absurd than the other)
took Galloway's opinion, shut his eyes, fought again, and is now, I
suppose, to be called to account for acting according to instructions.
But I believe his eyes are now opened. HE sees he has been an
instrument of wickedness and folly. Indeed, when I observed it to
him, he not only took patiently the observation, but indirectly assented
to the truth of it. He made, at the same time, as far as his mauvais
honte would permit, an apology for his treatment of me.

"Thus far with regard to Mr. Howe. You are struck with the great
events, changes, and new characters which have appeared on the
stage since I saw you last. But I am more struck with the admirable
efficacy of blunders. It seemed to be a trial of skill which party should
outdo the other; and it is hard to say which played the deepest
strokes; but it was a capital one of ours, which certainly gave the
happy turn which affairs have taken. Upon my soul, it was time for
fortune to interpose, or we were inevitably lost; but this we will talk
over another time. I suppose we shall see one another at
Philadelphia very soon, in attendance. God bless you!

"Yours affectionately,

"Charles Lee."

**************************

Note 19

The iniquitous conduct of speculators and swindlers to secure to

themselves the possession of most of the public securities will leave
a stain on a large class of people who by every art endeavored to
sink the faith of Congress. Indeed their attempts to injure the credit of
all public bodies were attended with the most pernicious
consequences to the honest and unsuspecting holders of public
paper. By every insidious practice, they induced the ignorant and
necessitous to part with their securities for the most trifling
considerations, to supply their immediate wants. Thus afterwards,
when a new constitution of government was formed and a funding
system created, no discrimination was made in favor of the original
holders, who had dispossessed themselves of the public securities.
Those who had gained them by their artificial deception were
enriched beyond call calculation by subsequent circumstances. They
afterwards received the nominal value in specie, while many of the
former holders were reduced to extreme poverty.

It was pathetically observed by one who felt these inconveniences that

"the public securities, tied of their humble abodes, had soon fled to
the splendid seats of wealth and greatness; and that while they
remained with a class who had dearly earned them by their services,
no interest was promised, no time, place, or person ascertained, to
direct our application for payment. They fell into disgrace, which
concurring with our necessities, as they could yield no present
comfort or future hope, induced us to part with them for the most
trifling considerations. But when they had chosen their elevated
residence, their credit revived, and provision was made for the
payment of interest on them. We, in event, literally sold them for
nothing, and are obliged to pay their present holders an annual sum
for keeping them in possession; for many of us have, or must soon
pay for the interest of them, a sum nearly or quite equal to the money
given to purchase them, and still be annually taxed to discharge the
interest and principal of said securities."

This is an anticipation of what literally took place afterwards, though it

is but justice to observe that Mr. Madison of Virginia, a distinguished
member of Congress, and several others of that body, left no rational
argument untried to procure a discrimination when the funding
system was about to be introduced in 1788, that would have made
some equitable compensation to the original holders of public
securities, and prevented a sudden accumulation of wealth to a class
of men who had, many of them, never earned by their own private
industry, or their services to the public, sufficient for a competent
support. They grew rich on the property of those who had suffered in
the service of their country, who were left to complain, without a
possibility of redress.
_____________

Chapter Ten: Desultory circumstances. Skirmishes and events.

General Howe withdraws from the Jerseys. Arrives at the River Elk.
Followed by Washington. The Battle of Brandywine. General
Washington defeated, retreats to Philadelphia. Obliged to draw of his
army. Lord Cornwallis takes possession of the city. Action at
Germantown, Red Bank, etc. The British Army take winter quarters in
Philadelphia. The Americans encamp at Valley Forge. General
Washington's situation not eligible. De Lisle's letters. General
Conway resigns. The Baron de Steuben appointed Inspector General
of the American army.

In the beginning of the year 1777, the spirits of the Americans were
generally re- animated by fresh hopes, in consequence of the
measures taken by Congress to establish a permanent army until the
conclusion of the war, and still more by their sanguine expectations of
success from the negotiations and prospects of an alliance with
France.

A solemn confederation, consisting of a number of articles by which

the United States should in future be governed had been drafted,
discussed, and unanimously signed by all the delegates in Congress,
in October 1776. This instrument was sent to each legislature in the
thirteen states and approved and afterwards ratified by the individual
governments. After this, the Congress of the United States thought
proper to appoint commissioners to the Court of France, when
fortunately a load of money was negotiated on the faith of the United
States, and permission obtained for the reception of American ships
of war and the sale of prizes that might be captured by them and
carried into any of the ports of France. They were also encouraged
to hope for still further assistance from the generosity of that nation.

The growth of the infant marine of the United States had been so
rapid and so successful had been the adventurers in this early stage
of the war that it was rationally concluded it could not be many years
before the navy of America might make a respectable figure among
the nations.

It was not expected in Great Britain that the colonies could thus early
have acquired a naval force of the least consideration. In
consequence of this idea, a great number of British ships and
transports that went out slightly armed or not armed at all were this
year captured on their way to America. So bold and adventurous
were the American privateers and their public ships that the domestic
trade of Britain was rendered insecure; and a convoy became
necessary to protect the linen ships from Dublin to Newry: a
circumstance that never took place. [British Annual Register, 1777.]
The successful depredations also on the British West India trade
were felt through Great Britain in an alarming degrees, and shocked
their commerce so far as to occasion sudden and frequent
bankruptcies in London, Bristol, and almost all the great marts of the
nation.

Thus the colonies were filled with everything necessary for carrying on
a war, or that furnished them the luxuries of life. But the sudden
acquisition of wealth, which in consequence of unexpected success
flowed into the lap of individuals, so much beyond their former fortune
or ideas, was not indeed very favorable to the virtue or manners of
the possessors. It had a tendency to contract the mind, and led it to
shrink into selfish views and indulgences, totally inconsistent with
genuine republicanism. The coffers of the rich were not unlocked for
the public benefit, but their contents were liberally squandered in
pursuit of frivolous enjoyments, to which most of them had heretofore
been strangers.

This avaricious spirit, indeed, somewhat retarded the measures

contemplated by Congress, who had determined that the army in
future should stand on a more stable footing. They had directed that
88 battalions should be raised and kept in full pay until the close of
the war; and as an encouragement to enlist, they promised a certain
allotment of lands to both officers and soldiers, at the commencement
of peace. Yet the recruiting service went on heavily for a time, and at
an immense expense to the United States. But among a people
whose personal liberty had been their proudest boast, the above was
not the sole cause of the difficulty of raising a permanent army. The
novelty of being enchained to a standing army was disgusting. They
generally revolted at the idea of enlisting for an indefinite term. Thus
the army still remained incomplete, and the militia were again called
out as before. In that mode there was no want of zeal and alacrity.
Great numbers always appeared ready for any temporary service.

During the winter of this year, the British commander did not attempt
anything of greater magnitude than the destruction of the American
magazines. He effected his purpose at Peekskill, at Courtland
Manor; and about the middle of April, he sent on a detachment under
the command of Governor Tryon to the little town of Danbury, on the
borders of Connecticut, where a considerable quantity of provisions
and other articles had been deposited for the use of the American
army. He considered it of great importance to cut off these resources
before the opening of the spring campaign.

In conjunction with Sir William Erskine and Brigadier General Agnew,

Governor Tryon, who had embodied near 2000 royalists, was vested
with the principal command, on the trivial expedition to Danbury. He
executed his orders with alacrity. They destroyed a few hogsheads of
rum and sugar, a considerable quantity of grain and other provisions,
about 1700 tents, and plundered and burnt a number of houses in the
town of Danbury. But their retreat to their shipping was intercepted by
the militia of the country, drawn out by the Generals Wooster and
Silliman. A small detachment of continental troops commanded by
General Arnold, with a party of recruiting officers, joined them, an a
encounter ensued, when much bravery was exhibited on both sides.
General Wooster, an aged and experienced officer, and a very worthy
man, was mortally wounded. General Arnold had his horse shot out
under him at the moment a soldier had his bayonet lifted for his
destruction; but with surprising agility, he disengaged himself from his
horse, and drew a pistol that laid his enemy dead at his feet. On the
third day after his landing, Governor Tryon again reached the
shipping and re-embarked his troops with inconsiderable loss, though
exceedingly fatigued by a march of 30 miles, harassed the whole time
by an enemy arranged on each hand, and pressed in the rear by
recruits hourly coming in to the assistance of his opponents. [It has
been acknowledge by some British historians that their loss more
than counterbalanced the advantages gained in this expedition to
Danbury.]

Within a few days, reprisals were made for this successful feat of
Tryon, by the more brilliant enterprise of Colonel Meiggs, show, with
only 170 men, landed on the southern part of Long Island, surprised
the enemy lying at Sag Harbor, burnt 12 armed vessels, captured the
sailors, destroyed the forage and stores on the east part of the island,
and returned to Guilford, about 90 miles distance, within 30 hours
from the time of his departure from thence. He brought with him the
trophies of his

success, without the loss of a man. As no action of importance was

exhibited for several months, these smaller depredations and
inconsiderable skirmishes served only to keep the spirits in play, and
preserve the mind from that lethargic state, which

inaction or want of object creates.

The plan digested for the summer campaign among the British officers
was to gain possession of Philadelphia, to command the central
colonies, and to drive the Americans from all their posts in the
province of Canada. Some circumstances had taken place that
seemed to favor these designs. Confident of his success from his
superior numbers in the field, General Howe, for a time, exercised all
the artifices of an experienced commander to bring General
Washington to a decisive engagement. But, from a perfect command
of his temper, and a judicious arrangement of the few continental
troops and the militia he had in aid, the American chieftain defeated
every measure practiced to bring him to a general action. He placed
about 2000 men in Princeton, and with the main body of his army
took his stand on the high and advantageous grounds in the
neighborhood, and made all possible preparation for defense. This
determined line of conduct in General Washington gave a new turn to
British operations. On June 19, General Howe decamped from
Brunswick and removed to Amboy, with every appearance of a
speedy embarkation. His troops as usual committed every outrage
on their way, and as if instigated by despair of becoming masters of
the country, and envious of the progress of arts and sciences in
America, the colleges and public libraries were burnt, all public
buildings and places of worship swept away, and nothing that had the
appearance of distinguished elegance escaped. But the mind and the
pen weary of the detail of destruction. It is enough to observe that the
British army in their retreat left every trait of desolation and barbarism
behind them.

The maneuvers of the British commander led to the belief, and

everything wore the strongest appearance that he was about to take
a final leave of the Jerseys. The illusion succeeded so far as to
induce General Washington to send a body of 3000 men,
commanded by Generals Maxwell, Conway, and Lord Stirling, with
the design to attack the rear of the march. General Howe, apprised
of this movement, hastily returned to the charge. He dispatched Lord
Cornwallis on a circuitous route, who soon came up with Lord Stirling,
strongly posted in a wood.

The Americans determined to dispute the ground with Cornwallis; but

the ardor of the British troops and the rivalry of the Hessians obliged
them soon to quit their advantageous post and retreat with
precipitation. The loss the Americans sustained was not
inconsiderable; they suffered greatly, both from the extreme heat of
the season and the valor of their antagonists. From this and some
other circumstances, it was for a time generally believed that the late
movement of General Howe and

his army was but a feint to draw General Washington to an action,

rather than from a fixed design immediately to evacuate the state of
New Jersey. Convinced of this, Washington drew in his lines and
recovered his camp on the hills, determined to persevere in his
defensive system, until some more advantageous opportunity should
justify the hazard of a general engagement.

It would undoubtedly have been highly imprudent for General Howe at

this time to have persisted in pushing his way to the Delaware
through a country disgusted and alienated by the barbarity of his
troops. Most of the inhabitants of this state were now armed for
defense. Inflamed by resentment from the suffering of the last year,
impelled by necessity from the impediments in the way of all private
occupations, and fired by a love of glory, they were now ardent for
action, in proportion as they had been heretofore remiss; and came to
the field prepared to conquer or die in defense of their country. At the
same time, General Washington was daily gaining strength by the
arrival of fresh troops from various other quarters.

The British commander accordingly thought proper, about

midsummer, to decamp in earnest. He drew off his whole force as
privately as possible to New York; thence embarked and sailed from
Sandy Hook July 23. The destination of the fleet and army was kept
so profoundly secret that for some time after their embarkation every
capital on the continent was apprehensive that they should be the

object of the next visit from a potent armament that seemed at a loss
where to direct their operations. This expectation occasioned a
general anxiety until the latter part of August, when the fleet appeared
in the Chesapeake, and the army soon after landed at the head of the
River Elk. On his arrival there, General Howe immediately published
a proclamation in which he assured the inhabitants everywhere of
safety and protection, provided they were not found in arms, and
promised pardon to all officers and soldiers who should surrender to
the royal army.

Indeed, his disposition to clemency appeared so conspicuous on this

first arrival that it prevented the entire depopulation of the adjacent
parts of Maryland, Pennsylvania, and the lower counties of Delaware;
the inhabitants of which, on the first appearance of so formidable a
foe in their neighborhood, were struck with consternation, and on the
point of abandoning their habitations.

It was now obvious that the possession of the city of Philadelphia was
the stake for which both armies played. General Washington had
moved with the greatest part of his troops for the defense of that
elegant city and had by detached parties embarrassed the march of
the British army from the River Elk to the Brandywine. In the
neighborhood of the last, the two armies met, and on September 11
came to a general engagement. The battle was fought with bravery,
and sustained with spirit on both sides; but the fortune of the day
declared against the Americans, yet not so decidedly as the sanguine
expectations of their antagonists had led them to hope from such an
event. But it gave them an astonishing advantage in the minds of the
people through all the district of Pennsylvania; and enabled General
Howe with more facility to complete his enterprise. Many officers of
high rank on both sides suffered much in the spirited action at the
Brandywine. A few days after this affair, General Wayne, who had
concealed himself in a wood with 1500 men, in order to harass the
rear of the British, was discovered and attacked by Brigadier General
Grey, who had given orders that no alarm should be made by the use
of fire- arms. He made the onset about one o'clock in the morning;
and by more cruel exercise of the bayonet, several hundred
Americans were killed and wounded. The remainder, with difficulty,
escaped by flight.

Among others who suffered in the Battle of Brandywine, the Marquis

de la Fayette, a young nobleman of France, was dangerously
wounded. Warmed by an enthusiastic love of liberty, and animated
by a laudable ambition, this amiable young gentleman had left the
Court of France without leave of the King. Quitting the pleasures of
domestic felicity, he embarked at his own expense, and engaged in
the service of the United States at an early period of the war, when
the affairs of America wore the darkest aspect. His zeal and his
heroism to the conclusion of the contest placed the well-earned laurel
on his brow, and procured him the love, respect, and best wishes of
the people throughout America. Indeed, all the French officers in the
continental army, among whom were many of high consideration,
acquitted themselves with distinguished gallantry on this and many
other occasions, where the courage of the soldier, and the humanity
of the officer, were called into exercise.

General Washington, obliged to retreat in disorder and closely pursed

after the action, retired to Chester. He soon after, with his army,
reached Philadelphia. But the British commanders directed their
operations with so much judgment and success that before
September 26 Washington thought proper to evacuate the city. Lord
Cornwallis with the British grenadiers and two battalions of Hessians
on that day made a triumphal entry and took possession of the capital
of the United States.

The era was truly critical. Congress again found it necessary, a

second time, to desert the city, and now repaired to York Town for
safety. Dissensions ran high among the inhabitants of Philadelphia.
Some of the most opulent families were disaffected, and renounced
all adherence to the union; and several persons of different
descriptions, emboldened by the absence of Congress and the
success of the British arms, took this opportunity to declare in favor of
the royal cause. One of principal consideration among them went out
and conducted the King's troops into the city. Others declared
themselves zealously attached to the measures of administration and
equally disgusted with the opposition of the colonies. Among these
was Joseph Galloway, a member of Congress and Speaker of the
House of Representatives in Pennsylvania. He soon after repaired to
England, where he indefatigably exerted his abilities and influence
against his native country, on all occasions.

Besides those individual apostates, the Quaker interest had long

embarrassed every public measure in that colony. They were a large
and powerful body in the state of Pennsylvania; and, notwithstanding
their pacific principles, though not actually in arms, they at this time
took a decided part against the American cause. Their previous
conduct had drawn upon themselves many severities. Several of the
principal leaders had been imprisoned, and others sent out of the city
of Philadelphia, on the approach of the British army. Yet still they
refused the smallest submission to the present government and
appealed to the laws by which they claimed personal safety. But
whether from a consideration of the necessity of a temporary
suspension of law, in times of public and imminent danger, or whether
from the sanguine resolutions which operate on all parties when their
favorite system totters on the brink of ruin, little regard was paid even
to the legal claims of this body of citizens. Several persons of the first
distinction and character among them, notwithstanding their just and
sensible remonstrances, were sent off to Virginia to prevent the
influence they might have through a state, then the principal seat of
war.

From these political dissensions, the partial defeats, the loss of

Philadelphia, the slowness of recruits for permanent service, the
difficulty of obtaining supplies for the army from various causes, and
particularly from the monopolizing and avaricious spirit that was fast
gaining ground in America, and from delay, "the betrayer of all
confederations," a lowering aspect was cast over the operations of
America on every side. On the contrary, the British government, the
army, and their adherents, had much reasons to flatter themselves
with an idea of the speedy completion of their designs against the
United States. They were now in possession of the first city in the
union; General Clinton was in force at New York; General Vaughan on
the North River, with troops sufficient to sweep away the inhabitants
on both sides and to keep the adjacent country in awe. A large
detachment of the British army still held the possession of Newport.
Colonel Losbourg with a Hessian brigade in conjunction with them
was piratically plundering the neighboring coasts and burning the
scattered villages of the state of Rhode Island.

It is proper here to observe that soon after the British troops had taken
possession of Rhode Island, some animosities had arisen between
General How and Lord Percy, who commanded there. This was
occasioned by a requisition from Sir William Howe to His Lordship to
send him on 1500 men for the better defense of New York, and to aid
his operations in that quarter.

Lord Percy declined a compliance with this order, alleging as a reason

for this refusal that the Americans were rapidly collecting and
strengthening themselves in the town of Providence; that the number
of troops already there gave them reason to be apprehensive for the
safety of Newport. General Howe resented the refusal; threatened
Earl Percy with a trial for disobedience of orders, and reprimanded
him in language which the Earl thought derogatory to an officer of his
rank, character, and consequence. On this usage, which Lord Percy
considered very affrontive, he immediately wrote to his father the
Duke of Northumberland, requesting him, without delay, to obtain his
recall from the American service. Soon after this, he embarked for
England, having resigned his command to General Prescott.

His advance to the chief command of the troops on Rhode Island was
not long enjoyed by General Prescott, before a circumstance took
place which was sufficiently mortifying to himself and the British. In
the beginning of July 1777, Colon Barton, a provincial officer, and
several others, accompanied by only 38 men, embarked in several
boats from Warwick Neck, eluding the vigilance of the British ships
and guard boats, he and his party passed them in the dark and
landed on Rhode Island about 12 o'clock at night.

Colonel Barton had received some intelligence of the insecure

situation in which the British commander frequently lodged on the
island. On this information, he formed the bold design of surprising
and seizing him. This he effected with a facility beyond his own most
sanguine expectations. Having first secured the sentinel at the door,
he surprised General Prescott in his bed. One of his aids leaped from
a window in hopes of escape, but was prevented. Their design
accomplished, the little party hastened to their boats with all possible
expedition. Signals were made for an alarm on shore; but it was too
late. Baron and his party were out of danger. When they reached the
spot from whence they had set out on this adventure, a chariot was
prepared for the reception of General Prescott, in which he was
escorted safely from Warwick to Providence.

Colonel Barton received great applause from his countrymen for his
spirited and well executed enterprise. It was not indeed an objected
of much magnitude, but the previous circumstances of General
Prescott's conduct had been such as to render his capture a subject
of much exultation to the Americans. He had, while in command at
Newport, insulted and abused the inhabitants, ridiculed the American
officers, and set a price on some of their heads, particularly on that of
General Arnold, which Arnold retaliated with the advertisement of a
small price for the head of General Prescott.

The similarity of circumstances that attended the captures of generals

Prescott and Lee and their rank in the armies to which they
respectively belonged rendered it highly proper that an exchange
should have taken place immediately. It was, however, for a time
delayed; but finally, General Lee obtained his liberty in consequence
of this business.

The discouraging circumstances above related with regard to the

arrangements, military posts, and operations of the British from
Newport to New York, and from New York to Philadelphia gave very
promising prospects of success to the British in that part of America.
At the same time, General Burgoyne, with the flower of the British
army, the Canadian provincial, and hordes of savages that poured
down from beyond the lakes, was making advances, and in the
language of bombast and self-confidence, threatened destruction and
vengeance to any who should have hardihood enough to endeavor to
stop his progress or to oppose the authority under which he acted.
But notwithstanding the general wayward appearance of the affairs of
the United States, the legislatures, as we shall see, lost not their
magnanimity, the people their ardor, nor the army their valor. Not
disheartened by the circumstances o the late action at the
Brandywine or the loss of Philadelphia, General Washington, with his
brave troops, in numbers comparatively inconsiderable, kept the
British army in play, until the setting in of winter. Within a few days
after the surrender of Philadelphia, the Americans attacked the royal
camp at Germantown, situated about six miles from the city, where
the main body of the British army had taken their stand.

This was a very unexpected maneuver. The attempt was bold, and
the defense brave. The Americans for a time seemed to have greatly
the advantage; but the enterprise finally failed. They were obliged to
retreat in great confusion, after the heavy loss of many officers and
men. The disappointment of the Americans was in consequence of
the address and ability of Colonel Musgrove, who judiciously stood on
the defensive and check the progress of the continental troops until
General Grey and Brigadier General Agnew, with a large detachment,
came to his relief. A warm, but short action ensued; when the
Americans were totally routed and driven out of the field of action.

General Lee, who had not the highest opinion of General

Washington's military abilities, observed on this occasion "that by a
single stroke of the bathos, the partial victory at Germantown was
corrupted into a defeat. [General Lee's letters.] This was, however,
too severe a censure. A number of circumstances operated to blast
the hopes of the Americans, after the early promise of success. The
Britons themselves have given testimony to the bravery and good
conduct of Washington and his army on this occasion. One of their
writers had attested "in this action the Americans acted upon the
offensive; and though repulsed with loss showed themselves a
formidable adversary, capable of charging with resolution, and
retreating with order The hope therefore entertained from the effect
of any fair action with them, as decisive, and likely to put a speedy
termination to the war, was exceedingly abated."

The highest expectation had been formed on the reduction of

Philadelphia both by the foreign and internal foes of America.
Though both armies were fired with equal ardor and on all occasions
were equally ready for action, yet the repeated skirmishes for several
weeks in the neighborhood of the city, were not productive of any
very important consequences, except the loss of many brave men,
and several officers of great merit. None of these were more
distinguished and lamented than General Nash on the American side
and Brigadier General Agnew and Colonel Bird on the British line,
who lost their lives in the Battle of Germantown.

It was very important to the British commander after the above

transactions to open a free passage to Philadelphia by the Delaware,
in order to obtain supplies of provisions by water for their army. this
was impeded by the American shipping, and by several strong posts
held by the Americans on the river; the principal of which was Red
Bank. Here they had an opportunity of retrieving the recent disgrace of
their arms at Germantown. the Hessians under the command of
Colonel Donop, had the principal hand in this business. He crossed
the Delaware, with 1500 men, at Cooper's Ferry opposite
Philadelphia, and marched to attack the redoubts at Red Bank.

A cannonade was opened: the camp was attacked with spirit and
defended with equal gallantry by Colonel Greene of Rhode Island;
who replied to the summons of Count Donop to surrender, "that he
should defend the place to the last extremity." On this, the Hessians
attempted to storm the redoubts; but the assailants were obliged to
retreat in their turn. One Hessian brigade was nearly cut to pieces in
the action, and Count Donop mortally wounded and taken prisoner,
as were several other officers of consideration. The remainder
retreated with great precipitation through the night, leaving one half of
their party dead, wounded, or prisoners to the Americans; crossed
the river the next morning; and in this mortified situation, the remnant
who escaped entered Philadelphia. This important pass was a key to
the other posts on the river; and for its rave defense the officers and
soldiers were justly applauded, and Colonel Greene complimented by
Congress, with the present of an elegant sword.

After the action at Red Bank, the vigilance and caution of General
Washington could not be overcome by the valor and advantages of
his foes, so far as to induce him to hazard any action of
consequence. [For this, General Washington was very severely
censured by some; and even the legislature of the state of
Pennsylvania remonstrated to Congress and expressed their
uneasiness that the American commander should leave the capital in
possession of the enemy and retire to winter quarters. But his little
army, destitute of every necessary, without the possibility of a supply
at that season, as a sufficient apology.] The design of opening the
Delaware as not the principal object of the British commander. This
was effected without much difficulty, after the reduction of Mud
Island. From this strong post, the American's were obliged to retreat,
after a very manly resistance. They did not evacuate their works until
reduced to despair by some British ships advantageously playing
upon them. From the very superior advantages of their enemies in
many respects they were induced to set fire to everything within
reach; and after great slaughter they abandoned a place which had
already cost them too much in its defense.

In the struggle to open the Delaware, the Augusta and the Merlin, on
the part of Britain were lost; but the losses to the Americans were far
beyond those of the British. The Delaware frigate and some others
were captured, and several ships burnt by themselves to prevent their
falling into the hands of their enemies.
Nothing more decided than the above transactions took place this
season. The Delaware River thus cleared, and eligible winter
quarters secured for the King's troops, and the cold season fast
advancing, General Howe gave up the pursuit of the cautious and
wary Washington. He found it impossible with all his efforts to bring
him to another general action, while his own judgment, and that of the
most judicious of his officers, forbade it, and common prudence
dictated the probable disadvantages of such a movement. His
numbers were too small, and the wants of the army too many, to
hazard anything. The most prudent defense was the only line of
conduct left to the American commander.

These circumstances induced General Howe, about the middle of

December, to draw the main body of his army into the city of
Philadelphia. They were indeed unable longer to keep the field, being
very destitute of tents and other equipage necessary for the army in a
cold climate, at this inclement season.

Thus after the proud vaunts of victory and conquest, and the loss of
many gallant officers and brave men, the British commander had little
to boast at the conclusion of the campaign, but the possession of a
city abandoned by the best of its inhabitants, and the command of the
adjacent country, circumscribed within the narrow limits of 20 miles.
This was but a small compensation for the waste of life and treasure.
it was a gloomy picture of the termination of a campaign for Sir
William Howe to convey to his master and to his countrymen, after
the exultation for some partial successes had flattered them with the
highest hopes of speedy and complete victory. Yet, notwithstanding
these vauntings over a people, among whom there did not yet appear
a probability of complete subjugation by the sword, nor the smallest
traces of a disposition among the people of America, to yield
obedience to the laws and requisitions which the government of
Great Britain were attempting thus to enforce at the point of the
bayonet.
After Sir William Howe had retired and taken winter quarters in the
city, a novel scene, considering the weakness of the continental army,
was exhibited without. To the surprise and wonder of their foes, and
to the admiration of all mankind acquainted with the circumstances,
the Americans, nearly destitute of tents, poorly supplied with
provisions, almost without shoes, stockings, blankets, or other
clothing, cheerfully erected themselves huts of timber and brush, and
encamped for the winter at a place called Valley Forge, within 25
miles of the city of Philadelphia. Thus in the neighborhood of a
powerful British army, fearless of its numbers and strength, a striking
proof of their intrepidity in suffering, sand their defiance of danger,
was exhibited by a kind of challenge bidden to their enemies, not very
usual in similar situations. The commander in chief, and several of
the principal officers of the American army, in defiance of danger,
either to themselves or to such tender connections, sent for their
ladies from the different states to which they belonged, to pass the
remainder of the winter, and by their presence to enliven the gloomy
appearance of a hutted village in the woods, inhabited only by a
hungry and half-naked soldiery. [Nothing but the inexperience of the
American ladies and their confidence in the judgment of their
husbands could justify this hazard to their persons, and to their
feelings of delicacy.]

The resolution and patience of this little army surmounted every

difficulty. They waited long, amid penury, hunger, and cold, for the
necessary supplies which, in spite of the utmost exertions of the
several states, came in but too slowly. Such was the deficiency of
horses and wagons for the ordinary as well as extraordinary
occasions of the army, that the men in many instances cheerfully
yoked themselves to little carriages of their own construction. Others
loaded the wood and provisions on their backs for present supply, in
their extreme necessity. General Washington informed a committee
sent from Congress to inquire into the state of the army that some
brigades had been some days without meat, and that the common
soldiers had frequently been at his quarters to make known their
distresses. Unprovided with materials to raise their cold lodgment
from the ground, the dampness of the situation, and the wet earth on
which they lay occasioned sickness and mortality to rage among
them to an astonishing degree. "Indeed nothing could surpass their
suffering except the patience and fortitude with which it was endured
by the faithful part of the army. Those of a different character
deserted in great numbers." [See a letter from the committee sent
from Congress to Mr. Laurens, the president.]

In this weak and dangerous situation, the American army continued

encamped at Valley Forge from December until May, while the British
troops in high health and spirits lay in Philadelphia, without once
attempting to molest them. For this want of vigor and enterprise,
General Howe was severely and justly censured in Britain, blamed by
those interested in his success in America, and ridiculed by the
impartial observer in every quarter. By his negligence this winter, he
again undoubtedly lost the fairest opportunity of executing the
designs of his master and acquiring to himself much military fame.
But by wasting his time in effeminate and reprehensible pleasures, he
sunk his character as an officer; and few scrupled to assert that the
man of honor and valor was lost for a time, in the arms of a
handsome adulteress. Many of his officers followed his example, and
abandoned themselves to idleness and debauchery; while the
soldiers were left to indulge their own licentious habits.

At this period, though not attacked by a foreign foe, the situation of the
American commander in chief was really not very enviable. It
required the utmost prudence and address to keep together the
appearance of an army, under the complicated miseries they must
feel in the depth of winder, hungry and barefooted, whose fatiguing,
circuitous marches over the snowy path had been marked by their
bleeding feet, before they, in such a destitute predicament, pitched
their tents in the valley. The dilatory spirit of some, and the peculating
dispositions of other officers in the various public departments,
increased every difficulty with regard to clothing and subsistence. The
deplorable state of the sick, the corrupt conduct in some of the
hospitals, the want of discipline among the soldiers, the inexperience
of officers, the slowness of recruits, and the diminution of the old
army from various causes, were circumstances discouraging indeed;
and might have been considered, if not a balance, at least a weight in
the scale against the advantages and pride of high station. Yet these
were not all the embarrassments which the commander in chief had
to encounter. General Washington had his personal enemies to
combat: nor was he without his rivals for power and fame. [Both the
conduct and letters of General Lee had in several instances
confirmed the opinion that he was ambitious of obtaining the chief
command of the army of the United States; and doubtless he had a
party that for a short time flattered these expectations. AT this time,
indeed, he was a prisoner, but his correspondences were extensive.]

In all communities there are some restless minds, who create

jealousies and foment divisions, that often injure the best cause, and
the most unimpeachable character. And it may be observed that there
is every a spirit of intrigue and circumvention that runs parallel with
the passions of men. Thus the fortune of war is frequently changed
by dangerous emulations, and the beset systems of social and
political happiness overthrown, by the envy and resentment of little
minds, or the boundless ambition of more exalted souls. Nor was it
many years before American discovered she had in he bosom her
Caesars and her Catalines, as well as her Brutuses and her Catos.

Many persons were disgusted with the dictatorial powers vested in

General Washington, after the action at Trenton, which they alleged
were at his own request. These were ample indeed. He was
empowered by Congress "to reform and new model the military
arrangements, in such manner as he judged best of the public
service." He was also vested with several other discretionary powers
[See resolves of Congress.] Congress had indeed limited his power
to six months; but exigencies of the highest necessity had urged him
sometimes to exercise it in a manner too arbitrary for the principles
and dispositions of Americans, unused to the impressment of their
property or the use of armies.
In this state of affairs, the commander was attacked by anonymous
letters fictitious signatures, and incendiary suggestion. He was
censured for his cool operations, defensive movements, and Fabian
slowness. Disadvantageous impressions were made on the minds of
some, and others were led to believe that General Washington as not
without his weaknesses and his foibles. It was observed by one of
his principal officers [See a letter from General Reed to General Lee,
afterwards published], "That decision is often wanting in minds other
ways valuable; that an indecisive mind in a commander, is one of the
greatest misfortunes that could befall an army; that he had often
lamented this circumstance through the campaign; that they were in a
very awful situation, in an alarming state, that required the utmost
wisdom and firmness of mind."

A wish at this time undoubtedly prevailed among some distinguished

characters, [Samuel Adams of Boston, General Mifflin, and several
other characters of distinction were suspected of unfriendly designs
towards the commander in chief. But there never were sufficient
grounds to suppose that Mr. Adams ever harbored an disaffection to
the person of General Washington. On the contrary, he respected and
esteemed his character and loved the man. But zealous and ardent in
the defense of his injured country, he was startled at everything that
appeared to retard the operations of war, or impede the success of
the revolution; a revolution for which posterity is as much indebted to
the talents and exertions of Mr. Adams, as to those of anyone in the
United States. General Mifflin was a young gentleman of a warm and
sanguine disposition. Active and zealous, he engaged early in
opposition to the measures of the British Parliament. He took arms,
and was among the first officers commissioned on the organization of
a continental army. For this he was read out of the Society of
Quakers, to which himself and his family had belonged. But Mr.
Mifflin's principles led him to consider himself under a moral
obligation to act offensively as well as defensively and vigorously to
oppose the enemies of his country; and from his character and
principle, he undoubtedly wished o see a commander in chief of the
united armies who would admit of no delay in the acceleration of the
object in which they were engaged.] for a supercedence of his
command. But Washington, cool, cautious, and more popular than
any man, his good genius was ever at hand to preserve his character
invulnerable. Yet, several circumstances confirmed the opinion that
even some members of Congress at this period were intriguing for his
removal. It might indeed at this time have had a fatal effect on
American affairs had General Washington fallen beneath a popular
disgust or the intrigues of his enemy.

Perhaps few other men could have kept together the shadow of an
army under such a combination of difficulties as the young republic
had to encounter, both in the field and the cabinet. many men of a
more active and enterprising spirit, might have put a period to the war
in a shorter space of time; yet perhaps not ultimately so much in favor
of America, as the slow, defensive movements of the officer then
vested with the chief command.

This line of conduct was thought by some to be not so much owing to

his superior sagacity and penetration, as to a constitutional want of
ardency, at times when energy appeared most necessary to many
persons. A predilection in favor of a connection with Britain seems
united to this disposition. It had appeared clearly by many
circumstance sin conversation with this confidential friends that he
was not in the beginning of opposition, fond of a final separation from
the parent state; and that he wished to move defensively until some
events might take place that would bring back, and with honor and
dignity re-unite the revolted colonies to the bosom of their ancient
parent. [In the early period of the war, many very worthy characters
opposed tot he British system, besides General Washington, wished
for a reconciliation with great Britain, if it could be procured
consistently with honor, and with sufficient pledges of security to the
just claims to the colonies rather than an irrevocable separation. But
time convinced all that nothing but independence and a total
dismemberment could secure the liberties of the United States.
But the public opinion always in his favor, with a happy talent to
secure the confidence of the people, he commanded in a remarkable
manner, their affections, their resources, and their attachment to the
end of the war; and had the good fortune to parry every charge
brought against him, with the firmness of the soldier, though not
without the sensibility of the man who found his reputation at stake.
He complained heavily to his private friends, yet took no public notice
of the vague imputations of slander, that fell from the pen of a French
officer of distinction, under the signature De Lisle.

These letters were fraught with the most severe strictures on the
general's military character and abilities. Some other letters in the
same style and manner, without a name, were directed to gentlemen
of character and consideration in several of the states. Some
addressed to Patrick Henry, Governor of the State of Virginia, he
immediately transmitted to Congress, and to the General himself.
However boldly some of the charges were urged they made little
impression on the public mind. The transient tale of a day passed as
the pathless, without leaving trace behind. His enemies shrunk from
the charge; and General Washington, by the current of applause that
always set in his favor, became more than ever the idol of the army an
the people.

General Conway, the reputed author of the letters signed De Lisle,

was a gentleman of great military talents and experience, with an
ambition equal to his abilities. He had left France with high
expectations of rank in the service of the United States. Not satisfied
with the appointment of Inspector General of the American army, his
pride wounded, and disappointed that he did not sustain a higher
grade in office, which he had been led to flatter himself with before he
left his country, and disgusted by the suspicions that fell on him after
the publication of De Lisle's letters, he resigned his commission and
returned to Europe.

Conway was not the only officer of his country that suffered similar
mortifications. The credulity of men of talents, family, and merit had
been imposed on by the indiscretion of one [Silas Deane, the first
agent sent by Congress to France.] of the American agents, and their
imaginations fired by ideas of rank and preferment in America, to
which no foreigner was entitled. Thus chagrined from the same
cause, it was thought the valiant Coudray, an officer of distinguished
name and merit, who was a brigadier general and chief engineer in
the French service, leaped voluntarily to his watery grave. His death
indeed was attributed to the fleetness of his horse which it was said
he could not command. Having occasion to cross the Schuylkill, in
company with some other officers, he entered a boat on horseback.
The career was swift; the catastrophe fatal. He leaped in on one side
of the boat, and with equal celerity out on the other. Thus both horse
and rider were irretrievably lost. Coudray was beloved and lamented
by all who knew him; and the loss of Conway was regretted by many
who esteemed him for his literary abilities and his military talents.

The important office of inspector general relinquished from necessity

by General Conway was immediately conferred on the Baron de
Steuben, an officer with the best credentials, who had recently arrived
from Germany. The essential services of this celebrated
disciplinarian were in a very short time felt throughout the army. New
regulations took place, and new arrangements were made in the
hospitals, in the commissary's, the quartermaster's, and other
departments, which had been shamefully abused, not from a want to
capacity or integrity in the preceding inspectors, but from the
ignorance, inexperience, or peculation of many of the subordinate
officers. From the date of the Baron's advancement, a more thorough
knowledge of tactics was acquired by the officers; more system,
discipline, and order appeared in the army; more equitable and
permanent regulations, and a stricter adherence to the rules and laws
of war took place than had been observed at any period before. The
merits of this officer, universally acknowledged, were afterwards
generously rewarded by the Congress of the United States.

It may not however be improper to observe before we pass on to the

subsequent circumstances of the war that though the Baron von
Steuben had been promoted to the rank of inspector general by the
approbation of Congress and the army, yet General Conway had a
considerable party attached to him among the military officers. Many
persons thought that his dismissal from office and permission to return
to France under the degradation of character which fell upon him,
without any specified charges of delinquency in office, or any solid
proofs that he really had been the author of the anonymous
reproaches thrown on the character of General Washington, was at
once affrontive both to himself and his nation. These ideas are more
clearly exhibited in a sketch of the life of Conway by another hand.
[See Note 20 at the end of this chapter].

We shall only further observe that the French nation was not disposed
to resent individual slights, or even public neglects at this interesting
period; a nation who viewed the resistance of the American colonies
to the overbearing power of Britain, on a broad scale. They
considered their opposition, if successful, as at once redounding to
their own interest, and to the promotion of the liberties of mankind in
general.

It had for many years been a primary object with the House of
Bourbon to humble the pride and power of Britain. No contingencies
that had arisen among the nations for near a century appeared so
likely to produce this effect, as an alienation from and a total loss of
their colonies. This consideration heightened the natural ardor, and
quickened the constitutional energies of every Frenchman to lend his
hand to the work. Their characteristic impetuosity always appeared
conspicuous in politics and war, as well as in the intrigues of love and
gallantry. They were ever restless under any appearance of slowness
that might retard the execution of their object: but the critical situation
of the American army at this period rendered an attempt to lessen the
influence and the character of the commander in chief dangerous and
inexcusable.
Notwithstanding the freedom of opinion and the license of the press,
which should never be too much restrained in a free country, there
are times and circumstances which require silence; and however
disposed anyone might be to censure the conduct of General
Washington, either for the want of enterprise, alacrity, or military skill,
yet perhaps no man in the United States, under the pressure of so
many difficulties, would have conducted with more discretion and
judgment.

If there was any error in the dismissal of General Conway, it might be

in not observing a due degree of delicacy, or furnishing any
testimonials of his having acquitted himself well in his military
capacity, a point on which all in that line are very tenacious. The
displacing of a single officer of any rank is not sufficiently important to
dwell upon long; and the apology for having done it at all must be the
danger at this time of disgusting a foreign corps belonging to a court
whose assistance was necessary, and whose aid had been courted,
though their faith was not yet absolutely pledged to promote the
emancipation of the United States.

France, however, was looking with too eager an steady an eye on the
operations and success of the resistance of the colonies to the
measures and mandates of the Crown and Parliament of England to
be moved by any partial considerations from the line of political
conduct which they had adopted. This was to embrace the first
favorable opportunity when contingent circumstances might promise
success to support the claim of independence, and render the breach
complete and durable, between the united States and Great Britain;
and thereby deprive that rival nation of the immense advantages they
had already reaped, and might again recover by a revival and
continuance of the connection.

That part of the American army immediately under the command of

General Washington must now be left encamped at Valley Forge for
the winter. Their situation impels the mind to throw over them that
veil of compassion which a season of perplexity, though not of
absolute despair, requires. We must now look over and survey with
an anxious eye and in the succeeding pages view the humiliating
events which for a time attended the fortune of war in the northern
department; and trace the footsteps of the soldier through the forlorn
desert which was ultimately the path to victory and glory.

********************

Note 20

Extracts of a short account of the treatment of major General Conway,

late in the service of America, from General Lee's letters.

"On Monday November 23, 1778, the honorable Major General

Conway set out from Philadelphia on his return to France. The
history of the treatment this gentleman has received is so singular
that it must make a figure in the anecdotes of mankind. He was born
in Ireland, but a the age of six was carried into France; was bred up
from his infancy to the profession of arms; and it is universally allowed
by the gentlemen of that nation that he has in their service the
reputation of being what is called un tre brave major d'infanterie,
which is no small character. It implies, if I comprehend the term
aright, a man possessed of all the requisite qualities to fill the duties
of a general officer in the secondary line, but by no means ranks him
among those favored mortals to whom it has pleased God to give so
large a portion of the ethereal sprit as to render reading, theory, and
practice unnecessary. But with the spectacle of this phenomena,
Heaven entertains the earth but very seldom. Greece, as historian
report, had but one; Rome none; England and France, only one
each. As to this hemisphere, I shall be silent on the subject, lest I
should be suspected of not being serious. But be this as it may, it is
past doubt that General Conway is a man of excellent understanding,
quick and penetrating, that he has seen much service, has read a
great deal, and digested well what he has read. It is not less certain
that he embarked with the warmest zeal for the great American
cause, and it has never been insinuated, unless by those who have
the talent of confounding causes, that his zeal has diminished. His
recompense has been, what? He has lost his commission. He has
been refused the common certificate which every officer receives at
the expiration of his services, unless his delinquencies have been
very substantial indeed. And, who what crime? For none, by any law,
or the most strained construction that can be put on any law. The
reasons given are so far form being substantial that they really ought
to reflect honor on his character. It seems he has been accused of
writing a letter to a confidential friend, communicating an opinion that
the commander in chief was not equal to the great task he was
charged with. Is this a crime? The contrary. If it was really his
opinion, it was decent, it was honest, it was laudable, it was his duty.
Does it come under any article of war? I may venture to affirm that it
does not. God help the community that should be absurd enough to
frame a law which could be construed into such a sense; such a
community could not long subsist. It ever has been and ever ought to
be the custom in all armies, not absolutely barbarians, for the officers
of high rank minutely to canvass the measures of their commander in
chief; and if his fault or mistakes appear to them many and great, to
communicate their sentiments to each other. It can be attended with
no one bad consequence; for if the criticisms are unjust and
impertinent, they only recoil on the authors, and the great man who is
the subject of them shines with redoubled luster. But if they are well
founded, they tend to open the eyes of the prince or state, who, form
blind prejudice or some strange infatuation may have reposed their
affairs in hands ruinously incapable. Does any man of sense, who is
the least acquainted with history, imagine that the greatest generals in
the world ever produced have escaped censure? Hannibal, Caesar,
Turenne, Marlborough, have all been censured; and the only method
they thought justifiable of stopping the mouths of their censors was by
a fresh exertion of their talents and a perpetual series of victories.
Indeed, it is observable that in proportion to the capacity or incapacity
of the commander in chief, he countenances or discountenances the
whole tribe of tale-bearers, informers, and pickthanks, who ever have
been, and ever will be, the bane of those courts and armies where
they are encouraged and even suffered. Allowing General
Washington to be possessed of all the virtues and military talents of
Epaminondas, and this is certainly allowing a great deal, for whether
from our modern education or perhaps the modern state of human
affairs, it is difficult to conceive that any mortal in these ages should
arrive at such perfection; but allowing it to be so, he would still remain
mortal, and of course subject to the infirmities of human nature;
sickness, or other casualties, might impair his understanding, his
memory or his courage; and in consequence of this failure, he might
adopt measures apparently weak, ridiculous, and pernicious.
Supposing this possible case, whether a law, the letter or spirit of
which should absolutely seal up the lips, and restrain the pens of
every witness of the defection, would it not in fact be denouncing
vengeance against those who alone have the means in their power of
saving the public from the ruin impending, if they should dare to make
use of these means for its salvation. If there were such a law, its
absurdity would be so monstrously glaring that we may hardly say it
would be more honored in the reach than in the observance. In the
English and French armies, the freedom with which the conduct and
measures of commanders in chief are canvassed is notorious; nor
does it appear that this freedom is attended with any bad
consequences. It has never been once able to remove a real great
officer from his command. Every action of the Duke of Marlborough
(everybody who has read must know) was not only minutely
criticized, but his whole conduct was dissected, in order to discover
some crime, blunder, fault, or even trifling error. But all these
impertinent pains and wicked industry were employed in vain. It was a
court intrigue alone that subverted him.

"General Wolfe, with whom to be compared it can be no degradation

to any mortal living, was not merely criticized, but grossly calumniated
by some officers of high rank under him. But that great man never
thought of having recourse to the letter or construction of any law in
order to avenge himself. He was contented with informing his
calumniators that he was not ignorant of their practices and that the
only method he should take for their punishment would be an active
perseverance in the performance of his duty, which, with the
assistance of God, he made no doubt would place him beyond the
reach of their malice. As to what liberties they had taken with him
personally, he should wait until he was reduced to the rank of a private
gentleman and then speak to them in that capacity.

"Upon the whole, it appears that it never was understood to be the

meaning of the English article of war which enjoins respect towards
the commander in chief; and, of course, it ought not to be understood
that the meaning of that article of the American code (which is a
servile copy from the English) is meant to prescribe the
communication of our sentiments to one another, on the capacity or
incapacity of the man on whom the misery or ruin of the state
depends. Its intention was, without doubt, in part complimentary, and
partly to lay some decent restrictions on the license of conversation
and writing which otherwise might create a diffidence in the minds of
the common soldiery, detrimental to the public service. But that it was
meant to impose a dead, torpid silence, in all cases whatever, on
men, who, from their rank, must be supposed to have eyes and
understanding, nothing under the degree of an idiot, can persuade
himself; but admitting, in opposition to common sense and all
precedents, the proceeding to be criminal; admitting Mr. Conway guilty
of it, to the extent represented, which he can demonstrate to be false;
in the name of God, why inflict the highest, at least negative
punishment, on a man untried, and unheard? The refusal of a
certificate of having honestly served is considered as the greatest of
negative punishments. Indeed, in the military idea, it is a positive one.

"And I sincerely hope, and do firmly believe (such is my opinion of the

justice of Congress) that when they have coolly reflected on the
merits and fortunes of this gentleman, they will do him that justice,
which nothing but the hasty misconstruction of a law hastily copied
form another law, never defined nor understood, has hitherto
prevented."
__________________

Volume Two

Chapter Eleven: Northern Department. General Carleton superseded.

General Burgoyne vested with the command for operations in
Canada. Ticonderoga abandoned by General St. Clair. Affair of Fort
Stanwix. Of Bennington and various other important movements of
the two armies, until the Convention of Saratoga. General Burgoyne
repairs to England on parole. His reception there. Reflections and
observations on the events of the Northern Campaign

From the time that Quebec was invested by Montgomery and Arnold,
at the close of 1775, until the termination of General Burgoyne's
campaign, in the autumn of 1777, the successes, the expectations,
and the disappointments from that quarter had been continually
varying.

Sir Guy Carleton, the governor of Canada, and who for a number of
years had been commander in chief of all the British forces through
that province, was a officer of approved fidelity, courage, and ability.
He had successfully resisted the storm carried into that country by
order of Congress. He had triumphed in the premature fall of the
intrepid, but unfortunate Montgomery. He had driven back the
impetuous Arnold to the verge of the lakes. He had defeated the
operations of General Thomson in a bold and successless attempt to
surprise the British post at Trois Rivieres: General Thomson was
there made a prisoner, with all his party who escaped the sword.
This happened about the time a detachment was marched northward
under the command of General Thomas. He died of the small pox, as
related above, when most of his army was destroyed by the sword,
sickness, or flight.

Though General Carleton had occasionally employed some of the

Indian allies of Great Britain, he had by his address kept back the
numerous tribes of savages, near and beyond the distant lakes. He
rather chose to hold them in expectation of being called to action,
than to encourage their ferocious inclination for war, which they ever
prosecute in those horrid forms that shock humanity too much for
description. Whether his checking the barbarity of the savages or
whether his lenity to the unfortunate Americans that had fallen into his
hands operated to his disadvantage, or whether from other political
motives is uncertain; however, he was superseded in his military
capacity, and the command given to General Burgoyne, who had re-
embarked from England early in the spring, and arrived at Quebec in
the month of May, 1777, with a large and chosen armament.

General Carleton felt the affront as a brave officer, conscious of

having discharged his trust with a degree of humanity on one side,
and the strictest fidelity to his master on the other. He immediately
requested leave to quite the government and repair to England. Yet
he did not at once desert the service of his King. His influence was
too great among the Canadians and over all the Indian tribes to
hazard his absence at this critical conjuncture. His return to Europe
was therefore postponed. He encouraged the provincials to aid his
successes, and exerted himself much more than heretofore to bring
on the innumerable hordes of the wilderness. IN consequence of
this, they poured down from the forests in such multitudes as to
awaken apprehensions in his own breast of a very disagreeable
nature. But he cajoled them to some terms of restraint; acted for a
time in conjunction with Burgoyne, and made his arrangements in
such a manner as greatly to facilitate the operations of the summer
campaign.

General Burgoyne was a gentleman of polite manners, literary

abilities, and tried bravery; but haughty in his deportment, sanguine in
opinion, and an inveterate foe to America from the beginning of the
contest with Britain. This he had discovered as a member of the
House of Commons, as well as in the field. On his arrival in Canada,
he lost no time, but left a sufficient force for the protection of Quebec,
and proceeded immediately across the lakes, at the head of 8000 or
10,000 men, including Canadians, and reached the neighborhood of
Crown Point before the last of June.

There, according to the barbarous system of policy adopted by his

employers, though execrated by a minority in Parliament, he
summoned the numerous tribes of savages to slaughter and
bloodshed. A congress of Indians was convened, who met on the
western side of Lake Champlain. He gave them a war feast, and
though his delicacy might not suffer him to comply with their usual
custom and taste the goblet of gore by which they bind themselves to
every ferocious deed, he made them a speech calculated to excite
them to plunder and carnage, though it was speciously covered by
some injunctions of pity towards the aged and infirm, who might
experience the wretched fate of becoming their prisoners. Yet, he so
far regarded the laws of humanity as to advise the savages to
tomahawk only such as were found in arms for the defense of their
country, and gave some encouragement to their bringing in prisoners
alive, instead of exercising that general massacre usual in all their
conflicts; nor would he promise a reward for the scalps of those who
were killed merely to obtain the bounty.

Having thus, as he supposed, secured the fidelity of savages, whom

no laws of civilization can bind when in competition with their appetite
for revenge and war, he published a pompous and ridiculous
proclamation. In this, he exhorted the inhabitants of the country,
wherever he should march, immediately to submit to the clemency of
his royal master. To quicken their obedience, he ostentatiously
boasted that "he had but to lift his arm, and beckon by a stretch
thereof" the innumerable hordes of the wilderness, who stood ready
to execute his will and pour vengeance on any who should yet have
the temerity to counteract the authority of the King of England. He
concluded his proclamation with these memorable threats: "I trust I
shall stand acquitted in the eyes of God and man in denouncing and
executing the vengeance of the state against the willful outcasts. The
messengers of justice and wrath await them in the field, and
devastation, famine, and every concomitant horror that a reluctant,
but indispensable prosecution of military duty must occasion, will bar
the way to their return." [See Burgoyne's speech to the Indians, and
his singular proclamation at large, in the British Remembrancer, the
Annual Register, and many other authentic records.]

After these preliminary steps, General Burgoyne pushed forward with

his whole force, and possessed himself of Ticonderoga, without the
smallest opposition. This was a strong post commanded by General
St. Clair, an officer always unfortunate, and in no instance ever
distinguished for bravery or judgment. Though the Americans here
were inferior in numbers to the British, they were not so deficient in
men as in arms, more particularly musketry and bayonets. But their
works were strong, the troops healthy, and they had just received a
reinforcement of men, and a fresh supply of everything else
necessary for defense. In these circumstances, there could scarcely
be found a sufficient excuse for calling a hasty council of war and
drawing off by night 5000 or 6000 men, on the first approach of the
enemy. The want of small arms was the only plausible pretense
offered by the commander to justify his conduct. This deficiency St.
Clair must have know before July 5, when he in a fright felt with his
whole army, and left everything standing in the garrison. [About this
time a misfortune befell the Americans not far distant from Montreal,
at a place called the Cedars. There Major Butterfield with his party
were compelled to surrender prisoners of war. This party captured by
Captain Forster, who commanded the British, consisted of 400 or 500
men. It was warmly disputed afterwards between Congress and the
British commanders whether the Cedars men, who were permitted to
depart on parole, should be exchanged for British prisoners taken
under Burgoyne.]

It is not probable the Americans could have long kept their ground
against the superiority of the British officers, and the number and
discipline of their troops. Yet, undoubtedly, measures might have
been early taken by a judicious commander to have retreated if
necessary without so much disgrace and the total loss of their
 artillery, stores, provisions, their shipping on the lake, and many
valuable lives. The order for retreat was unexpected to the army.
They had scarce time to secure a part of their baggage. The flight
was rapid, and the pursuit vigorous. The soldiers having lost
confidence in their commander, the out-posts were everywhere
evacuated, and a general dismay pervaded the fugitives, who, in
scattered parties, were routed in every quarter, and driven naked into
the woods.

After two days wandering in the wilderness, the largest body of the
Americans who had kept together were overtaken and obliged to
make a stand against a party that much outnumbered them,
commanded by Colonel Frazier, who had been indefatigable in the
pursuit. The action continued three or four hours, when the
Americans, though they fought with bravery, were totally routed with
very great loss. Colonel Francis, the gallant commander of this party,
was killed, with many other officers of merit. 200 or 300 privates were
left dead on the field, thrice that number wounded or taken prisoners.
Most of the wounded perished miserably in the woods. The British
lost several officers highly esteemed by them, among whom was
Major Grant, a man of decided bravery. Yet General Burgoyne found
to his cost, his incapacity to execute the boast he had some time
before made in the House of Commons that "so little was to be
apprehended from the resistance of the colonies that he would
engage to drive the continent with 500 disciplines troops."

General St. Clair had made good his own retreat so far as to be six
miles ahead with the van of the routed army. Such was his terror on
hearing of the defeat of Colonel Francis and some other successes of
the royal army, that, instead of proceeding to Fort Ann, as intended,
he shrunk off into the woods, uncertain where to fly for security.
Another party of the Americans, who had reached Fort Ann, were
attacked and reduced by Colonel Hill, with one British regiment. They
set fire to the fortress themselves to prevent its falling into the hands
of the victors, and fled with the utmost speed toward Ford Edward, on
the Hudson. General St. Clair, and the miserable remains of his army
who escaped death either by fatigue or the sword, after a march of
seven days, through mountainous and unfrequented passages,
harassed in the rear, and almost without provisions of any kind,
arrived at Fort Edward in a most pitiable condition.

General Burgoyne was too much the experienced officer to neglect his
advantages. He pushed forward with equal alacrity and success; and
in spite of the embarrassments o bad roads, mountains, thickets, and
swamps, he reached the neighborhood of Fort Edward within a few
days after the broken remnant of St. Clair' army had posted
themselves there. On his approach, the Americans immediately
decamped from Fort Edward, under the command of General
Schuyler, whom they found there, and withdrew to Saratoga. He had
been making some efforts to collect the militia from the country
contiguous, to aid and support the routed corps; but on their advance,
he did not think it prudent to face the British troops.

A share of the public odium on this occasion fell on General Schuyler.

His conduct, as well as the delinquency of General St. Clair, was very
heavily censured. They were both ordered, with some other of the
principal officers of the late council of war at Ticonderoga, to repair to
Congress to answer for the loss of that fort, and

the command of the Lake Champlain. On the other hand, it was no

small triumph to General Burgoyne and his army thus to have chased
the Americans from the province of Canada, to find themselves in
possession of all the lakes, and to see the British standard erected on
the Hudson, which had long been an object of importance with
administration.

Exaggerated accounts of the weakness of the Americans, the

incapacity of their officers, and the timidity of the troops were
transmitted to England; and the most sanguine expectations formed
by people of every description through the island They were ready to
imagine that, hunted from post to post, both in the northern and
 southern departments, the spirits of the colonists must be broken,
their resources fail, and the Untied States thus repeatedly
disappointed would lose all energy of opposition and soon fall a prey
to the pride and power of Great Britain. But notwithstanding the
unhappy derangement of their affairs at the northward, and the
successes of General How in the southward, there appeared not the
smallest inclination among the people at large throughout the
American states to submit to royal authority. the untoward
circumstances that had taken place neither exhausted their hopes nor
damped the ardor of enterprise. The dangers that lowered in every
quarter seemed rather to invigorate the public mind and quicken the
operations of war.

On the defeat of St. Clair and the advance of the British army, the
eastern states immediately drafted large detachments of militia and
hastened them forward. Congress directed General Washington to
appoint proper officers, to repair to Saratoga and take the command.
They also appointed a court of inquiry to take cognizance of the
delinquency of the suspended officers. But their influence was too
great with the commander in chief and some principal members of
Congress to subject them to that measure of degradation which it
was generally thought they deserved. They were dismissed, though
not with approbation, yet without any severe censure. But as the
conduct of St. Clair was disgraceful and that of Schuyler could not be
justified, they were neither of them appointed to active service.

General Gates, a brave and experienced officer formerly in British

service, a man of open manners, integrity of heart, and undisguised
republican principles, was vested with the chief command to act
against Burgoyne. On his arrival at Saratoga, he drew back the army
and encamped at a place called Stillwater, where he could more
conveniently observe the motions of Colonel St. Ledger, who was
advancing to the Mohawk River to invest Fort Stanwix. This post was
commanded by Colonel Gansevoort, whose bravery and intrepidity
did honor to himself and to his country. General Arnold was sent on
with a reinforcement from the continental army and a large train of
artillery to the aid of General Gates. He was ordered to leave the
main body and march with the detachment towards the Mohawk
River to the assistance of Gansevoort. But before there was time
sufficient for his relief from any quarter this gallant officer found
himself and the garrison surrounded by a large body of British troops,
in conjunction with a formidable appearance of savages, yelling in the
environs, and thirsting for blood. At the same time, he was
threatened by their more enlightened, yet to more humanized allies,
that unless he immediately surrendered the garrison or if he delayed
until it was taken by storm, they should all be given up to the fury of
the Indians, who were bent upon the massacre of every officer and
soldier.

St. Ledger, by letters, messages, and all possible methods,

endeavored to intimidate the commander of the fortress. He
observed that the savages were determined to wreak their
vengeance for the recent loss of some of their chiefs on the
inhabitants of the Mohawk River and to sweep the young plantations
there, without distinction of age or sex. He made an exaggerated
display of his own strength, of the power and success of Burgoyne,
and the hopeless state of the garrison, unless by a timely submission
they put themselves under his protection. On this condition, he
promised to endeavor to mitigate the barbarity of his Indian
coadjutors and to soften the horrors usually attendant on their
victories.

Colonel Gansevoort, instead of listening to any proposals of

surrender, replied "that entrusted by the United States with the charge
of the garrison, he should defend it to the last extremity, regardless of
the consequences of doing his duty." Their danger was greatly
enhanced by the misfortune of General Harkimer, who had marched
for the relief of Fort Stanwix, but with too little precaution. At the head
of 800 or 900 militia, he fell into an ambush consisting mostly of
Indians, and, notwithstanding a manly defense, few of them
escaped. They were surrounded, routed, and butchered, in all the
barbarous shapes of savage brutality, after many of them had
become their prisoners, and their scalps carried to their British allies to
receive the stipulated price. A vigorous sally from the garrison,
conducted by Colonel Willet of New York, and his successful return
with a number of prisoners, gave

the first information of the failure of Harkimer. This instead of

discouraging, inspirited to fresh enterprise. The valiant Willet, in
contempt of danger and difficulty, hazarded a passage by night
through the enemy's works, and traversed the unexplored and
pathless wilderness for upwards of 50 miles, to the more inhabited
settlements, in order to raise the country to hasten to the relief of the
garrison and the protection of the inhabitants scattered along the
borders of the Mohawk River.

General Arnold had marched with a thousand men for the relief of the
besieged; but though in his usual character he made all possible
dispatch, the gallant Gansevoort had two days before his arrival
repulsed the assailants and obliged them to retreat in such disorder
that it had all the appearance of a flight. In consequence of this, St.
Ledger was obliged to relinquish the siege with so much precipitation
that they left their tents, stores, and artillery behind them, and their
camp kettles on the fire. This movement was hurried on by the sullen
and untractable behavior of the Indians, which rose to such a height
as to give him reason to be apprehensive for his won safety. His
fears were well founded. Their conduct had become so outrageous
that it was not in the power of Sir John Johnson, Butler, and other
influential friends of the savages to keep them within any bounds.
They frequently plundered the baggage of the British officers; and
when an opportunity offered the slightest advantage, they murdered
their British or German allies, with the same brutal ferocity with which
they imbrued their hands in the blood of Americans.

The next movement of importance made by General Burgoyne was an

attempt to get possession of the little obscure town of Bennington,
lying in the Hampshire Grants among the Green Mountains and made
considerable only by the deposit of a large quantity of cattle,
provisions, carriages, and other necessaries for the use of the
American army. For the purpose of seizing these, as well as to
intimidate the people in that quarter by the magnitude of his power
and the extent of his designs, he detached a party of Hessians, with a
few loyalists, and some Indians, to the amount of 1500, and gave the
command to colonel Baum, a German officer. He was
commissioned, after he had surprised Bennington, to ravage the
adjacent country, and, if possible, to persuade the inhabitants that he
was in force sufficient and that he designed to march on to
Connecticut River, in the road to Boston. He was ordered to inform
them that the main body of the British army was in motion for the
same purpose [See General Burgoyne's orders to Colonel Baum in
Note 1, at the end of this chapter.], that they were to be joined at
Springfield by a detachment from Rhode Island, and that by their
irresistible power, they meant to bring the rebellious Americans to due
submission, or to sweep the whole country.

It is astonishing that a man of General Burgoyne's understanding and

military experience should issue orders so absurd and impracticable.
He must have been very little acquainted with the geography of the
country, and less with the spirit of the inhabitants, to have supposed
that a detachment of 1500 men could march from Saratoga until they
reached the Connecticut River, take post at a variety of places,
levying taxes on the inhabitants, making demands of provisions,
cattle, and all other necessaries for the use of his army, without any
resistance; thence to proceed down the river to Brattleborough, and
to return by another road and take post at Albany; and this business
to be completed in the short term of a fortnight. Nor did he discover
less ignorance if he expected a detachment to leave Rhode Island
and march through the country to Springfield on the same design,
and from there to meet Colonel Baum at Albany.

It is impossible to suppose that so renowned a commander as

General Burgoyne could mean to deceive or embarrass his officers
by his orders; but if he flattered himself that they could be executed,
he must still have cherished the opinion that he once uttered in the
House of Commons, that 4000 or 5000 British troops could march
through the continent and reduce the rebellious states to a due
submission to the authority of Parliament. In this march, Burgoyne
ordered all acting in committee or in any other capacity under the
direction of Congress to be made prisoners.

These pompous orders and bombastic threats were far from

spreading the alarm and panic they were designed to excite. The
adjacent country was immediately in motion, and all seemed
animated with the boldest resolution in defense of the rights of nature,
and the peaceable possession of life and property. When Colonel
Baum had arrived within four miles of Bennington, appearances gave
him reason to apprehend that he was not sufficiently strong to make
an attack on the place. He judged more prudent to take post on a
branch of the River Hoosuck, and by express inform General
Burgoyne of his situation and the apparent difficulty of executing his
orders with only 1500 men.

In consequence of this information, an additional party, principally

Waldeckers, were sent on under the command of Colonel Breyman.
But before he could surmount the unavoidable impediments of
marching over bad and unfrequented roads and reach the camp of
his friends and his countrymen, a body of militia commanded by
General Starks had pressed forward, attacked, routed, and totally
defeated Colonel Baum, in the neighborhood of Bennington. General
Starks in his early youth had been used to the alarm of war. His
birthplace was on the borders of New Hampshire, which had been
long subject to the incursions of the savages. When a child, he was
captured by them and adopted as one of their own, but after a few
years restored. He led a regiment to the field in 1775 and
distinguished himself as a soldier. On the new arrangement of the
army, he retired as a citizen. His manners were plain, honest, and
severe; excellently calculated for the benefit of society in the private
walks of life. But as a man of principle, he again left the occupation
of the husbandman when his country was in danger. On Burgoyne's
approach, he voluntarily marched to the state of Vermont, at the head
of the militia, and immortalized his name by his signal success at
Bennington, in one of the darkest periods of the American war.

Bennington, the present scene of action, as the first settlement in the

territory of Vermont, which was as recent as the year 1769. This was
made by the possessors of the tracts called the New Hampshire
Grants, robust and hardy set of men, collected from the borders, and
under the jurisdiction of the provinces of New Hampshire,
Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New York. Rough, bold, and
independent, these people, generally denominated the Green
Mountain Boys, were brave and active, not only in the present
conflict, but were eminently useful to their country by their intrepidity
and valor, to the conclusion of the American war. [General Burgoyne
observed in a letter to Lord George Germaine "that the Hampshire
Grants, almost unknown in the last war, now abound in the most
active and most rebellious race on the continent, and hang like a
gathering storm on my left." See further particulars of the state of
Vermont in Note 2, at the end of this chapter.]

Governor Skeene, a singular character, who had been a colonel in

one of the king's regiments, had obtained a commission from the
Crown to act as governor at and about Lake Champlain, had
assumed jurisdiction over the Hampshire Grants, and acted as
companion and guide to Colonel Baum in the expedition. He fled on
the first appearance of danger, as did the loyalists, the Canadian
provincials, and the Indians. Baum was wounded and taken prisoner,
and his whole corps captured by this small body of American militia.
Colonel Breyman, who arrived in the afternoon of the same day,
escaped a similar fate only by flight, after a short and brave defense,
and the loss of most of his men.

This memorable even would perhaps at any other period have

appeared of less moment; but when so renowned a commander as
General Burgoyne, in the zenith of success and the pride of victory,
was threatening with the aid of his savage adherents to execute all
the deeds of horror enjoined by his employers, a repulse from so
unexpected a quarter was humiliating indeed. It gave a new turn to
the face of the campaign. The success at Bennington took place on
August 16, 1777.

On the first rumor of this action through the country, the loyalists, who
in great numbers still resided among the opposers of royal authority,
affected everywhere to cast over it the shade of ridicule. They
alleged that the raw militia of Hampshire, and Starks their
commander, must have been too much awed by the name and
prowess of General Burgoyne and his experience veterans to attempt
anything of consequence. Nor were they convinced of the truth of the
report until they saw the prisoners on their way to Boston. But the
people at large, who appeared to have been waiting with a kind of
enthusiastic expectation for some fortunate event that might give a
spring to action, at once gave full credit to the account and magnified
this success in strains of the highest exultation and defiance, and in
the warmth of imagination anticipated new victories.

It is certain that from this moment fortune seemed to have changed

her face. Whether the spirits of the British officers and troops flagged
in equal proportion, as the enthusiasm fro glory and victory seemed
to rekindle in the bosoms of their antagonists, or whether General
Burgoyne was restricted by orders that obliged him in some instances
to act against his own better informed judgment, his success
terminated with the capture of Fort Edward.

By some of his letters written soon after this to the Minister of the
American Department, the situation of the British army began to
appear to General Burgoyne exceedingly critical. He intimated his
apprehensions; and with an air of despondency, in one of them he
observed "that circumstances might require that he and the army
should be devoted; and that his orders were so peremptory that he did
not think himself authorized to call a council of war with regard to his
present movements." [See General Burgoyne's own letters in his
defense and narrative.] It was doubtless thought necessary, at all
hazards, to prevent the forces under General Gates from being at
leisure to join General Washington. It was also a favorite point with
the ministry that Burgoyne should push on to Albany. But, however
dubious the prospect might then appear to himself, or whatever might
be his own expectations, General Burgoyne thought proper to pass
the Hudson and, about the middle of September, he encamped on
the heights and plains of Saratoga.

Supported by a number of brace, experienced and most approved

officers in British services, a large armament of British, Hessians, and
provincials, with a prodigious train of artillery and his copper-colored
scouts and allies, he with all industry prepared to offer battle and try
the fortune of war in a general engagement. The Americans, in equal
readiness for action, marched from their camp on the 19th, and at a
place called Stillwater attacked the right wing of the British army,
commanded by Burgoyne himself. Meeting a repulse, they turned
their whole force to the left, commanded by the Baron Reidesel, and
supported by General Phillips at the head of a formidable artillery.
The Americans sustained the combat for several hours, against
officers of distinguished bravery and more experience than
themselves, who commanded some of the best troops the princes of
Germany or even the monarch of Britain could boast; but evening
advancing, without decided advantage, the loss of men being nearly
equal on both sides, the Americans retreated and recovered their
camp with little interruption.

The British troops lay on their arms through the night, and in the
morning took an advantageous position and spread themselves along
a meadow, in full view and almost within canon-shot of the American
camp. Here General Burgoyne received intelligence from Sir Henry
Clinton that he had embarked for the North River with several
thousand troops, in order to make a diversion in his favor that might
greatly facilitate his operations. This account flattered the former
expectations of Burgoyne; who judged that General Gates would be
obliged to divide his army to succor the distressed villages on each
side of the Hudson, now exposed to the most cruel ravages.
Expectation was again raised, and the British army invigorated by
fresh hopes that a junction at Albany might soon be effected.

With these ideas, General Burgoyne found means to dispatch several

messages by private ways through the woods to General Clinton.
The purport of these was "that if possible to remain unmolested, he
should keep his present position a few days longer; when probably
the American army might be weakened by the necessity of
detachments for other service." He was further strengthen in the ideas
of success by a recent disappointment of the Americans in an attempt
to recover Ticonderoga. Had this enterprise succeeded, it would at
once effectually have prevented the retreat of the British army, which
began to be contemplated.

The business was principally committed to the direction of General

Lincoln, and prosecuted with vigor by the Colonels Brown, Johnson,
Woodbury, and other spirited officers. They passed the mountains
between Skeensborough and Lake George in so rapid and private a
manner that before any intimation of the business was disseminated,
they seized the outposts and captured the armed vessels and a
number of boats on the lake and with four companies of foot and a
party of Canadians they took possession of Mount Independence and
summoned the garrison in Ticonderoga to surrender. This was
gallantly refused, and the fortress bravely defended by Brigadier
General Powell. The Americans made several efforts to storm the
garrison; but repulsed with resolution and valor, they found
themselves not in force sufficient for farther trial; and after a few days,
they relinquished the design and retired.

Yet notwithstanding the rebuff and retreat from Ticonderoga, with the
advantages the British affected to claim from the action at Stillwater
and the flattering encouragement received from Sir Henry Clinton,
General Burgoyne was still involved in complicated difficulties. The
dangers he had to encounter increased on every side. Fresh troops
of militia were continually reinforcing the army of his enemies, while
his own daily lessened by the desertion of the Canadian militia, the
provincial loyalists, and the defection of the Indians.

These last grew sullen from the disappointment of plunder and were
irritated from the notice General Burgoyne was obliged in honor to
take of the barbarous murder of a Miss McCrea, on which many of
them drew off in disgust. This beautiful young lady, dressed in her
bridal habiliments, in order to be married the same evening to an
officer of character in Burgoyne's own regiment, while her heart
glowed in expectation of a speedy union with the beloved object of
her affections, was induced to leave a house near Fort Edward, with
the idea of being escorted to the present residence of her intended
husband, and was massacred on the way, in all the cold-blooded
ferocity of savage manners. Her father had uniformly been a zealous
loyalist. But it was not always in the power of the most humane of the
British officers to protect the innocent from the barbarity of their
savage friends.

General Burgoyne was shocked by the tragic circumstances that

attended the fate of this lovely, unfortunate girl. But he attempted to
palliate the crime, though he did not neglect an endeavor to inflict due
punishment on the perpetrators. Yet such was the temper of his
Indian adherents that instead of inflicting death, he was obliged to
pardon the guilty chiefs, notwithstanding the cry of justice and the grief
and resentment of her lover. [The Earl of Harrington observed in
evidence on Burgoyne's trial that it was his opinion and that of other
officers that when General Burgoyne threatened the culprit with death
and insisted, that he should be delivered up that it might have been
attended with dangerous consequences. Many gentlemen of the
army besides himself believed that motives of policy alone prevented
him from putting this threat in execution; and that if he had not
pardoned the murderer, which he did, the total defection of the
Indians would have ensured. He observed that "the consequences
on their return through Canada might have been dreadful, not to
speak of the weight they would have thrown into the opposite scale,
had they gone over to the enemy, which I rather imagine would have
been the case."] The best coloring that could be given the affecting
tale was that two of the principal warriors, under a pretense of
guarding her person, had, in a mad quarrel between themselves,
which was best entitled to the prize, or to the honor of the escort,
made the blooming beauty, shivering in the distress of innocence,
youth, and despair, the victim of their fury. The helpless maid was
butchered and scalped, and her bleeding corpse left in the woods, to
excite the tear of every beholder.

In addition to the complicated embarrassments the British commander

had to conflict, provisions grew short in the camp. He was obliged to
lessen their rations and put his soldiers on allowance. The most he
could hope, as he observed himself in a letter to Sir Henry Clinton,
was to hold out to October 12, or effect a retreat before, in the best
possible manner. The last expedient he soon found impracticable, by
the precaution taken by General Gates to guard all the passes, to cut
off all supplies, and nearly to surround the British army. In this
uncertain and distressed situation, General Burgoyne waited with all
the anxiety of a faithful servant, and the caution and vigilance of an
able commander, from the action of September 19 until October 7,
without any nearer prospect of a diversion in his favor. He then found
it necessary to make a general movement, either to decide the fate of
his brave officers and men in the field of battle by a general
engagement, or force a retreat.

General Gates equally prepared, either for attack or defense, a warm

engagement ensured, which proved fatal to many of the best officers
in the British line; but after a sharp conflict of several hours, and the
highest exhibitions of military prowess, the British found it necessary
to recover their camp before evening, which they did in some
disorder. They had scarcely entered it when it was stormed on every
side. Lord Balcarras with his light infantry, and a part of the British
line, were ordered to throw themselves into the entrenchments, which
they executed with spirit, and made a gallant and resolute defense.
But the action led on by the ardent and undaunted Arnold, who
acquitted himself with his usual intrepidity, was vigorously pushed in
spite of the most valiant opposition, until almost in the moment of
victory, Arnold was dangerously wounded and his party obliged to
retreat. The Americans were fortunate enough to carry the
entrenchment of the German reserve, commanded by Colonel
Breyman, who was killed in the engagement. All the artillery and
equipage of the brigade, and about 200 officers and privates were
captured.

The engagement was continued through the whole of this fated day,
which closed the scene of conflict and mortality on many brave men,
and a number of officers of distinguished valor. The first in name who
fell was Brigadier General Frazier. "Before his death, General Frazier
requested that his body might be carried to his grave by the field
officers of his own corps, without any parade, and buried there.
About sunset, the body was brought up the hill, attended only by the
officers of his own family. They passed in view of the greatest part of
both armies. Struck with the humility of the scene, some of the first
officers of the army joined the procession, as it were from a natural
propensity, to pay the last attention to his remains.

"The incessant cannonade during the solemnity; the steady attitude,

and unaltered voice of the chaplain, though covered with the dust
which the shot threw up on all side; the mute, but expressive
sensibility on every countenance; the growing duskiness of the
evening, added to the scenery -- combined to maker a character and
to furnish the finest subject for the pencil or a mater that any field has
exhibited." [Extracted from a letter of General Burgoyne.]

Colonel Breyman and Sir James Clark, aide decamp to General

Burgoyne, were also killed. Major Ackland was dangerously
wounded, and taken prisoner. Lady Ackland, whose conjugal
affection had led her to accompany her husband through all the
dangers and fatigues of a campaign in the wilderness, was a woman
of the most delicate frame, of the genteelest manners, habituated to
all the soft elegancies and refined enjoyments that attend high birth
and fortune. Her sufferings exhibit a story so affecting to the mind of
sensibility that it may apologize for a short interlude in the most
interesting detail of military transactions.

She had accompanied Major Ackland to Canada in 1776. After which

she traversed a vast woody country, in the most extreme seasons, to
visit her husband, sick in a poor hut at Chamblee. On the opening of
the campaign of 1777, the positive injunction of her husband
prevented her risking the hazards expected before Ticonderoga.
There Major Ackland was badly wounded, on which she crossed the
Champlain to attend him. She followed his fortune and shared his
fatigues, through the dreary way to Fort Edward; there lodged in a
miserable tent which by accident took fire by night, when both Major
Ackland and herself were saved by an orderly sergeant, who dragged
them from the flames almost before they awoke.

Lady Ackland lost not her resolution or her cheerfulness by the

dangers she had encountered; but accompanied by her soldier to the
action on September 19. By his order, she had followed the route of
the artillery and baggage, where she would be least exposed, until
she alighted at a small uninhabited tent, which, when the action
became general, the surgeons took possession of to dress their
wounded.

Thus, within hearing of the roar of cannon, when she knew the
situation of her beloved

husband was in the most exposed part of the action, she waited some
hours in a situation and in apprehensions not easily described. The
Baroness of Reidesel, and the wives of the Majors Harnage and
Reynal were with her; but she derived little comfort from their
presence. Major Harnage was soon brought into the tent
dangerously wounded, accompanied with the tiding of the death of
the husband of Mrs. Reynal. Let imagination paint the misery of this
little group is distressed females. Here among the wounded and the
dying, Lady Ackland with her usual serenity, stood prepared for new
trials, until the fatal October 7, when her fortitude was put to the
severest test by the intelligence that the British army was defeated
and that Major Ackland was desperately wounded and taken
prisoner. Not borne down by grief or anxiety, she the next day
requested to leave to attend the wounded prisoner, to the last
moment of his life.

General Burgoyne, from whose narrative some circumstances of Lady

Ackland's story are selected, observes "that though he had
experienced that patience and fortitude in a supreme degree, were to
be found, as well as every other virtue, under the most tender forms,
he was astonished at this proposal. After so long an exposure and
agitation of the spirits, exhausted not only for want of rest, but
absolutely for want of food, drenched in rain for 12 hours together,
that a woman should be capable of delivering herself to the enemy,
probably in the night, and uncertain what hands she should fall into,
appeared an effort above human nature." He adds, "he had not a cup
of wine to offer her; all which the hapless lady could be furnished was
a little rum and dirty water, an open boat, and a few lines to General
Gates."

Thus this lady left the British lines, attended only by Mr. Brudenell,
chaplain to the artillery, the major's valet-de-chambre, and one female
servant. She was rowed down the river to meet the enemy, when her
distresses thickened anew. The night advanced before she met the
outposts. The sentinel would neither let the boat pass, nor the
passengers come on shore, notwithstanding the singular state of this
heroic lady was pathetically represented by Mr. Brudenell.
Apprehensive of treachery, the sentinel threatened to fire into the
boat if they attempted to stir until the appearance of day. Thus,
through a dark and cold night, far advanced in a state that always
requires peculiar tenderness to the sex, with a heart full of anxiety for
her wounded husband, she was obliged to submit, and in this perilous
 situation, to reflect until the dawn of the morning, on her own
wretched condition and the uncertainty of what reception she should
meet from strangers in hostile array, flushed with victory and eager to
complete the triumph of the preceding day.

When General Gates in the morning was made acquainted with the
situation and request of Lady Ackland, she was immediately
permitted to visit her husband, under a safe escort. The American
commander himself treated her with the tenderness of a parent, and
gave orders that every attention should e paid due to her rank, her
sex, her character, and the delicacy of her person and circumstances.
[See Note 3 at the end of this chapter]. He wrote General Burgoyne
and assured him of her safety and accommodation, and informed him
that this line of conduct would have been observed without a letter
from the British commander, not only to this lady, but to others of his
unfortunate friends, languishing under their wounds; that the
American commanders needed not a request to excite their humanity
to the unfortunate, who by the chances of war had been thrown on
their compassion. In the same letter he reminded General Burgoyne
"that the cruelties which marked the late effort for the retreat of his
army were almost without a precedent among civilized nations; and
that an endeavor to ruin, where they could not conquer, betrayed
more the vindictive spirit of the monk, than the generosity of the
soldier." [General Gates's letter to General Burgoyne, October 10,
1777.]

Notwithstanding the misfortunes and the losses of the preceding day,

General Burgoyne did not yet totally despair of retrieving his affairs
and his honor, by another general engagement. This he endeavored
to effect on the eighth, and in this he was again disappointed. The
utmost bravery was exhibited on both sides, but no decided action.
Several days passed on in desultory skirmishes: spirit and intrepidity
were not wanting on either side; while the one had everything to hope
and inspirit them, the other, nothing left but a choice of
insurmountable difficulties.
In this situation, the British commander judged the best expedient was
a second effort to repass the Hudson and retreat to Fort Edward. To
this every impediment was thrown in his way. A retreat was rendered
impracticable by the number and vigilance of the Americans. The
borders of the river were lined with troops; and detachments pushed
forward to cut off all hope of retreat on every side. The condition of
the British army grew hourly more desperate. Winter was
approaching, their provisions spent, the troops exhausted by
continual fatigue; and not the smallest prospect of relief appeared
from any quarter.

In this deplorable situation, General Burgoyne summoned a grand

council of war, in which, as he stood in need of every advice, not only
the field officers, but the subalterns had a voice. It was unanimously
judged most prudent, in the humiliated and hopeless condition to
which they were reduced, to open a treaty of convention, and
endeavor to obtain some honorable terms of surrender. General
Gates was acknowledged by all, not only the valiant, but the humane
and generous foe. They had no doubt he would mitigate their
mortification, as far as the laws of war or of honor would permit, from
the victor to the vanquished.

In consequence of this determination, the solemn negotiation took

place on October 13. General Burgoyne intimated to the American
commander that he wished to send a field officer to him, to confer on
matters of the highest moment and requested to know when he might
be received. General Gates really possessed that humanity which
distinguishes the hero from the assassinator of the feelings of
wounded honor. He seemed touched by the request, with that
sympathy which ever resides in the bosom of generosity; and replied
instantly, that an officer from General Burgoyne should be received at
the advanced post of the army of the United States at ten o'clock the
next morning.

Major Kingston was accordingly sent at the appointed time and was
conducted to the headquarters of the American army. The purport of
the message was that Lieutenant General Burgoyne, having twice
fought General Gates, had determined on a third conflict; but well
apprised of the superiority of numbers and the disposition of the
American troops, he was convinced that either a battle or a retreat
would be a scene of carnage on both sides. In this situation, he was
impelled by humanity and though himself justified by established
principles of states and of war to spare the lives of brave men upon
honorable terms. Should General Gates be inclined to treat upon
those ideas, General Burgoyne would propose a cessation of arms,
during the time necessary to settle such preliminaries, as he could
abide by in any extremity.

A convention was immediately opened. A discussion of some articles

proposed by the American commander, which appeared to the British
officers inadmissible, occasioned a delay of two or three days. These
being accommodated, a treaty of surrender was signed October 17,
1777. The substance of the treaty was:

That the troops under the command of General Burgoyne, should

march out of their camp with the honors of war, and the artillery of the
entrenchment, to the verge of a certain river, where the arms and the
artillery should be piled at the command of one of their own officers;

That a free passage should be provided for the army to return to

England, on condition that they should not serve again in America,
during the present contest; that transports should enter the port of
Boston for their reception, whenever General How should think
proper to request it; and that they should be quartered near Boston,
that no delay might take place, when an order for embarkation
arrived;

That the Canadians of every description should be permitted to return

immediately, on the sole condition of their not again arming against
the United States;
That the army under General Burgoyne should march to the
Massachusetts by the nearest route; they should be supplied with
provisions, both on their route and in quarters, at the same rate of
rations, by order of General Gates, as that of his own army;

That the officers should wear their side arms and be lodged according
to their rank; nor at any time be prevented assembling their own
troops, according to the usual military regulations;

That passports should be granted to such officers as General

Burgoyne should appoint, immediately to carry dispatches to Sir
William Howe, to General Carleton, and to England by way of New
York; and that General Gates should engage on the public faith, that
one of the dispatches should be opened.

After the second article was stipulated that if a cartel should take
place by which the army under General Burgoyne or any part of it
might be exchanged, the second article should be void, as far as
such exchange should be made.

These and several other circumstances of less moment agreed to, the
convention was signed with much solemnity.

After the negotiation was finished and completed by the mutual

signature of the officers, General Gates conducted not only as an
officer of bravery, punctuality, and a nice sense of military honor, but
with the fine feelings of humanity, and the delicacy of a gentleman.
He carried these ideas so far as to restrain the curiosity and pride of
his own army, by keeping them within their lines while the British were
piling their arms. He did not suffer a man among them to be near
witness to the humiliating sight, of a haughty and once powerful foe,
disarming and divesting themselves of the insignia of military
distinction and laying them at the feet of the conqueror.
Thus, to the consternation of Britain, to the universal joy of America,
and to the gratification of all capable of feeling that dignity of
sentiment that leads the mind to rejoice in the prospect of liberty to
their fellow men, was the northern expedition finished. A reverse of
fortune was now beheld that had not fallen under the calculation of
either party.

It is more easy to conjecture than agreeable to describe the chagrin of

a proud, assuming foe, who had imperiously threatened to penetrate
and lay waste cities and provinces, thus humbled by the arms of a
people they had affected to hold in the utmost contempt, and their
laurels thus faded beneath the sword of the victorious Americans.

It was a tale without example in British annals, that so many

thousands [5752 men surrendered, exclusive of Canadians. 2933 had
been previously slain.] of their best troops, in conjunction with a large
body of German auxiliaries, commanded by generals and field
officers of the first character, accompanied by many young gentlemen
of noble family and military talents, should be thus reduced, mortified,
and led captive, through a long extent of country, where they had
flattered themselves they should parade in triumph. They were
obliged before they reached their destined quarters, to traverse the
pleasant grounds, pass through many flourishing towns, and growing
settlements, where they had expected to plant the standard of royalty,
in all the cruel insolence of victory, to the utter extermination of every
republican principle.

The British army, with General Burgoyne at their head, was escorted
from the plains of Saratoga to their quarters at Cambridge, about 300
miles, by two or three American field officers, and a handful of
soldiers as a guard. The march was solemn, sullen, and silent; but
they were everywhere treated with such humanity, and even delicacy,
that themselves acknowledged, the civil deportment of the inhabitants
of the country was without a parallel. They thought it remarkable that
not an insult was offered, nor an opprobrious reflection cast that could
enhance the misery of the unfortunate, or wound the feelings of
degraded honor.

As soon as General Gates had finished the campaign of Saratoga,

which terminated with so much eclat to himself, and so much glory to
the arms of his country, he wrote a spirited letter to General Vaughan,
who had been for some months ravaging, plundering, and burning,
with unparalleled barbarity, the settlements on the North River. He
informed him that "notwithstanding he had reduced the fine village of
Kingston to ashes, and its inhabitants to ruin; that though he still
continued to ravage and burn all before him, on both sides of the
river; these instances of unexampled cruelty but established the
glorious act of independence, on the broad basis of the general
resentment of the people." He added, "and is it thus, sir, your king's
generals think to make converts to the royal cause? It is no less
surprising than true, the measures they adopt to serve their master
have the quite contrary effect. Abler generals, and much more
experienced officers than you can pretend to be are by fortune of war
now in my hands. This fortune may one day be yours; when it may
not be in the power of anything human to save you from the just
resentment of an injured people." [General Gates's letter, published in
the British Remembrancer.]

After this letter, General Gates stayed only to make the necessary
arrangements, and immediately moved on to the relief of the sufferers
in that quarter. On the approach of the renowned conqueror of
Burgoyne, the marauding parties under General Vaughan, Wallace,
and Governor Tryon, all retied to New York, there to give an account
to administration of their barbarous exploits against the defenseless
villages.

General Clinton with 3000 troops, in conjunction with Commodore

Hotham, had entered the Hudson in the beginning of October. At a
great expense of men on both sides, they took possession of Stoney
Point, Verplanks, and the forts Montgomery and Clinton.

The posts on the Hudson were defended by officers of dexterity and

skill. Governor Clinton of New York, a gentleman distinguished for his
patriotism, military talents, and unshaken firmness in the cause of his
country, commanded the Forts Clinton and Montgomery. General
Putnam, an experienced and meritorious officer, as stationed lower
down the river. But thought he works were strong, and defended with
courage and ability by the American officers, they were overpowered
by the number of the enemy, and obliged to retreat with precipitation.
After the storming of the Forts Clinton and Montgomery, many of the
soldiers, and some officers were made prisoners. The retreat of
those who escaped was effected with difficulty. Governor Clinton
himself had time only to escape by crossing the river in a boat.

The Count Grabouski, a Polish nobleman, a volunteer in the British

army, fell in the storm of other forts, as did Major Sill, and several
other officers of much military merit. General Clinton had laid waste
the borders, dismantled the forts, burnt most of the houses, and
spread terror and devastation on both sides of the Hudson. General
Vaughan was left to finish the business. In one of his letters
transmitted to England by Lord Viscount Howe, he boasts that "he
had not left one house in the flourishing and industrious town of
Esopus"; and offers no other reason for reducing it to ashes but that
"the inhabitants had the temerity to fire from their houses on his
advance" to rob them of liberty, property, and life. This is a mode of
making war that the politeness and civilization of modern Europe has
generally agreed to criminate, though still practiced by many inhuman
conquerors; but it was revived and adopted in the American system,
with all the ferocity that stimulated the ancient barbarians to sink in
conflagration the Italian cities.

These instances of severity were not singular. The same mad fury
was exercised in almost every place where the strength and power of
Britain obtained the advantage. This became the source of perpetual
jealousies and destroyed all confidence between Britons and
Americans, even in the faith of treaties. Thus some intimations from
General Burgoyne while at Cambridge that the terms of convention
were not fully complied with on the part of America, and some
equivocal conduct with regard to the embarkation of the troops raised
a suspicion that the British officers intended to evade their
engagement and transport the captured army to New York, instead of
conveying them directly to England, as stipulated.

This was grounded on a proposal that the convention troops should

march to Newport and there embark. This occasioned a resolve of
Congress "that the troops should remain in their quarters at
Cambridge until an explicit ratification of the Convention of Saratoga
should be properly notified to Congress by the Court of Great
Britain." This was heavily complained of by General Burgoyne and
his officers, who said that this step was sinking the dignity, and a
breach of faith in that respected body. Political casuistry frequently
palliates the deviations from rectitude in public bodies. Sound policy
might justify the measure, but it is yet doubtful whether there was
sufficient reason to believe that Burgoyne meant to break his
engagements and throw his troops into New York, to be immediately
again employed against the United States.

New causes arose to enhance the difficulties of their exchange or their

return to their native country. Thus this idle and dissipated army lay
too long in the neighborhood of Boston for the advantage of either
side. While there in durance, they disseminated their manners; they
corrupted the students of Harvard College, and the youth of the
capital and its environs, who were allured to enter into their gambling
parties, and other scenes of licentiousness. They became acquainted
with the designs, the resources, and the weaknesses of America; and
there were many among them, whose talents and capacity rendered
them capable of making the most mischievous use of their
knowledge. After long altercations between General Phillips and
General Heath, who commanded in that quarter, relative to the
disorders that took place among the soldiery of both parties, and
mutual charges of breaches of the articles o convention, Congress
directed that the British troops should march to Charlotteville in
Virginia. They accordingly left Cambridge on November 10, 1778.

General Burgoyne had early requested leave to repair to England on

parole, pleading the broken state of his health, the deranged situation
of his private affairs, and the hazard of character, if not present to
defend himself on the tidings of his defeat. He was permitted by
Congress to depart, and arrived in England in May, 1778. But he met
a very ungracious reception both from the people, the ministry, and his
king. Notwithstanding his abilities to serve, and his fidelity to his
master, he was refused an audience by Majesty, a court of
inquisition , or a court martial, and for some time a hearing in the
House of Commons.

He had left England in the sanguine expectation of carrying conquest

before him, wherever he appeared, and of subduing the Americans
and restoring tranquility to the revolted colonies. He had returned on
parole by the favor of that authority he had ever despised, and left his
army in the hands of his enemies. The debates in Parliament on the
occasion were warm and interesting. Some law officers of the Crown
insisted that as a prisoner he was bound by his first engagements.
They said to talk of a trial without the power to punish was a farce. It
was urged "that as a prisoner, he was not capable of acting in his
personal capacity; and that under his present obligations, he was
totally incapacitated for the exercise of any civil office, in competent
to any civil function, and incapable of bearing arms in his country."
[Parliamentary debates.]

Thus was the haughty Burgoyne affronted and mortified, after long
and faithful services to his king and country. He was ordered
immediately to repair to America as a prisoner, according to his
engagements; but as the ill state of his health prevented his
compliance, he was persecuted until he resigned all his employments
under the crown.
After some time had elapsed, General Burgoyne was permitted the
opportunity of speaking for himself in the House of Commons, where
he defended his own reputation ad cause with ability and spirit. In the
course of his argument, he cast many severe censures on the
ministry; and did not scruple to pronounce them totally incapable of
supporting the weight of public affairs, in the present dangerous and
critical emergency, into which they had brought the nation. Nor was
he without many powerful advocates, who both ridiculed and
reprobated the severity with which he was treated. Strong intimations
had been suggested, both within and without doors, that it might be
thought expedient that the General should be sacrificed to save the
reputation of the minister. Several expressions of his previous to his
capture intimated his own apprehensions. In a letter to the Secretary
of State, he said, "my confidence is still placed in the justice of the
King and his Council, to

support the general they had thought proper to appoint to as arduous

an undertaking and under as positive directions as a cabinet ever
signed." In the same letter, he gave his opinion of the number and
discipline of the American troops and the many

difficulties he had to encounter without the liberty of acting at

discretion.

General Burgoyne observed himself, with regard to American bravery,

when speaking of the action of September 19, "few actions have
been characterized by more obstinacy in attack or defense. The
British bayonet was repeatedly tried ineffectually. 1100 British
soldiers, foiled in these trials, bore incessant fire from a succession of
fresh troops, in superior numbers, for above four hours; and after a
loss of above a third of their numbers, (and in one of the regiments
about two-thirds) forced the enemy at last. Of a detachment of a
captain and 48 artillery-men, the captain and 36 men were killed or
wounded. These facts are marked by a concurrence of evidence that
no man can dispute. The tribute of praise due to such troops will not
be wanting in this generous nation; and it will certainly be
accompanied with a just portion of shame to those who have dared to
depreciate or fully valor so conspicuous; who have their ears open
only to the prejudice of American cowardice, and having been always
loud upon that courtly topic, stifle the glory of their countrymen to
maintain a base consistency." He also adds with regard to the action
of October 7, "if there can be any persons who, after considering the
circumstances of this day, continue to doubt that the Americans
possess the quality and faculty of fighting, (call it by whatever name
they please) they are of a prejudice that it would be very absurd
longer to contend with." But no hazard

or fatigue, bravery or misfortune was thought a sufficient apology for

the loss of his army.

The northern expedition had been a favorite object with the British
administration. They were sanguine enough to suppose, and the
nation was led to believe, that success in that quarter would reduce
the turbulent spirits of Americans so low as to prevent further energy
of opposition, and bring the whole country to a due sense of
subordination, and unconditional submission to the authority of
Parliament. The low ebb of American affairs at the southward,
previous to the success of General Gates, gave some reasonable
grounds for such an expectation. It is not strange that a
disappointment in this favorite object, which was calculated, if
successful, to redound much to the glory of the British arms, should
be equally mortifying to the pride of the ministry, and the high-spirited
people of England, or that it threw the Parliament and the nation into
a ferment, that did not easily subside. Many gentlemen of
distinguished talents, did honor to the feelings of the heart, and the
sagacity of their understanding, while it was a subject of
parliamentary debate, by their humane, sensible, and judicious
speeches, interspersed with pointed wit, and brilliancy of sentiment.
The conquest and capture of General Burgoyne and the British army
under his command was undoubtedly the most fortunate
circumstance for the United States that had yet taken place. It was
the most capital and eventful military transaction from the
commencement to the close of the American war. The termination of
this expedition opened new views to the philosopher, the politician,
and the hero, both at home and abroad. It disseminated a spirit and
produced effects throughout America, which had been neither
anticipated nor calculated until her sons paraded in the style of the
conqueror before the humiliated bands of veteran British and German
prisoners.

So many thousands of brave men and distinguished officers led

captive through the wilderness, the plains, and the cities of the United
States was a spectacle never before beheld by the inhabitants; and
the impression it made on their minds was in proportion to the novelty
of the scene and the magnitude of its consequences. It was viewed
as a prelude to events of the highest moment, both to the arms and to
the future negotiations of the United States. British battalions were
no longer deemed invulnerable, even by the most timid and
uninformed sons of America. That formidable power which had
spread dismay through the colonies, they now beheld as the object of
curiosity, and her armies were viewed more in the light of compassion
than of terror.

Nor were the troops o the United States longer considered as a mere
undisciplined rabble, either by the Parliament or the people of
England. Their armies began to appear formidable; and conciliation
was pressed from very respectable characters. From the moment of
their recent victory, the United States were beheld in a still more
honorable light by the other European powers. Most of them had yet
stood undecided and wavering; none of them seemed determined on
which side to declare or whether to look coolly on, as uninterested
spectators, until Great Britain had sufficiently chastised her rebellious
children. It is true some loans of money had been obtained from
France previous to this period, and the sale of prizes had been
 permitted in the Gallic ports; but this appeared to be more in
consequence of the benevolence and the enthusiasm of the people,
than the result of any governmental system to aid America effectually,
in her struggle for freedom and independence.

The consequences of the brilliant success of General Gates, the

influence of this event on the opinion of foreign nations, its operation
on the councils of Britain, its effects on the policy of several European
courts, and its important consequences throughout America, will be
related concisely in the subsequent part of these annals.

But it is proper before we conclude the present chapter to detail a few

other circumstances relative to General Burgoyne. After some time
had elapsed and the agitation of parties so far cooled as to permit
him the public defense of his character, he gave an affecting epitome
of his feelings, his difficulties and embarrassments in the northern
expedition. He observed, "the remembrance of what I personally
underwent cannot easily be suppressed; and I am sure I shall not
outgo the indulgence of the candid, if in delineating situations so
affecting, I add feelings to justification. The defense of military
conduct is an interesting point of professional honor; but to vindicate
the heart, is a duty to God and to society at large.

"Few conjunctures in the campaign I have been describing, few

perhaps upon military record, can be found so distinguished by
exigencies or productive of such critical and anxious calls upon public
character and private affection as that which now took place.

"In the first place, the position of the army was untenable; and yet an
immediate retreat was impossible, not only from the fatigue of the
troops, but from the necessity of delivering fresh ammunition and
provisions.

"The losses in the action were uncommonly severe. Sir Francis

Clarke, my aide decamp, had originally recommended himself to my
attention by his talents and diligence. As service and intimacy opened
his character more, he became endeared to me by every quality that
can create esteem. I lost in him a useful assistant, an amiable
companion, an attached friend. The state was deprived by his death
of one of the fairest promises of an able general.

"The fate of Colonel Ackland, taken prisoner and then supposed to be

mortally wounded, was a second source of anxiety. General Frazier
was expiring.

"In the course of the action, a shot had passed through my hat, and
another had torn my waistcoat. I should be sorry to be thought at any
time, insensible to the protecting hand of Providence; but I ever more
particularly considered (and I hope not superstitiously) a soldier's
hair-breadth escapes as incentives to duty, a marked renewal of the
trust of being, for the due purposes of a public station; and under that
reflection, to lose our fortitude by giving way to our affections, to be
diverted by any possible self-emotion, from meeting a present
exigency with our best faculties, were at once dishonor and impiety."
[Burgoyne's defense.]

Perhaps no general officer ever experienced a greater variety of

untoward circumstances, than General Burgoyne before the
Convention, and the surrender of his army to the victorious
Americans. It requires a lively imagination to comprehend a full view
of the difficulty of marching an army, composed of heterogeneous
materials from Quebec to Saratoga, to traverse a forlorn wilderness,
pathless thickets and swamps, extensive sheets of water, and
navigable lakes defended by a resolute enemy, covered by strong
works, that cost the waste of many of his troops to overcome.

It is true his German allies were brave and the usual value of British
troops needs no encomium; but the Canadians and the loyalists could
not be depended on, and the hordes of savages that joined his train
were more the objects of terror than assistance, even to the masters
under whom they had enlisted. They pillaged, plundered, threatened,
and occasionally murdered their friends, and when the case grew
desperate, retreated in tribes to take shelter in their distant forests.

Of the loyalists, General Burgoyne thus observes, "Many of them had

taken refuge in Canada the preceding winter, and others had joined
us as we advanced. The various interests which influenced their
actions, rendered all arrangement of them impracticable. One man's
views went to the profit he was to enjoy when his corps should be
complete; another, to the protection of the district in which he resided;
a third was wholly intent on revenge against his personal enemies;
and all of them were repugnant even to an idea of subordination.
Hence, the settlement who should act as a private man, and who as
an officer, or in whose corps either should be, was seldom
satisfactorily made among themselves; and as surely as it failed,
succeeded a reference to the commander in chief, which could not be
put by, or delegated to another hand, without dissatisfaction, increase
of confusion, and generally a

loss of such services as they were really fit for; viz. searching for
cattle, ascertaining the practicability of routes, clearing roads, and
building detachments or columns on the march." He farther observed
that "the interests and passions of the revolted 'Americans concenter
in the cause of the Congress and those of the loyalists break and
subdivide into various pursuits, with which the cause of the King has
little or nothing to do."

From these and other circumstances above detailed, even prejudice

itself ought to allow a due share of praise to General Burgoyne for
maintaining his resolution and perseverance so long, rather than to
wound his character by censure, either as a soldier, a man of honor
and humanity, or a faithful servant to his king.

But talents, valor, or virtue, are seldom a security against the

vindictive spirit of party, or the resentment that results from the failure
of favorite political projects. Thus, ;though the military abilities of
General Burgoyne had been conspicuous and his services
acknowledged by his country, yet from the mortification of the
Monarch, the court, and the people of England, on the disgrace of
their arms at Saratoga, he was not only suffered, but obliged to retire.

Thought he marked resentment of administration was long kept up

against this unfortunate officer, he did not spend all the remainder of
his days in private and literary pursuits. It is true he never again
acted in a military capacity; but time relieved the present oppression
when he again took his seat in Parliament and with manly eloquence
not only defended the rights and liberties of his native isle against the
arbitrary systems in vogue, but asserted the justice and propriety of
American opposition. This he did with becoming dignity and an
impartiality which he never might have felt, but from the failure of this
northern expedition. The reputation the American arms acquired by
this defeat, not only humbled the proud tone of many British officers
besides General Burgoyne, but did much to hasten the alliance with
France, and brought forward events that accelerated the
independence of America.

*************************

Note 1

General Burgoyne's instructions to Lieutenant Colonel Baum.

"The object of your expedition is to try the affection of the country; to

disconcert the councils of the enemy; to mount the Reidesel
dragoons; to complete Petre's corps; and to obtain large supplies of
cattle, horses, and carriages.

"The several corps, of which the enclosed is a list, are to be under

your command.

"The troops must take no tents; and what little baggage is carried by
the officers must be on their own battalion horses.

"You are to proceed from Batten Kill to Arlington, and take post there
until the detachment of the provincials under the command of Captain
Sherwood shall join you from the southward.

"You are then to proceed to Manchester, where you will again take
post so as to secure the pass of the mountains on the road from
Manchester to Rockingham; from thence you will detach the Indians
an light troops to the northward, towards Otter Creek. On their return,
and receiving intelligence that no enemy is upon the Connecticut
River, you will proceed by the road over the mountains to
Rockingham, where you will take post. This will be the most distant
part of the expedition and must be proceeded upon with caution, as
you will have the defiles of the mountains behind you, which might
make a retreat difficult. You must therefore endeavor to be well
informed of the force of the enemy's militia in the neighboring country;
should you find it may with prudence be effected, you are to remain
there, while the Indians and light troops are detached up the river;
and you are afterwards to descend the river to Brattleborough; and
from that place, by the quickest march, you are to return by the great
road to Albany.

"During your whole progress, your detachments are to have orders to

bring in to you all horses fit to mount the dragoons under your
command or to serve as battalion horses for the troops, together with
as many saddles and bridles as can be found. The number of horses
requisite besides those necessary for mounting the regiment of
dragoons ought to be 1300. If you can bring more, for the use of the
army, it will be so much the better. Your parties are likewise to bring
in wagons and other convenient carriages, with as many draught
oxen as will be necessary to draw them. And all cattle fit for slaughter
(milch cows excepted, which are to be left for the use of the
inhabitants). Regular receipts in the form hereto subjoined, are to be
given in all places, where any of the above articles are taken, to such
persons as have remained in their habitations and otherwise
complied with the terms of General Burgoyne's manifesto; but no
receipt to be given to such as are known to be acting in the service of
the rebels. As you will have with you persons perfectly acquainted
with the country, it may perhaps be advisable to tax the several
districts with the portions of the several articles and limit the hours for
the delivery; and should you find it necessary to move before such
delivery can be made, hostages of the most respectable people
should be taken, to secure their following you the next day.

"All possible means are to be used to prevent plundering. As it is

probable that Captain Sherwood, who is already detached to the
southward, and will join you at Arlington, will drive a considerable
quantity of cattle and horses to you, you will therefore send in these
cattle to the army, with a proper detachment from Petre's corps, to
cover them, in order to disencumber yourself; but you must always
keep the regiment of dragoons compact. The dragoons themselves
must ride, and take care of the horses of the regiment. Those horses
that are destined for the use of the army must be tied in strings of ten
each, in order that one man may lead ten horses. You will give the
unarmed men in Petre's corps to conduct them and inhabitants whom
you can trust.

"You must always keep your camps in good position, but at the same
time where there is pasture; and you must have a chain of sentinels
around your cattle when grazing.

"Colonel Skeene will be with you as much as possible, in order to

distinguish the good subjects from the bad, to procure the best
intelligence of the enemy, and choose those people who are to bring
me the accounts of your progress and success.
"When you find it necessary to halt a day or two, you must always
entrench the camp of the regiment of dragoons in order never to risk
an attack or affront from the enemy.

"As you will return with the regiment of dragoons mounted, you must
always have a detachment of Captain Frazier's or Petre's corps in
front of the column, and the same in the rear, in order to prevent your
falling into an ambuscade, when you march through the woods.

"You will use all possible means to make the country believe that the
troops under your command are the advanced corps of the army, and
that it is intended to pass to Connecticut on the road to Boston. You
will likewise intimate that the main army from Albany is to be joined at
Springfield by a corps of troops from Rhode Island.

"It is highly probable that the corps under Mr. Warner, now supposed
to be at Manchester, will retreat before you; but should they, contrary
to expectation, be able to collect in great force and post themselves
advantageously, it is left to your discretion to attack them or not;
always bearing in mend that your corps is too valuable to let any
considerable loss be hazarded on this occasion.

"Should any corps be moved from Mr. Arnold's main army, in order to
interrupt your retreat, you are to take as strong a post as the country
will afford, and send the quickest intelligence to me; and you may
depend on my making such movements as shall put the enemy
between two fires, or otherwise effectually sustain you.

"It is imagine the progress of the whole of this expedition may be

effected in about a fortnight; but every movement of it must depend
on your success in obtaining such supplies of provisions as will
enable you to subsist for your return in this army, in case you can get
no more. And should not the army be able to reach Albany, before
your expedition should be completed. I will find means to send you
notice of it, and give your route another direction.

"All persons acting in committees or any officers under the direction of

the Congress, either civil or military, to be made prisoners.

"I heartily wish you success; and have the honor to be, sir, your
humble servant,

"John Burgoyne, Lieutenant General

"Headquarters, August 9, 1777."

***********************************

Note 2

It was several years after the confederation of the thirteen American

states before Vermont was added to the union. The inhabitants kept
up a long and severe altercation with the several governments, who
claimed both territory and authority, until

on the point of decision by the sword, both parties appealed to the

General Congress. This was a business that divided and
embarrassed and was not terminated until the agents of Britain
interfered and offered advantageous terms to the Vermonters, if they
would withdraw from the confederated states and become a province
of Britain.

From their love of liberty and their attachment to their country, these
offers were rejected, though they complained heavily of the delays
and evasions of the Congress. Rough as their native mountains,
strong and flinty as the rocks that surrounded them, they bid defiance
to dangers; and equally despised the intrigues of Britain, the
subterfuges of the claimants on their territory, and the suspension in
which they were held for a time by Congress. They resisted
obstinately the interferences and claims of the neighboring
governments; their alienation from them, and their hatred to the state
of New York, in particular, daily increased. And in spite of all
opposition, they continued their claims and supported their rights to be
considered a free, independent, and separate state, entitled to the
same privilege as the thirteen old colonies.

Colonel Ethan Allen, one of their principal leaders; a man of courage

and ferocity, of pride without dignity, a writer without learning, a man
of consequence merely from a bold presumptive claim to a capacity
for everything; without education, and possessed of little intrinsic
merit;; wrote to Congress on this occasion and observed "that
Vermont has an indubitable right to agree to terms of a cessation of
hostilities with Great Britain, provided the United States persist in a
rejection of her application for a union with them. But not disposed to
yield to the overtures of the British government," he added, "I am as
resolutely determined to defend the independence of Vermont, as
Congress are that of the United States; and rather than fail, will retire
with hardy Green Mountain Boys into the desolate caverns of the
mountains and wage war with human nature at large."

After long suspension and many impediments, Congress thought

proper, in order to prevent the effusion of blood among themselves,
which this occasion threatened, to accede to the reasonable
demands of these legitimate sons of freedom, who chose delegates
from Congress, maintained their independence, and were a strong
link in the confederated chain against the encroachments and the
power of Britain." [A further description of the settlement and progress
of the Hampshire Grants may be seen at large in a late accurate
history of Vermont written by Doctor Samuel Williams. This work is
replete with moral and philosophical observations, which are
honorary to the very sensible writer, and at once entertain and
improve the reader.
**********************

Note 3

The afflictions of this extraordinary lad did not terminate in America.

By the assiduity of the physicians and the tender care of a most
affectionate wife, Major Ackland partially recovered from his wounds
in a short time, and was permitted to repair to New York. It was not
long before his health was sufficiently restored to embark for
England; but his wounds incurable, and his mind depressed, he was
led to habits of intemperance that soon put a period to his life.

The death of her husband and the domestic afflictions of the family of
Lord Ilchester, the father of Lady Ackland, all combined to overpower
the heroism of a mind superior to most of her sex, and involved this
unfortunate lady in a deep and irretrievable melancholy.

________________

Chapter Twelve: Observations on the conduct of the British

Parliament, previous to the capture of Burgoyne. The ineffectual
efforts of the commissioners sent to America in consequence of Lord
North's Conciliatory Bill. Their attempts to corrupt individuals and
public bodies. Negotiation broken off. Manifesto published by the
commissioners. Counter Declaration by Congress. Sir William Howe
repairs to England

While America gloried in her recent successes against the northern

army, and was making all possible preparations for vigorous action at
the southward, the coercive system in Britain was so far from being
relaxed that the most severe measures were urged with bitterness
and acrimony. The speeches of the King were in the same tone of
despotism as formerly; the addresses of Parliament were in the usual
style of compliment and applause; as if they had little else to do but to
keep each other in good humor until alienation was complete and the
colonies so far connected with other powers that there could be no
hope of reconciliation.

But though a unison of sentiment and a perfect conformity to the royal

will previous to the new of Burgoyne's defeat appeared in the majority
of both houses of Parliament, yet the measures of the ministry were,
as usual, warmly opposed by some gentlemen of the first abilities in
the nation. Several of the principal nobility were in the minority and
urged an accommodation before American should be irretrievably
lost. It was recommended to the minister "rather to forge bands of
amity for the minds than chains for the bodies of Americans." The
present moment of uncertainty with regard to success was urged as
the proper season for giving the most unequivocal proofs of cordiality,
by requesting His Majesty to order a cessation of hostilities and the
immediate adoption of measures for accommodation. [Debates in
Parliament before the new of the termination of the northern campaign
reached England.]

Mr. Fox, whose powers of oratory were the admiration of the world,
not only reasoned against their measures, but ridiculed the ministry in
the most pointed manner, for their ignorance of America from the
outset of the controversy. He alleged "that they had mistaken the
extent of the thirteen colonies, and considered the Massachusetts as
including the whole." Nor were they less mistaken in the weight of
opposition they had to encounter. He observed "they had ever been
blind to the consequences of their own measures, or they never
would have rejected the most dutiful and loyal petitions; more
especially that presented by Mr. Penn, late governor of Pennsylvania,
even after the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill." [See Note 4, at
the end of this chapter] He expatiated on the absurdity and injustice
of the Bill for Transporting Americans to England for Trial, the Quebec
Act, the Restraining Bill, the Declaratory Act, and the Boston Port Bill.

All papers relative to America for three years past were ordered to be
laid before the House; and the state of the army and the expenditures
in the course of the war loudly called for. But amidst the severe
scrutiny of the House, the anxiety of the nation, the perseverance of
the King, and the perplexity of the minister, all parties were
thunderstruck by the arrival of the intelligence of Burgoyne's defeat
and the capture of the army at Saratoga.

A general gloom overspread every countenance; the severest

censures were cast on the late measures of administration;
indignation burnt in the bosoms of those who opposed them; clamor
raged without doors; asperity, sarcasm, and reproach from the lip of
truth within; and, notwithstanding his abilities and his firmness, the
minister was distressed and minority increased, and opposition was
strengthened.

Lord Chatham rose with his usual energy, eloquence, and

commanding spirit, and reprobated both the war and the mode of
prosecuting it; and with vehemence and acrimony asserted, "that a
court system of wickedness "had been adopted for the last 15 years,
subversive of all faith and confidence, tending to extinguish all
principle in the different orders of the community; and that an
ascendancy had been obtained by worthless men, the dregs of party,
where no influence ought to exist. That a spirit of delusion had gone
forth, the people had been deceived by ministers, and Parliament had
sanctioned the deception. False lights had been held out to the
country gentlemen, imposed on by the ideal project of an American
revenue; but that the visionary phantom, conjured up for the basest
purposes of deception,

was about to vanish."

The minister [Lord North], though attacked, mortified, and

embarrassed, retreated with ability and address from ground to
ground, through the debates, and endeavored to shift the blame from
himself and cause the failure of the system and the odium of
disappointment on the want of capacity in the officers employed. He
manifested his regret for the unhappy differences between the two
countries in passionate expressions and urged that the conciliatory
plan he had proposed some time before might be immediately
adopted; and that commissioners should be sent to America with
powers to restore tranquility without further delay. He acknowledged
that he began to despair of reducing the colonies by arms, unless a
disunion could be effected and the intervention of foreign powers in
their behalf decidedly prevented.

But the people in several counties were so infatuated by the popular

theme of an American revenue that subscriptions were opened in
London, Bristol, and other places for raising and supporting a body of
troops at private expense to supply the deficiencies in the army by
the Convention of Saratoga. The legality of this measure was
contested in both houses of Parliament; and a resolve was proposed
by the Earl of Abingdon "that granting moneys for private uses and
without the sanction of Parliament was against both the letter and the
spirit of the constitution; that obtaining money by subscription and
applying it to His Majesty's use, in such manner as he should think fit,
was unconstitutional, and a direct infringement of the principles of the
British constitution." But the measure was not discountenanced by
authority, and the subscriptions went on.

If not first suggested by them, these subscriptions were encouraged

by some of the most affluent of the American refugees, who had
repaired to England on the retreat of General Howe from Boston.
This appearance of settled rancor against their native country
increased the resentment of their countrymen; and in consequence
thereof, some of their estates, which had been only sequestered, were
confiscated and sold, and the moneys arising therefrom deposited in
the public treasury. But many of this class of people who laid their
real or pretended sufferings before administration, were afterwards
amply provided for by the liberality of the British government, though
not adequate to their own expectations.
All Europe had beheld with astonishment and applause the exertions
and struggles of the America colonies against the opulence, the
arms, and the intrigues of Britain. It was now three years that they
had with uncommon resolution and systematical decision supported
their armaments by sea and land, without a single ally.

The American Congress had indeed, as early as the beginning of the

autumn, 1776, appointed commercial agents to several European
courts, empowering them to procure arms, ammunition, and clothing,
on the credit of the United States. They were received politely by the
nation, though not publicly countenanced by the Court of France, on
their first arrival. Yet their negotiations had been favorable to trade
and to the condemnation of a vast number of prizes that had been
taken by the Americans and sent into the several ports of France.

Doctor Franklin was soon after empowered to act as an American

plenipotentiary there, and arrived in France, December, 1776. The
celebrity of his character and the popularity of his mission insured him
the warmest reception from all ranks; and the minister [the Count de
Vergennes] gave him private encouragement to hope for all
necessary aid, and a full completion of the wishes of his constituents.
The Spanish ambassador, likewise, at this time requested copies of
his instructions, and a sketch of the state of America, which he
forwarded to his Catholic Majesty, as the two courts were determined
to act in perfect unison, although no national compact was completed
between France and America until early in the year 1778. [See Doctor
Franklin's letter to Congress, March 1778.]

It required time to ripen a measure in a despotic court, to support a

struggle like the present; a struggle unparalleled in modern nations.
An effort for the liberties of mankind by colonial opposition to the
parent state, the proud and potent sovereignty of Britain, might
rationally be expected to have an influence on the political systems of
the greatest part of Europe. Besides, the intrigues of the British
cabinet and the policy of France might cooperate to postpone the
event of any foreign alliance with the colonies, until American
firmness had been tried in the ordeal of affliction, and her constancy
and success had rendered her more respectable in the eyes of older
nations and long practiced statesmen.

But the conquest and capture of a British army, commanded by

officers of distinguished name and abilities, was considered as a
decided proof of the importance of the connection, and hastened the
determination of France to conclude a treaty that might cut off all
hope of reconciliation between the colonies and the mother country.
Thus on February 6, 1778, a treat of alliance, amity, and commerce
was signed by the minister on the part of France and by Benjamin
Franklin, Arthur Lee, and Silas Deane, Esquires, on the part o the
United States of America. Doctor Franklin was immediately
introduced to His Most Christian Majesty, as the minister
plenipotentiary for the American states; and on the May following, the
Sieur Gerard arrived on the continent, in quality of ambassador, and
was introduced in form to the American Congress.

This mortifying event had for some time been predicted by the
minority in the British Parliament; yet the minister affected to
disbelieve even the probability of its taking place; and as late as
March 11, 1778 desired "that it might be remembered he declared in
his place that he knew of no such treaty, either in existence or
contemplation." Only eight days after this, the Duc de Noailles, in the
name of his sovereign, announced the treaty in form; and a rescript
thereof was delivered to the King of Great Britain.

The ignorance or incapacity of the minister in not obtaining more early

intelligence of the conduct of the House of Bourbon, or his
wickedness in concealing the information if he had received it, was
echoed from the House to the City, and from the City through the
nation. But there was little reason to doubt, notwithstanding the
solemn declaration of the minister, that he had obtained more
authentic documents than he was willing to acknowledge, of the
transactions of the French cabinet. This was undoubtedly the reason
why the Conciliatory Bills were hurried through both houses and sent
over to Lord and General Howe before the Act was completed or
commissioners named for the purpose.

Many distinguished members in both houses of Parliament insisted

that an immediate suspension of hostilities and a direct
acknowledgment of the independence of America was the only
medium of safety. They justly observed that burning some of their
fairest towns, desolating their lands, plundering their houses, and
abusing their wives and daughters had left such an acrimonious
stamp on the minds of Americans as destroyed all faith and
confidence in the appearances of accommodation, or advances
towards reconciliation. Others still sanguine in prosecution of
measures less derogatory to the pride of Britain, urged a change of
ministry and a new arrangement of officers in both the civil an military
departments. AT the same time they urged that commissioners
should be appointed to repair to America to confer with Congress as
a legal body or with the state legislatures in their present form; and
that they should be authorized to offer a cessation of hostilities, a
repeal of all obnoxious bills, a free trade, a representation in
Parliament, and, in short, almost everything they could wish, except
an explicit acknowledgment of independence.

This mode was adopted and commissioners appointed to make

overtures from the parent state that would once have been received
with the highest tokens of gratitude. But that period was irretrievably
passed. Probably had administration taken a cool retrospect of the
natural operations of the human mind and reflected on the insult and
mortification, of the repeated rejection of sincere and ardent petitions;
of the commencement of hostilities by staining the sword with the
blood of innocence; of the miseries that awaited the unhappy victims,
which the uncertain chances of war had thrown into their hands; and
the numberless instances of deception, that had been practiced on
the less experienced politicians of America -- they must themselves
have been sensible that all ideas of peace on any conditions but the
most decided acknowledgment of the independence of the United
States were precluded.

But men impelled by a partiality for systems of their own fabricating,

whether they originated in passion, plausibility, or interest, can
seldom bend their pride to a generous dereliction of their favorite
object, though reason or time might have brought to their view a full
conviction of its absurdity or impracticability.

Great Britain was at this time herself without allies; nor had she any
reason to expect the assistance of foreigners to facilitate the
subjugation of America, except the auxiliaries she had obtained at an
immense expense from some of the petty princes of Germany. They
had some time before applied to the states of Holland to send forward
a Scotch brigade in their service in aid of their hostile operations
against the colonies; but by a single voice of one of their honest
republicans, it was presented, and the proposal rejected in a style
characteristic of his nation. He observed that "it was more proper for
Britain to hire janisaries for their purpose than to apply to the
Batavians, who had so dearly purchased their own liberties." [Speech
of Van der Capellen, in the Assembly of Overyssel.]

Thus, while a war with France was apprehended to be the immediate

and inevitable consequence of the weak, pernicious, and perverse
councils of the British cabinet, the opposition declared the nation had
everything to fear from the House of Bourbon, and nothing to hope
from the assistance of other European powers. These circumstances
generally known, occasioned the most painful feelings to those who
were actuated by the principles of justice or humanity; nor were the
minds of such as were influenced only by the rancor of party, much
more tranquil. But the loss of the colonies, the independence of
America, her connection with France their hereditary fore, could not
yet be digested by the King, the ministry, or the nation; and the
conciliatory proposals were voted to be carried forward on other
principles than those of humanity or equity. The army and navy
establishments were augmented; and the proud display of war,
power, and conquest as again to accompany the soft voice of peace
and reunion.

The gentlemen appointed to undertake the arduous work of

conciliation with the American states, after the inhumanity and
irritation of a three years war, were the Earl of Carlisle, Sir William
Eden, Governor Johnstone, and Sir Henry Clinton. Qualified for
negotiation and determined if possible to reunite the revolted colonies
with Great Britain, they left England with these flattering expectations,
and arrived in the Delaware the latter part of May, amid every
preparation on both sides for opening a vigorous campaign.

During their residence in America, they faithfully executed their trust;

and by every exertion, both in their joint and separate capacity, they
endeavored to fulfill the expectations of their sovereign. Yet from the
reception which Congress had recently given to a previous intimation
of their designs, the commissioners could have no very sanguine
hopes of success.

General Howe had, as early as April 21, sent a flat to General

Washington, informing him of his own expectations. At the same
time, he transmitted him a copy of the Conciliatory Bill. These the
General immediately forwarded to Congress, who appointed a
committee to consider the proposition. It did not take much time to
deliberate before the committee reported a number of reasons why
the proposals of the British Court appeared to them fallacious; and
that it was "their opinion that the United States could with no propriety
hold any conference or treaty with commissioners on the part of
Britain, unless as a preliminary they withdrew their fleets and armies
and in positive and express terms acknowledged the independence of
the United States."

This spirited language, before any account of the completion of any

treaty with France had arrived in America, discovered a due
dependence on their own magnanimity and firmness; and by the
dignity of their resolutions, Congress manifested a consciousness of
the justice of their cause and a reliance on that providential support
they had hitherto remarkably experienced.

Perhaps at no time since hostilities had commenced between Great

Britain and the colonies, could the United States have been found
less disposed to negotiate on the terms now offered by the British
government, than at the present.

When the commissioners arrived, they found the news of an alliance

with France, and a treaty of amity and commerce with that nation had
reached York Town, where Congress was sitting, on May 2, very short
time after they had rejected the proposals sent on by Lord Howe.
[These overtures were rejected on April 28, 1778. See Journals of
Congress.]

All America was apprised of the divisions in the British Parliament, and
happy in their own unanimity. An ambassador had been appointed to
repair to America, and her independence was acknowledged by one
of the first courts in Europe. The brilliant successes of the last year,
and the promising appearances on the opening the campaign of the
present, all cooperated to lead the Congress and the state legislatures
to continue the high tone of sensibility and dignity, becoming a free
and independent people, just emancipated from foreign domination.
The commander in chief, the officers of the army, the soldiers in the
field, and indeed every description of people, felt a new degree of
enthusiasm, enkindled from the sanguine expectation of all necessary
aid, in consequence of an alliance with France, which was now
completed to their wishes.

The commissioners on their arrival lost no time. they immediately

opened their correspondences both public and private. The secretary
to this commission was the celebrated Doctor Ferguson, a gentleman
well known in the literary world by his elegant historical and
philosophical writings. Yet the respect for his character and abilities
which would have insured his welcome on any occasion unconnected
with political considerations, could not influence Congress to rant him
passports, as requested by the commissioners, only to deliver in
person the credentials for opening a treaty. In consequence of this
refusal, the King's commission, and a letter from the commissioners,
were both sent on by the usual military posts.

The letter contained some flattering advances towards America, and

many complimentary expressions to individuals; but it was without the
smallest appearance of any recognition of the independence of the
United States. Many reproachful strictures on the insidious policy of
France were interwoven in the letter. This rendered their address still
more exceptionable in the eye of Congress; and their overtures were
generally disgusting to the people at large.

In the present crisis, it was not thought either polite or politic by

anyone to interlard the proposals for an accommodation with America
with indelicate reflections on the new allies of the United States,
almost at the moment when Congress had received the most
indubitable proofs of the friendship of the House of Bourbon; and
when every bosom glowed with hope and expectation, of the highest
advantages from an alliance just sealed by each party, and ratified by
Congress, to the mutual satisfaction of both nations.

Yet allowances ought ever to be made for hereditary or national

prejudices, as well as for private disgusts. In both cases the
soreness of the human mind feels the keenest sensibility, when old
wounds are probed by a hand prepared to strike a mortal

blow, the first favorable opportunity. Thus the commissioners and the
British nation beheld with indignation and bitterness the arm of
France, their hated rival, stretched out to rescue their colonies, now
the United States, from the despotic view of the King and Parliament
of England.
When Congress had given the proposals for peace, offered under the
sanction of royal authority, a fair and candid discussion, a reply was
concisely drawn up and signed by the Honorable Henry Laurens,
President of the Continental Congress. It was observed in this
answer to the proposals, that "both the late acts of Parliament, and a
commission empowering a number of gentlemen to negotiate, and the
letter received by Congress from those gentlemen, all went upon the
same mistaken ground, on the supposition that the people of America
were the subjects of the Crown of Britain.

"That such ideas were by no means admissible. Yet notwithstanding

the injustice of the claim on which the war originated, and the savage
manner of conducting it, Congress was inclined to peace, whenever
the King of England should manifest a sincere disposition therefore,
by an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of America, and
by withdrawing his fleets and armies; that they will then enter into a
treaty of commerce, not inconsistent with treaties already existing."

They also referred the commissioners to their resolves and

determinations of April 23,k a short time before the arrival of the
treaty of alliance with France.

This drew out a second letter from the commissioners, drafted with
much art, ability, and address. In this, they observed that "they were
not disposed to dispute about words; that a degree of independence
was admitted in their letter of June 10; that the people of America had
the privilege of disposing of their own property, and to govern
themselves without any reference to Britain, beyond what is
necessary to preserve a union of force, in which mutual safety
consists." They added "that danger from their hereditary enemy and
gratitude to those who had hazarded much for their affection to
Britain must for a time prevent His Majesty from withdrawing his fleets
and armies; but that they were willing to enter on a discussion of
circumstances that might be necessary to secure an enlarge their
independence; and that they wished for a full communication of the
powers by which Congress was authorized to treat with foreign
nations."

They intimated that there had been no resolutions of the particular

assemblies conferring this power. Thus an effort was made in the
beginning of negotiation to diffuse jealousies, and divide the people.
In short, the sophistry that marked their public declarations, and the
insidious proposals made to corrupt private persons were very
unbecoming the negotiators for peace an inconsistent both with the
probity of individual character and the dignity of their master.

It does not appear that the conduct of any of these gentlemen singly
was equally reprehensible with that of Governor Johnstone. By
private letters to some of the members of Congress, [The principal of
these were Joseph Reed and Robert Morris, Esquire, of
Pennsylvania, and Francis Dana or Massachusetts.] he endeavored
to warp their integrity with the flattering promises of distinguished
offices an emoluments in proportion to their risk in promoting the
present views of administration. He was bold enough to say,
"Washington an the president would have a right to everything a
grateful nation could bestow if they would be instrumental once more
in uniting the interests of Great Britain and America." [See Governor
Johnstone's letter to Robert Morris, Esquire, laid before Congress,
June 1778.]

His advances to Mr. Reed, an influential member of Congress, were

still more openly affrontive, by offering him a direct bribe, and naming
the conditions for the sale of his honor. Governor Johnstone
doubtless thought he knew his men, when he selected Mr. Reed,
Robert Morris, Esquire, and Mr. Francis Dana to open his
correspondence with and try the golden effects of secret influence
that had been so often successful in his native land. He might
perhaps think it some extenuation of the affront offered to Mr. Reed
that he had formerly fallen under some suspicions from his
countrymen.

He had been early and zealous in opposition got Britain; had repaired
to Cambridge as aid decamp to General Washington; was afterwards
appointed adjutant general; and continued in habits of intimacy and
confidence with the commander in chief until the retreat through the
Jerseys and the gloomy and desperate situation of American affairs
towards the close of the winter of 1776. His fortitude then forsook
him, [See Cadwallader's letters to and of Mr. Reed. They exhibit
strong suspicions that agitated by fear in the most gloomy period of
American affairs, he really contemplated security for himself and
friends, under the protection of the British standard. This appeared at
the time to be the apprehension of many of his connections.
However, if he was really as culpable as represented by some of
those letters, he soon recovered his firmness, his character, and the
confidence of his country, and the commander in chief.] and
despairing of brighter prospects in his country, more from timidity than
disaffection, he was on the point of relinquishing the public cause. It
was asserted he absolutely applied to Count Donop at Burlington for
a protection for himself and family, on condition of his forsaking his
country, in the lowest stage of her distress and his general and friend,
at a period when he most needed his assistance.

But the brilliant action at Trenton, and the subsequent successes at

Princeton, and other places at the beginning of the year 1777
restored the tone of his nerves so as to enable him to act with
distinguished firmness, fidelity, and bravery on many trying
occasions; and disposed almost everyone to throw a veil over the
momentary weakness of a mind generally well disposed to his
country. [Mr. Reed had publicly announced his regret that a letter
written by him to General Lee in the year 1776 had been published to
the world. He observed that "that letter was written in haste and
written in a moment of great anxiety; not from any diminution of
affection for General Washington" whom he justly styles "a great and
good man." This letter was undoubtedly the result of Mr. Reed's
apprehensions at a period when there was utmost danger, that all
would be lost to America, from various causes that presented more
vigorous operations. But he ever after expressed the highest respect
for the character of the commander in chief; and observed that his
countrymen might rest in

full confidence in the judgment, abilities, and discretion of General

Washington.]

These circumstances were known in the British army, and probably

induced Governor Johnstone to think Mr. Reed a proper subject for
his designs. He proposed as an adequate reward for his treachery if
Mr. Reed would engage his interest to promote the object to their
commission, that he should have any office in the colonies in the gift
of his Britannic Majesty, and the sum of 10,000 pounds sterling in
hand. This extraordinary proposal was made through a lady, who had
some connections in the British army. Finding she expected an
explicit reply, and being a lady of so much respectability as to
demand it, Mr. Reed answered that "he was not worth the purchasing,
but such as he was, the King of Great Britain was not rich enough to
do it."

Mr. Johnstone knew Mr. Morris to be a commercial character, a

speculating genius, a calculator of finances, and a confidential friend
of General Washington. He might probably think that if the
commander in chief of the American army could once be brought to
listen to proposals or to barter his fidelity, no one could make a better
bargain for Britain than Mr. Morris, who had so much the ear and
confidence of General Washington.

From some circumstances in Mr. Dana's former conduct, Mr.

Johnstone might think himself sure of his influence, without bidding
very high; and though liberal of his master's gold, it does appear that
he offered him a direct bribe. Mr. Johnstone's confidence in the
success of his attempt on the fidelity of this gentleman was probably
grounded on a circumstance generally known. Mr. Dana had formerly
fallen under the suspicions of many of his countrymen that he was
not friendly to their opposition of British measures.

This suspicion arose from his having repaired to England a short time
before the commencement of the war. But within a year after the
Battle of Lexington, he had eradicated those prejudices by returning
to his native country, entrusted with some secret communications
from the friends of America then in England. This recommended him
to favor and reconciliation with t his countrymen. They laid aside their
suspicions; and some characters of known integrity brought him
forward, and soon after he was chosen a member of the general
Congress.

The above traits of character might be thought proper materials for a

British commissioner to operate upon, but Governor Johnstone was
mistaken in the character of Americans. For, notwithstanding their
passions, their foibles, or their weaknesses, there were few at that
time who would not have spurned at the idea of being purchased.
They highly resented the effort to tamper with their integrity at any
price, when the liberty of America was the stake.

These letters and transactions were immediately laid before Congress

by the several gentlemen, who thought themselves particularly
insulted by such unequivocal attempts on their honor and fidelity.
This demeanor of one of the commissioners was resented in a
manner that might be expected from that respectable body. The
American Congress at this period was, with few exceptions,
composed of men jealous of their rights, proud of their patriotism and
independence, and tenacious of their honor and probity. They
resolved that as they felt, so they ought to demonstrate the most
pointed indignation against such daring attempts to corrupt their
integrity. They added that "it was incompatible with their honor to
hold any further intercourse with George Johnstone, Esquire, more
especially to negotiate" with him on affairs in which the cause of
liberty was interested." [For Mr. Johnstone's private letter to the
President of Congress, and Mr. Laurens' reply, which was

equally honorable to himself and to his country, and which breathed

that spirit of dignity, independence, and virtue, which uniformly
marked the character of this gentleman, the reader is referred to the
journals of Congress.]

This resolve announced in all the public papers drew out a very angry
declaration from Mr. Johnstone. He intimated that he should decline
acting in future as a commissioner, or in any other way negotiating
with Congress. He observed that "the business would be left in abler
hands; and that he should be happy to find no other impediment in
the way of accommodation, after he was removed; but that he was
inclined to believe the resolutions of Congress were dictated on
similar motives to the Convention of Saratoga." Mr. Johnstone
alluded to a resolve of Congress in reply to the offer of the
commissioners to ratify the Convention of Saratoga. To this offer they
had replied "that no ratification that maybe tendered in consequence
of powers that only reached the case by construction or which may
subject all transactions relative thereto either to the future
approbation or disapprobation of Parliament can be accepted by
Congress."

To the resentful language of Governor Johnstone, he added that

Congress acted a delusory part, contrary to the wishes of their
constituents; and after many very severe reflections on their
connection with France, he avowed a total disregard either of the
good or ill opinion of such a body; but acknowledged "that making a
just

allowance for men acting under the heats of civil convulsions, he had
a regard for some individuals that composed it."

Doubtless, at the moment of this passionate declaration, Mr.

Johnstone had forgotten the flattering epithets, even to adulation, that
he had recently bestowed on the same body he now affected to hold
in sovereign contempt. But Congress persevered in their usual
steady line of conduct, and took no farther notice of the letters,
declarations, or addresses of the commissioners.

Thus closed their public negotiations. Yet they did not despair of
dividing the colonies. Letters and addresses were still circulated to
the governors of particular states, and to private gentlemen, and
inflammatory declarations were spread throughout America. The
poison of these new modes of overture for peace, between
contending nations, was effectually antidoted by the spirited
publications of several gentlemen of ability, in their private capacity.
[W.H. Drayton and others.]

The last effort made by these disappointed negotiators before they left
America as the publication of a manifesto signed by three of them
and dispersed throughout the continent. This address appeared to
be dictated more by resentment and despair than expectation or
hope. It contained an endeavor to foment jealousies between the
several states; and insinuated that Congress were not authorized by
their constituents to reject the offers of Britain or to enter into
alliances with foreign nations. Proposals were made for separate
treaties either with the governors, the legislative bodies, or individual
gentlemen; and offers of pardon were held out to any in civil or
military departments, and to all descriptions of men who should, within
40 days, desert the service of their country and enlist under the
standard of Britain.

This was not the most offensive part of this extraordinary manifesto.
Vindictive threatenings were denounced against all who should
continue deaf to these gracious and generous calls of their
Sovereign. It finished by declaring that if America still preferred her
connection with the insidious and hereditary enemy of Britain, she
must expect the operations of war would be continued in such modes
as tended most to distress, depopulate, and ruin. [See the manifesto
at large in the British Remembrancer and in the Annual Register, as
well as in the Journals of Congress.]

Mankind are seldom driven into compliance by the haughty threats of

powerful adversaries, unless they feel their own weakness to such a
degree as to render them abject. But America, conscious of her own
internal strength, and sure of the assistance of foreign allies, rather
spurned at the virulent spirit of this declaration. It did not increase
their respect towards the negotiators for peace. Nor were the
Americans alone offended at the style and manner of this address. It
was considered as deficient both in policy and humanity even by
some officers in the British army. One of them, of high rank,
immediately repaired to England and declared with honest
indignation in the House of Commons, of which he was a member,
that "he could not bear the attempt to convert soldiers into butchers,
assassins, and incendiaries; or the abominable idea of sheathing his
sword in the bowels of age and innocence. Nor would he be
instrumental in tarnishing the luster of the British name by acts of
barbarity, in obedience to the man dates of the most infamous
administration that ever disgraced a free country." [See debates in
Parliament.]

But by the activity of officers of less delicacy and tenderness, the

theory of cruelty held out by the commissioners was soon realized by
the perpetration of every crime; and the extreme rigor of war, which in
modern times has been meliorated by the general consent of civilized
nations, was renewed in America, in all the barbarous shapes that the
ingenuity or the wickedness of man could invent.

Soon after the manifesto of the commissioners was published, a

declaration was issued by Congress, though not in terms equally
cruel and threatening. They, however, discovered their resentment by
the severity of their language; and a sort of license was encouraged
for retaliation on individuals, if the British proceeded to murder the
inhabitants and burn the houses of private persons. They thought
themselves justifiable in this from past sufferings, and the present
threatenings of officers commissioned to reconcile, instead of further
irritating the injured Americans.

Congress reproached them with meanness, in attempting to carry

their point by bribery, corruption, and deceit; an charged their nation
with making "a mock at humanity, by the wanton destruction of men;
a mock at religion by impious appeals to God, whilst in the violation of
his sacred commands; and a mockery of reason itself, by supposing
that the liberty and happiness of America could safely be entrusted to
those who had sold their own, unawed by a sense of virtue or
shame." They appealed to the Searcher of Hearts for the rectitude of
their intentions, and observed that not instigated by anger or revenge,
they should, through every possible change of fortune, adhere to their
determinations. In this state and temper of the Congress, the people,
and the commissioners, Sir Henry Clinton took the command of all
the royal troops in America. Previous to the opening of the summer
campaign, Sir William Howe had obtained leave to repair to England.
His intended absence was much regretted by the British army, and, as
a man of pleasure and address, by the gay part of the city of
Philadelphia. Every manifestation of respect was expressed on the
occasion, and the most superb display of modern luxury exhibited in
a n elegant entertainment, which drew attention from the novelty of
the style. The mischianza was considered a new species of
pleasure; but the appellation was only an additional decoration to an
effort designed to pay the highest compliment and respect both to the
military and the private character of General Howe.

Notwithstanding this and other testimonials of the affection of his

officers and his army, he was censured by the ministry on his arrival
in England, and a public clamor prevailed against his general
conduct, during his command in America. In consequence of the ill
temper excited against him, he published a long narrative in his own
defense, and urged a free examination of his conduct in the House of
Commons.
But the minister appeared averse to strictures that might lay open too
many of the secrets of the cabinet. However, several distinguished
gentlemen of the army were at last called to examination, and on the
whole gave a favorable testimony to the military character and
operations of General Howe, and extenuated the failure of particular
maneuvers by the difficulty and embarrassment of his situation, in a
country where it was impossible for him to know whether he was
surrounded by friends or foes, and where he often found himself
deceived by the misrepresentations of the loyalists. In order to
invalidate the evidence of Lord Cornwallis and other respectable
characters, the party against Sir William Howe procured the
examination and evidence of Joseph Galloway and some others of
the most inveterate refugees who had fled from America and were
disappointed that the subjugation of their country was thus long
delayed.

Much censure fell on the ministry for their resorting to the testimony of
American refugees, pensioners, and custom-house officers, whose
places, pensions, and existence depended on their adherence to
ministerial measures, to invalidate the evidence of military men of
high rank and great professional knowledge.

Sir William Howe was not again vested with command during the
American war. Some other officers, either disgusted or discouraged,
returned to England after the summer campaign. Several of them
were advanced and sent out again in the succeeding spring to pursue
the work of slaughter or to humble the spirit of Americans at the feet
of monarchy. A number of these ill-fated officers, whose merits were
conspicuous in their line, did not again return to the bosom of their
native country, the beloved island of Britain; where their surviving
friends were left to weep at the recollection of the ashes of the brave,
scattered over the heights and plains of the American world.

**************************
Note 4

Governor Penn was the last proprietary governor of the state of

Pennsylvania. After the Revolution, different modes were adopted.
The patent granted by the Crown to the celebrated Penn, the founder
of that colony, included a vast territory; but the enormous claims of
the family were extinguished by an act of the legislature of
Pennsylvania. This was not in consequence of any political
delinquency of the late governor, who had acquitted himself with
ability and address, and retained his patriotism and attention to the
interests of his country to the end of the contest. The heirs of the
family voluntarily relinquished their extensive claims in consideration
of a very handsome sum of money paid to the claimants by the
legislature, in lieu of all quit-rents that might hereafter be demanded.

____________________

Chapter Thirteen: Evacuation of Philadelphia. Battle of Monmouth.

General Lee censured. General Clinton reaches New York. The
Count de Estaing arrives there. Repairs to Rhode Island. Expedition
unsuccessful. French Fleet rendezvous at Boston to refit after
damages sustained by a storm. Lord Howe leave the American Seas.
Marauding exploits of General Grey. Destruction of Wyoming.
Expedition into the Indian Territories.

The new commission with which Sir Henry Clinton was now vested
was prompt, arduous, and replete with consequences of the highest
magnitude to his country and to his own reputation. The Trident man
of war had arrived in the Delaware early in the month of June, 1778.
In this ship came the British commissions for conciliation; and through
the hand of William Eden, General Clinton received peremptory
orders to evacuate the city of Philadelphia within six days after their
reception. Accordingly, the whole British army decamped and began
their march toward New York on June 18.
The sudden desertion of a city that had been so much the object of
their warmest wishes tended at once to disheartened the adherents
to the royal cause and to invigorate the operations of their
antagonists. It could not be expected that General Washington would
remain a quiet spectator of this movement of the British troops. He
immediately dispatched a reconnoitering party under General Maxwell
to harass their march. [Before General Washington moved, he called
a council of officers to consult on the expediency of attacking the
British on their march. They were almost unanimously opposed to
the measure, as the failure of success would be ruin to the American
army. But the American commander, with two or three of his best
officers, had no reluctance at hazarding the consequences of a
general action.] The Marquis de la Fayette also marched at the head
of a detachment to meet them and impeded their progress; and
general Lee, with two brigades, was ordered to follow and support
him.

The British commander prepared for this interruption, suddenly

attacked and routed the cavalry under the Marquis. By this the
infantry were deranged; and General Washington, finding an action of
moment was likely to ensure, posted himself, after several military
movements, as advantageously as possible, near the heights of
Monmouth.

The Americans spirited and courageous, the British resolute, brave,

and desperate, a sharp conflict succeeded. The military game of
death and retreat, of recovery and slaughter, was kept up for several
hours without decision. But a misunderstanding on a disobedience of
orders by General Lee occasioned such a derangement on the
American side as gave the opportunity for a safe retreat to the royal
army, in spite of the valor and intrepidity of their opponents. Many on
both sides fell by the intense heat of the weather. It was one of those
days not unusual in the southern clime when the stroke of the sun is
instantaneously fatal to human life, without the agitation and fatigue
inseparable from the hour of battle.
Some warm expressions in the heat of engagement from General
Washington drew several letters from Lee, that could not be passed
over in silence. For these, and for his deportment through the events
o the day of action, he as suspended from his command, and
afterwards tried by a court martial. The exigencies of affairs, as well
as his misconduct made it necessary that he should lie under censure
for disobedience, and disrespect to the commander in chief. [the
court martial adjudged that he should retire from the army and lie
under suspension for one year.] Yet many of his brother officers
advocated or at least extenuated his conduct.

Perhaps it might not have been either treachery, cowardice, envy or

any other unworthy motive that influenced the conduct of General
Lee. He had but recently recovered his liberty after he was captured
at Hackinsack. Previous to that time, the American army was too
justly considered by him an undisciplined rabble. They had indeed, in
his absence, made great improvements in the art of war, and the
necessary arrangements of military discipline. However, he had not
yet a proper confidence in the infant troops he commanded, when
opposed to the superiority of British battalions, actuated by necessity
in addition to constitutional bravery. He might retreat more from the
cautious prudence of an experienced officer than from any design to
betray or disobey the orders of the commander in chief; but it is
certain he did not on all occasions discover a due respect either for
the character of talents of General Washington.

General Lee was never again employed in American service; and

undoubtedly died a martyr to chagrin, disappointment, and personal
abuse, in consequence of the ingratitude of some of his former
friends, arising from the popularity of a more favored, fortunate, and
meritorious officer.

After his trial and suspension, General Lee retired to a little farm in
Baltimore, where he lived in the most coarse and rustic manner.
Totally secluded from all society, he conversed only with a few
favorite authors and his dogs, until the year 1782, when, weary of his
sequestered situation, he left his retreat and repaired to Philadelphia.
But out of command, he found himself without friends, without respect,
and so far from that independence congenial to his mind and to his
years, that he was almost without the means of subsistence. In a
short time, he sickened and died in obscurity, though in a city where
he had been used to receive the highest marks of applause and
respect.

After the Battle of Monmouth, both parties boasted their advantages,

as is usual after an indecisive action. It is certain, Washington and
his brave troops gained only honor and applause, [Even the British
themselves acknowledged that the Americans behaved with great
sprit and intrepidity. In this action, a corps commanded by Colonel
Dearborn acquitted themselves with such undaunted bravery that they
attracted particular notice. A southern officer of rank rode up to Mr.
Dearborn and inquired "who they were and to what portion of America
that regiment belongs?" The colonel replied in this laconic and
soldierly manner, "Full-blooded Yankees, by God, sir, from the state
of New Hampshire."], whilst Sir Henry Clinton must have thought
himself fortunate indeed; on the one hand he escaped a pursuing
army, and on the other, a fleet commanded by the Count de Estaing,
which had just arrived in the Chesapeake.

The design of the French admiral was to shut up the British army in
Philadelphia; but from the inclemency of the weather, and contrary
winds, a long passage prevented his arriving seasonably to effect so
desirable an object. When Sir Henry Clinton left Philadelphia, he
could scarcely expect or entertain a hope that he could conduct his
army in safety through such an extent of country to their destination at
New York. but after surmounting many embarrassments, he arrived
there with his troops, nearly at the same time when the French
squadron appeared at the entrance to the Delaware.
It was a happy circumstance for Clinton that the Count de Estaing did
not at first direct his course to New York. However, within a few days
after the arrival of the British troops, he appeared unexpectedly off
Sandy Hook; and to the inexpressible mortification of British pride,
they found themselves blocked up in their own harbor, by the
hereditary enemy of their nation. Old antipathies revived; irritation and
resentment were wrought up to the highest pitch by new
provocations; and nothing could exceed the indignation raised by the
idea that the King of France was sending out his fleets and armies to
aid and support the rebellious colonies.

From the situation of the two fleets before New York, an engagement
was thought by all to be inevitable. A spirit was diffused through all
ranks of the royal army and navy, expressive of the vigor, valor, and
activity of British soldiers and seamen. Such was the popularity of
Lord Howe, the importance of the cause, and their resentment
towards France that he soldiers, scarce recovered from their wounds
and fatigue, in the late action and retreat, were solicitous and
impatient to face their Gallic enemy; and the British seamen in private
service were equally emulous, and solicited eagerly, and even
contested the honor of employment in the navy.

Prepared for action and confident of success, they ostentatiously

boasted that the name of Howe and the terror of the British flag must
intimidate Frenchmen in the moment of danger; as the recollection of
former defeats would officiously obtrude, in spite of their most brilliant
designs. This opinion was in some measure sanctioned by the
inactivity of the Count of Estaing, who, after lying 11 days without the
smallest advance to action, left his station at Sandy Hook, an
proceeded northward.

It is difficult to say whether the joy or the surprise of his enemies

preponderate on this occasion. They justly considered it a very
fortunate circumstance, as within two or three days, five ships of the
line belonging to Admiral Byron's squadron, arrived singly in so
shattered a condition that probably they, with the remainder of the
fleet, must without a blow have fallen into the hands of the French,
had they continued before New York.

This unexpected maneuver o the Count was in consequence of a

preconcerted plan that all naval operations should be suspended at
the southward and that with all possible dispatch, the French fleet
should repair to Rhode Island. This was in order to favor an
expedition for the recovery of that beautiful spot, which had been
seized in October 1776 and held by British troops, now commanded
by Sir Robert Pigot. There, under cover of a number of frigates, they
had rested in safety nearly two years. Detachments from the army at
Newport and its environs had frequently made incursions to the main,
burnt a part of the town of Bristol, and greatly annoyed both
Providence and all the adjacent country.

The Count of Estaing arrived before Newport on August 9; and within

a few days, a large body of militia from the neighboring states,
commanded by General Hancock, and a detachment of continental
troops under the command of General Sullivan, landed on the island.

The American troops, healthy, active, and vigorous flushed in the hope
of victory, not only from their own spirit and bravery, but from
expectations derived from the presence of their new allies, with a
powerful naval force to aid their operation, were sanguine, confident,
and impatient for action. But to their unspeakable disappointment,
the very day on which they landed, the French fleet again put to sea,
their commander having received intelligence that Lord Howe had left
Sandy Hook, in full force to engage him and to prevent the
dislodgment of the royal troops who were strong and well fortified in
every part of the island.

Count de Estaing judged it prudent to meet and fight the British

squadron at sea, rather than suffer Lord Howe to make an effort to
gain the harbor. His force was superior, this officers equally brave.
There was a mutual ardor engagement in the seamen, and a mutual
ambition for glory, in both the British and French commanders. But
the unforeseen operations of nature, that so often impede the design
of man, again defeated the proud expectations of triumph in both
parties. A severe storm that raged 48 hours, separated the two fleets;
and such was the violence of a gale scarcely paralleled in those seas,
that Lord Howe in a very shattered and broken condition, was obliged
to repair to New York to refit; and the French commanders thought
themselves happy to reach Boston in a very wretched and disabled
state. The admiral's own ship as dismasted.: the Caesar of 74 guns,
commanded by Monsieur de Booves, met the Isis, a British ship of
war of only 50 guns. A sharp conflict ensured; but the Caesar having
last all he masts in the storm, darkness approaching, most of his men
being slain, and his own right arm shot off, Monsieur to Booves found
it necessary to sheer off for Boston, where the whole fleet arrived in a
few days.

The Count was opposed in the measure of leaving the harbor of

Newport by all the American and many of the French officers, but
none more strenuously than brave Marquis de la Fayette, who
followed him to Boston with the utmost celerity, to endeavor to
expedite his return. [Zealous to promote the same object, the
commissioners of the navy-board at Boston, with great dispatch
repaired, watered, victualled, and equipped the ships under the
command of the Count de Estaing. It not being practicable to return to
Rhode Island, he in a few weeks after sailed in complete order for the
West Indies.] This misfortune damped the ardor of the militia, some of
whom had, more from ostentation than bravery, voluntarily engaged in
this expedition. Near 3000 men relinquished their posts and left the
island in a day. Many of them were influenced to this precipitate
desertion by the conduct of Major General Hancock, who, in spite of
the remonstrances of friends and forgetful of the hazard of popularity
left all in the moment of danger and repaired to Boston.

General Sullivan, not disheartened by these unexpected events, nor

discouraged by the untoward accidents that hitherto attended his
operations, kept his station 14 days after the secession of so large a
part of his forces. Nor did he suffer his troops to be idle. Several
skirmishes took place that kept up apprehension on the one side and
a military ardor on the other; but none of more importance than an
action on the morning of the 29th, when a cannonade began early on
both sides and continued some hours with doubtful success. A
detachment of British troops under Colonel Campbell as routed and
fled in confusion, leaving many dead on the field, among whom a
favorite nephew of the commander was killed by his side. After this,
Sullivan and his officers, judging it not prudent to attack a superior
force entrenched within their lines, withdrew to their own camp, while
the British employed the ensuing night in strengthening and fortifying
theirs.

Within three days after this rencounter, an express arrived from

General Washington with information that Lord Howe had again
sailed from New York and that Sir Henry Clinton had himself
embarked with 4000 men for the relief of Rhode Island. On the same
day, the Marquis de la Fayette returned from Boston and reported it
impossible for the Count de Estaing to arrive there again, timely for an
operations of consequence; and as nothing effectual could be done
without the aid of naval force, General Sullivan thought proper to
withdraw his troops from the island.

His retreat was conducted with such secrecy, silence, and dexterity as
discovered the judgment and ability of the experienced commander.
He had in his council some officers of distinguished name who fully
justified his conduct through the whole of this unsuccessful
expedition. Greene, la Fayette, and Laurens [The noble disinterested
sentiments of this gentleman, who was then aid decamp to General
Washington, were exhibited in his reply to Congress, who for his
distinguished bravery in this and other actions had advanced him to
the rank of lieutenant colonel. Mr. Laurens' acceptance would have
superseded some officers in the family of the commander, earlier in
commission. Apprehensive that it might create some uneasiness
among them, he declined the honor. He observed "that having been a
 spectator of the convulsions occasioned in the army by disputes of
rank, he held the tranquility of it too dear to be instrumental in
disturbing it."] , Fleury, Wade, Glover, Knox, Livingston, and Talbot,
with many other excellent officers, had the mortification to quit the
field, without the laurels so fair a prospect of military glory had waved
in view.

This disappointment occasioned some temporary murmurings against

the conduct of de Estaing, and even the connection with France. A
squabble, soon after the fleet arrived in Boston, between some
French and American sailors heightened the uneasiness. But the
most respectable people, disposed to view with a favorable eye and
to place the utmost confidence in their untried allies, all censure was
hushed; and a discreet silence in the more prudent prevented or
counteracted all invidious observations from the less candid.

Lord Howe arrived in the harbor of Newport with 1000 sail of ships of
war and transports the morning after Sullivan's retreat. Admiral Byron
was hourly expected to join him. Thus, so superior in strength, there
was every reason to expect Boston would be the next object of
attack. In consequence of this appearance, the Count de Estaing,
who found it would require time to victual, water, and equip his
shattered fleet for a second cruise, judged it necessary to fortify
several advantageous islands in the harbor, and thus be in readiness
for the reception of the British fleets, if they should be again disposed
to visit Boston.

Lord Howe, before he returned to New York, went round and looked
into the harbor of Boston; but finding most of the ships belonging to
the French fleet repaired, and Castle Williiam and the islands in a
defensible state, he did not think proper to make any hostile attempt
on the town. Not perfectly pleased with the American war, and
disgusted at some things relative to his own command, his Lordship
resigned his commission soon after this and repaired to England. He
left the American seas in September 1778.
When His Lordship arrived in England, he complained publicly that he
had been deceived into the command and deceived while in it. Tired
and disgusted with the service, he had been compelled to resign; and
that he had suffered too much ever to risk a return to any situation
that might terminate in equal mortification. He observed that he must
be excused from any employment while the present ministry
continued in office, being convinced by decisive experience that the
not only risked his own honor and professional character in the
attempt, but that under such councils, he was as sensible as those
who had been earlier in opposition that no

essential service could be rendered to his country.

But though we see him no more on the American theater, yet,

notwithstanding his dissatisfaction with the conduct of administration,
Lord Howe again, before the conclusion of peace, acted a
conspicuous part under the renowned flag of Great Britain.

The celebrated Bougainville, who had before explored the other side
of the globe, was, with many other officers of high rank and
distinction, for the first time in the American seas. They were
everywhere welcomed as the generous friends of the United States,
the patrons of liberty, and the supporters of the rights of men. But as
there had not yet been time to prove the sincerity of either party, the
old officers who remembered the late war between England and
France, when America hugged herself in the protection of Britain and
adopted all her opinions, looked as if they wished rather than
believed all ancient prejudices obliterated. [Some jealousies had
arisen while in Rhode Island on some points of etiquette between the
Count de Estaing and the commander of the American forces. These
had been amicably adjusted; yet the pride of older military characters
had been too much hurt for the wound to be instantly healed.] They
seemed silently to half doubt the reality of that friendship which
appeared in the politeness of their reception, from a people of a
different religion, language, habits, and manners; and at first seemed
reluctant to hold back that flow of affection which the Americans were
ready to return in full measure.

As to the younger class, unconscious of injury, ambitious for glory, and

eager for the humiliation of Britain, hope danced in their eye. Every
feature displayed the wish of mutual confidence; and with honest joy,
they extended their arms to embrace their new allies. Yet, the
squadrons of the House of Bourbon riding in the ports and fortifying
the American harbors against their natural friends, the parent of the
once loyal and affectionate colonies, was an event which, though
precipitated by the folly of Britain, had out run the expectations of
America; nor could such a circumstance fail to excite the most
serious recollections and contemplations, both of the philosopher and
the politician.

The timely and judicious movement of General Sullivan disappointed

the expectations of Sir Henry Clinton, who flattered himself he should
arrive soon enough to cut off the retreat of the American army. When
he found they had withdrawn, he immediately left the neighborhood of
Rhode Island and returned to New York, after he had dispatched
Major General Grey at the head of a large detachment on a
marauding expedition against some defenseless towns in
Massachusetts.

The first attack was on Bedford, a small town on the River Acushnet.
He landed in the evening. The inhabitants alarmed at this
unexpected attack, most of them fled, and left their property a prey to
their enemies. When they returned in the morning, they found the
Britons retired; but to their inexpressible mortification, almost
everything of value was destroyed or carried off. Houses,
warehouses, magazines, and stores, with near a hundred sail of
shipping were burnt on the Bedford and Fairhaven sides of the river.

After this feat, Grey proceeded to Martha's Vineyard, laid the

inhabitants under contribution, and demanded a surrender of their
arms. From thence he visited Nantucket and the neighboring isles;
and with the plunder of 15,000 or 20,000 cattle and sheep, for the use
of the army at New York, he returned with this party, exulting in
depredations that would have been disgraceful to an officer of much
inferior character and abilities. [A number of refugees from the state
of Massachusetts aided Grey in depredations on their countrymen
and former friends. From a regard to the feelings of some of their
connections, still living in America, we forbear to name them.]

Sir Henry Clinton, pleased with the success of this expedition, sent
Grey immediately on to aid a similar mode of war on the Jersey
coast. Lord Cornwallis had with a large body of troops taken post
between the North River and the Hackinsack. General Knyphausen
with another division was posted in a parallel position on the other
side of the North River. Thus were they conveniently situated to guard
their foraging parties, and distress the country by sudden
depredations and continual havoc, during the remainder of the
autumn.

General Grey, with his usual activity, had gained intelligence of the
insecure situation in which a regiment commanded by Colonel Baylor
had reposed themselves for the night of September 24. A party sent
on with orders to give no quarter cut off the guards an surprised the
unhappy victims, asleep in an outhouse. They awoke, submitted,
implored quarter, and were massacred in an hour. Only 10 or 12
escaped with life, after they were barbarously wounded, stripped, and
left for dead. This remnant so far recovered as, by favor of the
darkness, to reach the post of their friends and detail the horrid
transaction. They agreed on oath that they and their companions had
all surrendered as soon as they found themselves in the enemy's
hands and asked only for life. But the savage cry was "kill them, kill
them; we have orders to give no quarter", and the barbarous echo
was kept up until every man as, or appeared to be murdered. [See a
particular detail of this transaction in the British Remembrancer, with
the affidavits of the few soldiers that escaped the massacre.]
A repetition of the same cruel policy soon after took place on the
surprise of a party of Pulaski's light infantry. Some deserters had
betrayed them into the hands of the British. Several hundred of these
unhappy men were butchered without mercy, after the surrender of
their arms. The Baron de Bose, a Polish nobleman, as among the
slain. An apology was afterwards attempted, by pleading that they
had received information that Count Pulaski, in orders to his legion,
had enjoined that no quarter should be given to any that might fall
into their hands. This was denied both by the Count and his officers.
But had it been true that a foreign nobleman, hardened amid the
barbarities of Polish confederacies, could so far deviate from the laws
of humanity as to give such an order, the example should never have
been followed by the polite and gallant Englishmen. But in this war,
they seemed to have lost those generous feelings of compassion to
the vanquished foe that must ever be teemed honorary to the human
character.

A counterpart to the conduct of the more refined, though little more

humanized commanders of the predatory pirates in the middle and
northern colonies was exhibited in the southern borders by their
savage allies of the wilderness.

This was dreadfully realized by the inhabitants of Wyoming, a young

settlement on the eastern branch of the Susquehanna. the
population of this once happy spot had been remarkably rapid, and
when the fury of civil discord first appeared among them, it contained
eight townships of five miles square each. They were situated in a
mild climate, in a country fertile and beautifully displaying a
picturesque appearance of that kind of primitive simplicity only
enjoyed before the mind of man is contaminated by ambition or gold.
But party rage had spread its baneful influence to the remotest
corners of America, and political animosities had at this period
poisoned the peace, even of the most distant villages, where
simplicity, friendship, and industry had reigned, until the fell fiend
which prompts to civil war made its frightful appearance, attended by
all the horrors imagination can paint.

The inhabitants of this favored spot, perhaps more zealous than

discreet, had so far participated the feelings of all America, as
voluntarily to raise and send forward 1000 men, to join the continental
army. This step disclosed the embers of opposition that had hitherto
lain concealed in the bosoms of a number long disaffected to the
American, and warmly attached to the royal cause. A rancorous spirit
immediately burst from the latent spark, which divided families, and
separated the tenderest connections. Animosities soon arose to such
a height that some of the most active members of this flourishing and
happy society abandoned their plantations, forsook their friends,
joined and instigated the neighboring savages to molest the
settlements, and assisted in the perpetration of the most unheard of
cruelties.

Several outrages had been committed by small parties, and many

threatening appearances had so far alarmed the inhabitants that most
of them had repaired to some fortresses early erected for their
defense against the native savages. Yet there was no apprehension
of a general massacre and extermination until the beginning of July,
1778, when an army of near 2000 men made its appearance on the
Susquehanna and landed on their borders. This body was composed
of the motley materials of Indians, Tories, half-blooded Englishmen,
and British renegades, headed by one Butler, who had nothing
human about him, except a rough, external figure of a man.

All the inhabitants of those weak, defenseless settlements capable of

bearing arms, embodied and put themselves under the direction of a
person of the same name, a near relation of the commander of the
savages. This man, either through fear, weakness, or misplaced
confidence, listened to the offers of treaty from his more artful
kinsman, and suffered himself with 400 men to be drawn from Fort
Kingston by a delusive flat, that alternately advanced and retired, as if
apprehensive of danger. Caught by the snare, he was completely
surrounded before he had any suspicion of deception, and his whole
party cut off, notwithstanding they fought with a spirit becoming their
desperate situation.

The victor immediately pushed on, invested the garrison thus

indiscreetly left, and demanded a surrender. The demand was
accompanied by the horrid display of a great number of scalps, just
torn from the heads, and yet warm with blood, of their nearest friends
and relations. In this situation of wretchedness, embittered by
impotent resentment, Colonel Donnison, on whom the command had
devolved, finding resistance impracticable, went out himself with a
flag to ask the terms of surrender. To this humiliating question, the
infamous Butler replied with all the sang- froid of the savage, and the
laconism of an ancient Greek, "the hatchet."

The unfortunate Donnison returned in despair; yet he bravely

defended the fort until most of his men had fallen by his side, when
the barbarians without shut up this and a neighboring garrison where
a number of women and children had repaired for safety, and setting
fire to both, they enjoyed the infernal pleasure of seeing them perish
promiscuously, in the flames lighted by their bloody hands. [The
transactions at Wyoming are recorded above, agreeably tot he most
authentic accounts at the time.]

After this catastrophe, the most shocking devastation was spread

through the townships. While some were employed in burning the
houses, setting fire to the cornfields and rooting out every trait of
improvement, others were cruelly and wantonly imbruing their hands
in the blood of their parents, their brothers, and every near
connection who had unfortunately held different political opinions. But
a particular detail of the transactions of savages, stimulated by the
agents of more refined and polished nations, with passions whetted
by revenge, without principle to check its operations, is too painful to
the writer and too disgraceful to human nature to dwell on. Nor is it
less painful to the impartial historian to relate the barbarous, though
by them deemed necessary, vengeance soon after taken by the
Americans.

The conflagration spread over the beautiful country of the Illinois, by a

Colonel Clark of Virginia, equally awakes compassion and was a
counterbalance for the sufferings of the miserable Wyomings. It is
true the Illinois and other distant warlike tribes were at the instigation
of Governor Hamilton [Governor Hamilton was afterwards captured
by Clark.] the British commander at Detroit, generally assisting in the
measures perpetrated under Butler and Brandt nearer the frontiers;
and perhaps the law of retaliation may, in some measure, justify the
depredations of Clark.

This intrepid ranger left Virginia in the course of this summer, with a
few adventurers as hardy as himself, and traversed a country 1100 or
12000 miles in extent; and surmounting all the hardships that
imagination can paint, through a wilderness inhabited only by strolling
hunters from among the savages, and the wild beats that prowled
before them, through hunger, fatigue, and sufferings innumerable,
they reached the upper Mississippi. The Indian inhabitants, who had
there long enjoyed a happy climate and the fruits of a fertile soil,
under a high degree of cultivation, fearless of danger from their
distance from civilized neighbors, were surprised by Clark and his
party. Their crops were destroyed. Their settlements broken up. Their
villages burnt, the principal of which was Kafkafkias. This town
contained near 3000 houses; and had it not bee surprised at midnight
by these desperate invaders, bold, outrageous, and near starving in
the wilderness, the natives might successfully have defended their
lives and their plantations. But not a man escaped seasonably to
alarm the neighboring tribes.

A British officer, one Rocheblave, who acted as governor and

paymaster for American scalps, was taken and sent to Virginia, with
many written proofs of the cruel policy of inciting the fury of savages
against the American settlements. From Quebec, Detroit,
Michilimankinac, etc. these orders everywhere appeared under the
signature of the chief magistrates, acting in the name of the British
King. Some of their principal warriors were made prisoners. The
remainder who escaped the sword had only to fly farther through a
trackless wilderness, if possible to procure some new lodgment,
beyond the reach of civilized pursuers.

Nor did the Cherokees, the Muskinums, the Mohawks, and many
other average tribes

feel less severely than the Illinois the resentment of the Americans for
their attachment to the British nation and their cruelties practiced on
the borders of the Atlantic states.

An expedition entrusted to the conduct of General Sullivan against the

Six Nations, who had generally been better disposed towards
Americans than most of the savage tribes, was replete with
circumstances that must wound the feelings of the compassionate
heart; while the lovers of cultivation and improvement among all
mankind will be touched by a retaliation bordering, to say the least,
on savage fury. The sudden and unexpected destruction of a part of
the human species, enjoying domestic quiet in the simplicity of
nature, awakes the feelings of the first. The second must be disturbed
in his philosophical pursuits of cultivation and improvement when he
contemplates fire and sword destroying all in their way and houses too
well built to be the workmanship of men in a state of rude nature, the
prey of conflagration, enkindled by the hands of the cultivators of the
arts and sciences. [By the testimony of British writers, this description
is not exaggerated. See their registers and histories.]

The rooting up of gardens, orchards, cornfields, and fruit trees, which

by their variety and growth discovered that the industrious hand of
cultivation had been long employed to bring them to perfection,
cannot be justified, more especially where there is a mind capable of
looking forward to their utility and bake to the time and labor it has
cost to bring them to maturity. But General Sullivan, according to his
own account in his letters to the commander in chief, to Congress, to
his friends and others, spared no vestige of improvement and
appeared little less proud of this war on nature than he was of his
conquest of the savages. [See General Sullivan's account of this
expedition on the public records, dated September 30, 1779.]

The difficulties, dangers, and fatigues of the march required courage,

firmness, and perseverance. Hunger and famine assailed them
before they reached the fertile borders of the pleasant and well-
settled Indian towns. Yes General Sullivan and his party finished the
expedition in as short a time as could be expected, and to all public
appearance, met the approbation of Congress and of the commander
in chief.

Yet there were some things in the demeanor of General Sullivan that
disgusted some of his officers and raised a censure on his conduct
that made him unhappy and led him to resign his military command.
His health was indeed broken, which he imputed to the fatigues
encountered on this hazardous march. Yet he lived many years after
this period, and was advanced to the highest stations in the civil

administration of the state of New Hampshire, and died with the

reputation of a brave and active officer, both in military and civil life.

General Sullivan had acquitted himself during his military command

with valor and reputation in many instances. During the ravages of
the British on the Jersey shore, in the latter part of the summer of
1777, he had gained much honor by an expedition to Staten Island,
concerted by himself. This he undertook without any orders from the
commander in chief ;and for this a court of inquiry was appointed to
examine into his conduct. His reasons for such a step, without
permission or command, were thought justifiable. He brought off a
great number of prisoners, officer, soldiers, and Tories, who had
frequently made incursions on the borders of the Jerseys, and
harassed, plundered, and murdered the inhabitants in their sudden
depredations. it appeared that General Sullivan had conducted this
business with great prudence and success. He was, by the court of
inquiry, acquitted with honor and applause, for planning and
executing to great advantage a design from which so much benefit
had resulted.

It may be thought by some an apology sufficient for the invasion of

Clark and Sullivan, of Pickens, Van Schaick, and others, that the
hostile dispositions of the aboriginals had always led them to imbrue
their hands in the blood of the borderers. The warriors of the distant
tribes, either instigated by their own ferocity and resentment, or the
influence of Europeans inimical to the United States, were ever ready
to molest the young settlements. Jealous of their encroachments, the
natives viewed them with such a hostile eye that no treaties were
binding. When a favorable opportunity presented, they always
attacked the whites, perhaps from the same impulse that in human
nature prompts all mankind, whether civilized or savage, to resist the
invaders of his territory.

Indeed their condition and their sufferings, from the first emigration of
the Europeans, their corruptions in consequence thereof, their wards,
and their extirpation from a vast tract of the American continent must
excite a solemn pause in the breast of the philosopher, while he
surveys the wretchedness of savage life, and sighs over it misery.
Yet he is not relieved when he contemplates the havoc among
civilized nations, the changes in society, the protraction of principle,
and the revolutions permitted by Providence in this speck of creation.

The rivers of blood through which mankind generally wade to empire

and greatness must draw out the tear of compassion; and every
sympathetic bosom will commiserate the sufferings of the whole
human race, either friends or foes, whether dying by the sword,
sickness or remorse, under the splendid canopy reared by their own
guilty hands. These with equal pity look into the wilderness; they see
the naked hunter groaning out his fierce soul on his native turf, slain
by the tomahawk of his own savage tribe, or wounded by some
neighboring hordes that prowl through an existence little elevated
above the brute. Both stages of society excite compassion, and both
intimate to the rational mind that this is but the road to a more
improved and exalted state of existence.

But the unhappy race of men hutted throughout the vast wilderness of
America, were the original proprietors of the soil; and if they have not
civilization, they have valor; if they have not patriotism, they have a
predilection to country, and are tenacious of their hunting grounds.
However the generous or human mind may revolt at the idea, there
appears a probability that they will be hunted from the vast American
continent, if not from off the face of the globe, by Europeans of
various descriptions, aided by the interested Americans, who all
consider valor in an Indian only as a higher degree of ferocity.

Their strenuous efforts to retain the boundaries assigned them by

nature and Providence, are viewed with contempt by those
descriptions of persons, or rather as a sanction to their own rapacity,
and a warrant from heaven to exterminate the hapless race. But "the
rivers, the mountains, the deserts, the savages clad in armor, with
other destroyers of men", as well as the voice of heaven and their
natural boundaries, forbid these encroachments on the naked
forester, content with the produce of nature in his own grounds, and
the game that plays in his own wild woods, which his ancestors have
possessed from time immemorial.

The ideas of some Europeans as well as Americans, that the rude

tribes of savages cannot be civilized by the kind and humane
endeavors of their neighbors, is absurd and unfounded. What were
once ancestors of the most refined and polite modern nations but
rude, ignorant savages, inured to all the barbarous customs and
habits of present existing tribes/ Nature has been equal in its
operations with regard to the whole human species. There is no
difference in the moral or intellectual capacity of nations, but what
arises from adventitious circumstances that give some a more early
and rapid improvement in civilization than others. This gradual rise
from the rude stages of nature to the highest pitch of refinement may
be traced by the historian, the philosopher, and the naturalist,
sufficiently to obviate all objections against the strongest efforts to
instruct and civilize the swarms of men in the American wilds, whose
only natural apparent distinction is a copper-colored skin. When the
present war ceases to rage, it is hoped that humanity will teach
Americans of a fairer complexion to use the most strenuous efforts to
instruct them in arts, manufactures morals, and religion, instead of
aiming at their extermination.

It is true at this period, when war was raging through all the united
States, few of the tries of the wilderness appeared to be contented
with their own native inheritance. They were everywhere stimulated
by the British government to hostility, and most of the inhabitants of
the wilderness seemed to be in array against their former colonies.
This crated a necessity in Congress to act offensively against the rude
and barbarous nations. Defensive war against any nation, whether
civilized or savage is undoubtedly justifiable both in a moral and
political view. But attempts to penetrate distant countries and spread
slaughter and bloodshed among innocent and unoffending tribes, too
distant to awaken fears, and too simple and unsuspicious to expect
approaching destruction from those they had never injured, has no
warrant from Heaven.

Even in the present war, instances may be adduced of the effects of

civilization, which often soften the most savage manners; one of
which may be here recorded. A part of the Muskingum tribe had
professed themselves Christian of the Moravian sect. They
considered war of any kind as inconsistent both with the laws of
religion and humanity. They refused to take any part with the
numerous hostile tribes of savages in the war against the Americans.
They observed with more rationality and consideration than is
generally discovered in more civilized nations "that the Great Spirit
did not make men to destroy, but to assist and comfort each other."

They persisted in this placid demeanor, until some of their savage

neighbors were so enraged that they forcibly removed them from their
former settlement; and after committing great cruelties and destroying
a number of them, placed the remainder near the Sandusky. Their
removal was in consequence of orders from the British commander at
Detroit. They remained for some time in the enjoyment of their own
simple habits; but some suspicions were afterwards infused among
the settlers on the Monongahela that their dispositions were not
friendly to the Americans. It is painful o relate that on this slight
pretense, a number of Americans embodied themselves and marched
to the Moravian town, where the principle men had repaired by
permission to reap the harvest they had left standing in the fields.
The Americans followed them and barbarously murdered the whole of
this innocent and inoffensive band.

The whites at first decoyed them by a friendly appearance, which

induced them to collect themselves together. When thus collected,
they, without resistance, suffered themselves to be bound and
inhumanly butchered. They died professing their full expectation that
their troubles would soon be at an end. Thus they fell as martyrs to
religion, by the hands of a people who had much longer professed
themselves adherents to the principles of Christianity.

This instance of the treachery and cruelty of the whites is one among
many other proofs of the truth of an observation made by a
gentleman [A young American officer of great sensibility and
penetration, who fell at the Battle of the Miamis, 1791.] afterwards,
"that the white savages were generally more savage than the copper-
colored; and that nine times out of ten, the settlers on the borders
were the aggressors; that he had seen many of the natives who were
prisoners at Fort Washington; that they appeared to be possess of
much sensibility and gratitude; that he had discovered some singular
instances o this among them, very honorable to the human character,
before the advantages or the examples of civilized nations had
reached their borders.'

In short, no arguments are necessary to adduce the truth or impress

on the minds either of the philosopher or the politician that it will be
the indispensable duty of the American government, when quietly
established by the restoration of peace, to endeavor to soften and
civilize, instead of exterminating the rude nations of the interior. This
will undoubtedly be attempted in some future period, when
uncultivated reason may be assisted; when arts, agriculture, science,
and true religion, may enlighten the dark corners which have been
obscured by ignorance and ferocity, for countless ages. The
embrowned, dusky wilderness has exhibited multitudes of men, little
distinguished from the fierce animals they hunted, except in their
external form. Yet, in a few instance, the dignity of human nature has
been discovered by traits of reason and humanity, which wanted only
the advantage of education to display genius and ability equal to any
among the nations, that have hunted millions of those unhappy
people out of existence, since the discovery of America by
Europeans. But it is a pleasing anticipation that the American
Revolution may be a means in the hands of Providence of diffusion
universal knowledge over a quarter of the globe, that for ages had
been enveloped in darkness, ignorance, and barbarism.

_______________

Chapter Fourteen: Foreign negotiations. Dissensions among the

American commissioners. Deane recalled. Mr. Adams appointed. Mr.
Lee and Mr. Adams recalled. Spain declares war against England. Mr.
Jay sent to the Court of Madrid. Sir George Collier's expedition to
Virginia. His sudden recall. Ravages on the North River.
Depredations in the state of Connecticut, in aid of Governor Tryon
and his partisans. General Washington seizes Stoney Point.
Recovered by the British. Penobscot expedition. Destruction of the
American navy.
 It has already been observed that in an early stage of the American
contest, some gentlemen were deputed to negotiate ad to endeavor
to secure the assistance of several European nations. This had had
such an effect that at the period we are now upon, the United States
were in strict alliance with France, and were considered in a partial
and respectful light by some of the first powers in Europe. Yet
difficulties both at home and abroad which had scarcely been viewed
in theory, were no realized and felt with poignancy by the true friends
of their country.

The objects that employed the abilities of Congress at this period were
of such magnitude as required the experience of ancient statesmen,
the coolness of long practiced politicians, and the energies of virtue.

The articles of confederation offered to the consideration of each

legislative in the several states, in 1776, had been rejected by some
and suspended by others. It is true, they were now recently ratified
by all of them, but were scarcely yet established on a permanent
basis. [See Note 5 at the end of this chapter.]

They had to arrange, harmonize, and support the new permanent

army, collected from every part of the union, and now interwoven with
foreign volunteers from different European nations; and in the rear of
every other difficulty at home, they had to guard with all possible
discretion, against the innumerable moral and political evils ever the
inevitable consequence of a depreciating currency.

Abroad they had a task of equal difficulty, to heal the animosities that
existed and to conciliate the differences that had arisen among the
American ministers at the court of France, to prevent the fatal
consequences of their virulence toward each other. This was
expressed in strong language in their letters to Congress, nor was it a
secret in the courts of England or France, in some instances, perhaps
it was fomented by both.
In the infancy of Congress, in the magnitude of the new scenes that
were opening before them, and in the critical emergencies that
sprung up on untrodden ground, they, through hurry or inexperience,
had not in all instances selected men of the most impeccable
characters to negotiate with foreign powers. Perhaps in some of their
appointments, they did not always look so much at the integrity of the
heart, as at the capacity of the man for the arts of intrigue, the ray
address, and the supple accomplishments necessary for the courtier,
both to insure his own reception with princes, and to complete the
wishes of his employers in his negotiations with practiced statesmen.

Silas Deane, Esquire, a delegate to Congress from the state of

Connecticut, was the first person who had been vested with a foreign
commission. He embarked as a commercial agent in behalf of the
United States in 1776, and as afterwards named in the honorable
commission for a treaty of alliance with the Court of France, in
conjunction with Doctor Franklin and Arthur Lee, Esquire.

Mr. Deane had nothing to recommend him to such a distinguished and

important appointment, except a degree of mercantile experience,
combined with a certain secrecy or cunning that wore the appearance
of knowing things much beyond his ability and the art of imposing a
temporary believe of a penetration far beyond his capacity. His
weakness and ostentation, his duplicity, extravagance and total want
of principle were soon discovered by his constituents; but they placed
the most unlimited confidence in the great abilities, profound
knowledge, and unshaken patriotism, of the venerable and
philosophic Franklin. His warm attachment to his native country had
been evinced in numberless instances, during his long residence in
England as agent to the British Court, both for the Massachusetts and
the sate of Pennsylvania.

Before he left England in 1775, he had taken unwearied pains to

reconcile on the principles of equity and sound policy, the breach
between Great Britain and America. In the beginning of hostilities, he
repaired to Philadelphia, as chosen a member of Congress, and by
his decided republican principles, soon became a favorite in the
councils of American, a stable prop of her independence, and the
most able and influential negotiator they could send abroad.

The character and principles of Mr. Arthur Lee gave equal reason to
expect his most energetic endeavors to support the interest and weal
of America. He had resided in England for several years as agent for
the state of Virginia. Invariably attached to his native country, and
indefatigable in his efforts to ward off the impending evils that
threatened it, he had communicated much useful intelligence and
advantageous advice to the patriotic leaders in various parts of
America; and by his spirited writings and diligent exertions, he
procured them many fiends in England. He was a man of a clear
understanding, great probity, plain manners, an strong passions.
Though he loved America sincerely, he had at this period great
respect and affection for the parent sate; and his predilection in favor
of Britain appeared strongly, when balanced with the idea of an
American connection with the House of Bourbon.

The celebrity of Doctor Franklin has been so just and so extensive

that it is painful even for the impartial historian who contemplates the
superiority of his genius to record the foibles of the man; but
intoxicated by the warm caresses and unbounded applause of all
ranks, among a people where the art of pleasing is systematized, he
appeared notwithstanding his age and experience, in a short time
after his residence in France, little less a Gallican than an American.
This might be from polity. It was said, however, that he attached
himself to the interest of the Count of Vergennes, who, though he
countenanced the American Revolution, and cooperated in measures
that completed it, yet it was afterwards discovered that he secretly
wished to embarrass her councils and dreaded the rising glory of the
United States. Whatever suggestion there might have been, it was
never supposed that Doctor Franklin was led off from his attachment
to the interest of America; yet this distinguished sage became
susceptible of a court influence that startled his jealous and more
frigid colleague, Mr. Lee.

Thus the trio of American agents at the Court of France were

designated by peculiar traits of character; yet the respectability of Dr.
Franklin and Mr. Lee was never lessened either at home or abroad
notwithstanding some variation of opinion. But Mr. Deane immersed
in the pleasures of a voluptuous city, a dupe to the intrigues of deeper
politicians, not awed by the aged philosopher the tools of the French
minister, and the supple instrument of military characters, ambitious
of rifling into the fair field of glory in America, he wasted the property
and bartered away the honors of his country, by promising offices of
rank to 50 gentlemen at a time. He sent many of these on to America
wit the most flattering expectations of promotion and even with ideas
of superseding the previous appointments of Congress.

Many of the French officers who arrived on the American continent at

this early period, with these fallacious hopes, were men of real merit,
military experience, and distinguished rank; but it was impossible for
Congress to provide for them all according to their views, without
deranging the whole army and disgusting many of their best officers.
Thus disappointed, some of them returned to France, under a cloud of
chagrin that was not easily dissipated.

The indiscretion of Mr. Deane did not terminate with his engagements
to individual strangers; for while he embarrassed Congress sand the
army with his contracts and his country by squandering the public
moneys, he had the audacity to propose in a letter to a person of
influence that a foreign prince should be invited to command the
armies of the United States. [Deane in this letter name Prince
Ferdinand of Brunswick as a suitable commander for the armies of
the free Americans.]

From the outlines of these heterogeneous characters, it is not strange

that the most incurable animosities took place among the
commissioners, and arose to such a height as to endanger the
interests of an infant republic. Indeed the fate of America in some
measure depended on the vigor, integrity, prudence, and unanimity of
her ministers abroad; but dissension ran to such a pitch among them
that it exposed them not only to the censure of their country, but to
the derision of Britain. Consequently, an immediate recall of some of
the American commissioners became necessary, and an order
passed in Congress, December, 1777 that Silas Deane, Esquire,
should immediately return to America. No reasons were offered for
his recall; and Mr. John Adams of the state of Massachusetts was
chosen to succeed as the commissioner in behalf of the United
States at the Court of France.

Mr. Deane arrived in America a short time after the treaty with France
had been received and ratified by Congress. He assumed an air of
importance and self-confidence; and as guilt frequently sends a hue
and cry after justice, in order to hoodwink the multitude, and calls
loudly for vengeance on such as are about to detect his villainy, he
offered a most inflammatory address to the public, complaining of ill
usage and vilifying Mr. Lee in the grossest terms. He criminated every
part of his public conduct, charged him with betraying his trust,
corresponding with gentlemen in England, impeding as much a
possible the alliance with France, and disclosing the secrets of
Congress to British noblemen. At the same time, he cast the most
virulent and insidious reflections on his brother, William Lee, agent for
Congress at the courts of Vienna and Berlin.

He claimed much merit relative to the treaty of alliance with France,

and complained

heavily that Congress delayed giving him an opportunity of vindicating

his own character, by an immediate public investigation. By these
bold suggestions and allegations, so injurious to Congress and to
their ministers the public mind was for a time greatly agitated But the
attack on individual character was defeated by the exertions of some
very able writers [Amor Dayton and others. Also Mr. Paine, author of
a pamphlet entitled Common Sense. See some observations on his
character, Note 6 at the end of this chapter.], who laid open the
iniquitous designs and practices of the delinquent and his abettors;
while Congress parried the abuse, they defended their own measures
and quieted the clamors of a party against themselves, by calling Mr.
Deane to a hearing on the floor of their house.

With the guise of innocence and the effrontery of guilt, he evaded the
scrutiny by pleading that his papers and vouchers were all left in
Europe, where, he alleged, the necessity of his own private affairs
required his immediate presence. In short, though it was obvious that
he had abused his commission, rioted long at the public expense,
and grossly slandered some of its most faithful servants, yet by the
influence of certain characters within and a tenderness for some
without, who might be exposed by too strict an investigation,
Congress were induced to suffer him again to leave the continent and
return to Europe, though into as a public character, yet without
punishment or judicial censure. He afterwards wandered from court to
court, and from city to city, for several years; at last, reduced o the
extreme of poverty and wretchedness, he died miserably in England.

Parties ran very high in Congress relative to the dissension among

their ministers. Mr. Lee had many friends in that assembly. Dr.
Franklin had more. And it was necessary for some mercantile
speculators in that body to endeavor to throw a veil over the
character of Mr. Deane that under its shade, the beams of clearer light
might not too deeply penetrate their own.

Mr. Robert Morris, a member of Congress from the state of

Pennsylvania, had undoubtedly been concerned in some very
profitable contracts in company with several French and American
gentlemen, besides Mr. Deane; and under the sanction of public
negotiations, the most lucrative trade was carried on, and the fortunes
of individual accumulated beyond calculation.
Monsieur Gerard, the French minister residing in Philadelphia, as
warmly attached to Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane and not less disgusted
with Mr. Lee. It may be observed that there are few public ministers
so tenacious of the dignity of their own character and conduct as not
occasionally to descent to rank among partisans and exert the
influence of public character to gratify private interest or resentment.
Thus Mr. Gerard, an idolizer of Dr. Franklin, supported Mr. Deane,
offered pensions to take off the defenders of Mr. Lee, and instead of
retaining the superiority of an ambassador from one of the first
monarchs in Europe, appeared the champion of a club of merchants
and speculators. He resided but a short time in

America; the Chevalier de la Luzerne superseded him as ambassador

to the United States, in the summer of 1779. The reasons of his
recall do not appear; but it was undoubtedly a prudent measure in the
Court of France, not to suffer a minister to continue after the had
discovered himself attached to a party.

Within a few months after Congress had made a new arrangement of

ministers, and Mr. Adams had been sent on in the room of Mr. Deane,
both Mr. Adams and Mr. Lee were directed to repair immediately to
American; and Dr. Franklin was appointed sole minister at the Court
of France. Americans, it is true, were early initiated in the spirit of
intrigue, but they were not yet so thoroughly acquainted with the
maneuvers of courts as to investigate the necessity of the sudden
recall of those gentlemen.

Mr. Lee had been very severely censured by many for his want of
address and his unaccommodating spirit that the French Court. Nor
had he been more successful in his negotiations with Spain. He had
resided some months at Madrid as commercial agent with powers if
practicable to negotiate a treaty or to obtain a load of money for the
use of the United States. But he was unacceptable to the court; and
though he had the abilities of a statesman, he was without the
address of a courtier; and his negotiations in Spain redounded little to
the advantage of America. Yet such was his integrity that he found it
not difficult on his arrival in his own country to reinstate himself fully in
the good opinion of the public and to wipe from his character the
aspersions of malice or prejudice.

Mr. Adams returned rather disgusted at the early revocation of his

commission, and the unexpected order thus speedily to leave the
Court of France. He did not himself repair to Congress, but retired
privately to his seat in Braintree, where he employed himself for a
time in preparing a concise statement of the situation and political
connections of the different powers of Europe, which he laid before
Congress, with his opinion of their interests and their views relative to
America, and recommended the pursuance of every step that might
tend to strengthen the alliance with France. Nothing can more
strongly exhibit the pride Mr. Adams felt in the Gallican alliance and
his zeal for supporting it than the expressions contained in his own
letters on this subject, on his first residence at the Court of France.

But in Mr. Adams's communications to Congress, he advised them

strenuously and invariably "to guard against the principles in
government and the manner that were so opposite to the
constitutions of America, and the character of a young people, who
might hereafter be called to form establishments for a great nation."
[This was under the despotism of kings. It was monarchic principles
and manners that Mr. Adams then admonished his countrymen to
avoid. See his letter to Congress, August 4, 1779.] Mr. Adams
continued this retired and mortified situation for some months; but we
shall see in its place, he was afterwards called upon to transact
affairs of a very high and important nature.

It was obvious to everyone that from the family interest and

connection between the courts of France and Spain, the latter would
undoubtedly cooperate with the views and designs of the former; but
no treaty, alliance or any public countenance had yet been given to
the Americans by the Court of Madrid. Spain had oscillated between
peace and war for several years. She had offered herself as mediatrix
among the contending powers; but insulted on the seas and her
interference rejected by Britain, she appeared in June 1779 to act a
more decided part. The Marquis de Almodovar, the Spanish
ambassador in London, delivered a rescript to Lord Weymouth about
this time, couched in language that amounted to a declaration of war.

On these movements in Europe, Congress thought proper again to

send an envoy to the Court to Spain. John Jay, Esquire, a gentleman
from the state of New York, was appointed to this mission, September
27, 1779. His capacity was equal to the business. He was well
received, and his public character acknowledged; yet his negotiations
were of little consequence to America, while he resided in Spain.
Perhaps apprehensive that the spirit of freedom and revolt might
extend to her own colonies, Spain chose to withhold her assistance.

No treaty with the United States was effected by Mr. Jay's mission, no
concessions with regard to the free navigation of the Mississippi or
any security for trade to the Bay of Honduras were obtained. On
these important points, he was directed to negotiate as well as solicit
a loan of money sufficient to assist eh United States in pursuit o their
measures. But no loan of money of any consequence was to be
drawn from the frigid and wary Spaniards. Notwithstanding the
necessities of America were fully exposed by her minister, the highest
favor he could obtain was the trivial load of 4000 or 5000 pounds.

Spain had no predilection in favor of the independence of the British

colonies. She had always governed her own plantations beyond the
Atlantic with a very arbitrary and despotic hand. Their contiguity and
intercourse with the North Americans led her to fear that the spirit of
freedom might be contagious and their own subjects there so far
infected as to render it necessary to keep themselves in reserve
against future contingencies. This they had done for some time after
a war was announced between Great Britain and France; but it was
impossible for them to continue longer neutral. France was now
involve din war, and decidedly supporting the Americans, and
England, in expectation of a union of interests, and a modification of
the same line of conduct, in the courts of several branches of the
House of Bourbon, had in various instances discovered a hostile
disposition, and stood in a menacing posture, as if both her sword
and her flag were ready to meet the conjoined forces of both France
and Spain.

His Catholic Majesty thought it impossible for him longer to delay an

explicit declaration of his intentions. He published a long manifesto,
giving the reasons for a declaration of war. He ordered his
ambassador to retired from the Court of London, without taking leave,
and in a schedule published by order, great moderation was
professed. In a paper delivered to Lord Weymouth by the Marquis de
Almodovar, it was observed that "the causes of complain given by the
Court of London not having ceased, and that Court showing no
dispositions to give reparation for them, the King has resolved, and
orders his ambassador to declare that the honor of Crown, the
protection which he owes to his subjects, and his own personal dignity
do not permit him to suffer their insults to continue and to neglect any
longer the reparation of those already received; and that in this view,
notwithstanding the pacific dispositions of His Majesty, and even the
particular inclination he had always had and expressed, for cultivating
the friendship of his Britannic Majesty, he find himself under the
disagreeable necessity of making use of all the means which the
Almighty has entrusted him with, to obtain that justice which he has
solicited by so many ways, without being able to acquire it.

"In confiding on the justice of his cause, His Majesty hopes that the
consequences of this resolution will not be imputed to him before God
or man; and that other nations will form a suitable idea of this
resolution by comparing it to the conduct which they themselves have
experience on the part of the British ministry."
While things stood thus in the courts of Great Britain, France, and
Spain, the indecisive movement for a time in the southern states of
America, engaged the public attention, and awakened anxious
apprehensions for the result; at the same time that a scene of rapine
and plunder was spread through the central parts, Virginia, New York,
and Connecticut.

The predatory excursions of this year were begun early in the

summer. An expedition to the Chesapeake, under the command of
Sir George Collier of the navy and General Matthews of the army,
served no other purpose than to alarm, distress, and impoverish the
towns of Portsmouth, Suffolk, and other places in the state of Virginia
that fell under their spirit of conflagration. They stayed but a short
time there. After enriching themselves with the spoils of the
inhabitants and leaving many of those who had once basked in the
lap of affluence the houseless children of poetry, they left the state, by
order of the British commander in chief.

The pleasant line of towns bordering on Long Island Sound, in the

state of Connecticut were the next who felt the severe consequences
of this mode of war from British troops supported and covered by the
squadron under Sir George Collier, who was recalled from the
Chesapeake to aid similar measures farther north.

About the beginning of July, Governor Tryon with a number of

disaffected Americans and General Garth with a ravaging party of
British troops and German Yaughers, landed at New Haven, took
possession of the town with little resistance, plundered and insulted
the inhabitants, on whom every cruelty was perpetrated, except
burning their houses; this was delayed from their thirst for plunder and
the barbarous abuse of the hapless females who fell sacrifices to
their wanton and riotous appetites. Hurried afterwards by their
avarice for new scenes of plunder and misery, they left New Haven
and repaired to Fairfield, where they landed on the seventh of the
month.
This place suffered a still more cruel and severe fate. Their landing at
Fairfield was but feebly opposed. The militia indeed made a faint
resistance, but soon retreated, and left their property and, in many
instances, their families to the mercy of the enemy. This was not
altogether from the want of courage, but from a consciousness of
their won comparative weakness, and a strange delusive opinion that
the generosity and compassion of the British would be exercised
towards them when they found only a few women, children, and aged
men left, who seemed to have thrown themselves on their
compassion.

The historian would willingly draw a veil over the wanton outrages
committed on the wretched inhabitants left in the town, most o them
of the feebler sex. Some of them, the first characters in the place,
from a wish to save their property, and an indiscreet confidence in the
honor of Governor Tryon, which whom they had been personally
acquainted, and who had formerly received many civilities at their
houses, risked their own persons and their honor amid the fury of a
conquering enemy on a kind of sham protection from a man who had
forgotten the obligations of politeness and the gratitude due to those
who had treated him with every mark of

genteel hospitality.

The principal ladies of Fairfield, who from little knowledge of the world,
of the usages of armies or the general conduct of men, when
circumstances combine to render them savage, could not escape the
brutality of the soldiery, by showing their protections from Governor
Tryon. Their houses were rifled, their persons abused, and after the
general pillage and burning of everything valuable in the town, some
of these miserable victims of sorrow were found half distracted in the
swamps and in the fields, whither they had fled in the agonies of
despair.
Tryon endeavored afterwards to exculpate his own character and
made some futile excuses for his conduct. He would have justified
himself on the principles of policy when he felt the indignation
expressed against him for his want of humanity; but policy, reason,
and virtue equally revolt at modes of war that eradicate from the mind
not only the moral feelings, but the sense of decency, civility, and
politeness.

The avidity of this party was by no means satiated by the distresses of

New Haven and the total destruction of Fairfield. The neighboring
towns of Norwalk and Greenfield suffered a similar fate. the waste of
property in shipping and merchandise was there more complete. The
whole coast equally defenseless and exposed to their ravages
expected to fall in the same way; but, whether from compunction or
policy is uncertain, whichever it might be, Sir Henry Clinton thought
proper to check the career of depredation by a sudden recall within
ten days of their landing at New Haven.

Meantime, General Washington had kept himself in a defensive and

respectable situation in the central parts of America, but without a
movement for any very capital stroke, after the derangement of a well
concerted plan for an attack on the city of New York. He had
expected the aid of the French squadron from the West Indies to
facilitate this judicious measure. The militia of several states had
been collected to assist in the design. the arm was in high spirits.
Sanguine expectations were formed; and everything promised
success to the enterprise. But the Count de Estaing, perhaps
ambitious to subjugate one of the states to the arms of his master
and not dreaming of effectual resistance to a force, both by land and
sea, that might reasonably be thought sufficient for the most capital
enterprise, instead of uniting first with General Washington and
covering his attempt on New York by a respectable necessary naval
force, he thought proper to hazard the reduction of Georgia on his
way, and then repair northward.
But his attack on Savannah, his unexpected repulse and retreat, not
only retarded, but totally prevented the decisive stroke contemplated
by Washington, nor less apprehended by Clinton, who was thereby
induced to order the evacuation of Newport and draw off all his troops
from that quarter. Newport and its environs had been infested with
the inconvenience and misery of an army and navy on their borders
from the seizure of that place by Earl Percy in 1776 to their relief in
the present year.

The circumstances above related put it out of the power of General

Washington to prosecute the feasible system he had meditated. The
militia were dismissed, and many of the continental troops returned
as usual at the expiration of their term of enlistment. General Clinton
had made several attempts to draw the American commander from
his strong and defensible post in the Jerseys, as well as to induce him
to divide his army to oppose the desultory invasions and
depredations on the defenseless east coast. But General
Washington very well knew the advantages he might lose by
weakening the main body of his army and was too wise and judicious
to be ensnared by the maneuvers of the British commander.

The first object of Sir George Collier's speedy recall from the ravage of
the borders of Virginia was to cooperate with General Vaughan in the
important movement son the North River. The principal design of this
project was to obtain some important posts on the Hudson. General
Vaughan, who had before been distinguished for his feats there, still
commanded on the Hudson, but higher up the river. On the arrival the
squadron commanded by Sir George Collier, they united, and
immediately made themselves masters of Stoney Point on the one
side, and Verplanks Neck on the other.

After these places had been dismantled the preceding autumn by Sir
Henry Clinton, the Americans had in part repaired the works. In each
post they behaved with spirit and resolution; but as their numbers
were inconsiderable, and their works unfinished, they soon
surrendered prisoners of war, on the single condition of humane
treatment.

Not many days after this event, General Washington ordered a

detachment of his most active troops, under the command of General
Wayne, to attempt the recovery of Stoney Point. This bold and
vigorous enterprise was conducted in a manner peculiarly honorary
both to the officers and soldiers, but not altogether so consistent with
humanity. they were directed not to load their pieces, but to depend
on the bayonet. One who appeared discontented at the order was
shot on the occasion. Though this summary mode of punishment is
severe, it was designed to prevent the effusion of blood. Doubtless,
had the British been early alarmed by the fire of the American arms,
the carnage would have been greater.

The works had been repaired and strengthened with great alacrity,
and two British regiments, some loyal Americans, and several
companies of artillery left in garrison by General Vaughan. On the
evening of July 5, after a difficult and hazardous march, Wayne
reached, surprised, and recovered the post, in spite of the valiant
opposition within. Colonel Fleury, an amiable, ambitious, and spirited
young Frenchman, had the honor and peculiar pleasure of striking the
British standard with his own hand. this youthful officer had received
the thanks of Congress and the honorary rewards of the soldier for
his distinguished bravery in several previous rencounters.

General Wayne was himself slightly wounded in the enterprise; but the
united applauses of the commander in chief, of Congress and of his
country, which he received would have been ample compensation for
more painful wounds, or much severer fatigue. The acquisition of this
post was more honorary than important. An attempt to have held it
would have been fruitless. It had been previously determined in a
council of war that on the success of Wayne, the works should be
demolished and the stores brought off.
Sir Henry Clinton immediately set his whole army in motion for the
relief of Verplanks, which was momently expected to surrender to the
American arms, and for the recovery of Stoney Point. He succeeded
in his wishes; and after only three days of possession, this contested
spot a third time changed its masters; and the command of the whole
river for a time continued in the hands of the British.

Several other maneuvers took place about this time near New York,
and the more central parts of the country that kept up the spirit of
enterprise and the honor of the arms of the states. But a more
consequential affair occupied the public attention in the eastern
extreme of the American territory. A Colonel Maclean had been sent
with a party of British troops from Halifax to land at the mouth of the
Penobscot, within the jurisdiction of the Massachusetts. He erected a
fort, and established a strong post in a convenient situation for
harassing the trade and distressing the young settlements bordering
on the province of Nova Scotia. When this intelligence was received
at Boston, the hardy and enterprising sprit of the men of
Massachusetts did not hesitate to make immediate preparation to
dislodge n enemy whose temerity had led them to encroach on their
state.

It had been only four years since the commencement of hostilities with
Britain. America was then not only without a navy, but without a
single ship of war. The idea of constructing and equipping a maritime
force was ridiculed by some and thought chimerical and impracticable
by others. But the human mind is generally capable of accomplishing
whatever it has resolution to under take.

By the industry and vigilance of public bodies and pirate adventurers,

they had in this short period acquired a navy that a century before
would have made a

respectable figure among the most warlike nations; and within ten
days after Maclean's attempt was known at Boston, the Warren, a
handsome new frigate of force, commanded by Commodore
Saltonstall and seventeen other continental, state, and pirate ships,
were equipped, manned, victualled, and ready for sea. They were
accompanied by an equal number of transports, with a considerable
body of land forces who embarked in high spirits and with the
sanguine expectation of a short and successful expedition.

This business was principally conducted by the state legislature. Nor

would the gentlemen of the continental navy board consent to hazard
the public ships, unless the commander officers were positively
enjoined to execute their design immediately. They were
apprehensive that nay delay might give opportunity to send a superior
force from New York. from the dilatory conduct of the Americans,
after they reached Penobscot, these apprehensions were realized;
and before any efficient movements had taken place, Sir George
Collier with a heavy squadron under his command, appeared for the
relief of Maclean.

General Lovell, who commanded by land, was a man of little military

experience and never made for enterprise sufficient to dislodge the
British from a post of consequence or in any way complete an
undertaking that required decision, promptitude and judgment.
Commodore Saltonstall proved himself a character of as little
enterprise, and in this instance, of less spirit than the commander of
the troops designed to act on shore.

Thus by the shameful delay of both and to the mortification of many

brave officers who accompanied them, the expedition terminated in
the disgrace of both army and navy and the total destruction of the
fleet. On the first appearance of George Collier, the American
shipping moved up the river with a show of resistance, but in reality to
escape by land from an enemy they seemed not to have expected,
nor had the courage to face. Two of their best ships fell into the
hands of the British. The remainder, lighted by their won hands,
suffered a complete conflagration. The panic-struck troops, after
leaving their own ships, chagrined at the conduct of Saltonstall, and
disgusted with the inactivity, indecision, and indiscretion of Lovell,
made their escape through the woods in small, indiscriminate parties
of soldiers and sailors. On their way, they agreed on nothing, but in
railing at their officers and suffering the natural ebullitions of
disappointment to spend itself in mutual reproaches. With fatigue,
hunger, and difficulty, they reached the settlements on the Kennebec,
and brought the intelligence of their won defeat.

It was not in the power of the infant states to repair their maritime loss
during the war; and to complete the ruin of their little navy, some of
their best ships were lost in the defense of Charleston the year
following, as will be seen hereafter. What added to the mortification
of this last stroke was that these ships were prepared and ready to
sail in order to prosecute a very flattering expedition projected by the
gentlemen of the navy board in the eastern department when they
received an express order from Congress to send them to South
Carolina.

Scarcely an single event during the great contest caused more

triumph to Britain than this total demolition of the beginning of an
American navy. So successful and enterprising had they been that a
gentleman of the first information has observed that "the privateers
from Boston in one year would defray more than one half the
expense of that year's war." [See letters of the honorable John Adams
to Mr. Calkoen.] By their rapid progress, they had given the promise
of a formidable appearance on the ocean that in time they might
become a rival even to the proud mistress of the seas; but this blow
gave a fatal stroke of the present to all farther attempts of the kind.

After the loss of Charleston, the ship Alliance and the Deane frigate
were the only remnants left to the American navy. These were soon
after sold at public auction, the navy boards dissolved, and all
maritime enterprise extinguished, except by private adventurers.
They were also much less fortunate after the loss of the public ships
than they had been at the beginning of the war. It was calculated that
two out of three were generally captured by the British, after the year
1780. Time may again revive the ambition for a naval power there, as
American is abundantly replete with everything necessary for the
equipment of fleets of magnitude and respectability.

After all it may justly be considered that the constructing a national

fleet is but an addition to human misery; for besides the vast expense
of such equipments, the idle and licentious habits of a vast body of
sailors, a naval armament is only a new engine to carry death and
conflagration to distant, unoffending, innocent nations. The havoc of
human life on the ocean, the great balance of evil resulting from naval
engagements, if duly weighted in the scale of equity or humanity
might lead the nations with one general consent, to their total
annihilation. Yet undoubtedly, the pride of empire and the ambition of
kids will still induce them to oppress their subjects for the purpose of
enhancing their own power, by this horrid instrument of human
carnage; an that they will continue to waft death and destruction to
every corner of the globe, that their maritime thunders can reach.

It is true the etiquette of modern courts usually introduces some

plausible apologies as a sort of prelude to the opening of those real
scenes of war and destruction which they are preparing to exhibit by
that monstrous engine of misery, a naval armament. "They usually
trumpet forth the godlike attributes of justice, equity, mercy, and
above all, that universal benevolence and tenderness to mankind with
which their respective courts of sovereigns are supposed to be
infinitely endued; and deplore in the most pathetic strains those very
evils that they are bringing on and those miseries which they are
exerting their utmost powers to inflict."

But it is to be feared that it will be long before we shall see a

combination of powers , whatever maybe their professions, whose
ultimate object is the establishment of universal equity, liberty, and
peace among mankind. War, the courage of the human race, either
from religious or political pretenses, will probably continue to torment
the inhabitants of the earth until some new dispensation shall
renovate the passions correct the vices, and elevate the mind of
mortals beyond the pursuits of time.

The world has so long witnessed the sudden and dreadful devastation
made by naval armaments that it is unnecessary to expatiate thereon;
it is enough to observe that the splendid display of maritime power
has appeared on the largest theaters of human action. The proudest
cities have unexpectedly been invaded and the inhabitants involved
in misery by the firs of those floating engines in too many instances to
particularize for the first building up a British navy to the early attempt
of America to strengthen themselves by following the example of the
parent state, in building and equipping ships of war in the beginning
for their opposition to British power.

The truth of this observation may be evinced by a single instance of

surprise and capture by a little squadron under the command of
Commodore Hopkins, only the second year after hostilities
commenced between Great Britain and the colonies. The American
commander of a ship of only 36 guns and seven or eight small
vessels surprised New Providence, captured the governor, lieutenant
governor, and other officers of the Crown, seized near a hundred
pieces of cannon, and carried off all the warlike stores on the island.
But not habituated to the usual cruelties exercised on such
occasions, though they continued there two or three weeks, they
offered no insult to the inhabitants and took possession of no private
property without paying for it. This was an instance of lenity that
seldom falls under observation, where men have been longer inured
to scenes and services that harden the heart, and too frequently
banish humanity from the breast of man.

The small naval armament constructed by the United States, did not
continue long enough in existence either to attempt great enterprise
or to become hardened by the cruel achievements consequent on the
invasion of cities, towns, and villages, and desolating them by the
sudden torrents o fire poured in upon their inhabitants. Some future
day may, however, render it necessary for Americans to build and arm
in defense o their extensive sea board, and the preservation of their
commerce; when they may be equally emulous of maritime glory, an
become the scourge of their fellow men, on the same grade of
barbarity that has been exhibited by some other nations.

**************************

Note 5

Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union between the states of

New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Providence
Plantation, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania,
Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and
Georgia.

Article 1 The Style of this confederacy shall be "The United States of

America."

Article 2 Each state retains its sovereignty, freedom and independent,

and every power, jurisdiction, and right, which is not by this
confederation expressly delegated to the United States in Congress
assembled.

Article 3 The said states hereby severally enter into a firm league of
friendship with each other, for their common defense, the security of
their liberties, and their mutual and general welfare; binding
themselves to assist each other against all force offered to or attacks
made upon them, or any of them, on account of religion, sovereignty,
trade, or any other pretense whatever.

Article 4 The better to secure and perpetuate mutual friendship and

intercourse among the people of the different states in this union, the
free inhabitants of each of these states (paupers, vagabonds, and
fugitives from justice excepted) shall be entitled to all privileges and
immunities of free citizens in the several states; and the people of
each state shall have free ingress and regress to and from any other
state; and shall enjoy therein all the privileges of trade and
commerce, subject to the same duties, impositions, and restrictions
as the inhabitants thereof respectively; provided that such restrictions
shall not extend so far as to prevent the removal or property imported
into any state, to any other state of which the owner is an inhabitant;
provided also that no imposition, duties, or restrictions shall be laid by
any state on the property of the United States or either of them.

If any person guilty of or charged with treason, felony, or other high

misdemeanors in any state shall flee from justice, and be found in
any of the United States, he shall, upon demand of the governor or
executive power of the state from which he fled, be delivered up and
removed to the state having jurisdiction of his offense.

Full faith and credit shall be given in each of these states to the
records, acts, and judicial proceedings of the courts and magistrates
of every other state.

Article 5 For the more convenient management of the general

interests of the United States, delegates shall be annually appointed
in such manner as the legislature of each state shall direct to meet in
Congress on the first Monday in November in every year; with a
power reserved to each state to recall its delegates or any of them at
any time within the year and to send others in their stead for the
remainder of the year.

No state shall be represented in Congress by less than two nor by

more than seven members; and no person shall be capable of being
a delegate for more than three years in any term of six years; nor
shall any person, being a delegate, be capable of holding any office
under the United States, for which he, or another for his benefit,
receives any salary, fees, or emolument of any kind.

Each state shall maintain its own delegates in a meeting of the states,
and while they act as members of the committee of the states.

In determining questions in the United States in Congress assembled,

each state hall have one vote.

Freedom of speech and debate in Congress shall not be impeached

or questioned in any court of place out of Congress; and the
members of Congress shall be protected in their persons from arrests
and punishments during the time of their going to and from and
attendance on Congress, except for treason, felony, or breach of the
peace.

Article 6 No state, without the consent of the United States in

Congress assembled, shall send any embassy to or receive any
embassy from or enter into any conference, agreement, alliance, or
treaty with any king, prince, or state: nor shall any person holding any
office of profit or trust under the United States or any of them accept of
any present, emolument, office, or title of any kind whatever from any
king, prince, or foreign state; nor shall the United States in Congress
assembled or any of them grant any title of nobility.

No two or more states shall enter into any treaty, confederation, or

alliance whatever between them, without the consent of the United
States in Congress assembled, specifying accurately the purposes
for which the same is to be entered into and how long it shall
continue.

No state shall lay any posts or duties which may interfere with any
stipulations in treaties entered into by the United States in Congress
assembled with any king, prince, or state, in pursuance of any
treaties already proposed by Congress to the courts of France and
Spain.

No vessels of war shall be kept up in time of peace by any state

except such numbers only as shall be deemed necessary by the
United States in Congress assembled for the defense of such state or
its trade; nor shall any body of forces be kept up by any state in time
of peace except such number only as in the judgment of the United
States in Congress assembled shall be deemed requisite to garrison
the forts necessary for the defense of such state; but every state shall
always keep up a well regulated and disciplined militia, sufficiently
armed and accoutered; and shall provide and constantly have ready
for use in public stores a due number of field pieces and tents, and a
proper quantity of arms, ammunition, and camp equipage.

No state shall engage in any war without the consent of the United
States in Congress assembled, unless such state be actually invaded
by enemies, or shall have received certain advice of a resolution
being formed by some nation of Indians to invade such state, and the
danger is so imminent as not to admit of a delay till the United States
in Congress assembled can be consulted; nor shall any state grant
commissions to any ships or vessels of war nor letters of marque or
reprisal, except it be after a declaration of war by the United States in
Congress assembled, and then only against the kingdom or state and
the subjects thereof, against which war has been so declared, and
under such regulations as shall be established by the United States in
Congress assembled; unless such state shall be infested by pirates; in
which case, vessels of war may be fitted out for that occasion, and
kept so long as the danger shall continue, or until the United States in
Congress assembled shall determine other ways.

Article 7 When land forces are raised by any state for the common
defense, all officers of or under the rank of colonel shall be appointed
by the legislature of each state respectively, by whom such forces
shall be raised, or in such manner as such state shall direct; and all
vacancies shall be filled up by the state which first made the
appointment.

Article 8 All charges of war, and all other expenses that shall be
incurred for the common defense or general welfare and allowed by
the United States in Congress assembled shall be defrayed out of a
common treasury, which shall be supplied by the several states in
proportion to the value of all land within each state, granted to or
surveyed for any person, as such land and the buildings and
improvements thereon shall be estimated according to such mode as
the Untied States in Congress assembled shall, from time to time,
direct and appoint. The taxes for paying that proportion shall be laid
and levied by the authority and direction of the legislatures of the
several states, within the time agreed upon by the United States in
Congress assembled.

Article 9 The United States in Congress assembled shall have the

sole and exclusive right and power of determining on peace an war,
except in the cases mentioned in the Sixth Article; or sending and
receiving ambassadors; entering into treaties and alliances; (provided
that no treaty of commerce shall be made whereby the legislative
powers of the respective states shall be restrained from imposing
such imposts and duties on foreigners as their own people are
subjected to or from prohibiting the exportation or importation of any
species of goods of commodities whatsoever); of establishing rules
for deciding in all cases what captures on land or water shall be legal,
and in what manner prizes taken by land or naval forces in the service
of the United States shall be divided or appropriated; of granting
letters of marque or reprisal in times of peace; appointing courts for ht
trial of piracies and felonies committed on the high seas, and
establishing courts for receiving and determining finally appeals in all
cases of captures; (provided that no member of Congress shall be
appointed a judge of any of he said courts.)

The United States in Congress assembled shall also be the last resort
on appear in all disputes and differences now subsisting or that
hereafter may arise between two or more states, concerning
boundary, jurisdiction, or any other cause whatever; which authority
shall always be exercised in the manner following: Whenever the
legislative or executive authority, or lawful agent, or any state in
controversy with another shall present a petition to Congress, stating
the matter in question and praying for a hearing, notice thereof shall
be given by order of Congress to the legislative or executive authority
of the other state in controversy, and a day assigned of the
appearance of the parties by their lawful agents, who shall then be
directed to appoint by joint consent commissioners or judges to
constitute a court of hearing and determining the matter in question;
but if they cannot agree, Congress shall name three persons out of
each of the United States; and from the list of such persons, each
party shall alternately strike out one, the petitioners beginning, until
the number shall be reduced to thirteen; and from that number not
less than seven nor more than nine names, as Congress shall direct,
shall in the presence of Congress be drawn out by lot; and the
persons whose names shall be so drawn, or any five of them, shall be
commissioners or judges to hear and finally determine the
controversy so always as a major part of the judges who shall hear
the cause shall agree in the determination; and if either party shall
neglect to attend at the day appointed, without showing reasons,
which Congress shall judge sufficient, or being present shall refuse to
strike, the Congress shall proceed to nominate three persons out of
each state, and the secretary of Congress shall strike in behalf of such
party absent or refusing; and the judgment and sentence of the court
to be appointed, in the manner before prescribe, shall be final and
conclusive; and if any of the parties shall refuse to submit to the
authority of such court, or to appear or defend their

claim or cause, the court shall nevertheless proceed to pronounce

sentence or judgment, which shall in like manner be final and
decisive, the judgment or sentence an other proceedings being in
either case transmitted to Congress and lodged among the acts of
Congress for the security of the parties concerned; provided that
every commissioner, before he sits in judgment, shall take an oath to
be administered by one of the judges of the supreme or superior
court of the state where the cause shall be tried, "Well and truly to
hear and determine the matter in question, according to the best of
his judgment, without favor, affection, or hope of reward"; provided
also that no state shall be deprived of territory for the benefit of the
United States.

All controversies concerning the private right of soil claimed under

different grants of two or more states, whose jurisdictions as they may
respect such lands, and the states which passed such grants are
adjusted, the said grants or either of them being at the same time
claimed to have originated antecedent to such settlement of
jurisdiction, shall on the petition of either party to the Congress of the
United States be finally determined as near as may be in the same
manner as is before prescribed for deciding disputes respecting
territorial jurisdiction between different states.

The United States in Congress assembled shall also have the sole
and exclusive right and power of regulating the alloy and value of coin
struck by their own authority or by that of the respective states --
fixing the standard of weights and measures throughout the United
States -- regulating the trade and managing all affairs with the
Indians, not members of any of the states, provided that the
legislative right of any state within its own limits be not infringed or
violated -- establishing and regulating post offices from one state to
another, throughout all the United States, and exacting such postage
on the papers passing through the same as may be requisite to
defray the expenses of the said office -- appointing all officers of the
land forces in the service of the United States, excepting regimental
officers -- appointing all the officers of the naval forces, and
commissioning all officers whatever in the service of the United
States -- making rules for the government and regulation of the said
land and naval forces, and directing their operations.
The United States in Congress assembled shall have authority to
appoint a committee to sit in the recess of Congress to be
denominated "A Committee of the States," and to consist of one
delegate from each state; and to appoint such other committees and
civil officers as my be necessary for managing the general affairs of
the United States under their direction -- to appoint one of their
number to preside, provided that no person be allowed to serve in the
office of president more than one year in any term of three years; ==
to ascertain the necessary sums of money to be raised for the service
of the United States, and to appropriate and apply the same for
defraying the pubic expenses -- to borrow money, or emit bills on the
credit of the United States, transmitting every half year to the
respective states an account of the sums of money so borrowed or
emitted -- to build and equip a navy -- to agree upon the number of
land forces, and to make requisitions from each state for its quota, in
proportion to the number of white inhabitants in such state; which
requisition shall be binding, and thereupon the legislature of each
state shall appoint the regimental officers, raise the men, and clothe,
arm, and equip them in a soldier-like manner, at the expense of the
United States; and the officers and men so clothed, armed, and
equipped shall march to the place appointed and within the time
agreed on by the United States in Congress assembled. But if the
United Sates in Congress assembled shall, on consideration of
circumstances, judge proper that any state should not raise men or
should raise a smaller number than its quota and that any other state
should raise a greater number of men than the quota thereof, such
extra number shall be raised, officered, clothed, armed, and equipped
in the same manner as the quota of such state, unless the legislature
of such state shall judge that such extra number cannot be safely
spared out of the same, in which case they shall raise, officer, clothe,
arm, and equip as many such extra number as they judge can be
safely spared. And the officers and men so clothed, armed, and
equipped shall march to the place appointed and within the time
agreed on by the United States in Congress assembled.

The United States in Congress assemble shall never engage in a war

nor grant letters of marque and reprisal in time of peace, nor enter
into any treaties or alliances, nor coin money, nor regulate the value
thereof nor ascertain the sums and expenses necessary for the
dense and welfare of the Untied States, or any of them; nor emit bills,
nor borrow money on the credit of the Untied States; nor appropriate
money, nor agree upon the number of vessels of war to be built or
purchased or the number of land or sea forces to be raised nor
appoint a commander in chief of the army or navy, unless nine states
assent to the same; nor shall a question on any other point, except
for adjourning from day to day, be determined unless by the votes of
a majority of the United States in Congress assembled.

The Congress of the United States shall have power to adjourn at any
time within the year and to any place within the United States, so that
no period of adjournment be for a longer duration than the space of
six months, and shall publish the journal of their proceedings monthly,
except such parts thereof relating to treaties, alliance, or military
operations, as in their judgment require secrecy; and the yeas and
nays of the delegate of each state on any question shall be entered o
the journal, when it is desired by any delegate; and the delegates of a
state or any of them, at his or their request, shall be furnished with a
transcript of the said journal, except such parts as are above
excepted, to lay before the legislatures of the several states.

Article 10 The Committee of the States or any nine of them shall be

authorized to execute, the recess of Congress, such of the powers of
Congress as the United States in Congress assembled, by the
consent of the nine states shall from time to time think expedient to
vest them with; provided that no power be delegated to the said
committee, for the exercise of which, by the articles of confederation,
the voice of nine states in the Congress of the United States
assembled is requisite.

Article 11 Canada acceding to this confederation and joining in the

measures of the United States shall be admitted into and entitled to
all the advantages of this Union; but no other colony shall be admitted
into the same, unless such admission be agreed to by nine states.

Article 12 All bills of credit emitted, moneys borrowed, and debts

contract by or under the authority of Congress, before the assembling
of the United States, in pursuance of the present confederation, shall
be deemed an considered as a charge against the United States, for
payment and satisfaction whereof the said United States, and the
public faith are hereby solemnly pledge.

Article 13 Every state shall abide by the determinations of the United

States in Congress assembled on all questions which by this
confederation are submitted to them. And the articles of this
confederation shall be inviolably observed by every state, and the
union shall be perpetual; nor shall any alteration at any time hereafter
be made in any of them; unless such alteration be agreed to in a
Congress of the Untied States, and be afterwards confirmed by the
legislatures of every state.

These articles shall be proposed to the legislatures of all the United

States to be considered an, if approved of by them, they are advised
to authorize their delegate to ratify the same in the Congress of the
United States; which being done, the same shall become conclusive.

By order of Congress, Henry Laurens, president

***********************************

Note 6

The name of Thomas Paine has become so generally known both in

Europe and America that a few strictures on his character may not be
uninteresting.
Mr. Paine was a native of England, but he had resided in America
some time before the American Revolution took place. He warmly
advocated the cause of the colonies and wrote in the spirit of the
times with much applause. Several of his bold publications displayed
a considerable share of wit and ingenuity, though his arguments were
not always conclusive. His Crisis, his Common Sense, and some
other writings were well adapted to animate the people, and to
invigorate their resolutions in opposition to the measures of the British
administration.

Though not generally considered a profound politician, yet as it was

then thought he wrote on principles honorable to the human
character, his celebrity was extensive in America and was afterwards
disseminated in England; and his merit as a writer for a time
appreciated by a work entitled the Rights of Man, which was replete
with just and dignified sentiments on a subject so interesting to
society.

His celebrity might have been longer maintained and his name have
been handed down with applause had he not afterwards have left the
line of politics and presumed to touch on theological subjects, of
which he was grossly ignorant, as well as totally indifferent to every
religious observance as an individual, and in some instances his
morals were censured.

Persecuted in England, he repaired to France, some time before

monarchy was subverted in that nation. There, after listening to the
undigested rant of infidels of antecedent date, and learning by rote
the jargon of the modern French literati, who zealously labored in the
filed of skepticism, he attempted to undermine the sublime doctrines
of the Gospel, and annihilate the Christian system. ["The infidel has
shot his bolts away, Till his exhausted quiver yielding none, He gleans
the blunted shafts that have recoiled, and aims them at the shield of
truth again." Cowper.] Here he betrayed his weakness and want of
principle, in blasphemous scurrilities and impious raillery, that at once
sunk his character, and disgusted every rational and sober mind.

It is no apology that this was done at a period, when all principle

seemed to lie prostrate beneath the confusions and despotism of the
Robespierian reign. It is true, this insignificant theologian, who
affected to hold in contempt all religion, or any expectations of a
future state, was at this time trembling under the terrors of the
guillotine; and while imprisoned, he endeavored to ingratiate himself
into the favor of the ruling faction of France by leveling his sarcastic
pen against opinions that had been for ages held sacred among
mankind.

The effusions of infidelity, entitled the Age of Reason would not have
been thought worthy of a serious refutation had not much industry
been employed to disseminate this worthless pamphlet among the
common classes of mankind. The young, the ignorant, the superficial
and licentious, pleased with the attempt to let loose the wild passions
of men by removing so efficient a guard as is contained in the sacred
scriptures, this pernicious work was by them fought for, and read with
avidity. This consideration drew out the pens of men of character and
ability to antidote the poison of licentious wit.

No one had more merit in the effort than the learned, pious, and
excellent Dr. Richard Watson, Bishop of Landff. His works have
always been read with pleasure and applause, by every man of
genius, virtue, and taste, in whatever branch of literature he drew his
pen. His observations on the writings of Paine, his letters to Mr.
Gibbon, with a concluding address to young gentlemen, will be read
with delight and improvement by every person who adores the
benignity of divine government, long after the writings of infidels of
talent and ingenuity are sunk into oblivion.

Men of discernment are ever better pleased with truth, in its most
simple garb, than with the sophisticated, though elegant, style of wit
and raillery, decorated for deception; and the name of Voltaire, with
other wits an philosophers of the same description will be forgotten
and even the celebrated Gibbon will cease to be admired by the real
friends of the Christian dispensation, while its defenders will be held
in veneration to the latest ages.

The lovers of liberty on reasonable and just principles were

exceedingly hurt that a man so capable as was Mr. Paine, of
exhibiting political truth in a pleasing garb, and defending the rights of
man with eloquence and precision, should prostitute his talents to
ridicule divine revelation, and destroy the brightest hopes of a rational
and immoral agent.

Mr. Paine out-lived the storms of revolution both in America and in

France, and he may yet add one instance more to the versatility of
human events by out-living his own false opinions and foolish
attempts to break down the barriers of religion, and we wish he may
by his own pen endeavor to antidote some part of the poisons he has
spread.

_________________

Chapter Fifteen:

A retrospect of some naval transactions in the West Indies 1778 and

1779. Affairs in Georgia concisely reviewed. General Lincoln sent to
take the command at the southward. The Count de Estaing's arrival in
Georgia. Savannah closely besieged by the combined forces of
France and America. Repulsed by General Prescott. The Count of
Estaing leaves the southern clime. The Count Pulaski slain in
Georgia. Some anecdotes of Count Kosciusko.
From the concise mode of narration hitherto observed in these annals,
a particular detail of naval operations will not be expected. Yet it is
necessary to look a little back, and observe that an insular war had
raged between the British and French in the West Indies, during the
winter of 1778, though they had not yet received any intelligence that
a formal declaration of hostilities between those two potent nations
had taken place.

The island of Dominca was seized by the Marquis de Bouille,

governor of Martinico, as early as September, 1778; but the terms
imposed on the inhabitants by the conqueror, were so mild that they
scarcely felt the change of sovereignty. No licentious rudeness or
avaricious pillage was permitted by the humane and honorable
commander, who, through all his conduct in the West Indies,
exhibited a specimen of that generous compassion always honorary
to the conqueror and to human nature.

The loss of the island of Dominca was peculiarly mortifying to the

Court of St. James, as it had been ceded to Great Britain on the last
peace, as a kind of balance of accounts, after a very expensive war,
with the House of Bourbon.

Admiral Barrington with a considerable force lay at this time at

Barbadoes, in a very anxious and inactive state. He had yet no orders
for hostile operations; but he was soon after relieved by the arrival of
5000 men commander by General Grant, conveyed by six ships of
the line and a number of frigates, under the direction of commodore
Hotham. The want of instructions, and even of intelligence that might
be depended on, had exceedingly embarrassed the British admiral;
but on Hotham's arrival, an expedition to the island of St. Lucia was
prosecuted with celerity and success.

The chevalier de Micaud, the commandant, took all the precaution of

a brave and judicious officer. The main point as to prevent the
completion of the British success until he should be relieved by the
arrival of the French squadron from Boston, which he had the highest
reason every moment to expect. The Count of Estaing had formed
the design and was in force sufficient to have swept all the leeward
islands, before the junction of Admiral Barrington and Commodore
Hotham. But interrupted in his military progress by a second violent
gale in the American seas, and seldom a favorite of fortune, he did
not appear in sight of St. Lucia until the last French flag was struck.
He, however, made some spirited, but successless efforts for the
recovery of the islands. The vigilance and valor of the British
commander defeated this design; to which was added the
mortification of repeated disappointment in several valiant
rencounters with the bold and resolute English.

Though the Count de Estaing's ships were equal in force and

experience had shown that neither his officers nor seamen were
deficient in courage, yet after he quitted St. Lucia, he apparently
declined a general engagement and within 10 days withdrew to Port
Royal. He was frequently insulted while there by the appearance of
challenge from the British flag; but he still adhered to his own system
of inaction, determined to undertake no capital stroke before the
arrival of fresh reinforcements from Europe. It was not until the
month of June, 1779 that this event took place when the arrival of
Monsieur de la Motte, with everything necessary for the most
vigorous naval operations excited the Count de Estaing to immediate
enterprise.

The first object of attack was the valuable island of St. Vincents, which
had formerly cost much British blood to arrest and secure by the cruel
attempt to exterminate the unfortunate and innocent Caraibs. After
the easy acquisition of this island, the Count proceeded to the
Grenades. He there landed 2000 or 3000 men under the command of
Count Dillon, a brave Irish officer in the French service. He also
headed a strong column himself and attempted to carry the most
defensible fortress by storm. His superiority of strength insured his
success; and Lord Macartney was obliged to offer a surrender, on the
proposals of capitulation he had at first rejected; but the Count
received and treated the governor's flag with an unbecoming hauteur.
He made new and severe proposals in such a tone of defiance and
contempt that both the governor and the inhabitants chose rather to
surrender at discretion than to bind themselves to such hard
conditions as neither the customers of nations nor the justice of
courts had usually required.

There is much reason to believe that the Count de Estaing did not
exercise all the lenity that ought to be expected from a brave and
generous conqueror. On the contrary, after this new acquisition, the
inhabitants were plundered and distressed; an unbounded license
raged among the soldiery, until their excesses were checked by the
humanity of Count Dillon, who paid every attention to the miseries of
the people; and supported by his own regiment, he rendered the
condition of the conquered island less deplorable.

The capture of St. Lucia was in a degree fatal to the conquerors. The
noxious air of an unhealthy island in a burning climate did more than
the sword of France to waste the veterans of Britain. Sickness and
mortality raged and cut down the troops; and the squadron weakened
by the departure of Admiral Byron, to convoy the homeward bound
fleet of merchantmen, nothing of consequence was attempted in his
absence.

When he returned, both St. Vincents and the Grenades were in the
hands of the French; but so uncertain were the accounts at first
received of the wretched situation of the Grenades, that the British
commander determined to hazard an attempt for their relief. This
brought on a general, though not a decisive action. It was supported
on both sides with laudable spirit and bravery; but they finally
separated without victory on either. Yet the proud and gallant Britons,
whose island has long assumed the haughty style of mistress of the
seas, who have justly boasted their superiority in naval engagements,
could not forebear to claim the advantage in this doubtful conflict. But
it is certain the wounded fleets under the Admirals Barrington and
Byron found some difficulty in reaching St. Christophers, without some
of their ships falling into the hands of their enemy.

The Count de Estaing returned to Grenada; and the lilies of France

waved for a short time in the West Indies; and the English admirals
were insulted in their turn by the parade of the French fleet before St.
Christophers, in the same manner Lord Barrington had before
maneuvered in vain at Martinico, without provoking the Frenchmen to
engage. After these partial successes, the Count de Estaing soon left
the tropical seas and repaired again to the American continent, where
the assistance of a naval force was by this time exceedingly wanted
to aid the operations of the Americans.

The southern campaign had been opened the preceding year by the
seizure of the capital of Georgia. Sir Henry Clinton, late in the autumn
of 1778 had ordered a large detachment of Hessian, British, and
provincial troops, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel
Campbell, to Savannah, to assist Major General Prevost in further
prosecuting some unexpected advantages he had already gained.
They were escorted by a small squadron under the command of
Commodore Parker, and arrive din the Savannah December 27.

The state of Georgia was at this time in a very weak and defenseless
situation. Their frontiers were exposed to the depredations of the
savages; and the rude incursions o the wild borders who mixed with
them had often been so troublesome as to require the call of the
southern militia to check their outrages. Colonel Campbell landed his
troops immediately on his arrival in the river, and by several spirited
and judicious movements, possessed himself of the town of
Savannah, the capital of the state, with little or no loss, and obliged
General Robert Howe, a gentleman of North Carolina, who
commanded a party of about 800 militia, to retreat with precipitation.

Orders had been previously given by Sir Henry Clinton to Major

General Prevost, the commander in chief in East Florida, to repair
with all possible expedition to aid the invasion and reduction of
Georgia. This active officer immediately collected his remote
cantonments, and with dispatch and perseverance, pushed his march
through a hot and barren country of great extent. Surmounting
innumerable difficulties and fatigue, he reached Sunbury, and took
possession of the town and garrison, before Campbell had possess
himself of Savannah.

Both military skill and a great degree of humanity marked this first
important enterprise in the south. The British commander forbid that
the inhabitants not in arms should be either molested or plundered;
and by promises and proclamations encouraged them to submit
quietly to the authority of the parent state. Some acquiesced by
inclination, and many impelled by necessity, appeared ready to enlist
under the British standard; others, of more bold and independent
sentiments, made their escape across the river with the hope of an
asylum in South Carolina.

These successes again encouraged the disaffected and disorderly

people who had long infested the back parts of North Carolina, to
renew their incursions. Those insurgents had been apparently
subdued, their leaders cut off, and their spirits broken in the
beginning of the American convulsions; but their aversion to the
reigning powers in that state still rankled in their breasts. They had
impatiently waited an opportunity of displaying it in all the fierce and
cruel modes of savage war, in conjunction with the neighboring
Indians, to whom they had attached themselves.

They considered this a favorable crisis, and again left their rural
occupations. They united with some scattering parties of the same
description on the borders of South Carolina and Georgia, embodied
themselves, and in their progress committed ever outrage that might
be expected from an armed banditti. But on an attempt to join
General Prevost, their main body was attacked by the provincial
militia, many of them cut off, and others taken prisoners. The
remainder fled to the frontiers of Georgia, where, with their old
associates of the wilderness, and all others who could be collected in
the back settlements, they untied to aid General Prevost in his future
operations.

The hazardous situation of Georgia, and the imminent danger of the

wealthy sate of South Carolina had spread an alarm that awakened
to immediate exertion for the recovery of the one and the security of
the other. General Lincoln had seasonably been sent forward to take
the command in the southern department. He reached Savannah a
short time after Colonel Campbell's arrival there; but he found himself
not in so eligible a situation as might have been wished. The number
of troops under his command fell far short of expectation. The artillery
and stores were insufficient. And every difficulty was enhanced by the
want of order and discipline in the militia, who refused to submit to
the necessary subordination of armies. They left their posts and
retired at pleasure.

General Lincoln, however, consistent with his usual disposition on all

occasions, endeavored to make the best of his situation. He
continued himself at Purisburgh, with the main body of his army and
ordered General Ashe, with a detachment of 2000 men, to take a
strong post at a place called Briar Creek. His design was to secure
the upper part of the country against the loyalists, who were
everywhere collecting their strength.

Soon after General Ashe had taken possession of the advantageous

post that in the opinion of principal officers promised perfect security,
General Prevost formed and executed the design of surprising him
there. To facilitate this judicious measure, he made such
arrangements on the banks of the Savannah as took off the attention
of General Lincoln. At the same time, he ordered his brother, Colonel
Prevost, by a circuitous march of 50 miles, to fall unexpectedly on
Ashe's party at the creek. the success of the enterprise justified the
design. The whole detachment was routed, many of them killed or
captured; and thus the way was opened for the loyalists and their
copper-colored allies in the back country, to join Prevost without
molestation. After this action, which took place on March 3, the two
parties separated by the river, continued quietly in their own posts
until the later end of the month of April 1779. Savannah, Sunbury,
and some other towns were in the hands of the British, and the state
by proclamation laid under military government. Yet the people in
general considered themselves as belonging to the union.

General Lincoln, zealous to procure an election of delegates to

Congress from Georgia, which he expected would be impeded by
violence, felt his advantageous situation on the lower part of the river
and moved towards Augusta. This was rather an unfortunate
movement, as, had he continued his first station, he might have
secured Charleston for a time. Indeed, there was then little reason to
apprehend any immediate danger in that quarter. Yet he had the
precaution to leave General Moultrie, with 1500 men, to guard the
passes of the river.

The campaign in Georgia, however, did not redound much to the

advantage of the American arms, or to the honor of General Lincoln.
It was thought by some he did not discover himself a judicious and
experienced commander, who had penetration to calculate on
fortuitous events or resources at hand to extricate himself, when they
unexpectedly took place. Yet he supported a character, cool and
brave, under a variety of disappointments. He was, however, led a
circuitous dance from place to place, by the rapid movements of
General Prevost through the state of Georgia, until he was obliged to
move with more serious prospects towards Charleston.

The loss of his party at Briar Creek was no more than might have
been expected from the activity and vigor of such an officer as
Prevost, attending more to his military renown than to the political
maneuvers of the state. While General Lincoln was canvassing for
the election of a delegate to congress, the commander of the forces
of his antagonist was intent only on winning success in the field.

The active Prevost seized the moment of advantage; suddenly cross

the river in different parts, and penetrated into South Carolina, with
little or no opposition. The party under Moultrie consisting chiefly of
militia, on seeing themselves surrounded on all sides by British
troops, retreated hastily and secured themselves within the city of
Charleston.

General Prevost having thus succeeded, even beyond his most

sanguine expectations, in several enterprises of considerable
moment, inspired by his own wishes, and prompted by the
importunities of the loyalists, he formed the bolder resolution of
pushing directly for Charleston. He arrived at the River Ashley on May
11, crossed it, and within a few days summoned the city to surrender.
Nor had he any reason for some time to regret the determination. He
had every assurance from the disaffected Americans that Charleston
would surrender without resistance and that they had the best
authority for this decided opinion; nor did they in this instance so
totally disappoint the expectations of their British friends, as they
frequently had done, and continued to do in the subsequent
informations. It is true General Prevost did not immediately succeed
to the full completion of his hopes; but on the first summons to
surrender, the citizens assured him that no opposition should be
made, provided they might be permitted to continue in the state of
neutrality to the conclusion of the war.

This was the only instance in America of an offer made so derogatory

to the honor of the union. No single state, whatever might be their
distresses, ever expressed a wish during the war to be bound to a
neutral repose while their sister states were bleeding at every pore, in
support of the general cause. The conduct of the citizens of
Charleston cannot be accounted for, but from the momentary panic
which to which the human mind is liable, when sudden danger
presses before it has time to collect its own fortitude and to act with
decision and dignity consistent with previous principles.

South Carolina had been distinguished for the bold and active part
taken by that state against the measures of Britain. This was the first
southern colony, after Virginia, who adopted the proposal of a general
Congress; nor was there now any reason to suspect any defection in
the bulk of the inhabitants, thought there were numbers in the city of
Charleston attached to the royal cause. Her patriots were unshaken,
her officers brave; and the subsequent conduct of the people at large,
and the sufferings of individuals effaced the unfavorable impressions
this proposal might have left, had it not have been wiped off by the
vigorous opposition afterwards made to a successful foe, both in their
councils and in the field, amid the extremes of peril, personal danger,
and public misery.

General Prevost, encouraged by success, and animated by his own

personal bravery, united with the hope of subduing Charleston,
rejected the offer of neutrality, and all further negotiations ceased.
The city immediately recovered its former spirit, and preparation was
made on both sides for the most vigorous attack and defense.

General Lincoln had been rather slow in his movements, having been
deceived into an opinion that Prevost had no farther design in
crossing the River Savannah than to procure forage and provisions.
But soon finding more serious consequences were to be expected,
he hastened on with his whole force, and made his arrangements
with so much judgment and alacrity that General Prevost thought it
prudent to withdraw from before the city, lest his retreat be cut off. He
encamped his troops on the islands before the harbor, where he
continued for some time, in anxious expectation of reinforcements
from New York This being delayed until the advance of the intense
heats, and the sickly season of that country came on, which rendered
it in some measure necessary to suspend all vigorous operations in
that quarter, little else was done there this year, except the
indiscriminate plunder of the wealthy inhabitants of the state, who
were out of the reach of the protection of their friends.

Affairs in Georgia requiring his presence, General Prevost repaired

there soon after the siege of Charleston was raised. He left a force
sufficient in Port Royal to encourage his friends by keeping up the
appearance of some permanent establishment in that province,
where he meant soon to return. But early in the autumn, the
unexpected arrival of the squadron commanded by the Count de
Estaing, on the southern coast, gave the flattering promise of a new
face to the affairs of Georgia and the Carolinas.

The admiral, on his arrival in Savannah, landed his troops with all
possible expedition, and in conjunction with the Americans, laid siege
to the capital of Georgia. On September 16, he demanded a
surrender of the town to the arms of the King of France. The
summons was in language that rather excited terror than allurement,
and would have determined an officer of less courage an resolution
than General Prevost to defend the town to the last. The situation of
Savannah was indeed scarcely defensible; but resolved not to yield
but in the last extremity, Prevost returned a polite, but evasive answer
to the French commander; and had the address to obtain a truce of
24 hours to deliberate.

In this fortunate interval, the arrival of Colonel Maitland, with a body of

troops from Port Royal, put an end to deliberation. All thoughts of
surrender were laid aside and a most gallant defense made. The
town was bombarded for five days, to the great terror and distress of
the inhabitants. In this predicament General Prevost wrote and
requested the Count de Estaing that the women and children with his
own wife and family might be sent down the river and placed under
the protection of one of the French ships. After some delay, he had
the mortification to receive an impolite and cruel refusal.

As this answer was signed by both the French and American

commanders, censure for want to humanity fell equally on each. It is
not improbable the severe language it contained might be designed
to intimidate and hasten a surrender and thereby prevent the further
effusion of blood. Yet there appeared a want of generosity
unbecoming the politeness of the Frenchman and inconsistent with
the well- known humanity oft he American commander. of this they
seemed to be sensible within a few days, when fortune began to
change her face. Apologies were made both by General Lincoln and
the Count for this indelicate refusal. Great tenderness was therein
expressed for the inhabitants and every civility offered, particularly to
the General's lady and family, and a ship assigned as an asylum for
herself and friends. General Prevost replied to this offer of kindness,
extorted by apprehension if not by fear, that "what had been once
refused in terms of insult, could in no circumstances be deemed
worth the acceptance."

The little time gained by this short parley for the purposes of civility
was improved by General Prevost to great advantage in every view.
With indefatigable industry he strengthened his old works; and,
assisted by the spirit and capacity of Mr. Moncrief, the chief engineer,
he erected new ones with celerity and judgment, very honorable to
his military talents and consistent with his zeal and alacrity on all
occasions.

The arrival of an officer of Colonel Maitland's abilities, accompanies by

a considerable reinforcement, was indeed a very fortunate
circumstance at this period for the commander at Savannah
Stimulated by a recent affront, and urged on by a constitutional
activity and thirst of military applause, General Prevost seemed to
bid defiance to the combined forces of Franc and America, and
repulsed them in every quarter.

On October 11, the besiegers attempted to storm the town, but were
defeated with great slaughter. They, however, kept up the
appearance of a blockade until the 16th, when they requested a truce
to bury their dead, and take care of their wounded. This was readily
granted by Prevost. The conflict had been bloody indeed, and both
sides equally wished for time to perform this charitable and necessary
business. Soon after the melancholy work of interring many of their
comrades, the French and Americans took the advantage of a dark
and foggy night, and retreated with all possible precipitation, breaking
down the bridges as they passed, to impede the pursuit of their
enemies, if they should be disposed to follow them.

The Count of Estaing had now an opportunity to survey the condition

of his fleet, when he found the sailors sickly and dispirited, nor was
the army less so, from the unhealthiness of the climate, and the
failure of their late enterprise. The Count himself had been wounded
in the course of the siege, and several of his best officers were either
killed or wounded. The loss of very many of his men in this decided
repulse, with the disgrace that every commander thinks he incurs
when the expectation of success from great designs is defeated,
deeply affected the mind of the French commander. Thus
unfortunately disappointed in the spirited attack on the town of
Savannah, he found it necessary, forma combination of untoward
circumstances, to abandon the design of recovering George. In a
short time after this, the French commander bade adieu to the
American seas.

He had never been disgraced by any deficiency in military ability,

knowledge, or spirit, while acting in behalf of the United States. Yet a
series of disappointments had prevented his reaping the laurels, the
just reward of bravery, or rendering much service to his allies, who
had received him with the highest marks of cordiality and expectation.
[The count de Estaing was some years afterwards one of the
proscribed victims who fell by the guillotine, amid the distractions and
misery of his own country, in the infuriated reign of Robespierre.]

The summons of the Count de Estaing to the British commander to

surrender the capital of one of the states to the arms of his most
Christian Majesty as neither pleasing, prudent, or productive of
harmony and confidence between the French under his command
and the Americans. It occasioned some discontent at the time; and
perhaps some jealous Americans did not regret that the recovery of
Georgia was left to an officer of merit in their own corps, sent forward
afterwards by General Greene, who had been the favorite of fortune,
of the people, and of the commander in chief.

This was done at a period of complicated difficulties, when General

Greene could not leave the state of South Carolina himself, but in the
abilities of General Wayne he had the utmost confidence. The even
showed that this confidence was not misplaced. We shall see
hereafter General Wayne was sent on and had the honor of finished
the war in Georgia, and the pleasure of witnessing the evacuation of
the troops from their strongholds in that state, annihilating the last
remains of British authority there, and recovering again the youngest
of the sister states to their former union.

In the repulse before Savannah, many valorous officers fell. Among

this number was the Count Pulaski, a Polish nobleman of great
consideration. Hi bravery and enterprising spirit was celebrated not
only in America, but in his own country. He had once, amid the fierce
contests of the miserable Polanders, in the height of his zeal for the
recovery and support of the liberties of that nation, seized on the
person of the King of Poland, and for a time held him his prisoner;
and though he had with him only two or three, whom he deemed
trusty associates, one of them relented and betrayed him. The kind of
saved, and the Count obliged to fly. A few years after, he repaired to
America, where he found a field ample enough for the exercise of his
soldierly talents to cherish his love of freedom and to support the
military character of his ancestors and his family, many of whom
survived this heroic officer.

The Count Pulaski was not the only officer of his nation who
distinguished himself in the American war; but the Count Kosciusko,
for his firmness, his valor, and his sufferings, merits particular notice.
He was amiable and virtuous, as well as brave, and supported a
character that will seldom be passed over silence, in a history of
either Poland or America.

The Kingdom of Poland had for years exhibited a most striking

monument of human misery. Their struggles for liberty, the pride of
the nobles, the ignorance and barbarism of the peasantry, their
unstable confederacies, the usurpation of princes and the
interference of neighboring monarchs rendered it a scene of carnage
for several ages previous to the expulsion of Stanislaus Augustus,
their ruin as a nation, and the partition of their country among the
crowned despots that surrounded them. the sovereign of Poland was
dethroned; the kingdom partitioned among the trio combined for that
purpose: Frederick, Catherine, and Maria Theresa. Many of the
inhabitants were sent to plant colonies in the cold and distant regions
of Siberia, and other parts of the Russian domains. Some of the
nobility survived under the heavy yoke of their victorious neighbors;
others had fled, and lent their valorous arms to England, France, and
America.

This melancholy termination of efforts grounded in nature and reason,

fight for a time smother the spark of freedom implanted in very human
breast, which yet almost every man, when ascending the pedestal of
power endeavors to extinguish in the bosom of all but himself. But the
misfortunes of their country or their own personal sufferings could not
deaden the flame of liberty and independence that burnt in the
bosoms of many noble-minded Polanders. Though the distractions of
their native country obliged them to abandon it, their enthusiasm was
cherished amid strangers, and they lent their veteran abilities to aid
the emancipation of others from the degrading yoke of servitude.

The character of no one of this distinguished band became more

conspicuous than that of the Count Kosciusko, who survived the
fierce conflicts to which his bravery exposed him through the
revolutionary war in America. [see more of the Count Kosciusko in
Note 7 at the end of this chapter.] His subsequent transactions in his
native country, his valor, his misfortunes, and his renown are too well
known and

too replete with extraordinary events to record in this place.

While we admire the patriotism, bravery, and other virtues that

adorned the characters of some individuals among the heroes of that
ill-fated country, the deplorable situation of Poland should forever
stand as a memento to all other nations who claim or maintain any
degree of freedom. By their private animosities, jealousies and
dissensions, all confidence was destroyed and all patriotism
annihilated, except in the bosoms of a few, until their king was
dethroned, and nobility laid prostrate, the country drenched in blood,
and the people driven into banishment by thousands, and obliged to
wear out a miserable existence, under the authority of the arbitrary
sovereigns who had completed the ruin of their liberty, their
government, and their country.

The history of Poland is indeed an awful lesson to every republic

where the seeds of dissension begin to spring up among the people.
Those symptoms, when nurtured by faction, and strengthened by
jealousies among themselves, render the people an easy prey to
foreign invaders, and too generally terminate in a tragic catastrophe,
similar to that of the Poles; who no longer continued a distinct nation,
after the era which has stained the annals of Europe by the shameful
partition treaty preconcerted in the cabinets of Russia, Prussia, and
Germany, and announced by the joint declaration of their sovereigns,
in 1773.

The inhabitants of Poland were now the subjects and slaves of those
usurping princes, who had seized and divided the kingdom;
transplanted the inhabitants of the territory to distant regions, and
repeopled the depopulated country with the soldiers of Prussia,
Germany, and the northern potentates, who had long trained their
own subjects to bend in silence, under the yoke of servility.

The partition of Poland was a singular event in the history of Europe,

where the great powers, inattentive to the balance about which they
had for many years expressed so much solicitude, viewed this
extraordinary circumstance with little or no emotion. Whatever may
be the effect on the general state of Europe, it is yet uncertain
whether the Poles lost so much by the change as had been
apprehended.

It is difficult to say in what period of the history of Poland they had

proper claim to the honor of a free, republican form of government.
The people had long groaned under the unbridled oppression and
power of a proud domestic aristocracy. The absurd veto, designed as
a check, only increased their discontents, jealousies, rancor, and
confusion. They had indeed a nominal king, more the subject of a
foreign power than the sovereign of his own country. They are now
under the iron hand of foreign despotism. Whether that, or the
scourge of aristocracy is the most productive of vassalage and misery
is a problem yet undecided. We leave deeper politicians to determine
if they can which is the most abhorrent to the feelings of humanity.
But the discussion of the constitution of the Poles is not a part of the
business of the present work. Yet the ruin of Poland may be viewed as
an example and a warning to other nations, particularly to those who
enjoy a free, elective, representative government.

**********************

Note 7

The Count Kosciusko was a gentleman of family without the

advantages of high fortune. His education, person, and talents
recommended him tot he King of Poland, by whom he was patronized
and employed in a military line.
Early in life, he became attached to a lady of great beauty, belonging
to one of the first families in the kingdom. The inequality o fortune
prevented his obtaining consent from her parents to a union, though
the affections of the lady were equally strong with his own. The
lovers agreed on an elopement, and made an attempt to retire to
France; pursued and overtaken by the father of the lady, a fierce
rencounter ensued. When Kosciusko found he must either surrender
the object of his

affection or take the life of her parent, humanity prevailed over his
passion, he returned the sword to its scabbard, and generously
relinquished the beautiful daughter to her distressed father, rather
than become the murderer of the person who gave being to so much
elegance and beauty, now plunged in terror and despair from the
tumult of contending passions of the most soft and amiable nature.

This unfortunate termination of his hopes was one means of lending

this celebrated hero to the assistance of America. Wounded by the
disappointment, and his delicacy hurt by becoming the topic of
general conversation on an affair of gallantry, he obtained leave from
his sovereign to retire from Poland. He soon after repaired to
America, and offered himself a volunteer to General Washington, was
honorably appointed, and by his bravery and humanity rendered
essential services to the United States. After the peace took place
between Great Britain and America, he returned to his own distressed
country. [It was a question in a literary society afterwards in London
which was the greatest character, Lord Chatham, General
Washington, or Count Kosciusko.]

His sufferings and his bravery in his struggles to rescue his native
country from the usurpations of neighboring tyrants, until the ruin of
the Kingdom of Poland and the surrender of Warsaw are amply
detailed in European history. Wounded, imprisoned, and cruelly
used, his distresses were in some degree ameliorated by the
 compassion of a Russian lady, the wife of General Chra-cozazow,
who had been a prisoner and set at liberty by the Count. This lady
could not prevent his being sent to Petersburg, where he was
confined in a fortress near the city; but he surmounted imprisonment,
sickness, misery, and poverty, and afterwards revisited America,
where he was relieved and rewarded, as justice, honor, and gratitude
required.

_______________

Chapter Sixteen: Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arbuthnot sail for
South Carolina. Charleston invested. Capitulates. General Lincoln
and his army prisoners of war. General Clinton returns to New York.
Lord

Cornwallis's command and civil administration in Charleston. Mr.

Gadsden an other gentlemen suspected and sent to St. Augustine.
Much opposition to British authority in both the Carolinas. The Count
de Rochambeau and the Admiral de Tiernay arrived at Newport.
British depredations in the Jerseys. Catastrophe of Mr. Caldwell and
his family. Armed neutrality. Some observations on the state of
Ireland. Riots in England. Cursory observations.

From the unavoidable inactivity of the Americans in some parts of the

continent and the misfortunes that had attended their arms in others,
in the summer of 1779, Sir Henry Clinton was left without any
impediment to prosecute a well concerted expedition to the southern
colonies. The opulence of the planters there, the want of discipline in
their militia, the distance and difficulty of reinforcing them, and the
sickly state of the inhabitants, promised an easy conquest and a rich
harvest to the invaders.
The summer and autumn passed off; and it was late in the month of
December, before General Clinton embarked. He had a strong body
of troops and a forcible

squadron commanded by Admiral Arbuthnot, who accompanied him;

but they proceeded heavily on their way; and it was not until the
ensuing spring was far advanced that the Admiral passed the bar and
made himself master of the harbor of Charleston.

The Americans flattered themselves for some time that they should be
able to make an effectual resistance to the passage of the British fleet
up the Cooper River. (This passes on one side, and the Ashley runs
on the other of the town of Charleston.) But they soon abandoned
every ground to the potent English, except the town of Charleston,
which they determined to defend to the last extremity.

Governor Rutledge was vested by the legislature with very

extraordinary powers, which he was obliged to exercise in their full
altitude. This gentleman had acted on all occasions with spirit and
judgment becoming his character, both as a soldier and a magistrate.
He immediately called out the militia; and published a proclamation,
directing all the inhabitants who claimed any property in the town to
repair immediately to the American standard on pain of confiscation.
Though

couched in strong and severe terms, this proclamation had little

effect. The manifest reluctance of some to oppose the power of
Britain, the dread that others felt of so potent an adversary, the ill
success of the American arms in Georgia, the surprise of the cavalry
and other parties that were coming to their relief, the arrival of British
reinforcements, and the rapid advance they made to conquest,
appalled the inhabitants, and obliged the citizens soon to abandon all
hopes of even saving their town.
The first summons of surrender, on April 16, was rejected by the
American commander, though it announced the dreadful
consequences of a cannonade and storm, which would soon be the
unhappy fate of Charleston, "should the place, in fallacious security,
or the commander, in wanton indifference to the fate of the inhabitants
delay a surrender." General Lincoln replied that he had received a
joint summons of General Clinton and Admiral Arbuthnot; that "60
days had passed since it had been known that their intentions against
the town of Charleston were hostile; in which time had been afforded
to abandon it; but that duty and inclination pointed to him the
propriety of defending it to the last extremity."

After this decided answer, the most vigorous operations ensued on

both sides, but with great advantage in favor of the British, until May
8, when Sir Henry Clinton again called on the American commander
to prevent the farther effusion of blood by an immediate surrender.
He warned him that "if he refused this last summons, the should
throw on him the charge of whatever vindictive severity an
exasperated soldiery might inflict on the unhappy people; that he
should wait his answer until 8 o'clock, an hour beyond which,
resistance would be temerity."

General Lincoln summoned a council on this occasion, who were

unanimously of opinion that articles of capitulation should be
proposed. [This general view of the siege and surrender of
Charleston is principally collected from General Lincoln's defense and
apology in a letter to General Washington, which the author was
favored with the perusal of in manuscript by General Lincoln.] The
terms offered were several of them rejected. Others were mutilated.
And all relaxation or qualification being refused by the British
commander, it was as unanimously agreed that hostilities should
again recommence on the ensuing day. Accordingly, an incessant fire
was kept up from the 9th to the 11th, when an address from the
principal inhabitants of the town and a number of the country militia
expressed their satisfaction in the terms already offered y General
Clinton. At the same time, the lieutenant governor and council
requested that negotiations might be renewed and that they might not
be subjected to the horrors of a city taken by storm.

The militia of the town had thrown away their arms. The troops on the
lines were worn down with fatigue, and their provisions exhausted.
Thus closely invested on every side, a disaffected, factious party
within, no hopes of succor from without an all possibility of retreat cut
off, General Lincoln again offered terms of surrender, little variant
from Clinton's proposals. They were acceded to, and signed May 12.

Though the conditions were not the most favorable to the inhabitants,
or honorary to the soldier, yet perhaps they were as lenient as could
be expected from an enemy confident of success, and as honorable
as could be hoped, in the desperate situation to which the Americans
were reduced. The continental troops were to retain their baggage,
but to remain prisoners of war until exchanged. Seven general
officers were among the prisoners. The inhabitants of all conditions
were to be considered as prisoners on parole; but they soon
experienced the severities usually felt by a conquered city. All who
were capable of bearing arms were enrolled in the British service;
and the whole state laid under heavy contributions.

The loss of Charleston, the great number of the captured, and the
shipping that fell in its defense was a severe blow to America. Much
censure was cat on General Lincoln for neglecting a timely retreat,
and for attempting the defense of the town against such superior
force, both by sea and land. But it must be acknowledged he did all
that could be expected from an officer of courage to save the capital
and the state; or from a man of humanity to make the best possible
terms for the inhabitants. He afterwards justified the measure by a full
detail of the invasion, and the motives for his conduct tot he
satisfaction of the commander in chief and of his

country.
General Lincoln certainly had great merit, in many respects; yet it may
be observed, few officers have been equally fortunate in keeping up
the eclat of character, who have so frequently failed in enterprise. For,
however unjust it may be, yet military fame more generally depends
on successful events than on bold design or judicious system.
Victory had seldom followed in the rear of any of his exploits; yet from
his known bravery and patriotism, from his acknowledged integrity and
honor, he escaped the censure frequently attached to unfortunate
heroes, and which might have fallen heavily on a general of more
doubtful character.

Before Sir Henry Clinton left Charleston, some new and severe
regulations took place that could not well be justified either by the
letter of the spirit of the capitulation. All persons in the city were
forbidden the exercise of their commercial pursuits, excepting such
as were decided friends of the British government. Confiscation and
death were threatened by proclamation to any who should be found in
arms, unless in support of royal authority. All capable of bearing arms
enrolled for British service. Such as had families were permitted to
continue near them and defend the state against their American
brethren. Those who had none were required to serve six months out
of twelve in any part of the southern states.

Many inhabitants of the principal towns and indeed a great part of the
state of South Carolina, despairing of any effectual resistance and
unwilling to abandon their connections and their property laid down
their arms and submitted either as prisoners of war, or subject to the
King of Great Britain. And even congratulatory addresses were
fabricated and signed by great numbers of respectable characters in
Charleston and offered to the British commanders on the success of
their arms. Thus from motives of interest or fear, many who had
appeared to be actuated by higher principles stooped to the servile
homage of the sycophant, and flattered the victors on the conquest of
their country; an acquisition that reduced their countrymen to beggary
and themselves to slavery.
Soon after these arrangements, Sir Henry Clinton vainly flattering
himself that he had entirely subdued one wealthy colony at the
extremity of the continent, and that everything was in a hopeful train
for other brilliant strokes of military prowess, left the command of the
southern department to Lord Cornwallis and repaired himself to New
York. His Lordship immediately detached a strong body under the
command of Lord Rawdon to march, to subjugate, and guard the
frontiers, while he turned his own attention to the commercial
regulations and the civil government of the newly conquered
province. But he soon found the aid of auxiliaries, impelled by fear or
stimulated by the hope of present advantage is not to be depended on
and that voluntary compacts are the only social ties considered
among mankind as binding on the conscience.

On the first opportunity, many persons exchanged their paroles for

certificates of their being good subjects and immediately returned to
the country or to the neighboring state, and stimulated their friends to
resistance. A remarkable instance of this nature was exhibited in the
conduct of Colonel Lisle, a brave American officer; who, after an
exchange of the parole, decamped from the British standard, and
carried off with him a whole battalion to the aid of Colonel Sumpter,
and other spirited officers, who were in motion on the borders of both
the Carolinas.

The new regulations and the hard conditions enjoined on them by the
conqueror were highly resented by many of the principal inhabitants
of Charles ton. Their dissatisfaction as so apparent that they soon
fell under the suspicion and displeasure of the commander. Some
allegations were brought against them, though far from being
sufficiently founded. they were charged with treasonable practices
and designs against government; arrested in their beds, sent on
board prison ships, confined and treated with great rigor, and in a
short time sent off to St. Augustine. Among this number was
Lieutenant Governor Gadsden, a gentleman early distinguished for
his patriotism, his firmness, his republican principles, and his uniform
exertions to emancipate his country from the shackles of British
government.

Nothing appeared to justify the severities exercised toward these

gentlemen; nor was there any reason to believe they had forfeited
their honor. The rigorous policy of a conquering foe was all that was
offered in vindication of this step. But it is certain the Carolinians in
general evinced the difficulty of holding men by political fetters, while
the mind revolts at the authority that has no claim but what arises from
the laws of conquest.

Lord Rawdon was extremely active on the frontiers. No exertion was

wanting on the part of this valiant officer to bring the whole country to
a united submission to royal authority; and a diversion was made in
the Chesapeake, under the command of General Leslie in favor of
the operations in the Carolinas. Yet within two months after the
surrender of Charleston, opposition to British government again
resumed a stable appearance.

Marches, counter-marches, surprise, pillage, and massacre had for

some months pervaded the frontiers; and whichever party gained the
advantage, the inhabitants were equally wretched. But a particular
detail of the miseries of the southern states through this period would
be more painful than entertaining to the reader, and is a task from
which every writer of humanity would wish to be excused. Imagination
may easily paint the distresses when surveying on the one side a
proud and potent army flushed with recent success and irritated by
opposition from an enemy they despised both as Americans and as
rebels. Their spirit of revenge continually whetted by a body of
refugees who followed them, embittered beyond description against
their countrymen, and who were joined by a banditti who had no
country, but the spot that yielded a temporary harvest to their
rapacious hands: rapine and devastation had no check.

On the other side, little less severity could be expected from a brave
and high-spirited people not softened by the highest refinements of
civilization, warmed by the impulse of retaliation, driven almost to
despair and under every painful apprehension for their lies, their
property, their liberty and their country. These were joined by the
soldiers of fortune and the fierce borderers who had not yet been
taught to yield quietly either to military or civil subordination. The most
striking outrages were everywhere committed. But no partisan
distinguished himself more on either side than a Colonel Tarleton,
who made himself a character in the ravage of the Carolinas, equally
conspicuous for bravery and barbarity; and had the effrontery
afterwards in England to boast in the presence of a lady of
respectability that he had killed more men and ravished more women
than an man in America. [This was so highly resented by the lady,
who had before been his friend, that by her influence, she defeated
his hopes as a candidate for a member of Parliament.]

But not the loss of their capital, the ravage of their country, the
proscription of some of the principal inhabitants, and the total ruin of
some of the wealthiest families could subdue the spirit of
independence and the aversion to British government that had taken
deep root in the bosoms of most of the inhabitants of the southern
states.

Sumpter, Morgan, Marion, Lee, Caswell, Rutherford, and other brave

officers, continually counteracted the intrigues of the loyalists; and
attacked, harassed, and

frequently defeated the British parties that were detached to the

various parts of the country to enforce submission. Nor did the
repulse in Georgia, the loss of Charleston, nor the armament sent to
the Chesapeake by Sir Henry Clinton in favor of Cornwallis's
movements, in the smallest degree check the vigorous efforts of
these spirited leaders, by whose assistance a new face to the affairs
of their country was soon restored.

France had this year given new proof of her zeal in favor of American
independence. The Count de Rochambeau arrived on July 11 at
Newport, with 6000 land forces, under cover of a respectable
squadron commanded by the Admiral de Tiernay. They brought the
promise and the expectation of farther and immediate support, both
by land and sea. Some ineffectual movements were made on both
sides, in consequence of these expectations; and on the arrival of
Admiral Graves at New York, with six sail of the line and some
transports, a feint was made by Sir Henry Clinton, with the assistance
of those fresh reinforcements immediately to attack the French at
Rhode Island. This plan was diverted by General Washington's
preparation to embrace the favorable opportunity to strike a decided
blow by the reduction of New York.

All the states east of the Delaware discovered their readiness by all
possible exertions to cooperate in the deluge; but amid all the
preparation and sanguine hope of the Americans, an account was
received, equally mortifying to the United States and to their allies
already in America, that Admiral de Guichen had sailed from the West
Indies directly for France, instead of repairing with all his forces as
was expected to aid the united operations of Washington and
Rochambeau. The Admiral de Tiernay died soon after at Newport. It
was thought by many that his brave officer fell a sacrifice to chagrin
and disappointment.

After the failure of these brilliant hopes, little more was done through
the summer in the middle and eastern department, except by
skirmishing parties which served only to keep up the hope of
conquest on the side of Britain, while it preserved alive some military
ardor in the American army. But so uncertain are the events of war
that the anticipation of success, the pride of victory, or the anguish of
disappointment, alternately play on the passions of men, until the
convulsion gives place to tranquility and peace or to the still solemnity
of melancholy, robbed of all its joys.

General Washington found himself at this time unable to do much

more than to guard against the uncertain inroads of a powerful fleet
and a hostile army. It could not be congenial to the feelings of the
military character, endowed with a spirit of enterprise, to be placed in
a situation merely defensive, while too many circumstances forbade
any concentrated plan that promised any decision of the important
object for which the United States were struggling.

While thus situated, the British troops were frequently detached from
New York and Staten Island to make inroads and by surprise to
distress and destroy the settlements in the Jerseys. The most
important of their movements was about June 25, when General
Knyphausen with about 5000 regular troops, aided by some new
levies, advanced upon the right wing of the American army,
commanded by Major General Greene. Their progress was slow until
they arrived at Springfield, where they were checked by a party of the
Americans.

They had yet done little mischief on their march, but at Springfield
they burnt most of the houses in the town, and retired from thence to
Elizabethtown. After some time, they advanced from Elizabethtown
with the whole of their infantry, a large body of cavalry, and 15 or 20
pieces of artillery. Their march was then rapid and compact. They
moved in two columns, one on the main road leading to Springfield,
the other on the Vauxhall road. Major Lee with the horse and pickets
opposed the right column, and Colonel Dayton with his regiment the
left; and both gave as much opposition as could have been expected
from so small a force.

General Greene observed in a letter to Congress that the American

troops were so extended to guard the different roads leading to the
several passes over the mountains that he had scarcely time to
collect them at Springfield and make the necessary dispositions,
previous to the appearance of the enemy before the town; when a
cannonade commenced between their advance and the American
artillery, posted
for the defense of the bridge.

Every prudent measure was taken by General Greene to confront and

repel the invaders, protect the inhabitants and secure the retreat of
his own parties when danger appeared from superior numbers. The
Generals Maxwell and Dickenson, the Colonels Shrieve, Ogden, and
others, at the head of their regiments, exhibited the highest
specimens of American bravery; but the enemy continued to press on
in great force. Their left column began an attack on Colonel Angell,
who was posted to secure a bridge in front of the town. "The action
was severe and lasted about 40 minutes; when superior numbers
overcame obstinate bravery" and forced the American troops to retire
over the second bridge.

After various military maneuvers, skirmishes and retreats, General

Greene took post on a ridge of hills from whence he detached parties
to prevent the burning so the enemy, who spread conflagration
wherever it was in their power, and retreated towards Elizabethtown.
This detachment from the British army finished their marauding
excursion and recrossed to Staten Island July 23.

The outrage of innocence in instances too numerous to be recorded,

of the wanton barbarity of the soldiers of the King of England, as they
patrolled the defenseless villages of America, was evinced nowhere
more remarkably than in the burnings and massacres that marked the
footsteps of the British troops, was they from time to time ravaged the
state of New Jersey.

In their late excursion, they had trod their deleterious path through a
part of the country called Connecticut Farms. It is needless to
particularize many instances of their wanton rage, and unprovoked
devastation, in and near Elizabethtown. The places dedicated to
public worship did not escape their fury. These they destroyed more
from licentious folly than any religious frenzy or bigotry, to which their
nation had at times been liable. Yet through the barbarous
transactions of this summer, nothing excited more general
resentment and compassion than the murder of the amiable and
virtuous wife of a Presbyterian clergyman, attended with too many
circumstances of grief on the one side and barbarism on the other, to
pass over in silence.

This lady was sitting in her own house, with her little domestic circle
around her, and her infant in her arms; unapprehensive of danger,
shrouded by the consciousness of her own innocence and virtue;
when a British barbarian pointed his musket into the window of her
room, and instantly shot her through the lungs. A hole was dug, the
body thrown in, and the house of this excellent lady set on fire, and
consumed with all the property it contained.

Mr. Caldwell, her affectionate husband, was absent. Nothing had ever
been alleged against his character, even by his enemies, but his zeal
for the rights and his attachment to his native country. For this he
had been persecuted, and for this he was robbed of all that he held
dear in life, by the bloody hands of men, in whose benevolence and
politeness he had had much confidence, until the fated day when this
mistaken opinion led him to leave his beloved family, fearless of
danger and certain of their security from their innocence, virtue, and
unoffending amiability.

Mr. Caldwell afterwards published the proofs of this cruel affair,

attested on oath before magistrates, by sundry persons who were in
the house with Mrs. Caldwell and saw her fall back and expire,
immediately after the report of the gun. "This was," as observed Mr.
Caldwell, "a violation of every tender feeling; without provocation,
deliberately committed in open day; nor was it ever frowned on by the
commander." The catastrophe of this unhappy family was completed
within two years by the murder of Mr. Caldwell himself by some
ruffian hands.
His conscious integrity of heart had never suffered him to apprehend
any personal danger, and the melancholy that pervaded all on the
tragical death of his lady, who was distinguished for the excellence
and respectability of her character, wrought up the resentment of that
part of the country to so high a pitch that the most timid were aroused
to deeds of desperate heroism. They were ready to swear like
Hannibal against the Romans, and to bind their sons to the oath of
everlasting enmity to the name of Britain.

But we shall see too many circumstances of similar barbarity and

ferocious cruelty to leave curiosity ungratified or to suffer the tear of
pity to dry on the sympathetic cheek as we follow the route of the
British army. Agitation and anxiety pervaded the eastern states, while
rapine and slaughter were spread over the middle colonies. Hope
was suspended in every mind; and expectation seemed to hang on
the consequences of the strong effort made to subdue the southern
provinces.

The present year was replete with the most active and important
scenes, both in Europe and America. We leave the latter to wait the
operation of events and turn our eyes toward Great Britain, whose
situation was not less perplexed and embarrassed than that of the
United States. The sources of concern which pervaded the patriotic
part of the nation were innumerable. A remarkable combination of
powers against the British nation was unusually alarming. Spain had
now declared war and acted with decision; and many new and great
events among other nations threatened both the maritime and
internal state of Great Britain, with checks to their pride and power
which they had not before experienced.

The despot of Russia, with haughty superiority, appeared at this time,

umpire of the Armed Neutrality, set on foot by herself. [Before this
period, the wealth and inhabitants of the Turkish empire had been
diminished and the power of the Sublime Porte so far crippled by the
ambitious projects of Catherine that they were unable to lend much
assistance to any of their distressed neighbors. For some time after
the remarkable partition of Poland, the hero of Prussia, the Germanic
body,

and the northern powers breathed in a kind of truce, as if paralyzed by

the recollection of recent slaughter and devastation rather than in the
benign prospect of a permanent peace.] The novelty of this measure
excited much observation, attention, and expectation, both in Europe
and America. Some writers have robbed the Empress of the honor of
originating this humane project, which was thought to be leveled at
the imperious sway and the insolent aggression of the British flag,
which had long been vexatious to all the nations.

This measure has been attributed to a stroke of policy concerted by

Count Panin, in order to defeat the design of Sir James Harris,
minister from Great Britain, who had been making every effort in favor
of his court to engage the Empress to fit out a naval armament
against Spain. Prince Potemkin, the Empress's favorite, was fond of
the measure of assisting the court of Spain. But the determined
opposition of the Count Panin, against the interference of the Court of
Russia in the war between Great Britain and the House of Bourbon,
in conjunction with the American colonies, was such that the design
was not only defeated, but the Court of Petersburg took the lead in a
declaration to the belligerent powers, for settling the principles of
navigation and trade; and the armament in preparation for other
purposes, as sent out to support the armed neutrality. [See History of
the Armed Neutrality by a German nobleman. A more recent work
has attributed the origin of this benevolent system to the policy of the
Count de Vergennes and has asserted that it was a plan of his won to
counteract the operations of the British Court against France, by this
check to the power of their navy. But from the character of the Count
de Vergennes, as drawn by an American minister, his abilities were
not equal to the comprehensive system. HE observed that
"notwithstanding the gazettes of Europe had been filled with pompous
panegyrics of this minister and sublime ideas of his power and credit
as well as his abilities, it was but mere puff and bubble And that
notwithstanding his long experience in courts, he was by no means a
great minister; that he had neither the extensive knowledge, nor the
foresight, nor the

wisdom, nor the virtue, nor the temper of a great man."

But such was the commanding genius of Catherine, and her

predominant passion for the extension of her fame that those who
have studied her character will not deny her the capacity, nor the
honor of originating this humane and novel system. She was a
woman in whom were united the most splendid talents, a magnificent
taste, an unconquerable mind, the most beneficent virtues, and the
most detestable crimes. But whoever was the prime mover of a
system so benevolent, the idea was the greatest that ever entered
into the head of a prince, since the days of Henry IV of France.
[Everyone acquainted with the history of France will recollect the
benevolent design formed by Henry IV and his sagacious minister,
the Duke of Sully, to put an end to the waste of human life by war, by
a combination, great, extensive, and more humane than generally
falls under the contemplation of princes. Hi design to settle the
contests of nations by amicable treaty was defeated by the hand of
the assassin, which deprived him of life.] The design was glorious, as
it might in time be so far improved as to put a period to a great part of
the distress brought on the trade of nations by the ambition, interest,
and proud usurpation of some maritime powers.

The empress forwarded an explicit declaration of the design and the

nature of the combination to the several European courts. By this
extraordinary treaty, all neutral ships were to be freely navigated from
port to port on the coasts of nations at war, and the effects belonging
to the subject of any sovereign were to be safe in all neutral vessels,
except contraband merchandise. Thus the seas were to be left in the
situation designed by God and nature, that all mankind might reap the
benefits of a free and open intercourse with each other.
Several other article, humane, just, and favorable to trade, were
stipulated. Their security was guaranteed by a powerful fleet,
directed by a despotic female; while the neighboring sovereigns,
awed by her prowess, strength, and stern authority, aided her
measures.

Though this was a very unpleasant proposition to the Court of Great

Britain, it was acceded to with alacrity by the northern powers, and by
most of the other courts of Europe. Thus Sweden, Denmark, and
Portugal united with the potent court of Petersburg to guard and
protect the trade of nations, while war raged among so many of them.

This capital measure was equally pleasing to France, Spain, and

America; but to Great Britain it was a grievance of magnitude; and
what greatly enhanced their mortification, it had originated with a
sovereign whom they considered as a friend and an ally; one to
whom they looked forward as a powerful assistant, if the exigencies
of war should oblige them to seek the further aid of foreigners But as
a writer observed, "the solitary Court of London was obliged to
suppress her indignation." Neither her resentment, chagrin, or
address could prevent a measure which Great Britain considered as
particularly injurious to herself.

The British minister expostulated warmly with the Court of Petersburg

on the constant attention and regard hitherto shown on every
occasion to the flag and

commerce of Russia by Great Britain. He declared there was a

continuance of the same disposition and conduct in his court, and
reminded the Empress of the reciprocal ties of friendship, and the
commercial interests by which the two nations were mutually bound.

The confederacy too formidable for opposition in their present

situation, an equivocal, rather than an explicit reply to the declaration
of the Empress, was sent by the Court of Great Britain to the British
envoy resident at Petersburg, dated April 23, 1778.

While this indecisive mode of conduct was observed by the Court of

Great Britain, the other European powers had not only readily agreed
to the proposition for an armed neutrality, but appeared generally
predisposed to a friendly intercourse with America, if not
unequivocally to support her claim to independence.

A general state of danger from foreign combinations seemed to

threaten the Empire of Great Britain with a convulsion in almost all its
parts; at the same time, discontent and dissatisfaction, particularly in
Ireland, seemed to be on the point of rising to an alarming height, and
fast approaching to a crisis.

It was observed by one of their own writers that "it was not to be
expected that a country dependent on Great Britain and much limited
in the use of its natural advantages should not be affected by the
causes and consequences of the American war. The sagacious in
that kingdom could not avoid perceiving in the present combination of
circumstances an advantage which was to be now improved or given
up forever."

There now appeared a remarkable revolution in the temper of the

people of Ireland that discovered strong symptoms of their weariness
of their subordinate and depressed situation. These were doubtless
quickened and brought into action, by the struggle of the Americans
for independence. Early in the opposition of the united colonies to
parliamentary measures, Congress had forwarded a friendly address
to the inhabitants of Ireland. In this they had observed that "the
ministry had for ten years endeavored by fraud and violence to
deprive them of rights which they had for many years enjoyed"; that
"at the conclusion of the last war, the genius of England and the spirit
of wisdom, as if offended at the ungrateful treatment of their sons,
withdrew from the British councils, and left that nation a prey to a race
of ministers, with whom ancient English honesty and benevolence
disdained to dwell. From that period, jealousy, discontent, oppression,
and discord have raged among all His Majesty's subjects, and filled
every part of his dominions with distress and complaint."

In this address to the inhabitants of Ireland, the American delegates

had recapitulated their several grievances, which had driven them to
opposition and a suspension of all commerce with Great Britain,
Ireland, and the English West India islands. After observing that they
hoped from this peaceable mode of opposition to obtain relief, they
made a friendly apology to the Irish for including them in this
restriction, assuring them "that it was with the utmost reluctance we
could prevail upon ourselves to cease our commercial connections
with your island. Your parliament had done us no wrong. You had
ever been friendly to the rights of mankind; and we acknowledge with
pleasure and with gratitude that your nation has produced patriots
who have nobly distinguished themselves in the cause of humanity
and America.

"On the other hand, we were not ignorant that the labors and
manufactures of Ireland, like those of the silk worm, were of little
moment to herself, but served on y to give luxury to those who neither
toil nor spin. We perceived that if we continued our commerce with
you, our agreement not to import from Britain would be fruitless; and
were therefore compelled to adopt a measure to which nothing but
absolute necessity could have reconciled us. It gave us, however,
some consolation to reflect that should it occasion much distress, the
fertile regions of America would afford you a safe asylum from
poverty and in time from oppression also; an asylum in which many
thousands of your countrymen have found hospitality, peace, and
affluence, and become united to us by all the ties of consanguinity,
mutual interest, and affection." [See Note 8 at the end of this chapter.]

"We offer our most grateful acknowledgments for the friendly

disposition you have always shown towards us. We know that you
are not without your grievances. We sympathize with you in your
distress; and are pleased to find that the design of subjugating us has
persuaded administration to dispense to Ireland some vagrant rays of
ministerial sunshine. Even the tender mercies of government have
long been cruel towards you. In the rich pastures of Ireland, many
hungry parricides have fed and grown strong to labor in its
destruction. We hope the patient abiding of the meek may not always
be forgotten; and God grant that the iniquitous schemes of extirpating
liberty from the British Empire may be soon defeated!

"But we should be wanting to ourselves; we should be perfidious to

posterity; we should be unworthy that ancestry from which we derive
our descent, should we submit with folded arms to military butchery
and depredation, to gratify the lordly ambition or sate the avarice of a
British ministry. In defense of our persons and properties, under
actual violation, we have taken up arms. When that violation shall be
removed and hostilities cease on the part of the aggressors, they
shall cease on our part also. For the achievement of this happy
event, we confide in the good offices of our fellow subjects beyond
the Atlantic. Of their friendly disposition we do not yet despond,
aware, as they must be, that they have nothing more to expect from
the same common enemy than the humble favor of being last
devoured."

This energetic address to the Irish may be seen in almost every public
record of the transactions of Congress in 1775. This, with other
addresses of the same determined body of men, to the inhabitants of
England, of Canada, of the United States, comprise an epitome of the
grievances complained of by Americans, of the existing opinions, and
the cause of the colonies taking arms against the parent state.

The similarity of sufferings which the Irish had long felt, oppressions
which had often driven them to the point of despair, a project of
successful resistance by the colonies to the overbearing measures of
the British Crown and Parliament awakened in them a dawn of hope
that relief might result from union and concert among themselves,
sufficient to check the present and to prevent still greater burdens
from the usurpations of power often exercised against them, without
equity or humanity.

The rising ferment in the Irish nation was justly alarming to the Court
of Britain. This, with the weight of foreign combinations which
pressed on them, awakened apprehensions in the highest degree, in
the minds of the sober and judicious, who had the welfare of the
nation at heart. In addition to their concern from these causes, their
differences of opinion with regard to their own internal affairs, on
almost every subject, increased. This disunion of sentiment
appeared in the vast number of petitions laid on the table of the
House of Commons from the most respectable counties; not less
than 40 at once. These brought on much debate and altercation that
promised much reform and produced little.

The enormous influence of the Crown, the abuse of contracts, the

corruption in all departments were discussed, and the American war
again reprobated. The waste of human life, and the treasures of the
nation were pathetically lamented in the course of parliamentary
debate; and this absurd and fruitless war criminated in strong
language.

The strength of party was tried to its utmost on a variety of subjects.

The increasing and dangerous influence of the Crown was
particularly dwelt upon. On this, a member of the House [Sir Thomas
Pitt] observed that nothing more strongly evinced its existence than
the minister's keeping his place "after so many years of loss,
misfortune, and calamity, as had already marked the fatal course of
his administration." He asked "whether that noble lord had not lost
America? whether he had not squandered many millions of the public
money and wasted rivers of blood of the subjects of Great Britain?
And yet, though the whole country, with one voice, cried out against
him, and execrated his American war, the noble lord still held his
place. Could this possibly be ascribed to any other cause than to the
overgrown influence of the Crown, along with that daring exertion of it
which sets the voice and the interests of other people at naught?"

He observed that the present minister by his measures "had sunk and
degraded the honor of Great Britain. The name of an Englishman
was now no longer a matter to be proud of. The time had been when
it was the envy of all the world. It had been the introduction to
universal respect. But the noble lord had contrived to sink it almost
beneath contempt. He had rendered his countrymen, and their
country, despicable in the eyes of every other person."

This session of Parliament continued desultory, angry, agitated, and

inconclusive, until towards the close, when all eyes were opened to
immediate danger by the distracted and incoherent conduct of Lord
George Gordon, at the head of the London Associators, who had
combined expressly to defend the Protestant religion. They had taken
the alarm from a motion made by Sir George Saville, deemed too
favorable to the Roman Catholic religion, though received with
universal applause in the House of Commons.

It is observable that the pretext of religion had often rent in sunder the
bands of union, and interrupted the peace of the English nation, from
the conquest to the present day. Nor had persecution ever been
pushed with a more severe hand in any part of the world, than among
these islanders, all of whom professed themselves Christians, though
divided by a variety of denominations. The popish religion had been
particularly inhibited from the days of the Stuarts; but a many of the
nobility still adhered to the Catholic faith, a degree of liberality and
toleration was indulged, and religious distinctions, if not annihilated,
had generally lain dormant among a people highly improved in
politeness and erudition. Yet the same spirit of bigotry was concealed
in the bosoms of many, which wanted only the contact of a torch to
emblazon into the flames of persecuting fury.
This the present moment presented; and no animosities of this nature
had for many years arisen to such a height of riot, confusion, tumult,
and danger as raged in the city of London in consequence of an act
recently passed entitled "an act for relieving His Majesty's subjects
professing the popish religion from certain penalties and disabilities
imposed on them by an act made in the 11th and 12th years of the
reign of King William III." The zealous opposition in Scotland to any
relaxation of the penal laws against the Papists, seems to have
originate the Protestant association in England.

Though not immediately connected with American affairs, it may not

be improper before we conclude this chapter to notice that no heat of
opposition among the insurgents of the colonies, as they were
termed, ever arose to such an atrocious height as the mobs in
London is the face of the Parliament of England and under the eye of
their sovereign.

The restless and turbulent spirit and conduct of Lord George Gordon
gave rise to the notorious outrages committed in and about London in
the month of June 1778. Enthusiastically bitter against the
indulgence of the Roman Catholic religion, he carried his designs and
temper so far as to spread the same intolerant spirit through a large
body of his adherents. 50,000 or 60,000 persons assembled in St.
George's Fields under the appellation of the Protestant Associators,
distinguished by blue cockades in their hats, a badge which they
endeavored to affix to many well-meaning persons whom they
compelled to move in their train. The passions of the made

multitude inflamed by various artifices, they paraded the city for

several days and set fire to many elegant buildings, among which
Lord Mansfield's house, furniture, library, and many valuable
manuscripts were destroyed.

Lord George Saville's house in Leicester Fields fell under the

resentment and fury of the rioters, professedly for his preparing and
bringing a bill into Parliament in favor of the Catholics. the bishop of
Lincoln and several other dignified clergymen felt the effects of their
ruffian and licentious hands. they were insulted, abused, and treated
with the utmost rudeness and indignity. In short, plunder, rapine,
anarchy, murder, and conflagration spread in every quarter of the
city. The prisoners were released and the jails set on fire. Newgate,
King's Bench, the Fleet Prison, and other public buildings destroyed.
Neither the civil authority, the remonstrances of the moderate, nor the
terror of the military were able to quell the rioters or disperse the
rabble under four or five days that the city blazed in so many different
and conspicuous parts, as to threaten the conflagration of that noble
capital.

As soon as a degree of quiet was restored by a dispersion of the

inflamed multitude, Lord George Gordon was taken into custody and
committed to the Tower. After six or seven months confinement, he
was tried. But as there appeared a derangement of his intellectual
faculties, bordering on insanity, he was acquitted and set at liberty.

It is no singular circumstance that a zeal for religion or rather a

particular mode of worship should disgrace the Christian system by
the wild fanaticism of its real or pretended votaries. It has been
observed that this was the pretext for the licentious conduct of the
London Associators. their cry was religion. Forgetful among the most
ferocious deeds of cruelty that the religion they ostensibly pretended
to defend was interwoven with the most rational morality and the
most fervent piety.

The same illiberal spirit of superstition and bigotry has been the
pretext for establishing inquisitions, for Smithfield firs, for massacres,
wars, and rivers of human blood poured out on the earth, which
groans beneath the complicated crimes of man. Thus, mistaken
ideas of religion have often led the multitude to deeds of cruelty and
madness, enkindled the fury of the assassin to murder the monarch
amid his guards or the hapless maid in her devotional closet. The
ignorant, the artful, or the illiberal children of men have often brought
forward the sacred name of religion to sanction the grossest
absurdities, to justify the most cruel persecutions, and to violate every
principles of reason and virtue in the human mind.

It is a melancholy truth that the Christian world too generally forgets

that the mild spirit of the gospel dictates candor and forgiveness
towards those who are dissentient in opinion. The example of the
good Samaritan was recorded to impress the cultivation of the
benevolent affections towards all mankind, without restriction to
neighbor or to country. And the sword of Peter was ordered into its
scabbard by the founder of that code of rational and just sentiment,
productive of order and peace in the present stage of weakness and
error.

The mild virtues of charity and brotherly kindness are the

distinguishing characteristics of this benign religion. Yet it is not less
humiliating than wonderful when we calmly reflect that mankind have
seemed to delight in the destruction of their fellow beings, from the
earliest records of time to the present struggles of America, to
maintain their rights at the point of the sword, against a nation long
inured to the carnage of their own species.

This has been evinced not only in the oppression of Great Britain over
their own colonies and the civil convulsions on their own island, but
from the havoc made by their enormous naval armaments, which
have crimsoned the ocean with human blood, carried death to their
antipodes and desolation around the globe.

To the universal regret of the most benevolent part of mankind, they

have witnessed that the nabobs of India have been reduced to
slavery and the innocent inhabitants of the eastern world involved in
famine, poverty, and every species of misery, notwithstanding the
immense resources of the most luxuriant and fertile country on earth,
by the innovating, ambitious and insolent spirit of a nation, assuming
the jurisdiction of the seas and aiming at universal domination.

The black catalogue of cruelties permitted by the English government

and executed by their myrmidons in the east, against the innocent
natives of India, will leave a stain on the character of the British
nation until the memory of their deeds shall be blotted from every
historic page. Nor was the system of conquest there relaxed in the
smallest degree. While the Ganges and the Indus were reddened with
the blood and covered with the slaughtered bodies of men, their
armies in the west were endeavoring to reduce their former colonies
to the same state of slavery and misery with the inhabitants of that
distant region.

The attempted extermination of many of the primitive inhabitants, and

the waste of human life through all Industan and other parts of the
eastern world, by the destroying sword of Britain are recollections too
shocking for the humane and benevolent mind to dwell on. Too
melancholy a picture is exhibited when the eye of compassion is
turned towards that ill-fated country. It must in tears behold the
zemidars and the nabobs in chains, their princes and princesses in
every age immersed in poverty, stripped of their connections,
captured by the English and dying in despair without the cold solace
of pity from their foes. All the ancient, well-informed, and ingenious
inhabitant of that rich, populous, and favored spot of creation,
involved in one common ruin, exhibit the most striking and affecting
view of the cruelties of man and the vicissitudes of human affairs that
modern history presents.

These last observations indeed may not appear to be connected with

the design of the present work. Nor have the cruelties which have
been exhibited in the East Indies by the arms of Great Britain arisen
from a spirit of religious intolerance. It may, however, be observed,
when the mind has for a moment left the more sublunary pursuits of
man, an adverted to the sacred theme of religion, that nothing can be
a more insurmountable bar to the propagation of truth, either in the
east, the west, or in the dark regions of African or Asiatic slavery, than
the cruelties perpetrated by men who profess a system of ethics more
sublime than that of Zoroaster, morals more refined than taught by
Socrates, and a religion pure and simple, inculcating the most benign
dispositions, forbidding all injuries to the weakest of its fellow beings.
Observations on the moral conduct of man, on religious opinion or
persecutions and the motives by which mankind are actuated in their
various pursuits will not be censured when occasionally introduced.
They are more congenial to the taste, inclination, and sex of the writer
than a detail of the rough and terrific scenes of war. Nor will a serious
or philosophic mind be displeased with such an interlude, which may
serve as a temporary resting post to the weary traveler who has
trodden over the field of carnage, until the soul is sickened by a view
of the absurdity and cruelty of his own species.

These reflections may justify a short digression that only means to hint
at the happy consequences that might result if a nation which extends
its power and carries its arms to the extremities of the globe would
transmit with them that mildness of manners, that justice, humanity,
and rectitude of character that would draw the inhabitants of the
darker regions of the world from their idolatry and superstition. Thus
nations who had long been immersed in errors might be led to
embrace a religion admirably adapted to the promotion of the
happiness of mankind on earth, and to prepare a rational agent for
some higher stage of existence when the drama on this tragic theater
is finished.

*******************

Note 8

The cruel oppressions long suffered by the Kingdom of Ireland from

the haughty superiority of British power, induced the wretched
inhabitants to avail themselves of this invitation, and to resort by
thousands to America after the peace took place between Great
Britain and the United States. After this, the confusions and
distractions in Ireland arose to such a height as rendered a residence
there too insupportable for description. The miserable inhabitants
who escape the sword, the burnings, and the massacre of the
English, had flattered themselves that if they could retreat from their
native country, they should received a welcome reception to an

asylum to which they had formerly been invited by the congressional

body who directed the affairs of America. There they justly thought
their industry might have been cherished, their lives and properties be
secure, and their residence rendered quiet; but a check was put to
emigration for a time by an alien law enacted by Congress in the year
1798.

This was very contrary to the policy and to the principles express by
Governor Trumbull of Connecticut to Baron R.J. Van de Capellen,
"Seigneur du Pol, Membre des Nobles de la Provence D'Overyssel,
etc." dated Lebanon, August 31, 1779.

He observes that "the climate, the soil, the productions of a continent

extending from the 30th to the 45th degree of latitude, and in
longitude an unknown width, are various beyond description, and the
objects of trade consequently unbounded. There is scarce a
manufacture, whether in the useful or ornamental part of life of which
you will not here find the materials, collected as it were in an immense
magazine. In every requisite for naval armaments we abound, our
forests yielding prodigious quantities of timber and spars; our
mountains, vast mines of iron, copper, and lead; and our fields
producing ample crops of flax and hemp. Provisions of all kinds are
raised in much greater quantities than are necessary for our own
consumption; and our wheat, our rye, our cattle, and our pork, yield to
none in the world for quality.

"The price of cultivated lands is by no means extravagant; and of

uncultivated, trifling; 12,000 acres, situated most advantageously for
future business, selling for 300 guineas English, i.e., little more than 6
pence sterling the acre. Our interests and our laws teach us to
receive strangers form every quarter of the globe with open arms.
The poor, the unfortunate, the oppressed form every country will here
find a ready asylum; and by uniting their interests with ours, enjoy in
common with us all the blessings of liberty and plenty. Neither
difference of nation, of language, of manners, or of religion will lessen
the cordiality of their reception, among a people whose religion
teaches them to regard all mankind as their brethren."

____________________

Chapter Seventeen: Distressed situation of the army and the country

from various

causes. General Gates sent to the southward. Surprised and

defeated at Camden by Lord Cornwallis. Superseded. General
Greene appointed to the command in the Carolinas. Major
Ferguson's defeat. Sir Henry Clinton makes a diversion in the
Chesapeake in favor of Lord Cornwallis. General Arnold sent there.
His defection and character. Detection, trial, and death of Major
Andre. Disposition of the Dutch Republic with regard to America.
Governor Trumbull's character and correspondence with Baron Van
de Capellen. Mr. Laurens appointed to negotiate with the Dutch
Republic.

The year 1780 was a year of incident, expectation, and event; a

period pregnant with future consequences, interesting in the highest
degree to the political happiness of the nations and perhaps
ultimately to the civil institutions of a great part of mankind. We left
England in the preceding chapter, in a very perturbed state, arising
both from their own internal dissensions and the dread of foreign
combinations, relative to their own island and its former
dependencies.

At the same time, neither the pen of the historian, nor the imagination
of the poet can fully describe the embarrassments suffered by
Congress, by the commander in chief, and by men of firmness and
principle in the several legislative bodies through this and the
beginning of the next year. The scarcity of specie, the rapid
depreciation of paper, which at once sunk the property and corrupted
the morals of the people; which destroyed all confidence in public
bodies, reduced the old army to the extremes of misery, and seemed
to preclude all possibility of raising a new one, sufficient for all the
departments; were evils which neither the wisdom nor the vigilance of
Congress could remedy.

At such a crisis, more penetration and firmness, more judgment,

impartiality, and moderation were requisite in the commander in chief
of the American armies than usually fall within the compass of the
genius or ability of man. In the neighborhood of a patent army,
General Washington had to guard, with a very inadequate force, not
only against the arms of his enemies, but the machinations of British
emissaries, continually attempted to corrupt the fidelity both of his
officers and his troops.

Perhaps no one but himself can describe the complicated sources of

anxiety that at this period pervaded the breast of the first military
officer, whose honor, whose life, whose country hung suspended not
on a single point only, but on many events that quivered in the winds
of fortune, chance, or the more uncertain determinations of men.
Happy is it to reflect that these are all under the destination of an
unerring hand that works in secret, ultimately to complete the
beneficent designs of Providence.

Some extracts from his own pen very naturally express the agitations
of the mind of General Washington in the preceding as well as the
present year. In one of his letters to a friend [This original letter was
to James Warren, Esquire, speaker of the Assembly of
Massachusetts, March 31, 1779.] he observed "...Our conflict is not
likely to cease so soon as every good man would wish. The measure
of iniquity is not yet filled; and unless we can return a little more to
first principles and act a little more upon patriotic ground, I do not
know when it will, or what may be the issue of the contest.
Speculation, peculation, engrossing, forestalling, with all their
concomitants, afford too many melancholy proofs of the decay of
public virtue; and too glaring instances of its being the interest and
desire of too many, who would wish to be thought friends, to continue
the war.

"Nothing, I am convinced, but the depreciation of our currency

proceeding in a great measure from the foregoing causes, aided by
stock-jobbing and party dissensions, has fed the hopes of the enemy,
and kept the arms of Britain in American until now. They do not
scruple to declare this themselves; and add that we shall be our own
conquerors. Cannot our common country (America) possess virtue
enough to disappoint them? With you, sir, I think that he consideration
of a little dirty pelf to individuals is not to be placed in competition with
the essential rights and liberties of the present generation and of
millions yet unborn.

"Shall a few designing men, for their own aggrandizement, and to

gratify their own avarice, overset the goodly fabric we have been
rearing at the expense of so much time, blood and treasure? And
shall we at last become the victims of our own abominable lust of
gain? Forbid it Heaven! Forbid it all, and every state in the union! by
enacting and enforcing efficacious laws for checking the growth of
these monstrous evils, and restoring matters in some degree to the
pristine state they were in at the commencement of the war.

"Our cause is noble. It is the cause of mankind. And the danger to it

springs from ourselves. Shall we slumber and sleep then when we
should be punishing those miscreants who have brought these
troubles upon us, and who are aiming to continue us in them? while
we should be striving to fill our battalions and devising ways and
means to appreciate the currency, on the credit of which everything
depends? I hope not. ... Let vigorous measures be adopted to punish
speculations, forestallers, and extortioners; and, above all, to sink the
money in heavy taxes to promote public and private economy,
encourage manufactures, etc.

"Measure of this sort gone heartily into by the several states will strike
at once at the root of all our misfortunes and give the coup de grace
to British hope of subjugating this great continent, either by their arms
or their arts. The first, as I have before observed, they acknowledge
unequal to the task; the latter, I am sure, will be so, if we are not lost
to everything that is good and virtuous.

"A little time now must unfold in some degree the enemy's designs.
Whether the sate of affairs in Europe will permit them to augment
their army with more than recruits for the regiments now in America,
and therewith attempt an active and vigorous campaign, or whether
with their Canadian and Florida force they will aid and abet the
Indians in ravaging our western frontier, while their shipping with
detachments harass, (and if they mean to prosecute the predatory
war threatened by administration through their commissioners) burn,
and destroy our sea coast, or whether, contrary to expectation, they
are more disposed to negotiate than to either, is more than I can
determine. The latter will depend very much on their apprehensions
of Spain and their own foreign alliances. At present, we seem to be
in a chaos, but this cannot last long, as I presume the ultimate
determinations of the British Court will be developed at the meeting of
Parliament after the holidays."

An extract of another letter from General Washington to the Governor

of Pennsylvania, dated August 20, 1780, discovered the same anxiety
for the fate of the contest as the above. In this he said, "To me it will
appear miraculous if your affairs can maintain themselves much
longer in their present train. if either the temper or the resources of
the country will not admit of an alteration, we may soon expect to be
reduced to the humiliating condition of seeing the cause of America
held up in America by Foreign arms. The discontents of the troops
have been gradually nurtured to a dangerous extremity. Something
satisfactory must be done, or the army must cease to exist at the end
of the campaign; or it will exhibit an example of more virtue, fortitude,
self-denial, and perseverance than has perhaps ever been paralleled
in the history of human enthusiasm."

While thus impressed with these apprehensions of the depreciation of

public virtue, General Washington had to balance the parties and to
meliorate the distresses of the inhabitants, alternately ravaged by all
descriptions of soldiers in the vicinity of both armies. It was
impossible for him to strike any capital blow, without money even for
daily expenses, without a naval force sufficient to cover any exertions;
his battalions incomplete, his army clamorous and discontented, and
on the point of mutiny, from the deficiencies in their pay and the
immediate want of every necessary of life.

At the same time, the legislatures of the several states were in the
utmost anxiety to devise ways and means to supply the requisitions
of Congress, who had recently laid a tax of many millions on the
states in order to sink the enormous quantity of old paper money.
The calls of an army, naked, hungry, and turbulent, even to the
discovery of symptoms of revolt, were indeed alarming. The pressing
necessities of the army, and the critical exigencies of the times
crowded upon them in every department and required the utmost
wisdom, vigilance, and fortitude.

Nothing depictures the characters, the sentiments, and the feelings of

men more strongly than their private letters at the time. Perhaps this
may be evinced by giving the reader a paragraph of a letter from the
speaker of the House of Representatives of Massachusetts [The
honorable James Warren, Esquire] to a private friend at this critical
era of embarrassment and perplexity.

"Our public affairs wear a most disagreeable aspect. Embarrassments

increase from every quarter. My contemplations are engrossed by
day and by night for the salvation of my country. If we succeed, I
shall have pleasure which a fortune cannot give. If we fail, I shall feel
consolations that those who are intent only on making fortunes must
envy. In a country abounding with men and provisions, it would
torture a Sully to raise and support an army in the field. Everything is
resolved into money; but the real question is, how to get it? Taxes,
though so great and often repeated, do not bring it in fast enough. We
cannot borrow, because no one will lend, while the army is in danger
of starving or disbanding. If we lay more taxes, the very people who
have been used to tender half of their property or even their all for the
service of their country will now revolt at the idea of paying a two-
hundredth part. And it might perhaps create uneasiness that might
break the union. On the other hand, if we do not lay more taxes, for
aught I see, there must be an end of the contest. All these difficulties
are increased by the successes of the enemy, which clog our
measures by dispiriting the army and the people. But I do not
despair.; One vigorous and grand campaign may yet put a glorious
period to the war. All depends on proper exertions. We have to
choose glory, honor, and happiness, or infamy, disgrace, and misery."

The complicated difficulties already depictured clearly prove that such

a spirit of avarice and peculation had crept into the public
departments and taken deep hold of the majority of the people as
Americans a few years before were thought incapable of. The careful
observer of human conduct will readily perceive that a variety of
concurring causes led to this sudden change of character. The
opulent, who had been used to ease, independence, and generosity,
were reduced, dispirited, and deprived of the ability of rendering
pecuniary service to their country by the unavoidable failure of public
faith. Great part of the fortunes of the widow, the orphan, and the
aged were sunk in the public funds; so that the nominal income of a
year would scarcely supply the necessities of a day.
The depreciation of paper had been so rapid at this time [See scale of
depreciation.], $120 of paper currency was not an equivalent to $1 in
silver or gold. While at the same time, a sudden accumulation of
property by privateering, by speculation, by accident, or fraud, placed
many in the lap of affluence, who were without principle, education, or
family. These, from a thoughtless ignorance, and the novelty of
splendor to which they had been total strangers, suddenly plunged
into every kind of dissipation, and grafted the extravagances and
follies of foreigners on their own passion for squandering what by
them had been so easily acquired.

Thus, avarice without frugality, and profusion without taste were

indulged and soon banished the simplicity an elegance that had
formerly reigned; instead of which there was spread in America
among the rising generation, a thirst for the accumulation of wealth,
unknown to their ancestors. A class who had not had the advantages
of the best education and who had paid little attention to the principles
of the revolution took the lead in manners. Sanctioned by the breach
of public faith, the private obligations of justice seemed to be little
regarded, and the sacred idea of equity in private contracts was
annihilated for a time by the example of public deficiency.

The infantile state of government, the inexperience of its leaders, and

the necessity of substituting a medium with only imaginary value,
brought an impeachment on Congress, without voluntary deviations
from probity or willing breaches of faith. Perhaps nothing is more true
than a observation of a member of that body that "the necessity of
affairs had often obliged them to depart from the purity of their first
principles." The complaint that the fountain was corrupt was artfully
diffused. However that might be, the streams were undoubtedly
tainted, and contamination, with few exceptions, seemed to run
through the whole body of the people; and a declension of morals
was equally rapid with the depreciation of their currency.
But a superintending Providence, that overrules the designs and
defeats the projects of men, remarkably upheld the spirit of
Americans; and caused events that had for a time a very unfavorable
aspect to operate in favor of independence and peace and to make a
new nation of the recent emigrants from the old and proud Empire of
Britain.

But they had yet many difficulties to struggle with, which will be
sufficiently evinced as we follow the route of the British army, and
detail the transactions in the Carolinas. The embarrassments and
distresses, the battles, skirmishes, and disappointments, the alternate
successes and defeats, flight and pursuit that took place between the
contending parties there must be more copiously related previous to
the maneuvers through the state of Virginia that led to the last capital
stroke which finished with glory and renown the grand contest
between Great Britain and her colonies and sealed the independence
of America.

Indeed, a considerable time had elapsed before the distresses of the

country; the situation of the army, naked, hungry, and clamorous; the
pressing importunity of General Washington; the addresses and
declarations of Congress; and the remonstrances of the several
legislative bodies could arouse from the pursuit of private interest
those who thought themselves secure from immediate danger.

Though from many untoward circumstances, a cloud for a time had

seemed to hover over the minds of many, the people again
awakened, both from the dream of secure enjoyment in some and the
dread apprehensions in others of falling under the British yoke. The
patriotic exertions and unshaken firmness of the few in every state
again had their influence on the many, and all seemed ready to suffer
anything but a subjugation to the Crown of Britain.

Not the loss of Charleston, a captured army, the destruction of their

marine, the sinking state of their medium, the internal ravages of their
country, and their sea coast blazing under the fire of their enemies
had the smallest tendency to bend the Americans to a dereliction of
their claim to independence. A confidence in their own good fortune,
or rather in that Providence whose fiat points out the rise an marks the
boundaries of empire, supported the more thoughtful; while a
constitutional hardiness, warmed by enthusiasm, and whetted by
innumerable and recent injuries, still buoyed up the hopes of the
soldier, the statesman, the legislator, and the

people at large, even in the darkest moments.

Immediately after the news reached Congress that General Lincoln

had surrendered Charleston and that himself and his army were
prisoners of the British commander, the Baron de Kalb, a brave and
experienced Prussian officer, who had been some time in the
American service, was ordered to Virginia, with sanguine hopes of
checking the further progress of the British arms. Though the Baron
de Kalb was an officer of great military merit, his command at the
southward was only temporary.

General Gates, the successful conqueror in the northern, was vested

with the chief command in the southern department. It was an
appointment of great responsibility This might be a reason, in addition
to the great respect which this foreign nobleman had for General
Gates, that led him to express in all his letters to his friends the
peculiar satisfaction he felt on his arrival to take chief command. An
officer of this name and experience, at once emboldened the friends
of their country, and intimidated the wavering and disaffected. The
renowned solider, who had captured one proud British general and
his army, was at that time viewed with particular awe and respect by
another.

Nor was it long before most of the British commanders were

convinced of the delusory nature of those assurances they had
received from the loyalists that a general disgust to the authority of
Congress prevailed; that the defection, more particularly in North
Carolina, was such that the people were ready to renounce all
American usurpations, as soon as the royal standard should be
erected among them. But experiment soon convinced them of the
futility of such expectations.

The Baron de Kalb had been sent on earlier from headquarters. He

had with him a detachment of 1400 men. He stayed only a few
weeks in Virginia and move from thence to Carolina, where he soon
after met General Gates. After the junction of General Gates and the
Baron de Kalb, they, with unexampled patience and fatigue, marched
an army of several thousand men through a barren country that
afforded no subsistence except green fruits and other unwholesome
aliments. They reached the borders of South Carolina and
encamped at Clermont on August 13.

On his arrival in the vicinity of the British headquarters, General Gates

published a proclamation, inviting the patriotic inhabitants of South
Carolina "to join heartily in rescuing themselves an their country from
the oppression of a government imposed on them by the ruffian hand
of power." In this proclamation, he promised forgiveness and perfect
security to such of the unfortunate citizens of the state as had been
induced by the terror of sanguinary punishments and the arbitrary
measures of military domination apparently to acquiesce under the
British government.

He observed "that they had been obliged to make a forced declaration

of allegiance and support to a tyranny which the indignant souls of
citizens resolved on freedom inwardly revolted at with horror and
detestation; that they might rest satisfied that the genuine motive
which has given energy to the present exertions is the hope of
rescuing them from the iron rod of oppression and restoring to them
those blessings of freedom and independence which it is the duty and
interest of the citizens of these United States jointly and reciprocally
to support and confirm.
The situation of General Gates at Clermont was not very
advantageous, but his design was not to continue long there, but by a
sudden move to fall unexpectedly on Lord Rawdon, who had fixed his
headquarters at Camden. This place as bout 13 miles distant from
Clermont, on the borders of the River Santee, from whence the
communication was easy to the internal parts of the country.

Lord Cornwallis had gained early intelligence of the movements of the

American army, and had arrived at Camden himself, with a similar
design, by an unexpected blow, to surprise General Gates and defeat
his arrangements. His Lordship effected his purpose with a facility
beyond his own expectation. The tow armies met in the night of
August 15, 1780. Mutually surprised by the sudden necessity of
action, a loose skirmish was kept up until the morning, when an
general engagement commenced.

The British troops were not equal in numbers to those of the

Americans, including the militia; while the renowned character of
General Gates heightened the ideas of their strength. But the onset
on both sides began with equal spirit and bravery, and was continued
with valor equally honorary to both parties, until the militia,
intimidated, particularly those from Virginia and North Carolina, gave
ground, threw down their arms, and fled with great precipitation. The
order of the army was immediately broken, and fortune no longer
favorable, forsook the American veteran at the moment his reputation
courted and depended on her smiles. His troops were totally routed,
and the general himself fled, rather than retreated, in a manner that
was thought for a time in some measure to sully the laurels of
Saratoga.

The Baron de Kalb, an officer of great military talents and reputation,

was mortally wounded in this action. He died rejoicing in the services
he had rendered America in her noble struggles for liberty, and
gloried with his last breath in the honor of dying in defense of the
rights of man. Before his death, he dictated a letter to a friend,
expressive of the warmest affection for the Americans, containing the
highest encomiums on the valor of the continental troops, of which he
had been so recent a witness, and declaring the satisfaction which he
then felt in having been a partaker of their fortune, and having fallen
in their cause. [When Lord Cornwallis was informed of the rank and
merits of Baron de Kalb, he directed that his remains should be
respectfully interred. He was buried near the village of Camden; but
no memorial of the deposit of this distinguished hero has been
preserved, though Congress some time afterwards directed a
monument should be erected to his memory. Nothing was, however,
done, except planting an ornamental tree at the head of his grave.]

The proportion of slain among the Americans was much greater than
that of the British. Brigadier General Gregory was killed, with several
other brave officers. Rutherford and others were wounded and
captured. The total rout of the Americans was completed by the
pursuit and destruction of a corps at some distance from the scene of
the late action, commanded by Colonel Sumpter. He was advancing
with a strong body to the aid of General Gates, but meeting the news
of his defeat, he endeavored to retreat, and being unfortunately
overtaken by Colonel Tarleton, his whole party was dispersed or cut
off.

Censure for a time fell very heavily on General Gates for the
precipitation and distance of his retreat. He scarcely halted until he
reached Hillsborough, 100 miles from the field of battle. Yet either the
courage nor the fidelity of the bold and long-tried veteran could be
called in question. The strongest human fortitude has frequently
suffered a momentary eclipse from that panic-struck influence, under
which the mind of man sometimes unaccountably falls, when there is
no real or obvious cause of despair. This has been exemplified in the
greatest military characters; the Duke of Parma [The masterly retreat
of the Duke of Parma before the King of France was indeed a hasty
flight; but he soon recovered himself and asked the king by a trumpet,
"what he thought of this retreat?" The king was so much out of humor
that he could not help saying "he had no skill in retreating; and that in
his opinion, the best retreat in the world was little better than a flight."
The Duke, however, gained, rather than lost reputation thereby. He
resumed his high rank, as a commander of the first abilities and lived
and died crowned with military fame and applause. Siege of Rouen.
Med. Univ. History.] and others; and even the celebrated royal hero of
Prussia has retreated before them as in a fright, but recovered
himself, defied, and conquered his enemies.

General Gates, though he had lost the day in the unfortunate action at
Camden, lost no part of his courage, vigilance, or firmness. After he
reached Hillsborough, he made several efforts to collect a force
sufficient again to meet Lord Cornwallis in the field; but the public
opinion bore hard on his reputation. He was immediately
superseded, and a court martial appointed to inquire into his conduct
He was indeed fully justified by the result of this military investigation,
and treated with the utmost respect by the army, and by the
inhabitants on his return to Virginia. Yet the tide of fame ebbed fast
before him; but the impression made by his valor and military glory
could never be erased.

The most exalted minds may, however, be clouded by misfortunes.

Chagrined by his defeat, and the consequences attending it, the
climax of his affliction was completed by the death of an amiable wife,
and the loss of his only son, a very hopeful youth, who died about the
same time. This honest republican, whose determined spirit,
incorruptible integrity, and military merits had been so eminently
useful to America in many critical emergencies, retired to Traveler's
Rest, his seat in Virginia, where he continued until the temporary
prejudice against him had subsided, when he again resumed his rank
in the army.

After a little time had dissipated the sudden impression made by his ill
success and retreat, it was allowed by almost everyone that General
Gates was not treated by Congress with all the delicacy or indeed
gratitude that was due to an officer of his acknowledged merit. He,
however, received the orders for supercedure and suspension, and
resigned the command to General Greene with becoming dignity.

With a generosity and candor characteristic of himself, General

Greene, who succeeded in the southern command, on all occasions
vindicated the reputation of General Gates, who was fully restored to
the good opinion of his countrymen; and continued to act an
honorable part until the conclusion of the war. General Greene
invariably asserted that if there was any mistake in the conduct of
Gates, it was in hazarding an action at all against such superior
forces, not in his retreating after the battle was irretrievably lost.
There was a large class who from various motives, after the
misfortunes of General Gates, endeavored to vilify his name and
detract from his character.

It may be observed in this, as in innumerable instances in the life of

man, that virtue and talents do not always hold their rank in the public
esteem. Malice, intrigue, envy, and other adventitious circumstances,
frequently cast a shade over the most meritorious characters; and
fortune, more than real worth, not seldom establishes the reputation
of her favorites, in the opinion of the undiscerning multitude, and
hands them down to posterity with laurels on their brow, which
perhaps they never earned, while characters of more intrinsic
excellence are vilified and forgotten. General Gates, however, had
the consolation at all times to reflect on the just and universal plaudits
he received for the glorious termination of his northern campaign and
the many advantages which accrued to America from the complete
conquest of such a formidable body of her foes.

Lord Cornwallis did not reap all the advantages he had expected from
his victory at Camden. His severity did not aid his designs, though he
sanctioned by proclamations the most summary executions of the
unhappy sufferers who had by compulsion borne arms in the British
service and were afterwards found enlisted under the banners of their
country, in opposition to royal authority. Many of this description
suffered immediate death in consequence of the order of the
commander in chief, while their houses were burned and their
families obliged to fly naked to the

wilderness to seek some miserable shelter. Indeed, little less severity

could have been expected from circumstances not favorable to the
character of a British nobleman.

Whether stimulated by resentment, aroused by fear, or prompted by a

wish to depopulate a country they despaired of conquering, is
uncertain. It is true, however, that some of the British commanders
when coming to action observed in general orders that they wanted
no prisoners; and it was said that even Lord Cornwallis had
sometimes given the same cruel intimation to troops too much
disposed to barbarity, without the countenance of their superiors. The
outrages of Tarleton and other British partisans, who cruelly and
successfully ravaged the Carolinas, exemplified in too many
instances that the account of this disposition is not exaggerated.
Their licentiousness was for several weeks indulged, without any
check to their wanton barbarities. But the people daily more and
more alienated from the royal cause, by a series of unthought of
miseries, inflicted and suffered in consequence of its success; the
inhabitants of the state of North Carolina, as well as South Carolina
and Georgia, and indeed the settler on the more distant borders,
were, in a few weeks after

the battle of Camden, everywhere in motion to stop the progress of

British depredation and power. For a time, these fierce people were
without connected system, regular discipline or subordination, and
had scarcely any knowledge of each other's designs. Small parties
collected under any officer who had the courage to lead them on, and
many such they found, ready to sacrifice everything to the liberty they
had enjoyed and that independence they wished to maintain.
From the desultory movements of the British after the Battle of
Camden, and the continual resistance and unceasing activity of the
Americans, attach and defeat, surprise and escape, plunder, burning,
and devastation pervaded the whole country, when the aged, the
helpless, the women and the children alternately fell the prey of
opposite partisans. But the defeat of Major Ferguson, a brave and
favorite officer, early in autumn, was a blow that discovered at once
the spirit of the people and opened to Lord Cornwallis the general
disaffection of that part of the country where he had been led to place
the most confidence.

Major Ferguson had for several weeks taken post in Tryon County, not
far distant from the western mountains. He had there collected a
body of royalists who, united with his regular detachments, spread
terror and dismay through all the adjacent country. This aroused to
action all who were capable of bearing arms in opposition to his
designs. A body of militia collected in and about the highlands of
North Carolina. A party of Hunter's riflemen, a number of the steady
yeomanry of the country, in short, a numerous and resolute band, in
defiance of danger and fatigue, determined to drive him from his
strong position on a spot called King's Mountain. Under various
commanders who had little knowledge of each other, they seemed all
to unite in the design of hunting down this useful prop of British
authority, in that part of the country.

These hardy partisans effected their purpose; and thought eh British

commander exhibited the valor of a brave and magnanimous officer,
and his troops acquitted themselves with vigor and spirit, the
Americans, who in great numbers surrounded them, won the day.
Major Ferguson, with 150 of his men, fell in the action, and 700 were
made prisoners, from whom where selected few, who, from motives
of public zeal or private revenge were immediately executed. This
summary infliction was imposed by order of some of those fierce and
uncivilized chieftains who had spent most of their live in the
mountains and forests amid the slaughter of wild animals, which was
necessary to their daily subsistence.
Perhaps the local situation of the hunts man or savage may lessen
their horror at the sight of blood, where streams are continual pouring
down before them, from the gasping victim slain by their own hands;
and this may lead them, with fewer marks of compassion, to immolate
their own species when either interest or resentment stimulates. In
addition to this, all compassionate sensations might be totally
deadened by the example of the British, who seemed to estimate the
life of a man on the same grade with that of the animal of the forest.

The order for executing 10 of the prisoners [This step was justly
complained of in a letter to General Smallwood from Lord Cornwallis.
He particularly regretted the death of a Colonel Mills, a gentleman of
a fair and uniform character; also a Captain Oates, and others who
were charged with no crimes but that of royalism.] immediately on
their capture was directed, as previously threatened by a Colonel
Cleveland, who with Williams, Sevier, Shelby, and Campbell were the
principal officers who formed and conducted the enterprise against
Ferguson.

After this victory, most of the adherents to the royal cause in the
interior parts of the Carolinas either changed sides or sunk into
obscurity. Lord Cornwallis himself, in a letter to Sir Henry Clinton
about this time, complained that "it was in the militia of the northern
frontier alone that he could place the smallest dependence; and that
they were so totally dispirited by Ferguson's defeat that in the whole
district he could not assemble a hundred men, and even in them he
could not now place the smallest confidence." [Sir Henry Clinton
observed on this occasion that "the fatal catastrophe of Ferguson's
defeat had lost Lord Cornwallis the whole militia of Ninety-Six,
amounting to 4000 men; and even threw South Carolina into a state of
confusion and rebellion."]

There had been repeated assurances given by the loyalists in North

Carolina that their numbers and their zeal would facilitate the
restoration of His Majesty's government in that province; but it
appears by many circumstances that these promises were
considered as very futile in the opinion of several of the principal
officers of the British army, as well as the chief commander.

Soon after the affair with Ferguson, Lord Cornwallis's health was so
far impaired that he directed Lord Rawdon to make communications
to Sir Henry Clinton, and to give him a full statement of the perplexed
and perilous situation of His Majesty's forces in the Carolinas. After
stating many circumstances of the deception of the loyalists the
difficulty of obtaining subsistence in such a barren country, and other
particulars of their situation, Lord Rawdon observed in this letter to
General Clinton that they were greatly surprised that no information
had been given them of the advance of General Gates's army; and
"no less grieved that no information whatever of its movements was
conveyed to us by persons so deeply interested in the event as the
North Carolina loyalists."

After the defeat of General Gates and the dispersion of his army, the
loyalists were informed that the moment had arrived when they ought
immediately to stand forth and "exert themselves to present the
reunion of the scattered enemy. Instant support was in that case
promised them. Not a single man, however, attempted to improve the
favorable opportunity or obeyed that summons for which they had
before been so impatient. It was hoped that our approach might get
the better of their timidity; yet, during a long period, while we were
waiting at Charlotteburgh for our stores and convalescents, they did
not even furnish us with the least information respecting the fore
collecting against us. In short, sir, we may have a powerful body of
friends in North Carolina, and indeed we have cause to be convinced
that many of the inhabitants wish well to His Majesty's arms; but they
have not given evidence enough either of their number or their
activity to justify the stake of this province for the uncertain
advantages that might attend immediate junction with them. There is
reason to believe that such must have been the risk.
"While this army lay a Charlotteburgh, Georgetown was taken from
the militia by the rebels; and the whole country to the east of the
Santee gave such proofs of general defection that even the militia of
the High Hills could not be prevailed on to join a party of troops who
were sent to protect the boats on the river. The defeat of Major
Ferguson ha so far dispirited this part of the country, and indeed the
loyal subjects were so wearied by the long continuance of the
campaign that Lieutenant Colonel Cruger (command at Ninety-Six)
sent information to Earl Cornwallis that the whole district had
determined to submit as soon as the rebels should enter it." [Lord
Rawdon's letter to General Clinton, October 29, 1780.]

While Lord Cornwallis lay ill of a fever, Lord Rawdon wrote to Major
General Leslie in terms of disappointment and despondence. He
observed "that events had unfortunately taken place very different
from expectation; that the first rumor of an advancing army under
General Gates had unveiled a spirit of disaffection of which they
could have formed no idea; and even the dispersion of that force did
not extinguish the ferment which the hope of its support had raised.
This hour, the majority of the inhabitants of that tract between Pedee
and the Santee are in arms against us; and when we last heard from
Charleston, they were in possession of Georgetown, from which they
had dislodged our militia. [See printed correspondence of Generals
Clinton, Cornwallis, Rawdon, etc., published in London, 1783.]

While Lord Cornwallis was thus embarrassed and disappointed by

various unsuccessful attempts and the defeat of many of his military
operations in the Carolinas this year, Sir Henry Clinton made a
diversion in the Chesapeake, in favor of His Lordship's designs. A
body of about 3000 men was sent on under the command of General
Leslie. He was under the orders of Lord Cornwallis; but not hearing
from His Lordship for some time after his arrival, he was totally at a
loss in what manner to proceed. But some time in the month of
October, he received letters from Lord Cornwallis directing him to
repair with all possible expedition to Charleston, to assist with all his
forces in the complete subjugation of the Carolinas.
Sir Henry Clinton, from an idea that Cornwallis's prime object was the
reduction of the Carolinas and sensible of the necessity at the same
time of solid operations in Virginia, paid all proper attention to the
expedition into the Chesapeake. After General Leslie, in obedience
to the orders of Lord Cornwallis, had marched to the southward, the
command of the armament in Virginia was given to General Arnold,
who now acted under the orders of Sir Henry Clinton. In
consequence of his defection, he had been advanced to the rank of a
Brigadier General in the British army.

General Arnold had recently deserted the American cause, sold

himself to the enemies of his country, and engaged in their service.
He was a man without principles from the beginning; and before his
defection was discovered, he had sunk a character raise by
impetuous valor, and some occasional strokes of bravery, attended
with success without being the possessor of any intrinsic merit.

He had accumulated a fortune by great crimes, and squandered it

without reputation, long before he formed the plan to betray his
country and sacrifice a cause disgraced by the appointment of a man
like himself to such important trusts. Proud of the trapping s of office,
and ambitious of an ostentatious display of wealth and greatness (the
certain mark of a narrow mind) he had wasted the plunder acquired at
Montreal, where his conduct had been remarkably reprehensible; and
ha dissipated the rich harvest of peculation he had reaped at
Philadelphia, where his rapacity had no bounds.

Montreal he had plundered in haste; but in Philadelphia, he sat

himself down deliberately to seize everything he could lay hands on
in the city, to which he could affix an idea that it had been the property
of the disaffected party and converted it to his own use. {See
resolutions of the Governor and Council at Philadelphia, February 3,
1779, relative to Arnold's conduct in that city.] Not satisfied with the
unjust accumulation of wealth, he had entered into contracts for
speculating and privateering, and at the same time made exorbitant
demands on Congress, in compensation of public services. In the
one, he was disappointed by the common failure of such adventures;
in the other he was rebuffed and mortified by the commissioners
appointed to examine his accounts, who curtailed a great part of his
demands as unjust, unfounded, and for which he deserved severe
reprehension, instead of a liquidation of the accounts he had
exhibited.

Involved by extravagance, and reproached by his creditors, his

resentment wrought him up to a determination of revenge for public
ignominy, at the expense of his country, and the sacrifice of the small
remains of reputation left after the perpetration of so many crimes.

The command of the very important post at West Point was vested in
General Arnold. No one suspected, notwithstanding the censures
which had fallen on him, that the had a heart base enough
treacherously to betray his military trust. Who made the first
advances to negotiation is uncertain; but it appeared on a scrutiny that
Arnold had made overtures to General Clinton, characteristic of his
own turpitude and not very honorary to the British commander, if
viewed abstractedly from the usage of war, which too frequently
sanctions the blackest crimes and enters into stipulations to justify the
treason, while generosity despises the traitor and revolts at the
villainy of the patricide. Thus his treacherous proposals were listened
to and Sir Henry Clinton authorized Major Andre, his adjutant general,
a young gentleman of great integrity and worth, to hold personal and
secret conference with the guilty Arnold.

A British sloop of war had been stationed for some time at a

convenient place to facilitate the design. It was also said that Andre
and Arnold had kept up a friendly correspondence on some trivial
matters previous to the personal interview, which took place on
September 21, 1780. Major Andre was landed in the night on a
beach without the military boundaries of either army. He there met
Arnold, who communicated to him the state of the army and garrison
at West Point, the number of men considered as necessary for its
defense, a return of the ordnance, and the disposition of the artillery
corps in case of an attack or alarm. The accounts he gave in writing,
with drafts of al the works. These papers were afterwards found in the
boot of the unfortunate Andre.

The conference continued so long that it did not finish timely for the
safe retreat of Major Andre. He was conducted , though without his
knowledge or consent, within the American posts, where he was
obliged to conceal himself in company with Arnold until the ensuing
morning. It was then found impracticable for Clinton's agent to make
his escape by the way he had advanced. The Vulture sloop of war,
from whence he had been landed, had shifted her station while he
was on shore and lay so much exposed to the fire of the Americans
that the boatmen whom Arnold had bribed to bring his new friend to
the conference, refused to venture a second time on board. This
circumstance rendered it impossible for Major Andre to return to New
York by water. He was therefore impelled, by the advice of Arnold, to
a circuitous route as the only alternative to escape the danger into
which he was indiscreetly betrayed.

Thus as this young officer, whose former character undoubtedly

rendered him worthy of a better fate, reduced to the necessity of
hurrying as a disguised criminal through the posts of his enemies in
fallacious hopes of again recovering the camp of his friends. In this
painful state of mind, he had nearly reached the British, when he was
suddenly arrested within the American lines, by three private soldiers.
He reflections may be more easily imagined than described -- taken
in the night, detected in a disguised habit, under a fictitious name,
with a plan of the works at West Point, the situation, the numbers,
and the strength of the American army, with a pass under the hand of
General Arnold in his pocket book.

He urged for a few moments that man who first seized his horse's
bridle, to let him pass on; told him that his name as John Anderson;
that his business was important; and that he could not be detained.
But two other soldiers coming up and in a peremptory manner
saluting him as their prisoner, after challenging him as a spy, he
attempted no farther equivocation, but presented a purse of gold, an
elegant watch, and offered other very tempting rewards if he might be
permitted to pass unmolested to New York. Generously rejected all
pecuniary rewards, the disinterested privates who seized the
unfortunate Andre had the fidelity to convey their prisoner as speedily
as possible to the headquarters so the American army.

Such instances of fidelity and such contempt for private interest which
united with duty and obligation to the public are so rare among the
common classes of mankind that the names of John Paulding, David
Williams, and Isaac Vanvert [These were the names of the three
soldiers who detected and secured Major Andre.] ought never to be
forgotten. General Washington immediately informed Congress of
the whole business and appointed a court martial, consisting of the
principal officers of the army, to inquire into the circumstances and
criminality of this interesting affair.

The day after Major Andre was taken, he wrote to General

Washington with a frankness becoming a gentleman and a man of
honor and principle. He observed that what he had as yet said of
himself was in the justifiable attempt to extricate him from threatened
danger; but to, too little accustomed to duplicity, he had not
succeeded. he intimated that the tempter of his mind was equal; and
that no apprehension of personal safety had induced him to address
the commander in chief. But that it was to secure himself from the
imputation of having assumed a mean character, for treacherous
purposes or self-interest, a conduct which he declared incompatible
with the principles which had eve actuated him as well as with his
condition in former life.

In this letter he added "It is to vindicate my fame that I speak: not to

solicit security. The person in your possess is Major John Andre,
adjutant general to the British army." He then detailed the whole
transaction, from his going up the Hudson in the Vulture sloops of
war, until seized by Tarrytown, without his uniform, and , as himself
expressed, "betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy within your
posts." He requested His Excellency that he might be treated as a
man of honor; and urged that "in any rigor policy might dictate, I pray
that a decency of conduct towards me may mark that though
unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable, as no motive
could be mine, but the service of my king; and that I was involuntarily
an impostor."

After a thorough investigation, the result of the trial of Major Andre

was a unanimous opinion of the court martial that his accusation was
just. They reported "that Major Andre, adjutant general to the British
army, ought to be considered as a spy from the enemy; that he came
on shore from the Vulture sloop of war in the night of September 21,
on an interview with General Arnold, in a private and secret manner;
that he changed his dress within our lines, and under a feigned name,
and in a

disguised habit, passed our works at Stoney and Verplank's Points;

that he was taken in a disguised habit on his way to New York; that
he had in his possession several papers which contained intelligence
for the enemy; and that agreeable to the laws and usages of nations,
it is their opinion he ought to suffer death." [The court consisted of 14
very respectable officers, of whom General Greene was president.
See trial of Major Andre.]

Great interest was made in favor of this young gentleman, whose life
had been unimpeached, and whose character promised a
distinguished rank in society, both as a man of letters and a soldier.
He was elegant in person, amiable in manners, polite, sensible, and
brave; but from a misguided zeal for the service of his king, he
descended to an assume and disgraceful character; and by accident
and mistake in himself, and the indiscretion and baseness of his
untried friend, he found himself ranked with a class held infamous
among all civilized nations.

The character of a spy has ever been held mean and disgraceful by
all classes of men; yet the most celebrated commanders of all nations
have frequently employed some of their bravest and most confidential
officers to wear a guise, in which, if detected, they are at once
subjected to infamy and to the halter. Doubtless, the Generals Clinton
ad Washington were equally culpable in selecting an Andre and a
Hale to hazard all the hopes of youth and talents on the precarious
die of executing with success a business to which so much deception
and baseness is attached.

But the fate of Andre was lamented by the enemies of his nation. His
sufferings were soothed by the politeness and generosity of the
commander in chief, and the officers of the American army. The
gloom of imprisonment was cheered in part and the terrors of death
mitigated by the friendly intercourse and converse of benevolent
minds; and the tear of compassion was drawn from every pitying eye
that beheld this accomplished youth a victim to the usages of war.
While the unfortunate Hale, detected in the effort of gaining
intelligence of the designs of the enemies of his country, in the same
clandestine manner, had been hanged in the city of New York, without
a day lent to pause on the awful transition from time to eternity. [See
an account of Captain Hale's execution in the British Remembrancer,
and other historical records.]

This event took place soon after the action on Long Island. The
dilemma to which he was reduced and the situation of his army
rendered it expedient for General Washington to endeavor to gain
some intelligence of the designs and subsequent operations of Sir
William Howe and the army under his command. This being
intimated by Colonel Smallwood to Captain Hale, a young gentleman
of unimpeachable character and rising hopes, he generously offered
to risk his life for the service of his country in the perilous experiment.
He ventured into the city, was detected, and with the same frankness
and liberality of mind that marked the character of Andre,
acknowledged that he was employed in a business that could not be
forgiven by his enemies; and without the smallest trait of compassion
from anyone, he was cruelly insulted and executed with disgraceful
rigor. Nor was he permitted to bid a melancholy adieu to his friends
by conveying letters to inform them of the fatal catastrophe that
prematurely robbed them of a beloved son.

The lies of two such valuable young officers thus cut off in the morning
of expectation were similar in everything but the treatment they
received from the hands of their enemies. The reader will draw the
parallel or the contrast between the conduct of the British and the
Americans on an occasion that demanded equal humanity and
tenderness from every beholder and make his own comment.

A personal interview at the request of Sir Henry Clinton took place

between the Generals Robertson and Greene; and everything in the
power of ingenuity, humanity, or affection was proposed by General
Robertson to prevent the fate of the unhappy Andre. It was urged
that he went from the Vulture under the sanction of a flag; and that
General Arnold had, as he had a right to do, admitted him within the
American lines. But Major Andre had too much sincerity to make sue
of any subterfuge not founded in truth. In the course of his
examination, he, with the utmost candor, acknowledged that "it was
impossible for him to suppose he came on shore under the sanction
of a flag."

The propriety and dignity with which he had written to General

Washington on his first becoming a prisoner; the acknowledgment of
his rank and condition in life, the manner of his detection, the
accident of his being betrayed within the American posts; and indeed
such was his whole department that he feelings of humanity forbade
a wish for the operation of the rigorous maxims of war.
It was thought necessary that he should be adjudged the victim of
policy; but resentment towards him was never harbored in any
bosom. He gratefully acknowledged the kindness and civilities he
received from the American officers; but he wished some amelioration
of some part of his sentence; his sensibility was wounded by the
manner in which he was doomed to die.

He wrote General Washington the day before his execution that

"Buoyed above the terror of death by the consciousness of a life
devoted to honorable pursuits, stained with no action that can give
me remorse, I trust that the request I make to Your Excellency at this
severe period, and which is to soften my last moments, will not be
rejected.

"Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce you to adapt the mode
of my death to the feelings of a man of honor.

"Let me hope, sir, that if aught in my character impresses you with

esteem towards me; if aught in my misfortunes marks me the victim
of policy, not of resentment; I shall experience the operation of those
feelings in your breast by being informed I am not to doe on a gibbet."

This is last and pathetic request, to die as a soldier and a man of

honor, not as a criminal, the severity of military rules pronounced
inadmissible; and this gallant and amiable young officer fell as a
traitor, amid the armies of America, but without a personal enemy.
Every tongue acceded to the justice of his sentence, yet every eye
dropped tear at the necessity of its execution. Many persons, from
the impulse of humanity, thought that General Washington might,
consistently with his character as a soldier and a patriot, have
meliorated the sentence of death so far as to have saved, at his own
earnest request, the amiable young man from the ignominy of a
gallows, by permitting him to die in a mode more consonant to the
ideas of the brave, the honorable, and the virtuous.
When General Arnold was first apprised of the detection of Major
Andre and that he was conducted to headquarters, he was struck
with astonishment and terror, and in the agitation and agonies of a
man, he called for a horse, mounted instantly, and rode down a
craggy steep, never before explored on horseback. He took a barge,
and, under a flag, he passed Verplank's Point and soon found himself
safe beneath the guns of the Vulture sloop of war. Before he took
leave of the bargemen, he made them a very generous offers if they
would act as dishonorably as he had done; he promised them higher
and better wages, if they would desert their country and enlist in the
service of Britain; but they spurned at the offer and were permitted to
return. Perhaps, had these American watermen been apprised of the
full extent of Arnold's criminality, they would have acted with as much
resolution as the trio who seized Major Andre, and have secured
Arnold, when he might have suffered the punishment he deserved.

After Arnold had got safe to New York, he wrote to General

Washington in behalf of his wife; endeavored to justify his own
conduct, and his appointment and conference with Andre; claimed his
right to send a flag to the enemy for any purposes he might think
proper while he held a respectable command in the American army;
and urged the release of Major Andre with art, insolence, and
address. He did not stop here, but on October 7, five days after the
execution of Andre, he sent out an address to the people of America,
fabricated under the auspices of his new masters, and couched in
very insolent and overbearing language. He cast many indecent
reflections on Congress, on his countrymen, on the French nation,
and on the alliance between America and France.

Soon after his arrival in New York, he received the price of his fidelity:
10,000 pounds sterling, in cash, and his honor, in a new commission
under the Crown of Great Britain.

The Generals Clinton and Robertson did everything to save the life of
their favorite Andre, except delivering up the traitor Arnold. Tot his
exchange, General Washington would readily have acceded; but a
proposal of this nature could not be admitted; for, however beloved or
esteemed the individual may be, personal regards must yield to
political exigencies. Thus while the accomplished Andre was
permitted to die by the and of the common executioner, the infamous
Arnold was caressed, rewarded, and promoted to high rank in the
British army.

The American government was not remiss in all proper

encouragement to signal instances of faithful attachment to the
interest and service of their country. Congress ordered that the three
private soldiers who had rejected the offers of Andre on his detection
should each of them be presented with a silver medal, $200 annually
during life, and the thanks of Congress, acknowledging the high
sense they retained of the virtuous conduct of Paulding, Williams, and
Vanvert.

Sir Henry Clinton had so high an opinion of General Arnold's military

abilities and placed such entire confidence in this infamous traitor to
this country that he vested him with commands of high trust and
importance; and for a time placed his sole dependence on him for the
ravage of the borders of Virginia. He had now the sole command in
the Chesapeake; and by his rapacity, he was qualified to surprise and
plunder. His talents for prosecuting hostilities by unexpected attack
and massacre were well known in both armies. But affairs in Virginia
beginning to wear a more serious aspect, General Clinton thought it
not proper to leave General Arnold to his own discretion for any
length of time, without the support and assistance of officers of more
respectable character, who we shall see were appointed and sent
forward the beginning of the next year.

We leave the operations of the British commanders in their several

departments for the present and again advert to some interesting
circumstances and new disappointments that took place towards the
close of the present year and filled the mind of every true American
with the utmost concern. There had yet been no treaty or public
stipulations between the United States and any foreign nation except
France; but circumstances had been ripening to bring forward
immediate negotiations with the Dutch Republic.

Holland was at this period in a more delicate situation than almost any
other European power. Great Britain claimed her as an ally and held
up the obligations of patronage and protection in strong language.
But the nature of the dispute between Great Britain and her
transatlantic domains, as well as the commercial views of the Belgian
provinces interested the merchants, the burgomasters, and the
pensioners of Holland in favor of America. While the partiality of the
Stadtholder, his family, and the court connections were altogether
British; or, at least, the motives of interest, affection, or fear held them
up in that light.

In the intermediate time, the clandestine assistance given by the

Dutch merchants was very advantageous to America; and the private
encouragement of some of other magistrates of the United
Netherlands that a treaty of alliance and the strictest amity might in
time be accomplished between the two republics, heightened the
expectations of the American Congress. None of the principal
characters among the Batavians were more zealously interested in
the success of the American struggle for independence than Robert
Jasper Van de Capellen, Lord of Marsch.

This worthy Dutchman, as early as December 7, 1778 had solicited a

correspondence with several of the most prominent characters in
America. A more correct and judicious correspondent he could not
have selected than Governor Trumbull of Connecticut, whose merits
as a man, a patriot, and a Christian cannot be too highly appreciated.
This gentleman was distinguished in each line of this triple character:
as a man, his abilities were conspicuous, his comprehension clear,
and his judgment correct. The sedateness of his mind qualified him
for the patriot, and the friend of a young and growing country, whose
manufactures had been checked, her commerce cramped, and her
liberties (for the enjoyment of which they had fled to a distant world)
curtailed; and in no instance did he ever deviate from the principles of
the revolution. His uniform conduct as a Christian was not less signal;
his integrity and uprightness, his benevolence and piety, and the
purity and simplicity of his manners, through a long life, approached
as near the example of the primitive patterns of a sublime religion as
that of anyone raised to eminence of office, who, by the flatteries of
their fellow men, are too often led to forget themselves, their country,
and their God.

The Baron Van de Capellen was a zealous supporter of the Americans

in their claim to independence and predisposed many of his
countrymen to unite cordially with them and enter into treaties of
amity and commerce, previous to the arrival of a minister at the
Hague to negotiate on that subject.

In one of his letters to Governor Trumbull, he had observed "that

among other causes of distrust, in relation to the credit of America,
was the false intelligence which the English incessantly circulate, the
effects of which the friends of the Americans cannot destroy, for the
want of information; that it was of the last importance to enable them
by authentic relations which should contain nothing but what was
precisely true and in which even the disadvantages inseparable from
the chances of war should not be concealed; in order to enable them
from time to time to give an idea of the actual state of things and of
what is really passing on the other side of the ocean."

He added, "If you choose, sir, to honor me with such a

correspondence, be assured that I shall make a proper use of it.
Communications apparently in confidence have a much stronger
influence than those which appear in public." He observed that "a
description of the present state and advantages of United America; of
the forms of government in its different republics; of the facility with
which strangers there may establish themselves and find a
subsistence; of the price of lands, both cultivated and unimproved, of
cattle, provisions, etc.; with a succinct history of the present war, and
the cruelties committed by the English, would excite astonishment in
a country where America is known but through the medium of the
gazettes."

Governor Trumbull had not hesitated to comply with this request. He

had detailed a succinct narrative of past and present circumstances
and the future prospects of America; for a part of which the reader is
referred to Note 9, at the end of this chapter. The Baron Capellen
observes on the above letter of this gentleman that "it was to be
regretted that so handsome, so energetic a defense of the American
cause should be shut up in the portfolio of an individual; that he had
communicated it with discretion in Amsterdam; and that it had made a
very strong impression on all who had read it."

These favorable dispositions among many persons of high

consideration in the United Netherlands, whose ancestors had
suffered so much to secure their own liberties, led Congress to
expect their aid and support in a contest so interesting to republican
opinion and the general freedom of mankind. It forbade any farther
delay in the councils of America. Congress were convinced no time
was to be lost; but that a minister with proper credentials should
immediately appear in a public character at the Hague; or if that
should be found inadmissible that he should have instructions to
regulate any private negotiations according to the dictates of
judgment, discretion, or necessity.

Accordingly, early in the present year, the honorable Henry Laurens of

South Carolina, late president of the Continental Congress, was
vested with this important commission. Perhaps a more judicious
choice of a public minister could not have been made throughout the
states. From his prudence, probity, politeness, and knowledge of the
world, Mr. Laurens was competent to the trust, and well qualified for
 the execution thereof. But he was, unfortunately, captured on his way
by Admiral Edwards, carried to Newfoundland, and from thence sent
to England, where he experienced all the rigors of severity usually
inflicted on state criminals.

Before Mr. Laurens left the foggy atmosphere of Newfoundland, an

apparent instance of the deep-rooted jealousy harbored in the
breasts of British officers against all Americans who fell into their
hands was discovered by the refusal of Admiral Edwards to permit at
Mr. Laurens's request Mr. Winslow Warren to accompany him to
Europe in the frigate in which he sailed.

This youth was the son of a gentleman who had been vested with
some of the first and most respectable offices of trust and importance
in America. He was captured on his way to Europe a few weeks
before Mr. Laurens, to whom he had introductory letters from some of
the first characters in America, to be delivered on his arrival at the
Hague. Their unfortunate meeting as prisoners on this dreary spot
gave him an early opportunity to present them. No cartel had yet
been settled for the exchange of prisoners; and sensibly touched with
compassion for their sufferings, Mr. Warren voluntarily engaged to
remain as a hostage until that arrangement might take place. The
Admiral consented to send a great number of Americans to Boston,
on Mr. Warren's word of honor that an equal number of British
prisoners would be returned.

Mr. Laurens wished to anticipate his release from the generous

feelings of his own mind as well as from the delicacy of sentiment and
the accomplished manners of Mr. Warren; and though they were both
treated with the utmost politeness by Admiral Edwards, he refused to
gratify these gentlemen in their mutual wishes to be fellow
passengers, as they were fellow prisoners. But the Admiral permitted
Mr. Warren, within three or four days after Mr. Laurens's departure, to
take passage in another frigate bound directly to England.
Mr. Laurens took an affectionate leave of Mr. Warren, and requested
him to write his friends or to tell t hem if he reached America before
him that "though he was an old man who had recently lost all his
estates in Charleston by the capture of that city and had now lost his
liberty, that the was still the same; firm, cheerful, and unruffled by the
shocks of fortune."

When Mr. Laurens arrived in England, he was committed to the Tower,

confined to very narrow apartments, and denied all intercourse with
his friends. There Mr. Warren saw him when he arrived in England,
near enough to exchange a salute, but they were not permitted to
speak to each other.

It is observable that the defection of General Arnold, and the capture

of Mr. Laurens took place within a few days of each other. These two
circumstances operated on the passions of men in a contrasted point
of view. The treachery of Arnold was beheld with irritation and
disdain by his former military associates and with the utmost disgust
and abhorrence through all America. The fate of Mr. Laurens
awakened the better feelings of the human heart. As an individual of
the highest respectability, all who know him were pained with
apprehensions, lest he should be subjected to personal danger or
sufferings. As a diplomatic officer, the first public character that had
been sent to the Batavian provinces, it was feared captivity and
detention might have an unfavorable effect on the foreign relations of
America, and particularly on their connection with Holland. Indeed, a
variety of circumstances that took place through the summer and
autumn of this did not augur the most propitious promises relative to
the operations of the next year.

******************************

Note 9
Governor Trumbull observed thus: "The only obstacle which I foresee
to the settlement of foreigners in the country will be the taxes, which
must inevitably for a time run high, for he payment of the debts
contracted during the present war. These, indeed, will be much
lightened by the care which has been taken to confine these debts as
much as possible among ourselves, and by emitting a paper currency
in place of borrowing from abroad. But this method, though it secures
the country from being drained hereafter of immense sums of solid
coin which can never return, has exposed us to a new and very
disagreeable embarrassment by its monstrous depreciation. An evil
which had its rise in and owes all its rapid increase to the single
cause of our not having provided at a sufficiently early period for its
reduction and payment by taxes. This measure was indeed rendered
impractical at the proper time by the radical derangement of the
system of government and, consequently, of revenue in many of the
United States; and its necessary delay till the removal of these
impediments gave time for avarice and suspicion to unite in sapping
the foundations of our internal credit."

He adds, "I am no advocate for internal or foreign loans. In my

opinion, they are like cold water in a fever, which allays the disease
for a moment, but soon cases it to rage with a redoubled violence;
temporary alleviations, but ultimately real additions to the burden.
The debts which we have already contacted or may hereafter to
necessitated to contract abroad, I have not a doubt but will be paid
with the utmost punctuality and honor; and there can be no surer
foundation of credit than we possess in the rapidly increasing value
and importance of our country.

"In short, it is not so much my wish that the United States should gain
credit among foreign nations for the loan of money, as that all nations,
and especially your countrymen in Holland, should be made
acquainted with the real state of the American war. The importance
and greatness of this rising empire, the future extensive value of our
commerce, the advantages of colonization, are objects which need
only to be known to command your attention, protection, and support.
"Give me leave most sincerely to express my grief that the efforts you
have made for the removal of oppression in your own country and for
extending the blessings of liberty and plenty to the poor should have
met with so ungrateful a return of persecution and insult. Unhappy
state of man! where opulence and power conspire to load the poor,
the defenseless, and the innocent with accumulated misery; where an
unworthy few join to embitter the life of half their fellow men, that they
may wallow in the excess of luxurious debauch or shine in the
splendid trappings of folly.

_____________

Chapter Eighteen: Revolt of the Pennsylvania line. Discontents in

other parts of the army Paper medium sunk. Some active
movements of Don Bernard de Galvez in America. War between
Great Britain and Spain opened in Europe by the siege of Gibraltar.
Short view of diplomatic transactions between America and several
European powers. Empress of Russia refuses to treat with the
American States.

We have already seen the double disappointments experience by the

United States occasioned by the capture of one army in South
Carolina under General Lincoln, and the defeat of another
commanded by General Gates in North Carolina, who was sent
forward with the highest expectations of retrieving affairs in that
quarter... We have seen the complicated embarrassments of the
United States relative to raising, paying, and supporting a permanent
army... We have seen the pernicious effects of a depreciating
currency and the beginning of a spirit of peculation and regard to
private interest that was not expected from the former habits and
professions of Americans... We have seen the disappointments and
delay relative to foreign negotiations... We have seen both the patient
sufferings of the American army under this greatest necessity and the
rising restlessness that soon pervaded nearly the whole body of the
soldiery; and we have also seen the desertion of a general officer, in
whom confidence had been placed as a man of courage. We left
Arnold stigmatized as a traitor and in all the pride and insolence of a
British general, newly vested with command in reward of villainy,
beginning under the British standard his career of ravage and
depredation in Virginia.

In addition to the alarming circumstances already recapitulated at the

close of the preceding year, the most dangerous symptoms were
exhibited in the conduct of a part of the army which broke out in
revolt; and the secession of the whole Pennsylvania line spread a
temporary dismay.

On January 1, 1781, upwards of a thousand men belonging to that

line marched in a body from the camp; others, equally disaffected,
soon followed them. They took an advantageous ground, chose for
their leader a sergeant major, a British deserter, and saluted him as
their major general. On the third day of their revolt, a message was
sent from the officers of the American camp. This they refused to
receive. But to a flag which followed, requesting to know their
complaints and intentions, they replied that "they had served three
years; that they had engaged to serve no longer; nor would they
return or disperse until their grievances were redressed and their
arrearages paid."

General Wayne, who commanded the line, had been greatly beloved
and respected by the soldiery, nor did he at first himself doubt but that
his influence would soon bring them back to their duty. He did
everything in the power of a spirited and judicious office to dissipate
their murmurs and to quiet their clamors in the beginning of the
insurrection. But many of them pointed their bayonets at his breast;
told him to be on his guard; that they were determined to march to
Congress to obtain a redress of grievances; and that, though they
respected him as an officer, and loved his person, yet, if he attempted
to fire on them, "he as a dead man."
Sir Henry Clinton soon gained intelligence of the confusion and
danger into which the Americans were plunged. He improved the
advantageous moment and made the revolters every tempting offer
to increase and fix their defection. He sent several persons to offer in
his name a pardon for all past offenses, an immediate payment of
their full demands on Congress, and protection from the British
government. He desired them to send proper persons to Amboy to
treat farther and engaged that a body of British troops was ready for
their escort. [See Sir Henry Clinton's letter to Lord George Germaine,
January, 1781.]

How far the conduct of Sir Henry Clinton is to be justified by the laws
of war, we leave to the decision of military characters; but to the
impartial spectator, though so often practiced by officers of
consideration and name, it appears an underhand interference,
beneath the character of a brave and generous commander, to
stimulate by those secret methods a discontented class of soldiers to
turn the points of their swords against their country and their former
friends.

But the intrigues of the British officers and the measures of their
commander in chief had not the smallest influence. The revolted line,
though dissatisfied and disgusted, appeared to have no inclination to
join the British army. They declared with one general voice that was
there an immediate necessity to call out the American forces, they
would still fight under the orders of the congressional officers.
Several British spies were detected, subtly employed in endeavoring
to increase the ferment, who were tried and executed with little
ceremony.

The prudent conduct of the commander in chief and the disposition

which appeared in government to do justice to their troops subdued
the spirit of mutiny. A respectable committee was sent from Congress
to hear their complains and as far as possible to relive their
sufferings. Those whose term of enlistment was expired were paid
off and discharged; the reasonable demands of other satisfied; and a
general pardon granted to the offenders, who returned cheerfully to
their duty.

The discontented and mutinous sprit of the troops was not, however,
entirely eradicated. The sources of disquietude in an army situated
like the present, were too many to suppress at once. They were
without pay, without clothing sufficient for the calls of nature; and not
satisfied with the assurances of future compensation, their murmurs
were too general, and their complaints loud and pressing.

The contagion of the mutinous example of the Pennsylvania line had

spread in some degree its dangerous influence over other parts of the
army. It operated more particularly on a part of the Jersey troops,
soon after the pacification of the disorderly Pennsylvania soldiers,
though not with equal success and impunity to themselves. They
were unexpectedly surrounded by a detachment from the main body
of the army and ordered to parade without their arms. On discovering
some reluctance to obey, Colonel Sprout of the Massachusetts
Division, as directed to advance with a party and demand their
compliance within five minutes. As their numbers were not sufficient
for resistance, they submitted without opposition. A few of the
principal leaders of the revolt were tried by a court martial and
adjudge

guilty. As a second general pardon, without any penal inflictions,

would have had a fatal effect on the army, two of them suffered death
for their mutinous conduct.

This example of severity put a period to every symptom of open revolt,

though not to the silent murmurs of the American army. They still felt
heavily the immediate inconveniences of the deficiency of almost
every article necessary to life. They had little subsistence and seldom
any covering, except what was forced from the adjacent inhabitants
by military power. These circumstances were aggravated by the little
prospect there still appeared of filling their battalions and establishing
a permanent army. Every evil had been enhanced and every
pleasing anticipation darkened by the general stagnation of paper
money, previous to the absolute death of such a ruinous medium of
intercourse between man and man. It had created suspicions and
apprehension in every mind and led everyone reluctantly to part with
their specie before they new the fate of a currency agonizing in the
last pangs of dissolution.

The successes at the northward had indeed given a spring to

expectation and action; but the gloomy appearances of affairs at the
southward, the ineffective movements in the central states, and the
perseverance of the King and the Parliament of Britain in their
measures against the colonies notwithstanding their recent
connection with a potent foreign power, wrapped in clouds of
uncertainty the final termination of the present conflict.

These were discouragement's that in theory might be thought

insurmountable. But American Independence was an object of too
great magnitude to sink under the temporary evils or the adventitious
circumstances of war.

That great source of moral turpitude, the circulating paper, which had
languished the last year until without sinew or never for any effective
purpose, died of itself in the present, without any visible wound,
except from the immense quantity counterfeited in New York, and
elsewhere under British influence. In a confidential letter to Lord
George Germaine about this time, General Clinton observed that "the
experiments suggested by Your Lordship have been tried. No
assistances that could be drawn from the power of gold or the arts of
counterfeiting have been left unattempted. But still the currency, like
the widow's cruise of oil, has not failed."

It is true, indeed, that he currency answered most of the purposes of

Congress, for some time after the date of the letter from which the
above extract is taken. When the paper ceased to circulate, no one
mourned or seemed to feel its loss; nor was it succeeded in any
stagnation of business or derangement of order. Everyone rejoiced
at the annihilation of such a deceptive medium, in full hope that
confidence between neighbor and neighbor, which this had
destroyed, would again be restored.

The immense heaps of paper trash, denominated money, which had

been ushered into existence from necessity, were from equal
necessity locked up in darkness, there to wait some renovating day to
reinstamp some degree of value, on what had deceived many into an
ideal opinion that they possessed property. It was not long after this
paper intercourse ceased before silver and gold appeared in
circulation, sufficient for a medium of trade and other purposes of
life. Much of it was brought from the hoarded bags of the miser, who
had concealed it in vaults instead of lending it to his distressed
countrymen; and much more of the precious metals were put into
circulation by the sums sent from Europe to support a British army in
captivity and for the pay of the fleets and troops of France, which
were sent forward to the assistance of the Americans.

Notwithstanding all the baneful evils of a currency of only a nominal

value, that fluctuates from day to day, it would have been impossible
for the colonies to have carried on a war in opposition to the power of
Great Britain without this paper substitute for real specie. They were
not opulent, though a competence had generally followed their
industry. There were few among themselves wealthy enough to loan
money for public purposes. Foreigners were long shy; and appeared
evidently reluctant at the idea of depositing their moneys in the hands
of a government with whom they had but recently commenced an
acquaintance.

France, indeed, after the Declaration of Independence, generously

lent of her treasures to support the claims of liberty and of the United
States against the strong hand of Britain. But Spain kept her fingers
on the strings of her purse, though, as observed above, America had
sent several agents to the Court of Madrid to solicit aid. Nor was it
until the year 1782 that even Holland opened hers to any effective
purpose, for the pecuniary calls that accumulated beneath the waste
of war, in which their sister republic was involved.

A few observations on the eventful transactions which took place

among the nations of Europe this year may here be properly
introduced, before a farther continuance of the narrative of the war.
This is necessary to give a clearer idea of the connection brought
forward between America and several foreign nations, besides
France and Spain, before the pride of Great Britain could condescend
to acknowledge the independence of the United Sates.

Previous to Lord Cornwallis's last campaign in America, most of the

belligerent powers in Europe had stood aloof, in a posture of
expectation, rather than immediate action, as waiting the events of
time to avail themselves of cooperation when convenient, with that
side that might offer the greatest advantage when weighed in the
political scale by which the interest of all nations is generally
balanced.

France had long since acknowledged the independence of America;

and the whole House of Bourbon now supported the claim of the
United States, though there had yet been no direct treaty between
America and Spain. It had been the general expectation for some
time before it took place that Spain would finally unite with France in
support of the American cause. From this expectation, the Spaniards
in South America had prepared themselves for a rupture, a
considerable time before any formal declaration of war had taken
place, between the Courts of Madrid and St. James. They were in
readiness to take the earliest advantage of such an event. They had
accordingly seized Pensacola in West Florida, and several British
posts on the Mississippi before the troops stationed there had any
intimation that hostilities were denounced in the usual style between
the Crowns of England and Spain.

Don Bernard de Galvez, Governor of Louisiana, had proclaimed the

independence of America at New Orleans a the head of all the forces
he could collect as early as August 19, 1779 and had proceeded
immediately to surprise and conquer wherever he could the
unguarded settlements claimed by the Crown of Britain. The British
navy, generally masters of the ocean, had, early after hostilities
commenced, beaten some of the Spanish ships, intercepted the
convoys, and captured or destroyed several of the homeward-bound
fleets of merchantmen. But by the time we are upon , the arms of
Spain had been successful in several enterprises by sea. At the Bay
of Honduras and in the West Indies, they also soon after gained
several other advantages of some moment.

Don Bernard de Galvez had concerted a plan with the governor of

Havana to surprise Mobile. He encountered storms, dangers,
disappointments, difficulties almost innumerable. This enterprising
Spaniard recovered, however, in some measure, his losses; and
receiving a reinforcement from Havana, with a part of the regiment of
Navarre, and some other auxiliaries, he repaired to, and landed near
Mobile. He summoned the garrison to surrender, who, after a short
defense, hung out a white flag, and a capitulation took place by which
he English garrison surrendered themselves prisoners of war.

In Europe, the war had been opened on the side of Spain, by the
siege of Gibraltar. This strong fortress had been closely invested by a
powerful fleet and army for some time. The piratical states of
Barbary, who, to the disgrace of Europe, were permitted to war upon,
or to make tributary all the nations, had been recently disgusted with
Great Britain; and such a defection had taken place that no relief
could be expected from that quarter, or any supplies of provisions
obtained from them for the garrison, which was reduced to such
distress that they were several weeks without bread, except a few
worm-eaten biscuits, sold at an enormous price: a guinea was
refused for a calf's head, a chicken sold for 9 shillings sterling, and
everything else proportionately scarce and dear; until the hardy
British veterans found they could subsist on the scanty allowance of a
jill or two or rice per day.

But by the unexampled intrepidity of General Elliot and the equal

bravery of Boyd, the second in command; by the courage and
perseverance of many gallant British officers and the spirit and
constitutional valor of their troops, the garrison was enabled to resist
and to hold out amid the distresses of famine and against the most
tremendous attack and bombardment that perhaps ever took place.
A prodigious number of cannon of the heaviest size, and a vast
apparatus of mortars, at once spouted their torrents of fire and
brimstone on that barren rock. With equal horror and sublimity, the
blaze was poured back by the besieged, with little intermission.

The sheets of flame were spread over the adjacent seas and the
shipping for three or four weeks; when the magnanimous officers in
the garrison, who had been for four days together without provisions
of any kind, except a few kernels of rice and a small quantity of moldy
bread, were relieved by the arrival of Admiral Rodney, on his way to
the West Indies. He was accompanied by a British fleet under the
command of Admiral Digby, who continued there with a number of
ships sufficient for defense and for the security of a large number of
Spanish prizes taken by Admiral Rodney. He had fallen in with a fleet
of 11 heavy ships of the line, commanded by Don Juan Langara, who
, after being dangerously wounded and his ship reduced to a wreck,
yielded to the superiority of the British flag, as did the San Julien,
commanded by the Marquis Modena, and indeed nearly the whole of
the Spanish fleet.

Notwithstanding the reduction of Gibraltar was suspended, w shall see

the object was not relinquished. More formidable exertions were
made the next year by the combined forces of France and Spain, for
the completion of this favorite project.

It was indeed some time after the accession of Spain before any other
European power explicitly acknowledged the independence of the
United States. But Mr. Izard, who as sent to Tuscany, and Mr. William
Lee to the Court of Vienna in 1778, inspired with that lively assurance
which is sometimes the pledge of success, had met with no
discouraging circumstances.

Holland had a still more difficult part to act than France, Spain, or
perhaps any other European power, who actually had adhered to or
appeared inclined to favor the cause of America. Her
embarrassments arose in part from existing treaties with Great
Britain, by which the latter claimed the Dutch Republic as their ally,
reproached her with ingratitude, and intimated that by former
engagements that republic was bound in all cases to act offensively
and defensively with the Court of Great Britain. Thus the measures of
the Batavian provinces were long impeded by the intrigues of the
British minister and the English faction at the Hague, before their high
mightinesses acceded to the acknowledgment of American
Independence.

We have seen above that the friendly disposition of the Batavians

towards America was such in the particular situation of both republics
as to render it at once rational and expedient for the American
Congress to send a public minister to reside at the Hague. Mr.
Laurens, as already related, was appointed, sent forward, captured
on his way, and detained for some time at Newfoundland. The
unfortunate capture of the American envoy prevented for a time all
public negotiations with Holland. He had been vested with
discretionary powers and had suitable instruction given him to enter
into private contracts and negotiations, as exigencies might offer, for
the interest of his country, until events were ripened for his full
admission as ambassador from the United Sates of America.
Mr. Laurens was captured at some leagues distance from
Newfoundland. When he found his own fate was inevitable, he
neglected no precaution to prevent the public papers in his
possession from falling into the hands of his enemies. The British
commander knew not the rank of his prisoner until the packages
seasonably thrown overboard by Mr. Laurens were recovered by a
British sailor who had the courage to plunge into the sea with so
much celerity as to prevent them from sinking.

By these papers a full discovery was made not only of the nature of
Mr. Laurens's commission, but of the dispositions of the Batavians to
aid the exertions beyond the Atlantic for the liberties of mankind.
Their own freedom was a prize for which their ancestors had
struggled for more than 70 years against the strong hand of
despotism, before they obtained the independence of their country.

In Mr. Laurens's trunk, thus recovered, was found a plan of a treaty of

alliance between the States of Holland and the United States of
America; also, letters from the pensioner of Amsterdam with many
communications and letters from the principal gentlemen and
merchants in that and many other cities in the Dutch provinces.

Admiral Edwards considered the capture of Mr. Laurens as so

important that he immediately ordered a frigate to England for the
conveyance of this gentleman, and the evidence of the commission
on which he had been sent out. These important papers received in
England, Sir Joseph Yorke, the British minister resident at the Hague,
was directed by the king his master to lay the whole of these
transactions before their high mightinesses the states-general of the
United Provinces.

The British minister complained loudly and in terms of high

resentment of the injuries and insults offered to Great Britain by the
ungrateful conduct of the Republic of Holland. He urged that secretly
supplying the rebellious colonies with the accouterments of war was a
step not to be forgiven; that what had been suspected before now
appeared clearly; and that he had the evidences in his hand and the
names of the principal conspirators; that the Belgian provinces were
countenancing public negotiations and on the point of executing
treaties of amity and commerce with the revolted Americans. He
informed the states-general that the King of England demanded
prompt satisfaction for these offenses; that as a proof of their
disavowal of these measures, he required immediate and exemplary
punishment to be inflicted on the pensioner Van Berkel and his
accomplices, as disturbers of the public peace and violators of the
law of nations.

Notwithstanding the resentment of the British envoy, the conduct of

the Dutch Court remained for some time so equivocal that neither
Great Britain nor America was fully satisfied with their
determinations. It is true, a treaty with the United States was for
some time postponed; but the answer of their high mightinesses to the
memorial and remonstrances of Sir Joseph Yorke not being
sufficiently condescending and decided, he disgust daily increased.
He informed his Court in very disadvantageous terms of the effect of
his repeated memorials, of the conduct of their high mightinesses,
and of that of the principal characters of the Batavian provinces at
large.

Great Britain soon after, in the recess of Parliament, amid all her other
difficulties, at war with France, Spain, and America, and left alone by
all the other powers of Europe to decide her own quarrels,
announced hostilities against the Netherlands; and a long manifesto
from the King was sent abroad in the latter part of December 1780.

A declaration of war against the Republic of Holland by the King of

Great Britain was very unpleasing to most of the northern powers.
The Baron Nolken, the Swedish ambassador resident at the Court of
London, remonstrated against it in a state paper in which he
observed "that the flame of war, kindled in another hemisphere, had
communicated to Europe. But the King of Sweden still flattered
himself that this conflagration would not extend beyond its first
founds; and particularly that a nation entirely commercial, which had
made neutrality the invariable foundation of its conduct, would not
have been enveloped in it; and yet, nevertheless, this has happened,
almost in the very moment when that power had entered in to the
most inoffensive engagements with the King and his two northern
allies.

"If the most exact impartiality that was ever observed could not
exempt the King from immediately feeling the inconveniences of war
by the considerable losses sustained by his commercial subjects, he
had much greater reason to apprehend the consequences when
those troubles were going to be extended; when an open war
between Great Britain and the Republic of Holland multiplied them;
and to conclude, when neutral commerce was about to endure new
shackles, by the hostilities committed between those two powers." He
added "The king could not but wish sincerely that the measures taken
by the Empress of Russia for extinguishing this new war in its
beginning might be crowned with the most perfect success."

But, indifferent to the remonstrances and memorials of the potentates

of Europe, Great Britain, hostile, wealthy, powerful, and proud,
appeared regardless of their resentment and ready to bid defiance,
and spread the waste of war among all nations.

The capture of Mr. Laurens was, however, no small embarrassment to

the British ministry. Their pride would not suffer them to recognize his
public character. They dared not condemn him as a rebel. The
independence of America was too far advanced, and there were too
many captured noblemen and officers in the United States to think of
such a step, lest immediate retaliation should be made. And his
business was found too consequential to admit of his release. He was
confined in the Tower, forbidden the use of pen, ink, and paper, and
all social intercourse with anyone; and was even interdicted any
converse with a young son, who had been several years in England
for his education.

There he suffered a long imprisonment at his own expense, until many

months had elapsed and many unexpected events had taken place,
that made it expedient to offer him his liberty without any equivalent.
This he refused to accept, from the feelings of honor, as Congress at
that time had offered General Burgoyne in exchange for Mr. Laurens.

The integrity of Mr. Laurens could not be warped either by flatteries or

menaces, though his health was much impaired by his severe and
incommodious confinement. It was intimated to him at a certain
period of his imprisonment that it might operate in his favor if he
would advise his son, Colonel John Laurens, to withdraw himself from
the Court of France, where he was then executing with success a
commission from Congress to negotiate a loan of money and solicit
farther aid both by sea and land in behalf of the American States.

The firmness of Mr. Laurens was not shaken by the proposal. He

replied with equal confidence, both in the affection of his son and the
delicacy of his honor. He observed that "such as the filial regard of
his son that he knew he would not hesitate to forfeit his life for his
father; but that no consideration would induce Colonel Laurens to
relinquish his honor, even were it possible for any circumstance to
prevail on his father to make the improper request."

Immediately after the new of Mr. Laurens's capture, imprisonment and

detention in England, the American Congress directed John Adams,
Esquire, who had a second time been sent to Europe in a public
character, to leave France and repair to Holland, there to transact
affairs with the states-general, which had before been entrusted to
the fidelity of Mr. Laurens. Mr. Adams's commission was enlarged.
From his confidence in his talents and integrity, he was vested with
ample powers for negotiation, for forming treaties of alliance,
commerce, or loan of moneys, for the United States of America. Not
fettered by instructions, we shall see he exercised his discretionary
powers with judgment and ability.

Thus in strict amity with France and Spain on the point of a treaty of
alliance with the Batavian Republic, Sweden and Denmark balancing,
and nearly determined on a connection with America, her foreign
relations, in general, wore a very favorable aspect.

The Empress of Russia only, among the European nations where an

intercourse was opened, refused peremptorily to receive any minister
at her court, under the authority of the Congress of the United States
of America. Overtures were made to the haughty sovereign of the
Russian Empire early enough to evince the high consideration in
which her arms and her character were viewed in America, as well as
in Europe; but without the least shadow of success. Determined to
maintain her independent dignity, and hold the neutral position she
had chosen, she did not even deign to see the person sent on by
Congress to act as agent at the Court of Petersburg; but she
concluded the business with the policy of the statesman, the address
of her sex, and the superiority of the Empress Catherine.

It was indeed doubted by many at time, whether Mr. Dana was

qualified to act as envoy at the Court of Russia, and negotiate with
such a potent state. He was undoubtedly a man of understanding,
with due share of professional knowledge, having been for several
years an attorney of eminence. But it was thought that he had not
either the address, the penetration, the knowledge of courts, or of the
human character necessary for a negotiator at the court of a despotic
female at the head of a nation of machines, under the absolute
control of herself and her favorites.

It requires equanimity of temper, as well as true greatness of soul, to

command or retain the respect of great statesmen and politicians.
Distinguished talents and a pleasing address were peculiarly
necessary for a negotiator at the Court of Russia, both from the
character of the nation and the monarch. The Russians were
sanguine and revengeful, and ready by their precipitate counsels to
aid their arbitrary mistress in their bold designs and despotic
mandates; while she, as the dictatress of Europe, determined the ruin
of princes, and the annihilation of kingdoms.

On the earliest notice of an application from the Congress of the

United States, the Empress, after several expressions of civility,
containing a respectful regard to the interests of the American states,
made all proper acknowledgments to them for the attention paid to
herself. She had before granted them the free navigation of the Baltic,
in spite of the remonstrances of the British minister resident at
Petersburg against it.

She, however, ordered her minister to inform the American envoy that
"as mediatrix with the Emperor of Germany and the King of Prussia
relative to the disputes subsisting between France, Spain, and Great
Britain, she thought it improper for her to acknowledge the
independence of America until the result of the mediation was known;
because the provisional articles depended on the definitive treaty."
That "when the latter was completed, she should be ready to proceed
in the business; but that it would be highly improper for her to treat
with America as an independent state, by virtue of powers or
credentials issued previous to the acknowledgment of American
independence by the King of Great Britain." That "her delicacy was a
law to her, not to take before that time a step which might not be
considered as corresponding with those which have characterized
her strict neutrality, during the course of the late war; notwithstanding
which the Empress repeats that you may enjoy not only for your own
honor, but also for your countrymen, who may come into her Empire
on commercial business, or otherwise, the most favorable

reception and the protection of the laws of nations."

This declaration placed the American agent in a very unpleasant

predicament; totally at a loss what further steps to take, not able to
obtain even an audience of the empress, he soon returned to
America. [It was a singular circumstance at the Court of the Empress
Catherine for any foreign minister or agent to be refused an interview
with Her Majesty. She had always, from pride, curiosity, or policy,
condescended to converse herself with strangers who visited her
court on public business.]

The failure of this negotiation might not be entirely owing to a want of

diplomatic skill or experience in the agent employed at the Court of
Russia. Though the choice of the congressional minister was
perhaps not so judicious as it might have been, many concurring
circumstances prevented his success. The intrigues of Britain, the
arts of France, and the profound policy of the Court of Petersburg
probably all combined to defeat a measure which, from the situation
of some of the belligerent powers, and the known character of the
Empress, could not rationally have been expected at that time to
meet the wishes of Congress. It was also suggested that the double-
dealings of some Americans of consideration had their weight in
frustrating the negotiation, and preventing a treaty between one of the
most distinguished and influential powers in Europe and the United
States of America.

The above is a summary sketch of the views, the dispositions, and

connections of the most important European powers, while the
maneuvers in Virginia and the other southern states were ripening
events which brought forward accommodations that no long after
terminated in a general pacification, among the nations at war. The
narration of naval transactions connected with or influential on
American affairs, both in the West Indies and in the European seas, is
postponed to a subsequent part of this work; while we proceed on
some further detail of military operations on land.

__________________
 Chapter Nineteen: General Gates surrenders the command of the
southern army to General Greene, on his arrival in South Carolina.
Action between General Sumpter and Colonel Tarleton. General
Morgan's expedition. Meet and defeats Colonel Tarleton. Lord
Cornwallis pursues General Morgan. Party of Americans cut off at the
Catawba. Lord Cornwallis arrives at Hillsborough. Calls by
proclamation on all the inhabitants of the state to join him. Battle of
Guilford. Americans defeated. Lord Cornwallis marches towards
Wilmington. General Greene pursues him. General Greene returns
towards Camden. Action at Camden. Lord Rawdon evacuates
Camden and returns to Charleston. Barbarous state of society among
the mountaineers, and in the back settlements of the Carolinas.
Attack on Ninety-Six. Repulse. General

Greene again obliged to retreat. Execution of Colonel Hayne. Lord

Rawdon leaves the state of South Carolina and embarks for England.
Action at the Eutaw Springs. General Greene retires to the high hills
of Santee. Governor Rutledge returns to South Carolina and
resumes the reins of government.

After the misfortune and suspension of General Gates, immediate

steps were taken by Congress and the commander in chief to restore
the reputation of the American arms, to check the progress of the
British, and defeat their sanguine hopes of speedily subduing the
southern colonies. Major General Greene was ordered on to take the
command in that quarter. He arrived about the middle of autumn,
1780, at the headquarters of General Gates; soon after which,
everything seemed to wear a more favorable appearance, with regard
to military arrangements and operations in the American army.

General Gates surrendered the command with a dignity and firmness

becoming his own character, conscious that his disappointment and
defeat did not originate in any want of courage or generalship, but
from the unavoidable and complicated difficulties of existing
circumstances. General Greene succeeded him, received the charge
of the army, and took leave of General Gates, with a delicacy and
propriety that evinced the high respect he felt for his predecessor.

All the prudence and magnanimity, valor and humanity that adorned
the character of General Greene were necessary in the choice of
difficulties that attended his new command. He had succeeded a
brae, but unfortunate officer whose troops were intimidated by recent
defeat, dispirited by their naked and destitute situation, in a country
unable to yield sufficient subsistence for one army and which had for
several months been ravaged by two.

Lord Cornwallis's army was much superior in number and discipline,

his troops were well clothed and regularly paid, and when General
Greene first arrived, they were flushed by recent successes,
particularly the defeat of General Gates. It is true, the death of Major
Ferguson and the route of his party was a serious disappointment,
but not of sufficient consequence to check the designs and
expectations of a British army commanded by officers of the first
military experience.

The inhabitants of the country were indeed divided in opinion; bitter,

rancorous, and cruel, and many of them without any fixed political
principles. Fluctuating and unstable, sometimes they were the
partisans of Britain, and huzzaed for royalty; at others, they were the
militia of the state in continental service, and professed themselves
zealots for American independence. But General Greene, with
remarkable coolness and intrepidity checked their licentious conduct
and punished desertion and treachery by necessary examples of
severity; and thus in a short time, he established a more regular
discipline.

Skirmishing parties pervaded all parts of the country. No one was

more active and busy in these scenes than the vigilant Tarleton. An
affray took place in the month of November between him and General
Sumpter. After victory had several times seemed to change sides,
the continental troops won the field without much loss. General
Sumpter was wounded, but not dangerously. The British lost in
wounded and killed, near 200.

The British troops had yet met with no check, which had in any degree
damped their ardor, except the defeat of Major Ferguson. The most
important movement which took place for some time after this affair
was an action between General Morgan on the one part, and Colonel
Tarleton on the other, in the month of January 1781. General Morgan
was an early volunteer in the American warfare. He had marched
from Virginia to Cambridge at the head of a body of riflemen to the aid
of General Washington in 1775. He continued to stand ready to enter
on the post of danger in any part of the continent where the defense
of his country required the assistance of the most valorous leaders.
General Greene, convinced that no man could more effectually
execute any command with which he was entrusted, ordered General
Morgan, with considerable force, to march to the western parts of
South Carolina.

Lord Cornwallis, having gained intelligence of this movement, dispatch

Colonel Tarleton in pursuit of General Morgan. In a few days, they
met near the River Pacolet. General Morgan had reason to expect,
from the rapid advance of Colonel Tarleton, that a meeting would
have taken place sooner; but by various maneuvers he kept his
troops at a distance, until a moment of advantage might present for
acting with decided success. The Americans had rather kept up the
appearance of retreat until they reached a spot called Cow-pens.
Fortunately for them, Tarleton came up, and a resolute engagement
ensured. When, after a short conflict, to the great joy of the
Americans, the British were routed, and totally defeated.

Colonel Tarleton, as one of the most resolute and active of the British
partisans, was particularly selected by Lord Cornwallis and ordered to
march with 1100 men to watch the motions of Morgan, impeded his
designs, and keep in awe the district of Ninety-Six, toward which he
found a detachment of the American army was moving. The
unexpected defeat of Tarleton for a time threw him into the
background in the opinion of many of the British officers; nor was
Lord Cornwallis himself much better satisfied with this conduct. [Sir
Henry Clinton observed afterwards, "that the unfortunate action at the
Cow-pens diminished Lord Cornwallis's army nearly one fourth." If
this was true, it must have been by desertion, or by a sudden
defection of the inhabitants of the state, who had previously aided
him.]

The name of Tarleton and his successes had so long been the terror
of one side and the triumph of the other that neither had calculated on
a derangement or defeat of his projects. But 300 of his men killed in
the action at Cow-pens, 500 captured and himself obliged to fly with
precipitation convinced the people that he was no longer invincible.
The militia of the country were inspirited, and many of them flocked
too the American standard who had heretofore been too much
intimidated to rally around it.

Colonel Tarleton was severely censured by the British officers for

suffering himself to be defeated with this advantages of discipline,
numbers, and everything else that in all human probability might have
insured him victory. They did not tax him with a want of personal
bravery; but some of them would not allow that he had talents for
anything superior to the requisites for "a captain of dragoons who
might skirmish and defeat in detail." However, he had certainly been
considered by most of them in a higher point of view before this
misfortune. But his flight and the loss of his light troops left a tarnish
on his military character that could not be easily wiped off or forgiven.
This loss of these light troops, so peculiarly necessary in the present
service, as felt through all the succeeding campaign. But Tarleton
soon recovered himself and returned from his flight. He appeared
within a day or two, not far from the ground from which he had been
beaten, and resumed his usual boldness and barbarity.
Tarleton's defeat was a blow entirely unexpected to Lord Cornwallis,
and induced him to march himself from Wynnesborough to the
Yadkin, in pursuit of General Morgan, with the hope of overtaking him
and recovering the prisoners. The British troops endured this long
and fatiguing march under every species of difficulty, over rivers,
swamps, marshes, and creeks, with uncommon resolution and
patience. What greatly enhanced their hardships and
inconveniences, the path of their route was, a Lord Cornwallis
expressed it, "though one of the most rebellious tracts in America."

General Greene, in hearing that His Lordship was in pursuit of

Morgan, left his post near the Pedee under the command of General
Huger, and, with great celerity, marched with a small party of friends
and domestics 150 miles and joined General Morgan before Lord
Cornwallis arrived at the Catawba. In the pursuit, Lord Cornwallis cut
off some of the small detachments, not in sufficient force for effectual
opposition. It is true, General Davidson made an unsuccessful stand
on the banks of the Catawba, with 300 or 400 men; but the British,
fording the river unexpectedly, he was himself killed, and his troops
dispersed; and the crossing the

river by the British army was no farther impeded.

General Greene had ordered the Colonels Huger and Williams, whom
he had left some days before at the Pedee, to join him with their
troops. However, it as but a very short time after this junction, before
General Greene had the highest reason to conclude that the safety of
his troops lay only in retreat. Nor was this accomplished but with the
utmost difficulty, as the way he was obliged to traverse was frequently
interrupted by steep ascents and unfordable rivers. But he
remarkably escaped a pursuing and powerful army, whose progress
was, fortunately for the Americans, checked by the same
impediments, and at much less favorable moments of arrival.
Though we do not assert a miracle was wrought on the occasion, it is
certain from good authority, [See General Greene's own letters, and
the letters of other officers.] that the freshets swelled and retarded the
passage of the British, while they seemed at times, to suspend their
rapidity in favor to the Americans; and the piety of General Greene in
several of his letters, attributed his remarkable escape and the
protection of his little army to the intervention of a superintending
Providence.

Thus after a flight and chase of 15 or 20 days, supported by the most

determined spirit and perseverance on both sides, General Greene
reached Guilford about the middle of February, where he ordered all
the troops he had left near the Pedee, under officers on whom he
could depend, to repair immediately to him.

Lord Cornwallis at or near the same time took post at Hillsborough

and there erected the royal standard. General Leslie had, according
to orders, left Virginia and marched further south. He had arrived at
Charleston about the middle of December. He, without delay,
marched with 1500 men, and soon overtook and joined Lord
Cornwallis, in the extreme part of the sate. He had found the British
commander immersed in cares, perplexity, and fatigue, endeavoring
with all his ability to restore by force the authority of his master,
among a people, the majority of whom, he soon found to his
mortification, were totally averse to the government and authority of
Great Britain. General Leslie continued with him until some time after
the Battle of Guilford, and by his bravery and activity was essentially
serviceable to the royal cause.

At Hillsborough, Lord Cornwallis, by proclamation, called on all the

faithful votaries to the Crown of Britain to repair immediately to his
camp with ten days provisions to assist in the full restoration of
constitutional government. Numbers from all parts of the country
listened anew to the invitations and threatenings of the British
commander and moved, with all possible dispatch, towards his camp.
But many of them fell on their way, by the fatal mistake of
misapprehending the characters and connections of the partisans
about them. It must be extremely difficult in a country rent in sunder
by civil feuds and in arms under different leaders of parties opposed
to each other to know at once in the hurry and confusion of crossing
and recrossing to join their friends, whether they were not encircled
by their enemies.

Tarleton himself had sometimes mistaken his own partisans for the
friends of Congress. Thus many of the royalists, as they were
hastening to take protection under the banners of their King, were cut
down by the same hand that spread slaughter and desolation among
the opposers of the Monarch. Many unfortunate victims of the sword
drew destruction upon themselves by similar mistakes. An instance of
this, among others shocking to the feelings of humanity, was the
massacre of 300 or 400 of this description of persons headed by a
Colonel Pyles. They accidentally fell in the way of a continental
detachment, commanded by General Pickens. The royalists,
mistaking the republicans for Tarleton and his party, whom Pickens
was pursuing, they acknowledge themselves as subjects of the
Crown, made a merit of their advance, and called on Colonel Tarleton
as their leader; nor were they undeceived but by the blow that
deprived them of life. It is indeed to be much lamented that they were
treated with as little mercy, and all cut down with equal cruelty, to any
that had been experienced by the Americans from the most
remorseless of their foes.

While in this state of confusion and depredation through the whole

country, General Greene and Lord Cornwallis lay at no great distance
from each other; but Greene kept his position as much as possible
concealed, as he was not yet in a situation to venture a decisive
action; and though he was obliged to move earlier towards the British
encampment, no engagement took place until about the middle of
March. In the mean time, by his ability and address, he eluded the
vigilance of his enemies and kept himself secure by a continual
change of posts, until strengthened by fresh reinforcements of the
North Carolina and Virginia militia. The few continental troops he had
with him, joined by these, and a number of volunteers from the
interior mountainous tracts of the western wilderness induced him to
think he might risk a general action.

On March 15, the two armies met at Guilford and seemed, at first, to
engage with equal ardor; but, as usual, the raw militia were
intimidated by the valor and discipline of the British veterans. Almost
the whole corps of Carolinians threw down their arms and fled, many
of them without even once discharging their firelocks. This, of
course, deranged the American army; yet they supported the action
with great spirit and bravery for an hour and a half, when they were
entirely broken, and obliged to retreat with the utmost precipitation.
Both armies suffered much by the loss of many gallant officers and a
considerable number of men.

Lord Cornwallis kept the field and claimed a complete victory; but the
subsequent transactions discovered that the balance of real
advantage lay on the other side. His Lordship, immediately after the
action at Guilford, proclaimed pardon and protection to all the
inhabitants of the country on proper submission; yet at the same time,
he found it necessary to quit his present ground. He had previously
taken the determination, to try the success of British arms in North
Carolina and Virginia. He formed this resolution early; and would
have prosecuted it immediately after Ferguson's defeat, in October,
1778, had he not been detained by sickness. After his recovery, he
pursued the design; and for this purpose had ordered General Leslie
to leave Virginia, who (as has been observed) joined him with a large
detachment of troops, about mid-winter. His Lordship, however,
thought proper still to postpone his original design, with the hope of
bringing General Greene to a decided action, and thereby more firmly
uniting the inhabitants of the country to the royal cause.

After the action at Guilford, and the dispersion of the American troops,
Lord Cornwallis found it difficult to procure forage and provisions
sufficient for the subsistence of his army. He left the late field of
action, and moved onwards a few miles, an halted at Bell's Mills,
where he stayed two days, and gave the troops a small supply of
provisions. From thence, he moved slowly, on account of his sick and
wounded, to Cross Creek.

It appears by his own letter to Lord George Germaine that he had

intended to continue thereabouts for some short time; but a variety of
disappointments that occurred induced him to alter his resolution. In
this letter, he observes, "From all my information, I intended to have
halted at Cross Creek as a proper place to refresh and refit the
troops; and I was much disappointed on my arrival there to find it
totally impossible. Provisions were scarce; not four days forage
within 20 miles; and to us, the navigation of the Cape Fear River to
Wilmington impracticable, for the distance by water if upwards of 100
miles. Under these circumstances, I was obliged to continue my
march to this place." [See Earl Cornwallis's letter to Lord George
Germaine, dated Wilmington, April 18, 1781.]

Lord Cornwallis, having decamped from the neighborhood of his late

military operations, marched with all possible expedition toward the
more eastern parts of North Carolina. He found many difficulties on
his way, but pursued his route with great

perseverance, as did his army. They cheerfully sustained the severest

fatigue; but as they had frequently done before, they marked their
way with the slaughter of the active, and the blood of the innocent
inhabitants, through a territory of many hundred miles in extend from
Charleston to Yorktown. It was afterwards computed that 1400
widows were made during the year's campaign, only in the single
district of Ninety-Six. [General Green's letters authenticate this fact.]

After the defeat at Guilford, General Greene availed himself of his

religious opinions to obtain relief and assistance from the neighboring
country. He had been educated in the Quaker denomination of
Christians, but not too scrupulously attached to their tenets to take
arms in defense of American liberty. The inhabitants in the vicinity of
both armies generally belonged to that sect. In the distress of the
retreating army, he called them out to exercises of that benevolence
and charity of which they make the highest professions. He wrote
and reminded them that though they could not conscientiously,
consistently with the principles they professed, gird on the sword for
the usual operations of war, yet nothing could excuse them from the
exercise of compassion and assistance to the sick and wounded; to
this they were exhorted by their principles; and an ample field was
now displayed to evince their sincerity by every charitable act.

His letters were more influential on this mild and unoffending body of
people than the proclamations of Lord Cornwallis. They united to
take care of the sick, to dress the wounded, and make collections of
provisions for the relief of the flying army. This was a very essential
advantage to General Greene, whose confidence in the simplicity and
kindness of this body of people relieved him from any anxiety and
embarrassment, relative to the sick and wounded he was obliged to
leave behind.

Their example probably had an influence on others of different

denominations and indeed on most of the people in the circumjacent
villages, whom we shall soon see quitting the royal standard and
following the fortune of the routed commander and his army,
notwithstanding the high hopes which had been entertained for a short
time by the British that this defeat would put an end to any other
effective operations of the rebel General Greene, as they style him in
their letters.

In consequence of the action of Guilford, General Greene had to

lament the loss of several valuable officers, among whom were the
Generals Stephens and Huger, dangerously wounded. But those
who were faithful to the service, on principles of supporting the
general liberties of their country, lost no part of their vigor or fortitude
under the sharpest disappointments and misfortunes, but raised anew
and set their hardy faces against the most adverse circumstances
that might arise in the dangerous and uncertain conflict.

This, General Greene attested in all his letters. Yet the ignorance of
the people in general, the little knowledge they had of the principles
of the contest, the want of stable principles of any kind among the
generality of the inhabitants, rendered dependence on their fidelity
very uncertain, on both sides, the question, and put it beyond the
calculation on events, as neither the British nor American
commanders could make an accurate statement of the numbers from
day to day that belonged to their own army. Self-preservation often
led both parties to deception; and the danger of the moment
sometimes more than the turpitude of the heart prompted them to act
under disguise.

The letters and accounts of all the general officers on both sides of the
question portray these difficulties in a style and manner more
descriptive than can be done by anyone who did not fee l he
complicated miseries which involved both armies and the inhabitants
of the Carolinas at this period. To them, the reader is referred, while
we yet follow the American commander through perplexity,
embarrassment, and fatigue, too complex for description.

After the defeat of Guilford, General Greene was far from being
discouraged or intimidated by the victorious triumph of his enemies.
He retreated with a steady step and retired only ten or fifteen miles
from the scene of the late action. He had every reason to expect a
second rencounter with the British army, who boasted that their
victory was complete, though it was acknowledged by Lord Cornwallis
that the action at Guilford was the bloodiest that had taken place
during the war. [See Lord Cornwallis's letter to Sir Henry Clinton in
Clinton's Narrative, p. 9.] Yet when Lord Cornwallis withdrew from the
late scene of action, it did not appear so much the result of a
systematic design of an able general, as it did that of the retreat of a
conquered army.
This, with other circumstances, induced General Greene, after he had
collected most of his scattered troops, to follow His Lordship rather
than to fly further. The inhabitants of the country (singular as it may
appear) from this time more generally flocked to the camp of the
defeated than to that of the conquering general. A more thorough
disaffection to British government hourly appeared and a more
impressive alarm from the apprehensions of subjugation seemed to
discover itself from the day of the retreat at Guilford. Number from all
quarters came forward; and General Greene soon found himself in a
situation to pursue in his turn.

He accordingly followed the British army through cross roads and

difficult paths for about ten days; when finding His Lordship declined
meeting him again and that by the rapidity of his movements their
distance widened, General Greene thought it best to halt and not
further attempt to impede the route of the British commander toward
Wilmington; and prepared himself to prosecute his previous design of
relieving the sate of South Carolina, without further delay.

Within a few days, he began his march toward Camden, the

headquarters of Lord Rawdon, on whom the command had devolved
and who was there encamped with only 900 men. General Greene's
approach was rather unexpected to Rawdon; but by a sudden and
judicious advance, he fell on the Americans before they were in
readiness for his reception. Notwithstanding this sudden attack, which
took place on April 25, General Greene, always cool and collected,
sustained a severe conflict with his usual intrepidity; but was again
obliged to retreat, thought his numbers were superior. Yet he
observed about this time that he was not so amply supported as he
might have expected by aids from Virginia, Maryland, or elsewhere;
and that in North Carolina such was the fluctuation of opinion, the
operation of fear, and a too general want of principle that he could not
place the strongest confidence in many who accompanied him.

Lord Rawdon attempted soon after to bring General Greene to a

second engagement; but he too well understood the advantages he
might gain by declining it. The consequences justified his conduct; as
Lord Rawdon, in a few days after the action at Camden, burnt many
of the mills, adjacent private houses, and other buildings, and
evacuated the post and moved toward Charleston, where he judged
his presence was more immediately necessary. This sudden
evacuation of Camden inspirited the Continentals and inspired them
with a dangerous enthusiasm that for a time could not be resisted.
The banks of the rivers and the country were scourged by various
partisans, in pursuit of forage and provisions, which were generally
secured by the Americans, after skirmishing and fighting their way
through small parties of the enemy, too weak for successful
opposition.

Sumpter, Marion, and other leaders, General Greene observed "have

people who adhere to them and appear closely attached; yet,
perhaps more from a desire and the opportunity of plundering than
from an inclination to promote the independence of the United
States." General Greene was attached and supported by many brave,
humane, and valiant officers in his peregrinations through the
Carolinas, but their followers were generally licentious beyond
description. This sometimes impelled him to severities that wounded
the feeling of the man, though necessary in the discipline of an army.

A detail of all the smaller rencounters that took place in this hostile
period in both the Carolinas, might fatigue more than it would gratify
the humane or inquisitive mind. It is enough to observe that the
Americans, under various leaders and some capital commanders
were continually attacking, with alternate success and defeat, the
chain of British posts planted from Camden to Ninety-Six; and as
General Greene himself expressed his sentiments in their
embarrassed situation, "We fight, get beaten, rise, and fight again:
the whole country is one continued scene of slaughter an blood. This
country may struggle a little longer; but unless they have more
effectual support, they must fall." [General Greene's letter to the
Chevalier de la Luzerne.]
It is to be lamented that very many in this day of general distress
suffered themselves to be governed either by vindictive passions or
their feelings of resentment for personal injuries. Many took
advantage of public confusion to gratify, if not to justify, their own
private revenge, a stronger stimulus with some, than any public or
political principle. Besides these, there were numbers who seemed to
enlist under the banners of liberty with no views but those of rapine,
assassination, and robbery; and after they had for a time rioted in the
indulgence of those infernal passions, they frequently deserted and
repaired to the British camp and renewed each scene of villainy
against the party they had just left. They were indeed well calculated
to become instruments in the hands of the British officers, to
perpetrate the cruelties they were too much disposed to inflict on the
steady adherents to the American cause. Thus, whether they
pretended to be the partisans of the one side or the other, rapacity
and violence raged among a fierce people, little accustomed to the
restraints of law and subordination.

The manners of the mountaineers and borderers of the Carolinas,

exemplified too strongly the native ferocity of man. Though
descended from civilized ancestors, it cannot be denied that when for
a length of time, a people have been used to the modes of savage life
common to the rude stages of society, not feeling themselves
restrained by penal laws, nor under the influence of reason or
religion, nor yet impressed by apprehensions of disgrace, they sink
into the habits of savages, and appear scarce a grade above the
brutal race. Thus it required a very severe military discipline to
reduce to order the rude peasantry that poured down from the
mountains and collected from the most rough, uncultivated parts of
the country.

Dissension, mutiny, robbery, and murder spread to an alarming

degree. There were too many instances of villainy and barbarity to
render it necessary to adduce more than a single fact, that may
convey an idea of the hazard of life without the risk of battle. We
mention therefore only the death of a Colonel Grierson, a
distinguished loyalist, because this circumstance is particularly
noticed by the commanders of both armies. This gentleman was shot
by an unknown hand, after he had surrendered his arms to the
Americans. Great exertion was made to discover the perpetrator of
this cruel deed. General Greene offered a reward of 100 guineas for
the detection of the murderer, but without effect. Private assassination
had become too familiar a crime in that hostile country for the
perpetrators to betray each other.

Perhaps few officers could have extricated themselves and recovered

from the unforeseen embarrassments that attended him through the
southern campaign with the facility, judgment, and perseverance that
marked the conduct of the American commander in the Carolinas. His
mind was replete with resources in the greatest difficulties, and his
resolution equal to the severest enterprise. While the humanity of his
disposition led him to soften as much as possible the horrors of war,
the placidity of his manners engaged the affections of his friends and
the esteem and respect of his enemies. Yet he was obliged to make
some severe examples of atrocious characters and to punish by
death several who were detected under the description of deserters
and assassins.

After the action at Camden, Marion, Peckens, and Lee, with their
partisans, attacked and carried a number of small forts in the district
of Ninety-Six, with little or no effectual opposition, until they crossed
the Santee, and attacked Fort Cornwallis, commanded by Colonel
Brown, who defended it with great spirit and gallantry. As the
Americans approached, the British garrison, for their own better
security, nearly covered themselves under ground. They obstinately
refused to surrender until every man who attempted to fire on the
besiegers was instantly shot down; but after a siege of 12 or 14 days,
the fort, with about 300 men, was surrendered by capitulation.

Brown had been so barbarous and ferocious as a partisan that he was

hourly apprehensive of meeting with summary vengeance from the
hands of some of those who had suffered, either in their persons or
their friends. Many he had murdered in cold blood; others he had
cruelly delivered into the hands of the savages to suffer longer
torture. But the victor, feeling compassion for individual suffering, sent
him under an escort for this better security, to Savannah. Without this
indulgence, he must have fallen an immediate sacrifice, as he had to
pass through the long tract of country where he had been active in
perpetrating the severest cruelties, accompanied by a number of
loyalists, between whom and the adherents to the American cause,
there raged such an infernal spirit of bitterness that extermination
seemed be equally the wish of both parties.

The leaders of the American partisans were frequently checked by the

humane advice of General Greene. He exhorted them that it was
more their duty by their lenity to induce those in opposition to unite
with them in supporting the cause of freedom than it was to aim at
their extermination. In a letter to Pickens he observed that "the
principles of humanity as well as policy required that proper measures
should be immediately taken to restrain abuses, heal differences and
unite the people as much as possible."

While these desultory excursions were kept up, General Greene was
endeavoring to concentrate his forces for the prosecution of more
important objects. Many occurrences had redounded much to his
honor, though some of them were unfortunate. But his misfortunes
did not impair his military reputation; nor was his courage or ability
called in question on his assault on Ninety-Six, though it did not
terminate agreeably to his hopes. The garrison as defended with the
greatest spirit and ability by Lieutenant Colonel Cruger. They
sustained a siege with almost unexampled bravery, from May 24 to
June 18.

Notwithstanding the valor of the British troops and the fortitude of their
commander, they were reduced to the point of surrender, when by the
address of an American lady, prompted by a laudable affection for her
husband, a British officer within the garrison, she found means to
convey a letter to Colonel Cruger, with the pleasing intelligence that if
they could hold out a short time longer, their deliverance might be
certain; that reinforcements were at hand; that Lord Rawdon was
marching to their relief with 2000 fresh troops who had arrived within
seven days from Ireland.

It was happy for General Greene that he obtained early information

that this strong body was on their way and was hourly expected by
his antagonists; but it was very affecting to the feelings of honor,
patriotism, or pride to find himself obliged to raise the siege, almost in
the moment of victory, and to retreat with precipitation from a spot
where but a day before he had reason to flatter himself he should reap
the laurels of conquest. This unexpected turn of affairs was truly
distressing to the American commander. It was painful and
humiliating to be compelled again to fly before a pursuing enemy, to
the extreme parts of a country he had recently trodden over with so
much fatigue and peril.

Some of his associates were so much disheartened by the untoward

circumstances of the campaign that they advised him to fly from
Carolina and to endeavor to save himself and the remainder of his
troops by retreating to Virginia. To this advice, General Greene
replied in the laconic style of the Spartan, with the spirit of a Roman,
and the enthusiasm of an American, "I will recover this country or
perish in the attempt." His subsequent conduct and success justified
his noble resolution. He soon collected the militia from the distant
parts of the state, called in his detachments, and inspirited his troops
so far as to recover his usual confidence in them. This encouraged
him to offer battle to Lord Rawdon on July 12.

His Lordship, strongly posted at Orangeburg, and strengthened by

additional troops from several quarters, declined the challenge. This
was not because he did not think himself in sufficient force to accept
it. He had previously determined to return to Charleston as soon as
circumstances would permit. His presence was there necessary, not
only on account of military arrangements, but from the confusion and
disorder of civil affairs, the animosities of the citizens of different
descriptions, the insolence of the loyalists, and the complaints of
those who had been compelled to a temporary submission.

When Lord Rawdon withdrew from Orangeburg, he left a sufficient

number of troops for its defense; and making due arrangements for
the security of other posts, he hastened to Charleston. On this,
General Greene detached a part of his own army to march towards
the capital, and returned himself with the remainder and took post on
the heights near the Santee. From thence, he continually harassed
the British by small parties, who alternately returned these
aggressions. Skirmish and defeat, plunder, slaughter, and
devastation were everywhere displayed, from the extremity of the
country to the environs of the city. Several weeks elapsed before the
operations of either army were more concentrated.

While the military operations against the Americans were vigorously

pursued without, the devoted city of Charleston suffered misery
beyond description within. Severity, cruelty, and despair raged for a
time without check or control. A single instance of inhumanity, in the
sacrifice of one of the victims of their resentment will be sufficient to
evince the rigor and impolicy of British measures. The execution of
Colonel Hayne will leave a stain on the character of Lord Rawdon,
without exhibiting any other proofs of barbarous severity.

This gentleman had been a distinguished and very active officer in the
American service previous to the subjugation of Charleston. When
this event took place, he found himself called to a separation from his
family, a dereliction of his property, and submission to the conqueror.
In this situation, he thought it his duty to become a voluntary prisoner,
and take his parole. On surrendering himself, he offered to engage
and stand bound on the principles of honor to do nothing prejudicial
to the British interest until he was exchanged; but his abilities and his
services were of such consideration to this country that he was
refused a parole and told he must become a British subject or submit
to close confinement.

His family was then in a distant part of the country and in great
distress by sickness and from the ravages of the loyalists in their
neighborhood. Thus he seemed impelled to acknowledge himself a
subject of a government he had relinquished from the purest
principles, or renounce his tenderest connections and leave them
without a possibility of his assistance, and at a moment when he
hourly expected to hear of the death of an affectionate wife, ill of the
small pox.

In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a declaration of his allegiance to

the King of Great Britain, with this express exception, that he should
never be required to take arms against his country. Notwithstanding
this, he was soon and repeatedly called upon to arm in support of a
government he detested or to submit to the severest punishment.
Brigadier General Patterson, commandant of the garrison and the
intendant of the British police, a Mr. Simpson, had both assured
Colonel Hayne that no such thing would be required; and added "that
when the royal army could not defend a country without the aid of its
inhabitants, it would be time to quit it." [See a representation of
Colonel Hayne's case laid before Congress after his death.]

Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in British service after

assurances that this would never be required, as a breach of
contract, and a release in the eye of conscience from any obligation
on his part. Accordingly, he took the first opportunity of resuming his
arms as an American, assumed the command of his own regiment;
and all fond of their former commander, Colonel Hayne marched with
a defensible body to the relief of his countrymen, then endeavoring to
drive the British partisans and keep them within the environs of
Charleston. He very unfortunately, in a short time, fell into the hands
of a strong British party, sent out for the recovery of a favorite officer,
[This was a General Williamson, captured within seven miles of the
city, by a small reconnoitering party sent out by Colonel Hayne.] who
had left the American cause and become a devotee to British
government.

As soon as Colonel Hayne was captured, he was closely imprisoned.

This was on July 26. He was notified the same day that a court of
officers would assemble the next day to determine in what point of
view he ought to be considered. On the 29th, he was informed that in
consequence of a court of inquiry held the day before, Lord Rawdon
and Lieutenant Colonel Balfour had resolved upon his execution
within two days.

His astonishment at these summary and illegal proceedings can

scarcely be conceived. He wrote Lord Rawdon that he had no
intimation of anything more than a court of inquiry to determine
whether he should be considered as an American or a British subject.
If the first, he ought to be set at liberty on parole. If the last, he
claimed a legal trial. He assured his Lordship that on a trial he had
many things to urge in his defense; reasons that would be weighty in
a court of equity; and concluded his letter with observing, "If, sir, I am
refused this favor, which I cannot conceive from your justice or
humanity, I earnestly entreat that my execution may be deferred; that
I may at least take a last farewell of my children, and prepare for the
solemn change." [See a more full account of the treatment of Colonel
Hayne in his own papers, afterwards presented to Congress.]

But his death predetermined, his enemies were deaf to the voice of
compassion. The execution of his sentence was hastened, though
the reputation and merits of this gentleman were such that the whole
city was zealous for his reservation. Not only the inhabitants in
opposition to British government, but even Lieutenant Governor Bull,
at the head of the royalists, interceded for his life. The principal lades
of Charleston endeavored, by their compassionate interference, to
arrest or influence the relentless hand of power. They drew up and
presented to Lord Rawdon a delicate and pathetic petition in his
behalf. His near relations, and this children, who had just performed
the funeral rites over the grave of a tender mother, appeared on their
bended knees to implore the life of their father. But in spite of the
supplications of children and friends, strangers and foes, the flinty
heart of Lord Rawdon remained untouched, amid these scenes of
sensibility and distress. No amelioration of the sentence could be
obtained. And this affectionate father took a final leave of his children
in a manner that pierced the souls of the beholders. To the eldest of
them, a

youth of but 13 years of age, he delivered a transcript of his case,

directed him to convey it to Congress, and ordered him to see that his
father's remains were deposited in the tomb of his ancestors.

Pinioned like a criminal, this worthy citizen walked with composure

through crowds of admiring spectators, with the dignity of a
philosopher, and the intrepidity of the Christian. He suffered as a
hero, and was hanged as a felon, amid the tears of the multitude, and
the curses of thousands, who execrated the perpetrators of this cruel
deed.

Soon after this transaction, Lord Rawdon, on account of the broken

state of his health, obtained leave to repair to England. Captured on
his passage by the Count de Graffe, he was detained a short time.
But soon after his arrival on the shores of Great Britain, his singular
treatment of Colonel Hayne was the topic of every conversation; and
it was proved to have been so pointedly severe as to be thought
worthy of parliamentary discussion. The strictures of the Duke of
Richmond thereon were pointed with severity. He thought the dignity
and humanity of the nation called loudly for a court of inquiry on high-
handed executions, without trial, or any opportunity given for legal
defense.
This motion, however, was productive of no consequences, except the
ebullitions of Lord Rawdon's resentment; who, it was observed,
conducted more with the violence of a soldier of untutored manners
that with the urbanity or politeness of the gentleman. He wrote to the
noble Duke in high and offensive language, little if anything short of a
direct challenge; but His Grace did not deign to think himself
accountable to an individual for defending the principles of equity and
the cause of the injured, in the freedom of parliamentary debate and
investigation.

After Lord Rawdon had taken leave of America, and embarked for
England, the command of the British army in Charleston devolved on
Colonel Balfour. This officer, though a brave man, as not
distinguished for his humanity; nor did he seem more disposed, on a
new acquisition of power, to soften the rigors of war than his
predecessors in command.

It had, previous to the present period, appeared by the letters of

Colonel Balfour, that his apprehensions relative to the southern
campaign and the termination of the war had been clouded to a
considerable degree. He had written to Sir Henry Clinton on May 6
that "their situation was exceedingly distressing and dreadful,
notwithstanding Lord Rawdon' brilliant successes; that the enemy's
parties were everywhere; that the communication with Savannah by
land as everywhere cut off; that the Colonels Brown, Cruger, and
others, at different important posts, were in the most critical situation."
He added in the same letter, "Indeed I should betray the duty I owe
Your Excellency, did I not represent the defection of this province so
universal, that I know of no mode, short of depopulation, to retain it.
The spirit of revolt is kept up by the many officers, prisoners of war. I
should therefore think it advisable to remove them, a well a to make
some striking examples of such as had been protections, yet snatch
every occasion to rise in arms against us."

Whether Colonel Balfour wished to be the executioner of this cruel

policy or not, he justified it in his answer to General Greene, who
demanded the reason of Hayne's execution. Balfour replied that it
took place by the joint orders of Lord Rawdon and himself, in
consequence of Lord Cornwallis's directions, to put every man to
death who might be found in arms, if he had been received as a
subject of Great Britain, after the capitulation of Charleston in 1780.

General Greene threatened retaliation; but his humanity led him to the
suspension of such severities, though he felt wounded at the
treatment of a person of such real merit as Colonel Hayne, and the
premature stroke that robbed his country and his family of this brave ,
unfortunate man. He pointedly criminated the authors of his death,
as acting an unjust, inhumane, and an illegal part. In a letter to
Colonel Balfour, he observed that he was happy for the honor of
Colonel Hayne that nothing could be found against him to warrant his
execution, but "the order of Lord Cornwallis, given in the hour of
victory, when he considered the lives, liberties, and property of the
people prostrate at his feet. But I confess I cannot repress my
astonishment that you and Lord Rawdon should give such an
extraordinary example of severity on the authority of that order, under
such a change of circumstances, so long after it had been
remonstrated against by myself in a letter to Lord Cornwallis. In
informed His Lordship that his orders were cruel and unprecedented;
and that he might expect retaliation from the friends of the
unfortunate." [General Greene's letters to Lord Cornwallis and
Colonel Balfour, in his dispatches to Congress at the time.]

Indeed it was the universal voice that the conduct of Rawdon and
Balfour in this affair could be justified by no law, civil or military, and
was totally repugnant to the spirit of humanity or to divine injunctions.
General Greene declared in the most solemn manner that he had
never authorized or countenanced executions on such principles;
that he had done all in his power to soften resentment, to conciliate
the inhabitants of different descriptions, and to prevent as much as
possible all private assassinations which had too frequently taken
place in spite of discipline or humanity; and that he sanctioned no
public executions, but for the crimes of desertion and murder; crimes
which by no construction could be charged on Colonel Hayne.

But the death of this worthy man, the victim of resentment, was not
avenged by retaliation, as threatened. It was postponed from the
humanity and generosity of the American commander, as well as
from the uncertainty of all human events, and the impossibility of
calculating from the changes of war, which party might be the
greatest sufferers, by a determined spirit of retaliation and execution
on both sides.

Fierce rencounters were still kept up between the British detachments

posted on advantageous heights, and on the banks of deep and
unfordable rivers which intersected each other, and the hardy
chieftains who led the Carolinian bands, over mountains, declivities,
swamps, and rivers, to the vicinity of the city. Thence they were often
obliged to retreat back from the borders of civilization and softer
habitations, again to seek safety in the dreary wilderness, to which
they were pursued by their enemies, who were sometimes repelled,
at other successful in cutting off the little parties of Americans; until
the British, wearied of the mutual interchange of hostilities without
decision, drew in their cantonments, and took post about the
beginning of September, at the Eutaw Springs, which were situated a
the distance of only 50 miles from Charleston.

General Greene had, when near the waters of the Congaree, while
they were separated at the distance of only 15 miles, attempted to
bring them to a closer engagement; but there appeared at that time
no inclination in the British to meet him. He found they were about to
take a new position. This induced him to follow them by a circuitous
march of 70 or 80 miles. Desultory skirmishes continued during the
month of August; but on September 8, General Greene again renewed
his challenge, fought and obtained an advantage that was an over-
balance for the many successless rencounters that had long kept the
public mind in suspense and apprehension, and Green's army in such
a continual fluctuation that there was no calculating its numbers or its
strength from day to day.

General Greene advanced to the Springs, where the main body of the
British troops were collected. He had with him about 2000 men; but
these were commanded by some of the best officers. They attacked
and routed the British encampment. The action was severe. Great
numbers of the British officers and soldiers were either slain or
captured. Yet the Americans suffered so much that Colonel Stuart,
the British commander, claimed the advantage. Indeed, General
Greene suffered the loss of many brave soldiers, and some very
valuable officers. A Colonel Campbell of Virginia fell toward the
termination of the action, and had time after the mortal wound only to
observe that "as the British fled, he died contented."

Colonel Stuart wrote Sir Henry Clinton a detail of the affair, in the
pompous style of victory; but notwithstanding, he arrogated so much
on the occasion, the action at the Eutaw Springs put a period to all
farther offensive operation in that quarter. And the British troops after
this seldom ventured far beyond the boundaries of Charleston.
Besides the numbers slain in this action, 400 or 500 of the British
troops were made prisoners of war. The Americans suffered equally,
and perhaps in greater proportion tot heir numbers than the British.
Not less than 500 men and upwards of 60 officers were killed or
captured, besides the wounded. After this action, General Greene
retired again for a time to the heights bordering on the River Santee.

A new face to affairs now soon appeared in the city. The royal army
had been so much reduced by the vigilance and activity of General
Greene that what had been denominated by some writer a re-action
of events, began to operate. The British adherents to monarchy in
Charleston, and the power and influence of royal government, were in
a short time brought very low. Consequently, the sufferings of those
who had triumphed in the depression and subjugation of their
countrymen were felt with almost equal rigor and severity to that
which had been inflicted on the opposers of British authority, when
their commanders in all the insolence of conquest, contemplated the
certainty of the subjugation of the southern states.

Governor Rutledge had left the state of South Carolina and repaired to
Philadelphia, after the surrender of Charleston. He now returned and
reaffirmed the reins of government. Soon after his arrival in his native
state, the Governor published a proclamation offering pardon, on
certain conditions, to all who had been aiding the British service,
except such as had signed addresses, and voluntarily taken
commissions to support the arms and authority of Great Britain.

The injunctions contained in this proclamation, dated September 27,

were rigorously executed. All those who were implicated as opposed
either in principle or practice to the interests or to the arm of their won
country, felt heavily the reverse of a change of masters. The
Governor, feeling not only the miseries in which has native state had
been so long involved, but the highest indignation at the treatment
received by individuals and the inflictions imposed on many by the
severity of Rawdon and Balfour, suffered his resentment to fall
indiscriminately on all the partisans of royalty.

Many who had reaped the sweets of changing with the times, by
availing themselves of the property of those who had fled, were now
compelled by the Governor to fly from their agreeable plantations.
This description of people had seized the villas of those who had
taken their standard under congressional protection, rather than
relinquish their independence by becoming subjects of the King of
England.

They had occupied without the city the best accommodated situations
which had before belonged to the captured or exiled inhabitants, who
had opposed the British invasion. This class of persons were now
reduced to the necessity of removing into a town still occupied by
foreign troops. Driven into the city, and shut up with their families in
inconvenient huts, the reverse of the easy accommodations to which
they had lately been used, and the affluence which some of them had
formerly possessed, any of them fell a prey to sickness, and the
concomitant miseries of war.

Nor less aggravated were the distresses of those inhabitants within

the city, whose fidelity to their country could not be shaken, and
whose connections were in arms without. They suffered every kind of
distress, yet with the most heroic firmness, and even the ladies, in
many instances, gave a glorious example of female fortitude. They
submitted patiently to inconveniences never before felt, to hardships
they had never expected; and wept in secret the miseries of their
country, and their separation from their tenderest connections, with
whim they were forbidden all intercourse, and were not permitted the
soft alleviation of the exchange of letters. With becoming dignity, they
had secluded themselves from the gaieties of the city; and refused on
all occasions, to partake of any amusements in company with British
officers; while with a charitable hand, they visited and soothed,
whenever possible, the miserable victims crowded on board prison
ships and thrust into jails.

Their conduct was resented by the officers of the army who

themselves affronted them and exposed them to insults of every kind,
instead of defending the tender and helpless sex, as is justly
expected and required by the laws of civilization and humanity. But
the busy hand of time was ripening events that put a period to their
afflictions. At least, for such of them as lived through the perils and
hardships of the siege, the capture of their city, the waste of their
property, the exile from their families and sufferings too many to
recount, which are usually inflicted on the vanquished by the
conqueror.

Among those who lived to return from their banishment to St.

Augustine, was the venerable Gadsden, who, through all the shocks
of fortune, the rotation of events which he experience was never
shaken in his principles. He had always deserved and retained the
confidence of his country. A firm, uniform republican, he as chosen a
member of the General Congress which met at New York in 1765. He
was a worthy delegate in the respected Assembly which assumed
and declared the independence of the United States. He had no
predilection in favor of kings, and was ever averse to monarchic
institutions and usages. This was probably a reason why he suffered
such particular severities from the British commander.
Notwithstanding his long confinement in the castle of St. Augustine,
and his own personal sufferings, he lived to exemplify his humanity
and generosity toward persons who had been accessory, if not
principals, in instigating the British officers to cruelties toward him,
which they would not otherwise have practiced.

The General Assembly of the state as called upon to meet at

Jacksonborough, the beginning of the ensuring year. Their
constitution required a rotation of office, which rendered Mr. Rutledge
ineligible to serve longer as their first magistrate. In consequence of
this, Mr. Gadsden as chosen governor; but his advanced age an
declining health induced him to refuse the laborious talk. This was a
period of peculiar difficulty, in the administration of the civil affairs of
the state. In the sessions at Jacksonborough, there was little lenity
exercised toward that description of persons who had taken British
protections, or had in any manner abetted their measures, either in
the city or the field. Their property was confiscated, many of their
persons condemned to banishment, and the most rigorous
prosecutions commenced against all suspected persons.

Though Mr. Gadsden had declined acting as governor of the state, he

did not sit down an inactive spectator of the infringements of
humanity or justice in society, into which persons might be hurried by
an over-heated zeal, or the want of a proper restraint on the
prejudices and passions of men. He vigorously opposed the
proceedings of the assembly, which cut off the loyalists from returning
to their allegiance, even if they wished it, and sitting down quietly in
the bosom of their country. It is now time to leave for the present, the
deranged state of their civil police, and the hostile confusion which
still pervaded the two most southern colonies, South Carolina and
Georgia, and pursue the narrative of the march of the British army
through North Carolina. The slaughter that accompanied his route,
through every stage of its progress, is an unpleasant tale. There
appeared few interludes of humane and generous deportment toward
the miserable, from the borders of South Carolina, until Lord
Cornwallis reached the important stand in Virginia, which finished his
career of military fame and success, and again humbled the proud
glory of the British arms, beneath the standard of the Americans.

But before we follow the conqueror of Charleston in his pursuit of new

victories in the more central part of the union, we will just observe that
no one of the 13 United States felt more severely the fatal
consequences of revolutionary convulsions, than that of South
Carolina. Many of the best of its citizens perished in the conflict;
others, from independence and opulence were reduced to the lowest
grade of hopeless penury, while they beheld with astonishment, the
sudden accumulation of fortune by those whom they had viewed as a
subordinate class, now grown up to incalculable wealth, amid
confusion and depredation. The convenient situations for commerce
which they had formerly occupied, were soon after possessed by
British agents, sent on at the close of the war to reap the gleanings of
property, by the demands of speedy liquidation of old British debts.

Those debts could not be discharged by men whose plantations were

ruined, their slaves enticed or stolen away, and every other species of
property wasted in the general pillage. Their capital had bee held for
a considerable time as a conquered city, by the invaders of life,
liberty, an property, sanctioned by the authority of the King of
England. It is obvious that his patronage and protection should forever
have nurtured the peace, prosperity, an growth of the American
colonies. But interest and policy dictated the wisdom of this line of
conduct which would have prevented the irretrievable blow, which
rent in sunder the Empire of Britain.
But as a wounded limb, pruned or bent downwards, yet not destroyed
by the hand of the rude invader sometimes revives and flourishes
with new vigor, while the parent stock is weakened and its decay
accelerated by the exuberance of its former luxury and strength, so
may some future period behold the United Colonies, notwithstanding
their depression and their energetic struggles for freedom, revivified,
and raised to a degree of political consideration that may convince
the parent state of the importance of this loss. They may perhaps be
taught to dread any future rupture with a people grown strong by
oppression, and become respectable among all nations, for their
manly resistance to the tyrannous hand stretched out to enslave
them.

______________________

Chapter Twenty: Lord Cornwallis marches to Wilmington. Marquis de

la Fayette sent to Virginia. Death of General Phillips. Lord Cornwallis
moves from Petersburg to Williamsburg. Dissonant opinions between
him and Sir Henry Clinton. Crosses James River. Takes post at
Portsmouth. Indecision of Sir Henry Clinton. Meditates an attack on
Philadelphia. The project relinquished.

In the first moments of victory, the mind is generally elate with the
expectation of applause, and the prospect of additional fame. This
was exemplified in the conduct of Lord Cornwallis when the retreating
Americans had turned their faces from the field at Guilford, and left
him to publish proclamations, invitations, and pardon to the
inhabitants of the south. The scepter of mercy was held out to them,
on condition that they were sufficiently humbled to become the
obedient subjects of those who had destroyed their liberty, their
property, and the lives of their friends, to obtain inglorious conquest,
and arbitrary dominion.
He was a man of understanding and sagacity, though not so
thoroughly acquainted with the natural feelings of mankind as to
escape a disappointment from the conduct of the Carolinians. They
revolted at the idea of seeing one American state after another
subdued and laid low at the feet of foreign conquerors. Many, whose
minds had been held in a neutral state previous to this period, now
repaired with great precipitation to the congressional officers and
enlisted under their banners for the defense of their native country.

Lord Cornwallis, after the action at Guilford and the retreat of General
Greene, lost no time in expediting his previous plans of military
arrangements; and, consistently with his own character, he soon
moved to endeavor to prosecute them with success. He had reason
to calculate that when he had finished a long and fatiguing march
which lay before him, that he should meet General Phillips in Virginia,
with a large body of troops, and by their junction impede all
resistance, and reestablish the authority of their master in that
rebellious state. Instead of a completion of these expectations, he
had when he arrived there only to witness a fresh instance of the
uncertainty of human hope, followed by a train of new
disappointments.

The British commander immediately hastened by the most convenient

route to Wilmington, and from thence to Petersburg. Innumerable
difficulties had attended Lord Cornwallis and his army in his march
from Guilford to Wilmington; but in his judgment, the march was
absolutely necessary. Such was the situation and distress of the
troops and so great were the sufferings of the sick and wounded that
he had no option left after they had decamped from the field of battle
and moved to Cross Creek. The army was obliged to pass a long
way through a perfect desert where there were neither provisions for
their subsistence nor water sufficient to carry the mills, even could
they have procured a supply of corn. At the same time, he had reason
to expect that the whole country east of the Santee and Pendee
would be in arms against them, notwithstanding his previous
proclamation and promise of pardon, on his leaving Guilford.
He wrote Sir Henry Clinton, after his arrival at Wilmington, that he had
reason to suppose many who had taken part in the rebellion had
been convinced of their error and were desirous to return to their duty
and allegiance; that he had promised them pardon, with few
exceptions, on the surrendering of themselves, their arms, and
ammunition; and that they should be permitted to return home, on
giving a military parole; that their persons and properties should be
protected from violence; and, as soon as possible, that they should
be restored to all the privileges of legal and constitutional
government.

These specious promises had little effect on the alienated inhabitants.

No allurements could induce them to join heartily in assisting the
British commander to subjugate their native land. Their defection
daily increased; and a more thorough aversion to the designs and the
authority of the British government almost universally appeared.
This, His Lordship himself attested. He observed afterwards in a
letter to Sir Henry Clinton that "after the complete victory at Guilford,
his numbers did not increase, though he had stayed two days near
the field of action." His Lordship acknowledged that though he had
marched through the part of the country where he had reason to
suppose he had the most friends, he found himself equally
disappointed and mortified. He observed that "Many of the inhabitants
rode into camp, shook me by the hand, said they were glad to see
me, and to hear that we had beaten Greene, and then rode home
again; for I could not get a hundred men in all the Regulators' country
to stay with me, even as militia." [See Lord Cornwallis's letter to Sir
Henry Clinton, April 10, 1780.]

This must have been a very unpleasant prelude to His Lordship's

march through a forlorn wilderness, interspersed with deep rivers,
which must greatly impede an army encumbered with sick and
wounded, who were, many of them, obliged to travel in wagons, while
all were scantily provided with clothes, shoes, or provisions. But
notwithstanding all impediments, they reached Wilmington April 7.
There, the commander found new sources of anxiety. He felt his
apprehensions increased on account of the situation of Lord Rawdon,
on whom the command had devolved when Lord Cornwallis left
Guilford. He had left with him only 900 mean; but whatever dangers
his little army might be exposed to from the pursuit of General
Greene, which was now ascertained it was impossible for Lord
Cornwallis to tread back his steps to their assistance. These
considerations determined His Lordship to take the advantage of
General Greene's having left the back part of Virginia open, to march
immediately into that state.

As he had received express in junctions from Sir Henry Clinton, to

leave the Carolinas as soon as possible and repair to Virginia to the
aid of General Phillips. It was his opinion, that his own movements
were not optional. This officer had been sent forward to the
Chesapeake with a reinforcement, in order to support the measures
Sir Henry Clinton had, early in the preceding winter, adopted, and for
a time had entrusted General Arnold to prosecute.

Previous to Lord Cornwallis's removal from Wilmington, he wrote

General Phillips that he was in great distress at the reflection that
General Greene had taken the advantage of his absence and had
marched towards South Carolina; that he had endeavored to warn
Lord Rawdon of this danger; but that he had reason to think his
dispatches had been intercepted. He observed that "the
mountaineers and militia had poured into the back parts of that
province; and he much feared that Lord Rawdon's posts would be so
distant from each other and his troops so scattered as to put him into
the greatest danger of being beat in detail; and that the worst of
consequences might happen to most of the troops out of Charleston.
By a direct move towards Camden, I cannot get there time enough to
relive Lord Rawdon; and should he have fallen, my army would be
exposed to the utmost dangers, from the great rivers I should have to
pass, the exhausted state of the country, the numerous militia, the
almost universal spirit of revolt which prevails in South Carolina, and
the strength of Greene's army, whose continentals alone are almost
as numerous as I am."

His Lordship seemed, however, determined to make a feint in favor of

Lord Rawdon by moving towards Hillsborough;. Yet he did not seem
to expect much advantage could result therefrom. His situation was
such that he appeared embarrassed in his decisions. Nor could he
easily determine, under the difficulty of existing circumstances, what
line of conduct would best promote the general cause in which he
was engaged. In Lord Cornwallis's letter to General Phillips, from
which an extract is given above, dated Wilmington, April 24, 1781, he
informed him that an attempt to march from thence to Virginia was
exceedingly hazardous; and that many unforeseen difficulties might
render it totally impracticable; that he should, however, endeavor to
surmount them, and, as soon as possible, attempt to march on to
Roanoke. In the mean time, he cautioned General Phillips to take no
steps that might expose the army with him to ruin, if in any event their
junction should be retarded. He urged him to transmit the earliest
intelligence from time to time, until circumstances should admit of his
meeting him at Petersburg.

General Washington, soon after Arnold's embarkation from New York,

had ordered a detachment of continental troops, under the command
of the Marquis de la Fayette, to follow, to watch the motions, and, if
possible, to defeat the sanguinary purposes of this newly converted
agent to execute the designs of their enemies and waste the blood of
his countryman.

A French squadron had lately arrived at Rhode Island, a part of which,

it was expected, would soon repair to the Chesapeake, under and
able and experience naval commander, the Count de Barras. High
expectations were formed by every class of Americans that the
assistance of France this year would be sufficient to enable the
armies of the United States to counteract, if not to defeat, the designs
of the British commanders in their several departments.
Sir Henry Clinton, apprised of these circumstances, and very
apprehensive for the safety of his friends in Virginia, judged it
necessary there should be no further delay in sending a more
respectable force to that quarter to strengthen the hands of General
Arnold. Arnold had, on his first arrival in Virginia, landed at Westover
and marched to Richmond, destroying all before him, with little or no
opposition. He had assisted in his marauding exploits by Colonel
Simcoe, who marched from Richmond to Westham, and there
destroyed one of the finest foundries for cannon in all America. They
burnt, plundered, and destroyed everything before them as they
moved. Yet Sir Henry Clinton was convinced that their numbers were
not sufficient to facilitate his wishes and subdue the state, without a
more strong and respectable force. In consequence of this
determination, he had ordered Major General Phillips, with 4000 men,
to repair immediately to Virginia to succor Arnold. He likewise had
directed Lord Cornwallis to form a junction with General Phillips, as
soon as the affairs of Carolina would admit of his transferring his
command there, and leaving that state. By some expressions in the
order, it seemed to e left discretionary with His Lordship to move
when and where he thought proper;. Yet in consequence of this call
and the reasons annexed thereto, he thought himself obligated to
hasten his march to meet General Phillips, according to the directions
of Sir Henry Clinton.

Lord Cornwallis, notwithstanding all the discouraging circumstances

which he had encountered and which at times still seemed to
increase before him, did not lose sight of the objects of conquest,
victory, and glory, to be acquired in Virginia. So prone is man to
anticipate the completion of his own wishes that he continues to
cherish them even after probabilities cease to exist. Thus the
confidence of His Lordship had in the military abilities of Lord
Rawdon, the repeated defeat of General Greene, and the broken
state of his army, from the frequent instances of flight and desertion,
still flattered him with ideas that the Carolinas might yet be subdued.
These considerations induced him to hasten his march toward the
state of Virginia. His troops were indeed in a miserable condition for a
march of 300 miles, in a hostile country, where they could not avail
themselves of its produce, however necessary for their subsistence,
without being impeded by skirmishing parties. Both the cavalry and
infantry were in a very destitute situation, with regard to forage,
provisions, and clothing; but these were not impediments sufficient to
stop the progress of veteran troops, with an able commander at their
head. They began their march on April 25 and arrived at Petersburg
on May 20.

The route from Guilford to Wilmington, and from Wilmington to

Petersburg as attended with unusual fatigue and difficulty. Yet Lord
Cornwallis moved with cheerfulness and alacrity, supported by the
sanguine expectation and pleasing idea of triumph in the reduction of
Virginia, in addition to the conquest of the Carolinas. Groundless as
were these expectations, His Lordship, at the time, flattered himself
that the work of subduing the Carolinas was nearly finished and that
they should soon only have to take measures for retaining in
obedience those turbulent and refractory states. But when he had
completed his march and arrived the destined spot, that opened to
his imagination new scenes of glory and victory, he found, on every
side, embarrassments that he had not contemplated, and
disappointments that wounded both his personal feelings as a friend,
and his military pride as an officer.

He met at Petersburg the melancholy tidings of the death of General

Phillips, from whose acknowledged military talents an experience, he
had reason to expect advice and assistance in every exigency. This
brave and judicious officer, who had so often staked his life in the
field of battle, fell a victim to sickness. Lord Cornwallis had no
opinion of Arnold. He despised him as a man or an officer, and hated
his as a traitor. He wrote to Sir Henry Clinton that he experience had
made him less sanguine; and that more arrangements were
necessary for so important an expedition as the present, than had
ever occurred to General Arnold. To this, His Lordship added many
other expressions of contempt and disgust, for the new

favorite of the British commander in chief..

It is not strange that many officers among the gallant troops of Great
Britain, men of name an distinction should be much chagrined at the
rank given to and the confidence placed in this unprincipled minimum.

Before his death it had appeared, that Major General Phillips, who had
formerly suffered by the bravery of Arnold and his associates, was
manifestly pique at the attention paid to his advice and the anxiety
shown by Sir Henry Clinton for his safety. Phillips had but recently
obtained his liberty after the Convention of Saratoga. Exchanged for
General Lincoln, this expedition to Virginia was his first command of
any magnitude, after his release. He found in the ordered received
from General Clinton some mortifying expressions and a letter that
accompanied them contained still more. Clinton had indiscreetly
intimated therein to General Philips that "the security of Arnold and
his troops at Elizabeth River was the principal object of Phillips's
expedition to Virginia." For this expression, General Clinton found
himself afterwards obliged to apologize. It was deemed grossly
affrontive to a high spirited officer of the rank, merits, and military
abilities possessed by General Phillips.

From the circumstances already related, it appears clearly that Lord

Cornwallis's route from Charleston to Virginia was long, hazardous,
and fatiguing. He had not traversed less than 1100 or 1200 miles
when he reached Cobham on James River, including the necessary
circuitous marches he was obliged to make to avoid rivers, rapids,
mountains, and other impediments to ease or expedition in traveling.

From this place, he wrote some of his most desponding and

discontented letters to General Clinton. He found the British troops
scattered in small detachments an posted at a distance from each
other in various parts of the country. He observed to Sir Henry
Clinton, "One maxim appears to me to be absolutely necessary for
the safe and honorable conduct of this war -- which is, that we should
have as few posts as possible; and that wherever the King's troops
are, they should be in respectable force. By the vigorous exertions of
the present governors of America, large bodies of men are soon
collected; and I have too often observed that when a storm threatens,
our friends disappear."

Before Lord Cornwallis left Cobham, he observed in a letter to

General Clinton that "he wished to call his attention to the inutility of a
stand at an offensive post that could have no influence on the war
that still existed in Carolina and that only gave them a few acres of
unhealthy swamp in Virginia, liable at any time to become a prey to
the enemy, without any superiority of force." [Lord Cornwallis's letter
from Cobham, James River.]

From his first arrival in Virginia, he had declined acting with General
Arnold; but he was not long mortified with the sight or the society of a
man he so much detested. He did not reach Petersburg until May 20,
and in the beginning of June, he was relieve from an associate so
disagreeable to the feeling of a man of honor, by Arnold's return to
New York.

Sir Henry Clinton had various reasons for the recall of this officer.
These he did not announce; but he doubtless through that from his
constitutional boldness and the desperate situation in which he would
be found if defeated by the Americans, that Arnold would be a useful
agent if New York should be seriously attacked. But the principal
design appeared soon after to be that of employing him in a business
for which he was peculiarly calculated; the surprise, the plundering,
and the burning of plantations and defenseless towns on the sea
coast of the state of Connecticut and other places.

The unexpected and much lamented death of General Phillips and the
recall of General Arnold, a man held odious by Cornwallis in every
point of view, left his Lordship the sole responsibility for events in
Virginia; and perhaps the movements and termination of the
campaign there were conducted with as much judgment, ability, and
military skill as could have been exhibited by any officer involved in
similar difficulties and embarrassments.

It was not many weeks after Lord Cornwallis arrived in Virginia before
the intelligence he received from the southward filled him with the
most serious and alarming apprehensions for the safety of Lord
Rawdon. He found by the most authenticated accounts that General
Greene had taken the advantage of his absence and had moved with
all possible expedition toward the environs of Charleston; that success
had attended his maneuvers in various instances; and that Lord
Rawdon had a frequently been disappointed in his systems. To
return, and follow him, was impracticable; though, in his opinion, the
Carolinas were in the utmost danger of being lost to Great Britain.
Yet the work assigned him in Virginia, required the talents and the
vigilance of the ablest commander.

On his arrival in that state, he found the Americans in high spirits, and
their troops strongly posted on the most convenient ground. He
found that General Arnold had done little to facilitate the conquest of
Virginia. He had indeed burnt several houses, destroyed some
stores, and murdered many of the inhabitants; but no consistent plan
of conquest appeared to have been either arranged or executed. His
Lordship also felt heavily the death of General Phillips, from whom he
expected much information and advice, in the critical emergencies
that opened upon him the farther he advanced.

The orders of General Clinton were peremptory, and to Cornwallis

appeared inscrutable; and in addition to the list of perplexities and
disappointments that daily thickened upon him, he received orders
from Sir Henry Clinton to send on a part of his troops for the defense
of New York, which he still apprehended would soon be attacked by
the combined armies of France and America.

Thus, embarrassed on every fide, his own systems deranged, his

judgment slighted, and his opinions disregarded by the commander in
chief, His Lordship as evidently chagrined. Yet he lost not the
vigilance or activity of an officer of distinguished valor; and soon
made an effort to concentrate this troops, and to place the main body
of his army in the posts he judged best calculated for defense. In this
he differed widely in opinion from Sir Henry Clinton; but finally took
his stand at Yorktown, in obedience to the orders of the commander
in chief.

The Marquis de la Fayette had not been idle before the arrival of Lord
Cornwallis; and afterwards aided by the judgment and experience of
the Baron de Steuben, who arrived in the month of June, he kept the
British troops in play for some time. But the number of his troops was
inconsiderable, and most of them militia men. They were easily
routed in detached bodies by the more experienced partisans who
opposed them. Besides many officers of superior name and
character, in the train of Lord Cornwallis, he was attended with very
many who had no higher description of talent, than what was
necessary for sudden and bold invasion of the weak and defenseless,
without any relentings, or compassionate feelings toward the victims
who fell into their hands. In a war like the present, they had many
opportunities of indulging their propensities, and exhibiting those
talents.

The violent and cruel vigilance of Colonel Tarleton is already too well
known to require any comment. Among other British partisans of
notoriety, was a Colonel Hamilton, who had distinguished himself for
his activity and his severity, from Georgia to Virginia. Not less active
than either of the above, was a Colonel Simcoe, more remarkable for
intrigue, stratagem, and surprise than for the cool operations of the
commander of magnanimity. The courage which is accompanies by
humanity is a virtue; but bravery that pushes through all dangers to
destroy is barbarous, is savage, is brutal.

These were the principal officers at the time, that headed the
detachments in most of the marauding parties that infested the state
of Virginia. Simcoe had distinguished himself in this way through the
Jerseys, until taken prisoner by the Americans. When he recovered
his liberty, he pursued the game; and became so perfect in the art of
coup de main that in one of this excursions in Virginia, he eluded
event the vigilance of the Baron Steuben, so far as to oblige him to
remove with precipitation from an advantageous post, not without
considerable loss.

Lord Cornwallis himself detailed some of the heroic feats of this trio in
a letter to Sir Henry Clinton, dated Williamsburg, June 30. The
principal design of His Lordship as by their movements to prevent the
junction of General Wayne, who was marching through Maryland to
the assistance of the Marquis de la Fayette. He pushed his light
troops over a river in haste in order to effect this, if possible. Finding it
impractical, and that in spite of all his efforts General Wayne had
made good his march and reached his intended post, he took the
advantage of the Marquis's passing the Rappahannock, and
detached Lieutenant Colonels Simcoe and Tarleton to disturb the
Assembly of the state, then sitting at Charlotteville. The result of this
excursion was the capture of several of the members of the
Assembly, and the waste of the continental stores in that quarter.
They destroyed at Charlotteville and on their return 1000 stand of
arms, 500 barrels of powder, and a large quantity of other military
accouterments and provisions.

The Baron Steuben had his station at this time, at the point of Fork.
He was surprised and obliged to retreat after a short rencounter.
Simcoe followed and used every exertion to attack his rear guard. Not
effecting this, he destroyed, as usual, all the continental stores which
lay in their way. There, and in places adjacent, the Americans lost
3000 or 4000 stand of arms and a large quantity of powder and other
store. The Baron had with him in this affray about 800 men, mostly
militia.

After this, Lord Cornwallis moved himself to Williamsburg. There he

gave fully and freely to Sir Henry Clinton, his opinion of the only mode
of effecting the security of South and the reduction of North Carolina,
which he found was expected from him both in England and America.
He observed that, in his judgment, "until Virginia was subdued, they
could not reduce North Carolina or have any certain hold of the back
country of South Carolina; the want of navigation rendering it
impossible to maintain a sufficient army in either of those provinces at
a considerable distance from the coast; and the men and riches of
Virginia furnishing ample supplies to the rebel southern army. I will
not say much in praise of the militia of the southern colonies; but the
list of British officers and soldiers killed and wounded by them since
last June, proves but too fatally that they are not wholly
contemptible." [See Lord Cornwallis's letter to General Clinton, dated
Williamsburg, June 30, 1781.]

It appears from all the correspondence and conferences between Sir

Henry Clinton, General Phillips, and other officers, that the British
commander in chief had seriously contemplated an excursion to
Philadelphia. He intimated in one of his letters to General Phillips,
not long before his death, that they probably had more friends who
would cooperate with them in the state of Pennsylvania than either in
Maryland or Virginia. He seems to have been led to this opinion by
the representations of a Colonel Rankin. He urged this as an
experiment that would redound much to the advantage of Lord
Cornwallis's operations in Virginia. General Clinton clearly
discovered that he had a predilection, himself, in favor of the project.
He asked the advice of the Generals Phillips and Arnold on the
subject, after he had appeared to be predetermined to make the
experiment.

When it was disclosed to Lord Cornwallis by General Phillips's letters

falling into his hands, he did not hesitate to remonstrate against
drawing off 4000 men from Virginia for service in the Delaware, in this
critical exigency of affairs in all the more southern colonies. He
observed in the same letter from which an extract is given above that
Sir Henry Clinton, being charged with the weight of the whole
American war, his opinions, of course, were less partial, and were
directed to all its parts; and that to those opinions it was his duty
implicitly to submit.

He then adds that "Being in the place of General Phillips, I thought

myself called upon by you to give my opinion on the attempt on
Philadelphia. Having experienced much disappointment on that
head, I own I would cautiously engage in measures, depending
materially for their success on the active assistance from the country;
and I thought the attempt on Philadelphia would do more harm than
good to the cause of Britain; because, supposing it practical to get
possession of the town, (which, besides other obstacles, if the
redoubts are kept up, would not be easy) we could not hope to arrive
without their having had sufficient warning of our approach to enable
them to secure specie, and the greatest part of their valuable public
stores, by means of their boats and shipping."

The difficulty in discriminating friends from foes in Philadelphia, the

improbability that they could continue long there if they succeeded,
the stronger necessity for all the troops that could be spared from
New York to act in Virginia, and the hazard that would attend an
attack on Philadelphia were circumstances that induced Lord
Cornwallis very judiciously to portray them in his letters to Sir Henry
Clinton, as an object where the balance of the risk far outweighed any
promise of advantage.

It may easily be supposed that those free opinions and advice, which
he considered as obtruded, could not be very acceptable to the
commander in chief at New York. More especially, as it as evident
there had long existed heart burnings and jealousies between Sir
Henry Clinton and Lord Cornwallis. These were heightened by the
warm altercations between them, with regard to the most convenient
and advantageous posts for defense, as well as the arrangements for
offensive operations.

The encampment of the Marquis de la Fayette was at this time about

18 or 20 miles from Williamsburg. He had with him about 2000 men.
This was a number far too short for any offensive movements against
such a strong and forcible British army as was then posted in
Virginia. He was in impatient expectation of reinforcements, which he
had now reason to conclude as certain, from the junction of the
American and French troops commanded by the Count de
Rochambeau. But the Marquis was obliged to act again, before there
was time for his relief by the arrival of his friends.

Lord Cornwallis endeavored before the middle of July to cross James

River and pass his army to Portsmouth. The Marquis de la Fayette
sent forward the Pennsylvania line, with some other detachments, to
impede their passage. This brought on a smart engagement, which
terminated with considerable loss on both sides. The approach of
evening, with other disadvantageous circumstances, obliged the
Americans to retreat, leaving the few cannon they had with them
behind. The darkness of the night prevented a pursuit. The next day
the British passed the river; but not without some difficulty from its
width, which was about three miles.

The Marquis de la Fayette, through the difficulties which he had to

encounter in Virginia, had on all occasions conducted with more
valor, caution, prudence, and judgment than could have been
expected from so young an officer. When the Baron de Steuben
joined him in the month of June, he had few men under his
command, expect the militia, whose numbers were indeterminate,
and the time of their continuance in service always uncertain. Yet
much generalship and military address had been shown on various
occasions, both by the young hero and the aged veteran. They,
through all the summer, opposed the vigilance and superior force of
Lord Cornwallis, with great courage and dexterity.

Lord Cornwallis had made several judicious attempts to surprise the

Marquis with his little armament, consisting, as His Lordship
occasionally observed, "mostly of unarmed peasantry." But wary and
brave, his ability and judgment had supplied the deficiencies, and
balanced the weakness of his detachment; and before the arrival of
the Generals Washington and Rochambeau, the Marquis de la
Fayette had rendered very essential service to the American cause
by his valor and firmness in the state of Virginia.

Lord Cornwallis had been but a few days at Portsmouth before he

received a letter from Sir Henry Clinton, censuring him in direct terms
for attempting to pass James River, and taking his stand at
Portsmouth, though he had before recommended this to General
Philips, as a convenient post. He observed that he had flattered
himself, until he had the honor to receive His Lordship's letter of July
8, "that upon reconsidering the general purport of our
correspondence, and General Phillips's papers in your possession,
you would at least have waited for a line from me in answer to your
letter of the 30th ultimo, before you finally determined upon so
serious and mortifying a move as the repassing James River and
retiring your army to Portsmouth. And I was the more induced to
hope that this would have been the case as we both seemed to agree
in our opinion of the propriety of taking a healthy station on the neck
between the York and James Rivers, for the purpose of covering a
proper harbor for our line of battle ships."

Through all his correspondence, orders, commands, countermands,

and indecision, during the present summer, no man ever appeared
more embarrassed, or more totally at a loss how to arrange his
military maneuvers than did General Clinton. He appeared at time to
consider the reduction of Virginia as a primary object, and that it was
of the highest importance that Lord Cornwallis should be there
strengthened and supported both by sea and land. At other periods,
he treated the operations there in so light a manner that his ideas
could not be comprehended even by so intelligent an officer as Lord
Cornwallis.

It was not more than three or four weeks previous to the date of the
above letter that Sir Henry Clinton had pressed His Lordship, as if in
a sudden fright, to send him 2000 troops to aid in the defense of New
York; and, as if under some panic-struck influence, he said, "The
sooner they are sent, the better; unless Your Lordship may have
adopted my plan to move to Baltimore or the Delaware Neck and put
yourself in a way to cooperate with us; but even in that case, you can
spare us something, I suppose. From all the letters I have seen, I am
of opinion, if circumstances of provisions, stores, etc., turn out as they
wish, that the enemy will certainly attack this post. As for men for
such an object, in this (circumstanced as they suppose it to be) it
cannot be doubted that they can raise a sufficient number."

Sir Henry Clinton had found by an intercepted letter that there were
8000 men collected at West Point, and that others were coming in
very fast. He informed Cornwallis that he had certain intelligence that
Admiral Barras had sailed from Rhode Island; that many
circumstances had put it beyond a doubt that the design was to form
a junction between him and General Washington, and that they
meditated an attempt on the post at New York.

It is needless to detail much more of the correspondence of the British

officers acting at this time in America. Their characters are sufficiently
elucidated, not only by their own letters, but by subsequent
transactions. It is enough to observe that by the correspondence of
the general officers, afterwards published in England, it clearly
appears that they did not harmonize in opinion. Their councils at this
time were confused, and their plans indecisive.

Yet it is worthy of notice that distrust, dissension, and vilification were

kept up equally between some of the British naval commanders and
Sir Henry Clinton. In one of his confidential letters, he complained
that "all opportunities of advantage were impeded or lost by the
slowness and obstinacy of the Admiral." He observed that "his
strange conduct had, if possible, been more inscrutable than ever. At
one time, he declared he was immediately going home. At another,
he had sworn he know nothing of his recall.

In a secret and confidential letter to General Phillips, Sir Henry Clinton

assured him that "if he was not better satisfied by the next post,
relative to the recall of Admiral Graves, he should probably leave the
management of him solely to Lord Cornwallis." [See General Clinton's
vindicatory letters.] In this letter he censured His Lordship in direct
terms for leaving the Carolinas but half subdued to pursue the
chimerical project of doubtful conquests in Virginia. He asserted that
his invitation, not his commands to His Lordship, to come to the
Chesapeake was on the supposition that everything was settled in
the Carolinas, agreeably to the wishes of administration and the
designs of the government of England.

Sure of the confidence of General Phillips, Sir Henry Clinton

expressed the utmost astonishment that "with nine British battalions,
a legion of infantry, a detachment of yaughers, five Hessian and
several provincial battalions, some American light horse, and large
detachments of artillery and dragoons, that Lord Cornwallis should yet
pretend that he wanted forces sufficient for the most solid operation in
Virginia." [General Clinton's letter to Major General Phillips, April
1781, printed in England with his other letters.]

He sneered at His Lordship's idea, that it was impossible to act with

his army in Carolina, without the assistance of friends. This reflection
alluded to a letter received by him, in which Lord Cornwallis observed
that the royal cause had few friends in that country, and that when a
storm threatened, even those few disappeared. An historian had
observed that "Chofroes relinquished the Cochian war in the just
 persuasion that it is impossible to hold a distant country against the
wishes and efforts of its inhabitants." [Gibbon on the Decline and Fall
of the Roman Empire.] His Lordship might probably be of the same
opinion. This opinion was justified by hi own experience, in too many
mortifying instances for the tranquility of a man of his sensibility.

It has been above observed that by the sudden death of General

Phillips, all these letters fell into the hands of Lord Cornwallis, with
several others of the same style and tenor. This circumstance greatly
aggravated the dissension and disgust between the commander
officers in New York and Virginia. Yet, notwithstanding the implied
censure or reproach which they contained, in most of Sir Henry
Clinton's letters afterwards to Lord Cornwallis, he had written with
great complaisance, and had express the highest confidence in His
Lordship's abilities and judgment. But the breach became
irreconcilable.

Through the whole business, Lord Cornwallis constantly affirmed that

his force was insufficient even for defensive operations. He took the
liberty to intimate to Sir Henry Clinton that notwithstanding there had
been a call for a part of his troops for the defense of New York, that
he had never been under any apprehensions for the safety of that
city. With the same freedom, he remonstrated against a plan that had
been meditated by the commander in chief at New York, for an attack
on the city of Philadelphia.

His Lordship asserted with some degree of warmth that it appeared to

him highly imprudent that any par of his army should be detached for
that or any other purpose. But he observed further that in his
subordinate situation, unacquainted with the instructions of
administration, ignorant of the forces under the command of His
Excellency General Clinton, and without the power of making
arrangements, he could only offer his opinion: that plans of execution
must come from himself, who had the materials for forming as well as
the power of executing.
These remonstrances had little weight with the British commander in
chief. It appears through all their correspondence that these
gentlemen differed very widely in opinion with regard to the modes of
action, the numbers necessary for effective execution, the best posts
for defense, and indeed in the general plan of all their operations.
However, Sir Henry Clinton still kept up the idea of supporting the war
in Virginia, and of aiding Lord Cornwallis to the utmost,
notwithstanding he had sent an order to draw off a par of his troops.

After he was thoroughly alarmed at the hazardous situation of the

commander in Virginia, he relinquished his chimerical project of
attacking Philadelphia; he countermanded the orders for drawing off a
considerable part of the troops; and endeavored to hasten on a small
squadron of British ships then lying at Sandy Hook. He flattered
himself that a few ships under the flag of Britain might intercept the
fleet and interrupt the designs of Admiral Barras, who had sailed from
Rhode Island; or retard a still more important object, the arrival of the
Count de Graffe in the Chesapeake, where he was hourly expected.
He made some other ineffectual efforts for the relief of the British
army, which was soon after cooped up by a large French fleet that
arrived within the Capes.

The dissension, discord, and division of opinion among the British

officers was not all that occasioned the fatal delay of strengthening
Lord Cornwallis in Virginia; it may be ascribed more to that
atmosphere of doubt in which Sir Henry Clinton was involved.
Irresolute measures are ever the result of a confusion of ideas. The
vast object of reducing such a wide extended country, and setting the
wheels of operation in motion, so as to work with equal facility from
Georgia to Virginia, from Virginia to the north, and from Canada to the
eastern extreme, was too wide an extent for the compass of his
ability.

His mind seemed for a time to be plunged in a chaos, uncertain where

to begin, in the complicated difficulties of his official duties, or where
to set the strongest materials of his machinery to work in all its parts,
in a manner that would produce a complete system of conquest
through the United States. There was no deficiency of courage,
ardor, or fidelity to their master, among the officers of the Crown,
however dissentient in opinion with regard to the modes of
execution. But these dissensions prevented that ready cooperation in
action which is necessary both to defeat the designs of their enemies
and to complete their own systems by judicious and prompt decision,
and the immediate execution of well-digested plans.

The movements of the continental and French army had alarmed Sir
Henry Clinton to such a degree that he long persisted in his
determination of recalling a part of the troops from Virginia for the
immediate defense of New York. He informed Lord Cornwallis that
General Washington had with him 8000 or 10,000 men, besides the
French battalions; and observed that everyone acquainted with the
disposition of the inhabitants east of the Hudson must be sensible in
what manner their appearance would affect the numerous and
warlike militia of the New England states.

Sir Henry Clinton, doubtful of the farther success of Lord Cornwallis,

apprehensive of an immediate assault on New York, and reasonably
calculating the numbers in array against him as very far superior to
his own, lost sight for a time of the dangerous situation of Lord
Cornwallis and the army in Virginia. To complete the agitation of his
mind, he was now trembling for his sinking reputation, which had been
severely attacked in England. From these circumstances, his
despondency was nearly equal to his irresolution. Yet, apparent
necessity awakened his energy for the defense of the city of New
York; and every possible step was taken to meet the combined troops
in a manner becoming a British veteran commander.

Lord Cornwallis, with very different ideas, was parrying the attacks of
the Americans then in Virginia, and preparing, as far as possible, for
the resistance of stronger bodies of enemies. He was persuaded that
General Washington and the Count de Rochambeau, aided by a
powerful French fleet, had deeper laid system and were on the point
of disclosing designs of higher magnitude and more important
consequences than had ever been apprehended by Sir Henry
Clinton.

The variety of smaller skirmishes, retreats, reprisals, and unexpected

rencounters, that took place on the different rivers and posts in
Virginia may at present be left to advert more particularly to the
difficulties of Lord Cornwallis had to contend with and the dangers he
had to combat, previous to the decision of his fortune in that quarter.
He had for a time taken his stand at Portsmouth, but he left that
station as soon as possible; and according to orders from the
commander in chief, concentrated his forces at Yorktown and
Gloucester, towards the close of summer, much against his own
judgment.

We have seen that by the indecisions of General Clinton, the delay of

reinforcements both by land and sea, and the general defection and
disgust of the Virginians to any appearance of the authority of the
Crown of Britain, there were causes sufficient to discourage an officer
who was ambitious to act with vigor and promptitude. But these were
far from comprising the whole of the gloomy prospect which lay before
Lord Cornwallis. He had the highest reason to expect the approach
of General Washington, accompanied by the experienced and
renowned Rochambeau. At the same time, he had well grounded
expectations of a French fleet in the Chesapeake to counteract any
naval operations on the part of Britain. This combination of dangers,
added to the inconvenient and indispensable post His Lordship was
impelled to take, reduced him to the most perplexed and embarrassed
state of mind. Yet he supported himself with firmness and
magnanimity, until new and inextricable difficulties led him to despair
of the success of the campaign. This was apparent by the tenor of
his letters, as well as by his general deportment, for some time
previous to the catastrophe of the fatal day, which reduced a
nobleman of the first rank, an officer of the highest military fame and
pride, to the condition of a prisoner.

_____________________

Volume Three

Chapter Twenty-One: A first view of the forces of the contending

parties. The Generals Washington and Rochambeau meet at
Weathersfield. Attack on New York contemplated. The design
relinquished. Combined armies march toward Virginia. Count de
Grasse arrives in the Chesapeake. Sir Samuel Hood arrives at New
York. Sails to the Chesapeake. Naval action. Lord Cornwallis
attempts a retreat. Disappointed. Offers terms of capitulation. Terms of
surrender agreed on. Lord Digby and Sir Henry Clinton arrive too
late. Comparative view of the British commanders. General exchange
of prisoners.

The additional weight of maritime force that appeared in the American

seas in the year 1781 was serious and eventful. In the view of every
sagacious eye, this appearance portended events of magnitude that
might hasten to a decision the long disputed point between Great
Britain and the United States. The European nations considered the
present period a crisis of expectation and that the exertions of this
year would either extinguish American hopes, or establish their claims
as an independent nation.

Before the arrival of Admiral Barras, the naval power of Britain in the
American waters was much superior to anything that had yet arrived
from abroad that could give assistance tot he United States. The
acquisition of strength by the arrival of a squadron under the
command of Sir Samuel Hood might have given an irresistible
 preponderance to the British flag, had not the Count de Grasse
fortunately reached the Chesapeake a few days before him.

There was now just reason to expect the most violent naval
concussions would take place between the Bourbon fleets and the
still more powerful squadrons of Britain. They were soon to meet
near the American shores, where they were destined to dispute the
decision of an object that, from the emulation of power, the long
existing jealousies between two potent sovereigns, and the prospect
of a new face of affairs from the resistance of America, equally
interested the Kings of England and France.

On the part of Britain, their armies were bold, their troops well
appointed, and the pride of conquest urged to prompt execution to
insure success. The Americans, inured to fatigue, become
disciplined from necessity. Naturally sanguine and brave, conscious
of the justice of their cause, and persuaded of the favor of Heaven,
they were ready to engage in defense of their country and their lives,
which they were sure would be the certain forfeit if defeated. Both,
determined and valorous, and perhaps both equally weary of the
contest, they might equally wish for some capital stroke of military
prowess, some honorable action, which might lead to equitable and
amicable decision.

In this attitude of expectation, hope, and uncertainty, of the two

original parties, now combined with the strangers and aliens of
different nations, who had adopted the ardor of conquest equal to
their employers, nothing less could be anticipated than new scenes of
carnage. The auxiliaries on the part of Britain were the feudal
vassals of despotic lords, the mere automatons of German princes,
who held them as their hereditary property. The allies of America
were Frenchmen, who had long felt the weight of the chains of Le
Grand Monarque. They were commanded by polite and erudite
officers who just beheld the dawn of freedom rising on their native
land.
Thus the two armies finally met in the Virginian fields, the germ of the
New World, the first British plantation in America; a state dignified for
its uniform adherence to and its early firm defense of the natural
rights of mankind. Here they were to decide the last stake for the
freedom of nations, a game which had been beheld with interest and
expectation by many of the officers before they left Europe, and which
might eventually have an extensive influence, to enlighten and free
the more enthralled parts of the world.

Previous to the junction of the French and the American armies,

General Washington, the Count of Rochambeau, and several other
distinguished officers had met and held a conference at
Weathersfield, in Connecticut. In consequence of this interview, it
was reported and believed for a time that the combined armies would
immediately attempt the reduction of New York. This was a favorite
object with the Americans, who generally viewed the dislodgment of
the British forces from that island as a measure that would expedite
relief to every other quarter invested or oppressed by their fleets and
armies. Accordingly, great preparations were made, and high
expectations indulged through most of the summer that the army
under the immediate command of Sir Henry Clinton, weakened by
detachments for the southern service, and no reinforcements yet
arriving from England, would soon be driven from the important post
of New York.

General Washington had neglected no argument to impress the

necessity of immediate and vigorous exertions in all the states to
enable him to act with decision. He urged the expectation of the
allied army, commanded by officers of the first abilities, of the highest
military character, some of them of the prime nobility of France, and
all ambitious of glory and eager for action. The disappointment they
would feel if any languor appeared in the United States was obvious;
and every consideration was urged and enforced that might induce
the whole body of the people to aid in facilitating the measures
adopted by the military commanders, which could not be executed
without union and prompt decision in all the legislatures.

Preparations were accordingly made, and on July 6, the junction of

the French American armies took place at White Plains. They soon
after took a nearer position, with every preparation for, and all the
appearance of, a formidable attack on the city. But notwithstanding
the sanguine hopes of the Americans on this occasion, and well
founded apprehensions of the British commander in chief, a
combination of circumstances prevented an enterprise, which both
the army and the people thought was not only designed, but had
calculated that it would be effected without much difficulty.

Nor was this less respected by Sir Henry Clinton, who had no idea
that nay system had been formed for the combined armies to move
toward Virginia. He had taken every measure to obtain the most
correct information. In this he succeeded. The letters of General
Washington were intercepted. His dispatches taken by the agents
employed for the purpose were conveyed to New York, by which the
British commander obtained intelligence which alarmed his
apprehensions for the safety of New York, and led him to forget all
danger in any other quarter.

While the mind of the British commander remained in this situation, a

sudden reverse took place on the part of America. Their measures
were disconcerted, their operations slow; and for a time they
appeared as indecisive in their determinations, though not so divided
in their councils, as the commanders of the British troops. The
energies of a few leading characters were not sufficient to control the
many in the several states who in their present disconnected police
must all be consulted.

In spite of the exertions and the zeal of individuals, the requisitions

from the respective states came in for some time, but slowly. Many of
those which were sent on to complete the battalions, were very far
from being strong, effective men. Some companies appeared to be a
rabble of boys; others very unfit for immediate service; and the
numbers far short of the calculations in the British camp, where
imagination had multiplied them almost to a Russian. army.

In short, it was found that it was impossible to establish an army at a

call, fit for duty at the moment of their entrance in the field. Nor was it
less difficult, in the existing circumstances of the infant republic, to
provide at once for the exigencies which the magnitude of military
enterprise at this time required. The design, if it ever was really
intended, of assaulting that post and reducing New York, was a
second time relinquished. The apprehensions of Sir Henry Clinton
that a similar enterprise would have been attempted the preceding
winder had not continued long, before other objects intervened, which
opened new views to both the British and American commanders.

A different system was adopted from that expected by both sides on

the opening of the summer campaign. This might probably have
been owing in part to the information recently given by Colonel
Laurens, who had lately arrived from France. He had immediately
repaired to the southward and reached the headquarters of the
combined army in the month of August. The most interested part of
this intelligence was that an alliance had been renewed between the
Emperor of Germany and the King of Great Britain; that the Emperor
had sent out a considerable reinforcement to the aid of the British
commanders in America, and that additional troops were to follow;
that this had greatly encouraged the Court of Britain, and was not a
pleasing circumstance to France.

It yet remains doubtful whether it was a stroke of generalship or the

necessity of taking new ground that induced the Count de
Rochambeau and General Washington secretly to draw off most of
the continental and French troops at a period when they momently
expected orders for an attack on the city of New York. It is success
oftener than judgment that crowns the military character; and as
fortune followed their footsteps, few, if any, doubted the superiority of
genius that dictated the measure. The movement was sudden, and
the march rapid. The combined army crossed the North River on
August 24. They moved on hastily to Philadelphia; and by a difficult
and fatiguing route, reached Williamsburg in Virginia on September
14.

Sir Henry Clinton, apprehensive only for New York, had not the
smallest suspicion of this maneuver. By the address of a few
Americans left behind for that purpose, every appearance of an
attack on New York was for a time kept up. The deception was so
complete and the maneuvers of the American commander so
judicious that the British themselves acknowledged their won was
fairly out-generaled. The illusion was so well calculated for the
purpose that its effects were fully adequate to the design. The British
commander continued his diligence in preparing for the reception of
the combined armies.

The intelligence, at this time, of an alliance between his Britannic

Majesty and the Emperor of Germany, and the arrival of 2000 or 3000
German troops gave an exhilaration of spirits to the city, to the
soldiers, and to the general, who, from the protraction of the illusion
without, had the highest reason to expect the assault of their works
would not much longer be delayed by the Americans. Though General
Clinton had received intelligence that the French squadron had left
Rhode Island, he did not yet dream that they were destined to the
Chesapeake, or that Washington and Rochambeau had adopted a
new system. It was long before he could be persuaded to believe that
they were concentrating their forces and moving southward, with
design effectually to defeat all farther attempts on Virginia, and stop
the progress of the British arms in the Carolinas.

It was indeed too long for the interest of the Crown of Great Britain
before Sir Henry Clinton could prevail with himself to look beyond the
defense of New York. But when he found the allied armies had in
reality marched toward Virginia, he did not neglect his duty. He
countermanded the orders to Lord Cornwallis of sending a part of his
troops to New York, and made all possible preparations to support
him. He sent on a fresh detachment of troops, and made
arrangements to follow them himself with a hope of being timely
enough for the relief of His Lordship.

In the mean time, the fortunate arrival of the Count de Grasse in the
Chesapeake hastened the decision of important events. A short
passage from the West Indies transported the French fleet under his
command safely to the Capes of Virginia, where they arrived on
August 30. No intelligence of his near approach had reached the
British quarters; nor could anything have been more unexpected to
the British naval commander, Sir Samuel Hood, who arrived soon
after in the Chesapeake, than to find a Gallic squadron of 28 sail lying
there in perfect security.

Commodore Hood, who arrived from the West Indies soon after the
middle of August, with near 20 sail of the line, joined the squadron
under Admiral Graves before New York. He was solicitous to have
sailed immediately to the Chesapeake with all the naval strength that
was not necessary to be left for the defense of New York. But an
unaccountable delay took place which in his opinion could not be
justified; and however it counteracted his inclination, it was too late
before he sailed. He did not reach the Chesapeake until September
5 -- six days after the arrival there of the Count de Grasse. The
French fleet had not been discovered by the British commander, nor
had he gained any intelligence that de Grasse was on the American
coast until the morning of September 5, when the English observed
them in full view within Cape Henry.

Nothing could have been more mortifying to a man of the spirit and
enterprise of Sir Samuel Hood than to find so respectable a French
fleet had arrived in the Chesapeake before him. The national rivalry,
prejudices, and hatred of the British commanders, and the gallant
English seamen could not be suppressed on such an occasion.
These were a strong stimulus to immediate action, which had their full
effect. The pride and valor of a renowned British commander could
not admit of the smallest delay; and the boldness of English seamen
urged all with the utmost alacrity to prepare for an engagement.

The British maritime force that had now arrived was nearly equal to
the French squadron under Count de Grasse. Both fleets
immediately moved, and a spirited action ensured. Equal gallantry
was exhibited, but neither side could boast of victory. The ships on
both sides were considerably injured, and one British 74 rendered
totally unfit for service; to this they set fire themselves. The loss of
men was on the usual average of naval action. The English, indeed,
were not beaten, but the French gained a double advantage. For
while the Count de Grasse remained at a distance, watched by the
British navy, he secured the passage of the Count de Barras from
Rhode Island, and gained to himself the advantage of first blocking up
the Chesapeake. The Count de Barras brought with him the French
troops from Rhode Island, amounting to about 3000 men. These
joined the Marquis de la Fayette, whose numbers had been greatly
reduced. This reinforcement enabled him to support himself by
defensive operations until, in a short time, they were all happily united
under the command of the valiant Rochambeau.

The British fleet continued a few days in the Chesapeake. Their ships
were much injured; and in a council of war it was determined to be
necessary for the whole fleet to return to New York, to refit and
prepare for a second expedition. This they had reason to flatter
themselves would be more successful, as they were sure of a great
acquisition of strength on the arrival of Lord Digby, who was hourly
expected with a with a reinforcement from England.

While Sir Henry Clinton remained in suspense with regard to the

operations in the Chesapeake, his anxiety prompted him to endeavor
to obtain immediate intelligence. He had no suspicion that he should
receive this by the return of Admiral Graves and the respectable
squadron under his command; and before the untoward
circumstances which occasioned this had reached New York, his
impatience had urged him to send on a gallant officer with letters to
Lord Cornwallis. Major Cochran executed this business at no small
hazard. The British fleet had left the Capes of Virginia before his
arrival; but at every risk, he ran through the whole French fleet in an
open boat. He landed safely, delivered his dispatches, and
immediately had his head shot off by a cannonball. Thus this
unfortunate officer had not a moment to rejoice in the success of his
bravery.

After the return of the fleet to New York, it might reasonably have been
expected that Sir Henry Clinton would have acted with more decision
and energy. Previous to this unfortunate transaction, it had been
determined in a council of war to send 5000 men to the aid of Lord
Cornwallis. But the spirit of delay still pervaded the mind of the
British commander. He thought proper yet further to postpone this
wise measure, from a motive which he doubtless considered
justifiable. This was to wait a little longer of the arrival of Admiral
Digby; whose junction with the forces already in New York he judged
would insure victory over the combination of France and America,
both by sea and land. Flattering letters were again sent on to Lord
Cornwallis; but promises and distant expectations were far from being
adequate to the relief of a mind borne down by disappointment and
the failure of the means of supporting his own military character. He
was also sensible that the dignity of command and the royal cause
were suffering by delay, indecision, and, as he thought, from less
justifiable motives. He was exhorted to hold out until about October
12, when Sir Henry Clinton thought it probable he might receive
assistance, if no unavoidable accident should take place; or at
farthest by the middle of November. At the same time, he intimated
that if His Lordship should be reduced to the utmost extremity, before
the arrival of reinforcements, he himself would endeavor to make a
diversion by an attack on Philadelphia, in order to draw off a part of
Washington's army. [See Sir Henry Clinton's letter to Lord Cornwallis,
dated September 30, 1781.] These all appeared to Lord Cornwallis
very undigested, absurd, and inconsistent ideas. He immediately
informed Sir Henry Clinton that he saw no means of forming a
junction with him but by York River, and that no meditated diversion
toward Philadelphia or anywhere else could be of any use.

Lord Digby, however, arrived at New York on September 29. One of

the princes [This was Prince Henry, the Duke of Clarence] of the
blood had taken this opportunity to visit America, probably with a view
of sovereignty over a part, or the whole of the conquered colonies.
This was still anticipated at the Court of St. James; and perhaps, in
the opinion of the royal parents, an American establishment might be
very convenient for one of their numerous progeny.

Lord Digby was several days detained at New York before

arrangements were made for the embarkation of the troops to
reinforce Lord Cornwallis, and for the sailing of the might naval
armament for the Chesapeake. In the mean time, Sir Henry Clinton
busied himself in writing letters full of specious promises, as if artfully
designed to buoy up the hopes of Lord Cornwallis by strong
assurances that no time should be lost in sending forward a force
sufficient for his relief. He informed him that a fleet under the
commander of Lord Digby, who had recently arrived at New York,
would sail for the Chesapeake by October 5; that himself was nearly
ready to embark with a large body of troops; and, in the most
sanguine terms, exhorted His Lordship to endeavor to keep his
opponents in play, and to hold out against every discouragement until
he should receive the needful assistance, which another British fleet
and the addition of a body of troops headed by himself, would secure.

These flattering assurances and pressing entreaties from the

commander in chief induced Lord Cornwallis to evade a general
action. It was his opinion that when the combined troops arrived, he
could only attempt the defense of Yorktown. He was posted there by
General Clinton's express orders, contrary to his own judgment.
He had always (as has been before observed) thought this an
ineligible situation and far from being long defensible, without much
larger reinforcements both by land and sea, than he had reason to
expect would arrive seasonably.

His situation had been for some time truly distressing. Embarrassed
between his own opinion and the orders of his superior in command,
flattered by the promise of timely relief, and that in such force as to
enable him to cope with the untied armies of France and America, he
thought it his duty to wait the result, and not suffer himself to be
impelled by contingent circumstances to risk his army beyond the
probability of success. This prevented any advance to action, at the
same time that it forbid his endeavoring to retreat from Virginia, until
too late, when he had only to wait suspended between hope and fear,
the uncertain chances of war. He acknowledged afterwards that, had
he seasonably retired toward Carolina, though the attempt would
have been difficult, he might have saved his army from their
impending fate.

Though the courage and the inclination of Lord Cornwallis might

prompt him, in his present circumstances, to lead out his troops and
hazard an engagement in the open field, yet his judgment or his
prudence could not justify the risk, while he had the smallest hopes
that a few days might place him in a situation to combat on more
equal terms. His destiny often marked by disappointment, he had at
the same time much reason to despair of a successful termination of
the campaign, even if the forces from New York should arrive in
season. Yet, he observed to Sir Henry Clinton that "if he had no
hopes of relief he should rather risk a general action than attempt to
defend his half-finished works. But, as you say Digby is hourly
expected, and promise every exertion to assist me, I do not think
myself justified in putting the fate of the war on so desperate an
attempt."

The British commander was fully apprised of the difficulties that would
attend his armament under existing circumstances, even if the troops
from New York should arrive before his fate was decided. The mouth
of the river was blocked up by a very large French fleet. The
American army in high health and spirits, strengthened by daily
recruits led by Washington, in whom they had the highest confidence,
in conjunction with a fine army of Gallicans, headed by the Count de
Rochambeau, an officer of courage, experience, and ability, were
making rapid advances. On September 28, they had left
Williamsburg, and on October 6, they opened their trenches before
Yorktown.

His Lordship determined, however, notwithstanding the choice of

difficulties that pressed upon him, to make the best possible defense.
His army was worn down by sickness and fatigue, but there was no
want of resolution or valor. His officers were intrepid, and his men
brave. They acquitted themselves with spirit; and kept either ground
from October 6 to 16, when they became convinced that the abilities
and the experience of the Count of Rochambeau, the cool equanimity
of General Washington, and the vigor and valor of their officers and
troops rendered the united army irresistible in the present situation of
their opponents.

Lord Cornwallis had now only to choose between an immediate

surrender or an effort to escape and save a part of his army by flight.
He contemplated either a retreat southward or an endeavor to force
his way through the states between Virginia and New York, to join
General Clinton. But, equally hazardous, he determined on the last
expedient. For this purpose, he, with the utmost secrecy, passed in
the night of the 16th the greatest part of his army from Yorktown to
Gloucester leaving only a detachment behind to capitulate for the
town's people, the sick, and the wounded.

But fortune did not favor the enterprise. It is true the boats had an
easy passage, but at the critical moment of landing hi men, His
Lordship observed that "the weather suddenly changed from
moderate and calm to a violent storm of rain and wind, that carried
the boats down the river with many of the troops who had not time to
disembark. It was soon evident that the intended passage was
impracticable; and the absence of the boats rendered it equally
impossible to bring back the troops that had passed, which I had
ordered about two in the morning." [Lord Cornwallis to General
Clinton.] Here the serious mind will naturally reflect how often the
providential interference of the elements defeat what appears to be
the most judicious design of the short-sighted creature, man.

The state of Lord Cornwallis's mind at this time, the insurmountable

difficulties of his situation previous to his surrender, and the
subsequent consequences may be seen at large in his letter to Sir
Henry Clinton, dated October 21, 1781. [see Note 1 at the end of this
chapter.]

In this letter, he details the circumstances of his disappointment, in the

last mode adopted for the safety of his army. It has been observed
that his troops were dispersed by the storm, by which the boats were
driven down the river, though some of them returned to Yorktown the
ensuing day. Desperate as was the situation of the British troops, a
feint of resistance was still made by an order to Lieutenant Colonel
Abercrombie, to sally out with 400 men, to advance, attack, and spike
the cannon of two batteries which were nearly finished. This
excursion was executed with spirit and success, but attended with no
very important consequences. [Several reconnoitering parties on both
sides met and skirmished during the siege. In one of these, Colonel
Scammel, a brave American officer who was respected and beloved
for the excellence of his private character, was captured by some
British partisans. He surrendered and delivered his sword, the usual
signal of submission, after which he was mortally wounded by one of
the British. He expired after languishing a day or two.]

The combined armies of France and America had continued their

vigorous operations without the smallest intermission, until prepared
for the last assault on the town, which they began at the dawn of the
morning after the circumstances above related had taken place. In
this hopeless condition, his own works in ruins, most of his troops
sick, wounded, or fatigued, and without rational expectation of relief
from any quarter, the British commander found it necessary, in order
to escape the inevitable consequence of further resistance, to
propose terms of submission.

Lord Cornwallis, confident of the humanity and politeness of his

antagonists, made proposals on the 17th to the commanders of the
combined army, for a cessation of hostilities for 24 hours. This was
granted; but toward the expiration of the term, General Washington,
in a letter to the British commander, acquainted him that desirous to
spare the farther effusion of blood, he was ready to listen to such
terms of surrender as might be admissible; and that he wished,
previous to the meeting of any commissioners for that purpose, to
have His Lordship's proposals in writing. At the same time, he
informed Lord Cornwallis that after the delivery of this letter only two
hours of suspension of hostilities would be granted for consideration.

The time limited being thus short, the British commander, without a
detail of many particulars, proposed terms of capitulation in a very
concise manner.

General Washington, equally perspicuous and decisive, in a few

words intimated to His Lordship the only terms that would be
accepted; that if his proposals were rejected, hostilities would be
recommenced within two hours of delivery of these terms.

In consequence of these negotiations between the commanders,

commissioners were immediately appointed to prepare and digest the
articles of capitulation. It is not easy to conceive or to relate the
mortification His Lordship must have felt at seeing his troops
conquered by superior prowess and good fortune, and laying down
their arms at the feet of the victorious Washington. This chagrin was
undoubtedly much heightened by the necessity of submitting to terms
imposed in conjunction with the servants of a rival power, whom the
Kings of Great Britain, and the nation they govern, had viewed for
many centuries with hatred and detestation.

The gentlemen appointed on the part of America to draw up the

articles of capitulation were the Count de Noailles, a French
nobleman who had served as an officer in the defense of the United
States for a considerable time, and Colon John Laurens, a
distinguished character, a son of the unfortunate ambassador who
had been deputed to negotiate in behalf of America at the Hague, but
at this time was confined in the Tower of London, and very severely
treated.

The singularity of some circumstance relative to this gentleman

cannot be passed over unnoticed in this place. He was suffering a
rigorous imprisonment in England. He had presented a petition for
some amelioration of the severities exercised against him. This was
rejected; his veracity disputed by the minister; and his detention
justified by Lord Mansfield as legal, politic, and necessary to prevent
the accomplishing

of his pernicious projects. [See Parliamentary Debates.]

By a strange concurrence of events, the Earl Cornwallis, constable of

the Tower of London, was now on the point of becoming a prisoner
and submitting to articles of surrender for himself and his army, under
the dictation of the son of Mr. Laurens, the same gentleman
heretofore alluded to, when an attempt was made by the British
administration to corrupt the integrity of both father and son. By the
capitulation, His Lordship was reduced to the humiliating condition of
a prisoner to the American Congress, while the father of Colonel
Laurens remained shut up in the Tower, a prisoner to the captured
Earl.
However, as soon as circumstances permitted, an interchange of
prisoners took place. The noble Lord, who with his army fell into the
hands of the American commander, was restored to liberty by an
exchange for Mr. Laurens, who had long languished in the Tower of
London. The Court of Britain had before rejected the proposal that
Mr. Laurens should be exchanged for General Burgoyne; but they
were soon after this glad to receive an officer of equal rank to almost
any in the nation in exchanged for the American minister.

A detail of the particular articles of capitulation may not be necessary;

for them the reader is referred to Note 2 at the end of this chapter. It
is enough to observe at present that the British army as permitted
only the same honors of war that Lord Cornwallis had granted the
Americans on the surrender of Charleston the preceding year. The
officers were allowed their side-arms, but the troops marched with
their colors cased and made their submission to General Lincoln,
precisely in the same manner his army had done to the British
commander, a few months before.

Here we cannot but pause a moment to reflect on the vicissitudes of

human life, the accidents of war, or rather the designations of
Providence, that one day lift the pinnacle of human triumph, and
another smite the laurel from the brow of the conqueror and humble
the proud victor at the feet of his former prisoner.

As General Lincoln had recently felt the mortification of yielding

himself and his troops into the hands of the royal army, he was
selected to conduct the military parade, and receive the submission
of the British veterans. His might be thought by some to wear rather
too much the air of triumph; but it was judged a kind of compensation
for his own military misfortunes, while it might call into exercise the
feelings of benevolence. These ever operate more strongly on the
human character from the experience of sufferings, except in such
ferocious minds as are actuated only by the principles of revenge.
This was far from being the spirit of Americans. Their victories were
generally accompanied with so much moderation that even their
enemies acknowledged their generosity. General Burgoyne and
others had often done this; and Lord Cornwallis now expressed both
pleasure an surprise at the civility, kindness, and attention shown by
the victor to the vanquished foe. In a letter to Sir Henry Clinton, after
mentioning the Americans in very handsome terms, His Lordship
observed that "he could not describe the delicate sensibility of the
French officers on this occasion;" and that "he hoped their conduct
would make an impression in the breast of every British officer, when
the fortune of war might again put any prisoners, either American or
French, in the power of that nation."

Thus terminated the efforts of administration to reduce the United

States by first conquering the southern colonies. On October 19,
1781, a second British army yielded themselves prisoners to the
Confederated States of America. The humiliation of the present
captured army, as above observed, was enhanced by the
circumstances that made it necessary for the British battalions to bow
beneath the banners of their hereditary enemies of France, in
conjunction with the stars of America. [The American standard at this
time was ornamented with only thirteen stars.] One of these armies,
before its capture, had ostentatiously anticipated the conquest of the
north; the other had enjoyed the cruel triumph of devastation and
spoil, through the warmer latitudes of the south.

With incredible fatigue and fortitude and no less zeal and havoc had
the British army and the royal partisans belonging to the American
states who had joined them, harassed and spread terror and
desolation for many months, from the borders of Georgia to the
extremities of Virginia.

Within five days after the surrender of all the posts that had been held
by Lord Cornwallis, a British fleet from New York under the command
of Lord Digby, with Sir Henry Clinton and 7000 troops on board,
entered the Bay of Chesapeake in full confidence of success; but to
their inexpressible mortification, they had only to appear and retreat.

By the capitulation, all the shipping in the harbor was left to the
disposal of the Count de Grasse, with the exception only of the
Bonetta sloop of war. This was granted to Lord Cornwallis to carry
his dispatches to New York. It included the liberty of conveying as
many of his troops as was convenient to be exchanged for an equal
number of American prisoners. His humanity prompted him to avoid
himself of this liberty, to ship off, instead of soldiers, the most
obnoxious of the loyalists, terrified beyond description at the idea of
falling into the hands of their countrymen, against whom they had
made every exertion, both by their influence and their arms. After the
return of the Bonetta, as stipulated, she also was to be delivered at
the order of the French Admiral.

The delay of reinforcements both by sea and land, until Lord

Cornwallis and his army were irretrievably lost, was a misfortune and
a neglect that could not easily be excused or forgiven, either by the
ministry, the nation, or the numerous friends of this unfortunate
nobleman. Much altercation took place afterwards between Sir Henry
Clinton and Lord Cornwallis, with little satisfaction to the wounded
feelings of the last and as little advantage to the sinking character of
the first.

The surrender of Lord Cornwallis's army was an event that produced

more conviction in the minds of men that the American colonies could
not be conquered by the arms of Great Britain, than any circumstance
that had previously taken place. It was asserted by some British
writers at the time that "this was an event which carried a kind of
irresistible conviction with it, even to those who were the least inclined
to the admission of so humiliating a truth. When it was seen that the
most distinguished and successful general that had engaged in the
royal cause was obliged to surrender himself and his whole army
prisoners of war, the generality even of those who had been the most
earnest for the subjugation of America, began now to be convinced
that it was totally impracticable. But those who had a sincere regard
for the honor and interests of Great Britain could not reflect but with
the utmost regret that nearly 100 millions of money should have been
expended, and so many thousand valuable lives lost in this unhappy
contest; in a contest which had produced nothing but the loss of our
American colonies, an accumulation of the public debt, an enormous
load of taxes, and a great degree of national dishonor; and which had
afforded too much ground for the triumph and exultation of our most
inveterate enemies." [British Annual Register for 1781.]

The defense of Yorktown and Gloucester had always appeared

chimerical to the British commander in Virginia. Yet from the printed
correspondence afterwards in every hand, he appeared perfectly right
in his adherence to the orders of General Clinton, and justifiable in his
endeavors to support himself there, until the promised reinforcements
should arrive.

No man ever appeared more embarrassed when dangers approached

or more indecisive in many instances of his conduct through the
course of his American command than Sir Henry Clinton. Yet he was
not deemed deficient in point of courage. Though he never
discovered, either in design or execution, those traits of genius or
capacity that mark the great man or the hero.

He had often been mistaken in his calculations, as had most of the

British commanders, with regard to the ability, vigor, and valor of
American troops. But combined with a European army, commanded
by officers of the first military knowledge and experience, and the
number that flocked with alacrity tot he American standard, as they
moved southward, in the fullest confidence in the judgment and
abilities of General Washington, were circumstances sufficient to
have eradicated those opinions, and to have quickened the
movements of the commander at New York, in the same ratio that it
awakened the apprehensions of an officer of more judgment in
Virginia.

But whatever impression a combination of French and American

troops might at that time make on the mind, yet the hereditary hatred
of the one, and the affected contempt of the other, had always led the
commanders of Albion armies to hold the haughty language
characteristic of the national pride of Britain. After this period, the
defeat of their armies and their most renowned officers taught them a
more humble deportment, and more just and modest accents were
dictated from the lip of captured generals.

The comparative military merits of the distinguished British characters

that figured and fell in America may be left to the master of tactics to
decide. But it may not be improper to observe that the tribute of
applause, both for generalship and abilities, may be more justly
attributed to Lord Cornwallis than to Sir Henry Clinton.
Notwithstanding the unfortunate conclusion of His Lordship's
southern campaign, he was doubtless a man of understanding,
discernment, and military talents, better qualified to act from his own
judgment than as subordinate to General Clinton.

Nothing of the kind could exceed the exhilaration of spirits that

appeared throughout America on the defeat at Yorktown and the
capture of the British army. The thanks of Congress were given and
recorded on their journals to the Count de Rochambeau, General
Washington, and the Count de Grasse; expressive of the sense they
had of their merits and the high esteem they felt for the services they
had rendered to the United States. Public rejoicings were
everywhere displayed by the usual popular exhibitions.
Thanksgivings were offered at the sacred altars; and the truly
religious daily poured out of their orisons of praise for the interposition
of Divine Providence in favor of the American states.

By other descriptions of persons, little less gratitude and devotion was

expressed toward Washington, Rochambeau, and the Count de
Grasse. They were the subjects of their eulogies and their anthems;
the admiration of the brave, and the idols of other multitude; and in
the complimentary addresses of all, they were designated the
instruments of their salvation, the deliverers from impending ruin, and
the protectors from the concomitant evils of protracted war. [The
Americans did not soon forget the merits or the services of the Count
de Grasse. Their gratitude and respect for his memory was exhibited
by Congress, who generously pensioned four of his hapless
daughters, who arrived in the Massachusetts in extreme poverty, after
the ruin of their family in the general wreck of nobility and the
destruction of monarchy in France.]

Among the horrors that attend the operations of hostile armies, the
situation of those unfortunate men captured by their enemies is none
of the least. There has yet been no attempt in these annals at a
particular description of the sufferings of those victims of misery. The
compassionate heart would rather draw a veil over those principles in
human nature, which too often prompt to aggravate, rather than to
relieve, the afflictions of the wretched, who are thrown into the hands
of their enemies by the uncertain chances of war.

In consequence of the capture of Lord Cornwallis and his army, and

some other decided strokes of success in the southern states, a
general exchange of prisoners soon after took place between the
hostile parties. There were doubtless many instances of individual
cruelty and unjustifiable rigor exercised toward prisoners who fell into
American hands. Impartiality forbids any extenuation of such conduct
on either side. It has been alleged by some that, instigated by the
shocking inhumanity inflicted on their countrymen, retaliation and
summary punishment was in some instances necessary; but this will
not excuse a deviation from the laws of benevolence, and is far from
being a sufficient plea for the victor to enhance the sufferings of the
vanquished.

Yet it must be allowed that the general treatment of this unhappy class
of man by the contending powers will not bear a comparative survey.
Many of the captured Americans were sent to Great Britain, where
they were for a time treated with almost every severity short of death.
Some of them were transported to the East Indies; others put to
menial services on board their ships; but after some time had elapse,
those in general who were conveyed to England might be deemed
happy when their sufferings were contrasted with those of their
countrymen who perished on board the prison ships in America,
under the eye of British commanders of renown and who in many
respects were civilized and polite.

No time will wipe off the stigma that is left on the names of Clinton and
Howe, when posterity look over the calculations, and find the during
six years of their command in New York, 11,000 Americans died on
board the Jersey, a single prison ship, stationed before that city for
the reception of those victims of despair. Nor was the proportion
smaller of those who perished in their other jails, dungeons, and
prison hulks.

It is true that in England, the language of government held up all the

American prisoners as rebels, traitors, insurgents, and pirates. Yet
this did not prevent the compassionate heart from the exercise of the
benign virtues of charity and brotherly kindness. The lenient hand of
many individuals as stretched out for their relief. Subscriptions were
repeatedly set on foot and very liberal donations were made by
several characters of high rank; and many well disposed persons
exhibited the most generous proofs of compassion to the languid
prisoner.

This charitable department was not confined within the circle of those
who had either secretly or openly avowed themselves the friends, or
had advocated the principles of the American opposition. For some
time before peace took place, more lenient measures were observed
by government toward those who were captured and carried to
England. They were considered and treated as prisoners of war;
 compassion as everywhere extended to the unfortunate strangers;
and the liberal contributions of various classes ameliorated their
sufferings in a distant land, where no tender connections could
extend the hand of pity. While their sorrows were being softened,
their brethren in America, in the neighborhood of parents, children,
and the most affectionate partners, not permitted to receive from
them the necessary relief, were dying by thousands, amid famine,
filth, an disease.

Great efforts had been made for earlier relief to many of the sufferers
of every condition, but without effect. Not even General Burgoyne
had yet been exchanged; from the many difficulties that arose with
regard to the Convention at Saratoga he was still held on parole as a
prisoner. The various delays and equivocations relative to the
detention of this gentleman and the refusal of the minister to
exchange him for Mr. Laurens had induced Congress to summon him
to return to America, agreeable to his parole. The ill state of health to
which this unfortunate officer was reduced, from his fatigue of body in
long military services, and his vexation of mind in consequence of the
ill treatment of his employers, prevented his compliance with this
requisition. General Clinton endeavored, as far as in his power, to
procure his exchange; but as no officer of equal rank as then in the
hands of the Americans, it had been stipulated that 1040 men should
be given for his ransom. This was humorously said by a member of
Parliament [Mr. Burke], to be a fair equivalent -- "a quantity of silver
for a piece of gold."

General Burgoyne very justly thought himself highly injured by the

treatment of the ministry; but he observed himself in the House of
Commons, in the beginning of the session of the ensuring winter that
he had not complained though every officer in the army, down to the
sergeants, had been exchanged. He said, however, that he acceded
to the propriety of this, because he had resigned his commission, and
thereby put himself into a situation, which rendered it impossible for
him to be of any service to his country in a military capacity. He also
observed that he thought it more proper that those should be first
exchanged, from whose exertions in the field the nation might receive
advantage. But, with the spirit of a man of honor and an officer of
resolution, he declared that "sooner than condescend either to seek or
to receive the smallest favor, from the hands of men who had heaped
the grossest injuries on his head, he would even return to America,
be locked up in the gloomiest dungeon which the Congress might
assign him, and devote himself as that sacrifice, which his enemies
had long endeavored to offer up to their resentment." [Parliamentary
Debates.]

General Burgoyne observed that the circumstances of the Cedars

men, which had been the subject of so much altercation, was well
known to the ministry; and he thought all who knew the resolution of
Congress on that subject as well as himself, must be convinced that
the conduct of the ministry in this matter was very singular and
extraordinary. The determined spirit of that body was so well known
that a second proposition to exchange the Cedars men for him could
be calculated only to delay or prevent his release. He added "that it
was surely singularly hard that he should be the only one of all the
army that had surrendered at Saratoga, who had not been included in
the exchange of prisoners and restored to liberty. It was an injustice
beyond all example that every officer and every man in the army
should have received the valuable privilege of freedom, and that he
alone, who was commander in chief on that occasion, should still be
continued a prisoner."

The dispute in point was concisely this: The British government

insisted that a party of Americans, who some time before the
Convention at Saratoga had been taken at a place called the Cedars
and had made their escape, should still be considered as their
prisoners; and offered them as part of the number stipulated for the

exchange of General Burgoyne. This Congress peremptorily refused;

and demanded the whole number agreed on, exclusive of the Cedars
men, for the release of the British commander from his parole. They
did not consider the party at the Cedars, who had been surprised, but
not held in duress, as the description of men to be exchanged for a
British general.

The mutual charges of breaches of the articles, between Congress

and the British commander, occasioned a long and grievous captivity
to the convention troops. As

each side justified their own conduct and no compromise could be

made in the state of things which had long existed, these unfortunate
men had been removed by order of Congress from Cambridge, and
conducted to the interior parts of one of the southern states. There
they remained until the auspicious events above related returned
them to the bosom of their country and friend, in lieu of an equal
number of Americans, who had many of them languished for as long
a period in the dreary apartments assigned the prisoners in New
York, Charleston, and wherever else British headquarters were
established in any part of the United States.

The American Congress, in a few weeks after the termination of the

campaign in Virginia, resolved that as a preliminary to the discharge
of the convention troops, all accounts of expenditures for their
support should be immediately settled and discharged. At the same
time, they authorized General Washington to set Lord Cornwallis at
liberty, on condition of the complete liberation of Mr. Laurens. These
several proposals and demands were made and received in England
in the beginning of the winder, 1782.

On the offer of the Congress of the United States, immediately to

release Lord Cornwallis on fair and honorable terms, Mr. Burke, with
his usual dexterity of combining and bringing into view objects the
most striking and impressive on the passions of men, observed that
the British ministry had been brought to some sense of justice in a
moment; "warned by a star that had arisen, not in the east, but in the
west, which had convinced them of the danger of longer persevering
in their unmanly, revengeful, and rigid treatment of Mr. Laurens. This
was no other than the news arriving that the son of Mr. Laurens, a
brave, worthy, and accomplished officer in the American service, had
Earl Cornwallis in his custody; and that his treatment of his noble
prisoner was directly the reverse of that experienced by Mr. Laurens's
father, who was then locked up in that Tower, of which Lord Cornwallis
was the constable."

Mr. Burke, in a very pathetic style, detailed the variety of sufferings,

hardships, and injustice which had been inflicted on Mr. Laurens
during his long imprisonment. This, with other instances of severe or
injudicious treatment of prisoners, he made the groundwork of a
proposed bill to obviate the difficulties arising from the present mode
of exchanging American prisoners; a mode which, re remarked, was
at once disgraceful and inconvenient to the government of the
kingdom. He urged that "motives of humanity, of sound policy, and of
common sense called loudly for a new law, establishing a regulation
totally different from the present, which was fundamentally
erroneous." However, Mr. Laurens obtained his release from the
circumstances above mentioned, before any new regulation of the
British code of laws relative to prisoners or any other object took
place.

******************

Note 1

Earl Cornwallis to Sir Henry Clinton, K. B., dated Yorktown, Virginia,

October 21, 1781

"Sir,

"I have the mortification to inform Your Excellency that I have been
forced to give up the posts of York and Gloucester and to surrender
the troops under my command by capitulation on the 19th instant, as
prisoners of war, to the combined forces of America and France.

"I never saw this post in a very favorable light; but when I found I was
to be attacked in it, in so unprepared a state, by so powerful an army
and artillery, nothing but the hopes of relief would have induced me to
attempt its defense; for I would either have endeavored to go to New
York, by rapid marches from Gloucester side, immediately on the
arrival of General Washington's troops at Williamsburg, or I would
notwithstanding the disparity of numbers, have attacked them in the
open field, where it might have been just possible that fortune would
have favored the gallantry of the handful of troops under my
command. But being assured by Your Excellency's letters that every
possible means would be tried by the navy and army to relieve us, I
could not think myself at liberty to venture upon either of those
desperate attempts. Therefore, after remaining for two days in a
strong position in front of the place, in hopes of being attacked, upon
observing that the enemy were taking measures which could not fail
of turning my left flank in a short time; and receiving on the second
evening your letter of September 24, informing that the relief would
sail about October 5, I withdrew within the works on the night of
September 29, hoping by the labor and firmness of the soldiers to
protract the defense until you could arrive. Everything was to be
expected from the spirit of the troops, but every disadvantage
attended their labor, as the works were to be continued under the
enemy's fire, and our stock of entrenching tools, which did not much
exceed 400, when we began to work in the latter end of August, was
now much diminished.

"The enemy broke ground on the night of the 30th and constructed on
that night and on the two following days and nights, two redoubts,
which, with some works that had belonged to our outward position,
occupied a gorge between two creeks or ravines, which come from
the river on each side of the town. On the night October 6, they made
their first parallel, extending from its right on the river to a deep ravine
on the left, nearly opposite to the center of this place, and embracing
our whole left, at the distance of 600 yards. Having perfected this
parallel, their batteries opened on the evening of the 9th, against our
left, and other batteries fired at the same time against a redoubt
advanced over he creek on our right, and defended by about 120
men of the 23rd Regiment and Marines, who maintained that post
with uncommon gallantry. The fire continued incessant from heavy
cannon and from mortars and howitzers, throwing shells from 8 to 16
inches, until all our guns on the left were silenced, our work much
damaged, and our loss of men considerable. On the night of the
11th, they began their second parallel, about 300 yards nearer to us;
the troops being much weakened by sickness, as well as by the fire of
the besiegers, and observing that the enemy had not only secured
their flanks, but proceeded in every respect with the utmost regularity
and caution, I could not venture so large sorties as to hope from them
any considerable effect. But otherwise, I did everything in my power
to interrupt this work, by opening new embrasures for guns, and
keeping up a constant fire with all the howitzers, and small mortars
that we could man. On the evening of the 14th, they assaulted and
carried two redoubts that had been advanced about 300 yards, for
the purpose of delaying their approaches and covering our left flank,
and during their approaches and covering our left flank, and during
the night enclosed them in their second parallel, on which they
continued to work with the utmost exertion. Being perfectly sensible
that our work could not stand many hours after the opening of the
batteries of that parallel, we not only continued a constant fire with all
our mortars, and every gun that could be brought to bear on it, but a
little before daybreak, on the morning of the 16th, I ordered a sortie of
about 350 men, under the direction of Lieutenant Colonel
Abercrombie, to attack two batteries which appeared to be in the
greatest forwardness, and to spike the guns. A detachment of guards,
with the 8th Company of Grenadiers, under the command of
Lieutenant Colonel Lake, attacked the one, and one of light infantry,
under the command of Major Armstrong, attacked the other, and both
succeeded in forcing the redoubts that covered
them, spiking 11 guns, and killing or wounding about 100 of the
French troops, who had the guard of that part of the trenches, and
with little loss on our side. This action, though extremely honorable to
the officers and soldiers who executed it, proved of little public
advantage; for the cannon, having been spiked in a hurry, were soon
rendered fit for service again, and before dark the whole parallel and
batteries appeared to e nearly complete. At this time, we knew that
there was no part of

the whole front attacked on which we could show a single gun, and
our shells were nearly expended. I, therefore, had only to choose
between preparing to surrender next day, or endeavoring to get off
with the greatest part of the troops; and I determined to attempt the
latter, reflecting that though it should prove unsuccessful in its
immediate object, it might at least delay the enemy in the prosecution
of farther enterprises. 16 large boats were prepared, and on other
pretexts were ordered to be in readiness to receive troops precisely
at 10 o'clock. With these, I hoped to pass the infantry during the
night, abandoning our baggage, and leaving a detachment to
capitulate for the town's people and the sick and wounded; on which
subject a letter was ready to be delivered to General Washington.
After making my arrangements with the utmost secrecy, the light
infantry, greatest part of the Guards, and part of the 23rd Regiment,
landed at Gloucester. But at this critical moment, the weather, from
being moderate and calm, changed to a most violent storm of wind
and rain, and drove all the boats, some of which had troops on board,
down the river. It was soon evident that the intended passage was
impracticable, and the absence of the boats rendered it equally
impossible to bring back the troops that had passed, which I had
ordered about 2 in the morning. In this situation, with my little force
divided, the enemies' batteries opened at daybreak. The passage
between this place and Gloucester was much exposed, but the boats
having now returned, they were ordered to bring back the troops that
had passed during the night; and they joined us in the forenoon,
without much loss. Our works were in the mean time going to ruin;
and not having been able to strengthen them by abbatis, nor in any
other manner but by a slight fraizing, which the enemy's artillery were
demolishing wherever they fired, my opinion entirely coincided with
that of the engineer and principal officers of the army, that they were in
many places assailable in the forenoon, and that by the continuance
of the same fire for a few hours longer, they would be in such a state
as to render it desperate with our numbers to attempt to maintain
them. We at that time could not fire a single gun, only one eighth
inch, and little more than a hundred cohorn shells remained. A
diversion by the French ships of war that lay at the mouth of the York
River was to be expected. Our number had been diminished by the
enemy's fire, but particularly by sickness, and the strength and spirits
of those in the works were much exhausted, by the fatigue of
constant watching and unremitting duty. Under all these
circumstances, I thought that it would have been wanton and inhuman
to the last degree to sacrifice the lives of this small body of gallant
soldiers who had ever behaved with so much fidelity and courage, by
exposing them to an assault, which, from the numbers and
precautions of the enemy, could not fail to succeed. I, therefore,
proposed to capitulate; and I have the honor to enclose to Your
Excellency the copy of the correspondence between General
Washington and me on that subject, and the terms of capitulation
agreed upon. I sincerely lament that better could not be obtained, but
I have neglected nothing in my power to alleviate the misfortunes and
distresses of both officers and soldiers. The men are well clothed and
provided with necessaries, and I trust will be regularly supplied by the
means of the officers that are permitted to remain with them...."

*********************

Note 2

Copy of articles of capitulation settled between His Excellency

General Washington, commander in chief of the combined forces of
America and France; His
Excellency the Count de Rochambeau, Lieutenant General of the
armies of the King of France, great cross of the Royal and Military
Order of St. Louis, commanding the auxiliary troops of His Most
Christian Majesty in America; and His Excellency the Count de
Grasse, Lieutenant General of the naval armies of His Most Christian
Majesty, commander of the Order of St. Louis, commander in chief of
the naval army of France in the Chesapeake, on the one part; and the
Right Honorable Earl Cornwallis, Lieutenant General of His Britannic
Majesty's forces, commanding the garrisons of York and Gloucester;
and Thomas Symmonds, Esquire, commanding His Britannic
Majesty's naval forces in York River in Virginia, on the other part.

Article 1 The garrisons of York and Gloucester, including the offers

and seamen of His Britannic Majesty's ships, as well as other
mariners, to surrender themselves prisoners of war to the combined
forces of America and France; the land troops to remain prisoners to
the United States; the navy to the naval army of His Most Christian
Majesty.

Granted.

Article 2 The artillery, arms, accouterments, military chest, and public

stores of every denomination shall be delivered unimpaired to the
heads of departments appointed to receive them.

Granted.

Article 3 At 12 o'clock this day the two redoubts on the left flank of
York to be delivered, the one to a detachment of American infantry,
the other to a detachment of French grenadiers.

Granted. The garrison of York will march out to a place to be

appointed, in front of the posts, at 2 o'clock precisely, with shouldered
arms, colors cased, and drums beating a British or German march.
They are then to ground their arms and return to their encampments,
where they will remain until they are dispatched to the places of their
destination. Two works on the Gloucester side will be delivered at 1
o'clock to a detachment of French and American troops appointed to
posses them. The garrison will march out at 3 o'clock in the
afternoon; the cavalry, with their swords drawn, trumpets sounding,
and the infantry in the manner prescribed or the garrison of York.
They are likewise to return to their encampments until they can be

finally marched off.

Article 4 Officers are to retain their side arms. Both officers and
soldiers to keep their private property of every kind; and no part of
their baggage or papers to be at any time subject to search or
inspection. The baggage and papers of officers and soldiers taken
during the siege to be likewise preserved for them.

Granted. It is understood that any property obviously belonging to the

inhabitants of these states in the possession of the garrison shall be
subject to be reclaimed.

Article 5 The soldiers to be kept in Virginia, Maryland, or

Pennsylvania, and as much by regiments as possible, and supplied
with the same rations of provisions as are allowed to soldiers in the
service of America. A field officer from each nation, to wit, British,
Anspach, and Hessian, and other officers on parole, in the proportion
of 1 to 50 men to be allowed to reside near their respective
regiments, to visit them frequently, and be witnesses of their
treatment, and that their officers may receive and deliver clothing and
other necessaries for them, for which passports are to be granted
when applied for.

Granted.
Article 6 The general, staff, and other officers not employed as
mentioned in the above articles and who choose it, to be permitted to
go on their parole to Europe, to New York, or to any other American
maritime posts at present in the possession of the British forces, at
their own option, and proper vessels to be granted by the Count de
Grasse to carry them under flags of truce to New York, within 10 days
from this date, if possible, and they to reside in a district to be agreed
upon hereafter, until they embark.

The officers of the civil department of other army and navy to be

included in this article. Passports to go by land to be granted to those
to whom vessels cannot be furnished.

Granted.

Article 7 Officers to be allowed to keep soldiers as servants, according

to the common practice of the service. Servants not soldiers are not
to be considered as prisoners, and are to be allowed to attend their
masters.

Granted.

Article 8 The Bonetta slop of war to be equipped and navigated by its

present captain and crew, and left entirely at the disposal of Lord
Cornwallis, from the hour that the capitulation is signed, to receive an
aid du camp to carry dispatches to Sir Henry Clinton; and such
soldiers as he may think proper to send to New York, to be permitted
to sail without examination. When his dispatches are ready, His
Lordship engages on this part that the ship shall be delivered to the
order of the Count de Grasse, if she escapes the danger of the sea;
that she shall not carry off any public stores. Any part of the crew that
may be deficient on her return and the soldiers passengers to be
accounted for on her delivery.
Article 9 The traders are to preserve their property, and to be allowed
three months to dispose of or remove them; and those traders are not
to be considered as prisoners of war.

The traders will be allowed to dispose of their effects, the allied army
having the right of pre-emption. The traders to be considered as
prisoners of war upon parole.

Article 10 Natives of inhabitants of different parts of this country at

present in York or Gloucester are not to be punished on account of
having joined the British army.

This article cannot be assented to, being altogether of civil resort.

Article 11 Proper hospitals to be furnished for the sick and wounded.

They are to be attended by their own surgeons on parole; and they
are to be furnished with medicines and stores from the American
hospitals.

The hospital stores now in York and Gloucester shall be delivered for
the use of the British sick and wounded. Passports will be granted,
for procuring them further supplies from New York, as occasion may
require; and proper hospitals will be furnished for the reception of the
sick and wounded of the two garrisons.

Article 12 Wagons to be furnished to carry the baggage of the officers

attending the soldiers and to surgeons when traveling on account of
the sick, attending the hospitals at public expense.

They are to be furnished is possible.

Article 13 The shipping and boats in the two harbors, with all their
stores, guns, tackling, an apparel, shall be delivered up in their
present state to an officer of the navy appointed to take possession of
them, previously unloading the private property, part of which had
been put on board for security during the siege.

Granted.

Article 14 No article of capitulation to be infringed on pretense of

reprisals; and if there be any doubtful expressions in it, they are to be
interpreted according to the common meaning and acceptation of the
words.

Granted.

________________

Chapter Twenty-Two: General Wayne sent to the south.

Embarrassments of General Greene in that quarter. Recovery of
Georgia and evacuation of Savannah by the British. Death and
character of Colonel Laurens. Character of General Greene.
Consequent observations.

Immediately after the successful operations in Virginia, the Count of

Grasse took leave of his American friend's and, conformably to orders
received from his Court before he left France, sailed for the West
Indies. He left the continent in the beginning of November, 1781. He
was accompanied with the gratitude and good wishes of almost every
individual in the United States; nor was this more than justice
required.

A most extraordinary reverse of fortune and prospects had taken

place in America after the arrival of this brave commander and the
auxiliaries of his nation who had come forward and lent their aid to
the Americans. This assistance was received by the United States at
a period when her armies and America herself stood in the most
serious and solemn point of her distress.

Decorated with the laurels of military fame, several of the principal

officers withdrew from Virginia and repaired to other quarters.
General Washington, laden with the splendid trophies of victory, went
on to Philadelphia, where, by particular request of Congress, he
continued for some time. There he received a personal and
complimentary address from that body and the applauses of all
conditions of men, in a degree sufficient to stimulate the least
ambitious mind to pursue the path of victory, until time should bring a
period of rest to the pursuits of war.

The Marquis la Fayette, desirous to revisit his native country, which

had been several years involved in a war with Great Britain,
embraced the present opportunity and returned to France. He was
complimented by Congress with an advance of rank in the army and
the highest expressions of esteem for his bravery and good conduct
in their service. With a strong attachment to the inhabitants, and the
most friendly disposition toward the United States, he promised to
return again to America with further aids if it should be found
necessary to try the fortune of another campaign before the
contested object should be completely obtained.

After the capture of the British army, the surrender of their shipping in
the Chesapeake, and the restoration of tranquility in the state of
Virginia, General Wayne was ordered on with the Pennsylvania line to
march with the utmost dispatch to South Carolina to aid General
Greene, who had yet many difficulties to encounter in that quarter.
The distance from the central states and the long service at the
southward had exposed the American commander and the army
there to sufferings indescribable.
After the action at the Eutaw Springs, we left General Greene on the
High-Hills of Santee, where he thought it necessary to repair to
secure and recruit the remainder of his army and to wait the
exigencies that might again call him forward to the more active
scenes of the field. He did not continue there long before he thought
proper to move forwards toward Jacksonborough. There the light
troops from Virginia, that had been commanded by the Colonels
Laurens and Lee, joined him. But the whole army was so destitute of
ammunition and every other necessary for an advance to any action
that they had scarcely the means of supporting themselves in a
defensive condition. Of consequence, only some small skirmishes
ensued, without much advantage to either party. It was happy for the
Americans that their enemies were now almost as much reduced in
numbers as themselves. Yet the variegated causes of distress
among this small remnant of continental soldiers were almost
innumerable.

They were in an unhealthy climate, always unfriendly to northern

constitutions. They were destitute of many of the necessaries for
carrying on war with advantage, and almost without the means of
supporting human life. In addition to this, the general had to combat
disaffection, discontent, and mutiny, in his own army. The Maryland
line, particularly, had indulged a mutinous spirit to an alarming
extreme, which required all the address of the commander in chief to
suppress. At the same time, he had to encounter dangers of every
kind from a valiant enemy, stimulated to cruelty by many
circumstances that led them almost to despair of their own cause.

On the other hand, the disaffection of most of the inhabitants of

Charleston, and the sickliness of the country on which he had
depended had been indeed discouraging circumstances to Lord
Rawdon. Not willing to risk his constitution longer in that insalubrious
latitude, he had embarked for England in the summer, was captured
on his passage by the Count de Grasse, but was soon after stored to
his native country. The troops he left behind were not in want of food,
clothing, or warlike stores; while the little American army under
General Greene was naked to that extreme that they had scarcely
rags left to veil them from the most indecent appearances. [General
Greene's letters at this period to General Washington and others.]

In this wretched situation, General Greene and his little army

continued through the winter; and such was the severe and vigilant
duty of the officers that for seven months the general himself was not
able to take off his clothes for a night. This is sufficient to prove the
assertion in one of his letters that the army was so destitute of
everything that it was not able to make a march of a day.

General Leslie had again, by proclamation, called on all who had still
any remains of attachment to the British government to adhere firmly
to the royal cause. He assured them of the strongest support in his
power, notwithstanding the acts of disenfranchisement, confiscation,
and banishment which took place after Governor Rutledge had again
resumed the administration of civil government. However, Leslie did
not receive any new additions of strength by his proclamations or his
letters of altercation with the governor who succeeded Mr. Rutledge,
relative to the civil police of the country. Nor (as observed) was
General Greene able to advance or take a single step further to put a
period to the power of the British arms in that state. But it was not
long before general Leslie proposed a cessation of arms. The
citizens were sickly, the loyalists disheartened, and his own troops
reduced. Every circumstance and every party required a respite from
the distresses of war. As general Greene had not yet been
authorized by Congress to accede to the proposal, he did not
immediately comply.

The advance of General Wayne with his detachment from the army in
Virginia, which reached South Carolina before the close of the
present year, was a necessary acquisition, and had been impatiently
expected. Without this, it would have been impossible for General
Greene to have held out much longer. Some provisions, clothing,
and other necessaries, reached the army in the ensuing spring. This
partially relieved the American commander from the complicated
distresses he had suffered the preceding winter. It restored more
order an satisfaction among his troops. The discontents and mutinous
disposition among some of them were dissipated; and he was able,
with truth, soon afterwards to observe in general orders that, "It is his
happiness that he has the honor to command an army that has not
been less distinguished for its patience, than bravery; and it will add
no small luster to your character to say that you have rejected with
abhorrence the practice of plundering and the exercise of cruelty,
although urged by your necessities to the former, and by the example
of your enemies to the lat. United by principle, and connected by
affection, you have exhibited to the world a proof that elevated souls
and persevering tempers can triumph over every difficulty."

General Wayne did not stay long in South Carolina, but marched
forward by order of General Greene, to cross the Savannah. He was
reinforced by a party from Augusta, sent forward to his aid. Though
the state of Georgia was considered by the British as completely
subjugated to their power, yet there was a considerable number of
the inhabitants who still cooperated with Congress and continued a
delegation of members of that body, though all the hostile movements
or changes that had for several years been shifting the prospects of
the inhabitants, who had been generally the subjects of the British
Crown more in name than reality; and the greater their distance from
the center of British operations, the less were they disposed to submit
to British authority. A few other troops besides those from the
neighborhood of Augusta, who had been stationed at different posts,
but retained their attachment to the American cause, joined the troops
collected under the command of General Wayne.

Thus the state of Georgia was relieved at a time when they least
expected it. Animated by the successes in Virginia, and ambitious for
the honor of relieving the state of Georgia, the advance of General
Wayne was rapid, and his arrival on the borders very unexpected to
General Clarke, who commanded at Savannah.
On the first rumor of the march of this party of victorious Americans,
orders were given by General Clarke to the officers commanding the
British outposts to burn and destroy everything on the fertile banks of
the river and to retire with the troops within the works in the suburbs
of the town.

After this waste of property and the destruction of their crops, the
Georgians and the few American troops there to support them had
more to endure than at any period before, from hunger, fatigue, the
attacks of British partisans, the irruptions of the Creek Indians, and
other savages in British service. We have seen the sufferings of that
state had been grievous for several years, from invasion, slaughter,
and conquest. Their subsistence now totally destroyed in the
conflagration of the borders, the inhabitants were reduced to despair,
until the arrival in Georgia of Wayne's detachment.

This happy event revived their sinking spirits and invigorated them to
new exertions in defense of their country. The inhabitants from every
quarter repaired immediately to the assistance of General Wayne;
who, soon after he had crossed the river, was attacked by Colonel
Brown, who had marched with a considerable party from Savannah.
With this body of troops, he fell suddenly on and attacked General
Wayne. They fought with great spirit and valor, but were soon
defeated, and driven back by the Americans.

A few days after this, a very large body of Creek Indians,

accompanied by their principal warriors and chieftains, headed by a
British officer, attempted in the night to surprise General Wayne in his
quarters. He, ever vigilant, and defying all personal danger, was in
greater readiness for their reception than was expected. The
assailants gained little advantage by this sudden onset. The affray
was fierce, but did not continue long before the Indians were willing to
retreat, having lost a number of their principal associates. But he
capture of Lord Cornwallis and his army, the low state of British affairs
in the Carolinas, and the advance of a body of American troops were
circumstances so discouraging that the British did not think proper to
make any vigorous resistance. A period was soon put to those
hostilities that had for several years ravaged the state of Georgia and
destroyed or driven away many of its former inhabitants.

General Wayne was an officer of high military reputation. His

prudence and judgment had been conspicuous in the trying scene
which called out his talents in 1780 on the mutiny and secession of
the Pennsylvania line, which he commanded. His valor had been
signalized at Stoney Point and in Virginia, as well as in many other
places where decided action was necessary. He now had the honor
of terminating the war in the state of Georgia.

On the expectation of the British leaving Savannah, some proposals

were made to General Wayne by the merchants and others for the
security of their property; and every reasonable indulgence was
promised by him to those who chose to remain there. He engaged
that those merchants who did not owe allegiance to the United States
should be permitted to remain there a reasonable time to dispose of
their property and settle their affairs; and that they should be
protected by the military until delivered into the hands of the civil
authority.

Thus, in a few months after the events above mentioned, the whole
state of Georgia was evacuated by their formidable enemies. This
was early in the ear 1782. Not a single British soldier was left in the
pay of the King of England, except such as were prisoners to the
Americans. Much to the honor of General Clarke, he quit the post
without any injury to the town of Savannah, and left the works
standing that had been erected by the industry of the royal troops.

This defeat of the efforts of the British government to hold the state of
Georgia in subjection fully justified the observations of Lord Maitland,
who had served his country with ability and applause in several parts
of America. by his exertions, in conjunction with General Prevost, the
sate of Georgia had been long retained against the combined force of
an American army under General Lincoln and a French fleet
commanded by the Count de Estaing.

The sum of Lord Maitland's speech in the British Parliament on his

return to England afterwards was that those men who had brought
the nation into its present state had come into life at a time when the
arms of their country were carried to an unprecedented height of
splendor and glory; when the Empire was under the benefit of wise
councils and of a vigorous system, great and respectable abroad,
opulent and happy at home, when her trade covered every sea and
filled every port in the world, and when her navy claimed and enjoyed
the proud and enviable dominion of the seas.

He observed that "their predecessors had come into life with gay
prospects and with pleasing hopes; but how different was the fate of
himself and those who entered into public life at the present
moment? They came upon the stage of public action at a time when
their country was perhaps upon the eve of dissolution; when it
certainly was fallen from the high consideration in which it stood a few
years before and when every prospect of grandeur was vanished;
when every incitement to great and laudable ambition was
extinguished, and when they had not even the consolation to believe
that the efforts of their youth could snatch their country from
impending ruin." His Lordship added, "that the prosecution of the war
against America was criminal and absurd beyond expression; and
that nothing short of the immediate discontinuance of it could save
the nation from irretrievable destruction. It was, therefore, the duty of
that house to raise their sinking country, which lay prostrate at their
feet, and sought, amid the bitterest hours of calamity, their aid to
snatch her from impending ruin."

Though the state of Georgia was now happily relieved from the
oppression of its foreign forces, South Carolina continued some time
longer in a state of hostility. They remained several months exposed
to the ravages of small parties of the British, sent out for various
purposes; the most important of which was to collect provisions for
their own immediate necessities.

Among the most painful events which took place on these occasions
and which was justly regretted by all America was the death of
Colonel John Laurens. No one acquainted with his merits can
forebear to drop a tear over the memory of so worthy an officer. His
zeal for the interests of his country and the cause of freedom had
often been exhibited by his exertions in the field; nor was he less
distinguished as an able negotiator in France, where he had repaired
in some of the darkest days of America. There he rendered his
country the most essential service by procuring a loan of money and
expediting, by his address, the troops and the navy that came to its
relief in the year 1780.

Colonel Laurens was a gentleman, not only of great military talents

and public virtues, but was endeared to everyone by his affability and
manners, his polite accomplishments, refined understanding, and the
most amiable private character.

Immediately after the capture of Lord Cornwallis, Colonel Laurens

returned to the state of South Carolina to exert his talents in
emancipating his native state from the power and oppression of its
enemies. His zeal and activity ever prompted him to go forward on
smaller, as well as the greatest occasions that required his
assistance. He met his premature fate in one of the many desultory
skirmishes that took place not far from the environs of Charleston.
General Leslie had sent out a party to march toward the Combahee
River to secure rice and other provisions, which his army greatly
wanted. They were followed by a detachment sent on by General
Greene. In this party, Colonel Laurens was a volunteer. He was
mortally wounded in a severe rencounter, almost at the moment when
victory declared in favor of the party commanded by General Gist.
His death was universally lamented. The tears of his country were but
a just tribute due to his own merits; while grief was heightened in
every compassionate bosom when reflecting on the sorrow this
premature stroke must occasion to his respected father, just released
from the calamities of a long imprisonment in England.

The work to be completed in the state of South Carolina was yet

arduous. The sufferings of General Greene and his little army have
been already portrayed. A more ample detail of these may be seen in
his own letters, if curiosity is not sufficiently gratified. The distressing
accounts from his own hand, above referred to, were not ameliorated,
or did his military conflicts cease, until the final embarkation of the
British troops from Charleston. Such had been the deranged state of
affairs there, and such the distance of South Carolina from the central
states, as had rendered it impossible for him to procure support,
supplies, and pay, for his own army. He was obliged, in order to
procure subsistence for them, to enter into large contracts on his own
private security; this embarrassed him the remainder of his life.

As General Greene had now nearly finished his military drama, it may
not be improper to observe here that this worthy officer survived the
war but a few years. He died in Georgia by a coup de soliel, or
sudden stroke of the sun, not unusual in the southern parts of
America, which instantly puts a period to human life. His property
was afterwards seized by his creditors, and his family, after his death,
left to the mercy of the public.

It would not be doing justice to his memory to pass unobserved that

General Greene conducted the whole campaign at the southward
with the most consummate prudence, courage, and ability,
notwithstanding the innumerable difficulties that lay in his way. He
entered on the command under every disadvantage. He superseded
a brave, unfortunate, popular officer, just beaten from the field. The
country was divided in opinion and intimidated by the power of
Britain. His troops, unprovided, naked, and desponding, had to
march a long way through a barren and inhospitable country, tripped
of its small produce by the previous march of the British army. They
had to attack and retreat, to advance and to fly, over rivers, swamps,
and mountains, in opposition to a conquering foe flushed with recent
success, who considered at that time South Carolina and Georgia as
already subdued, and North Carolina on the point of submission to
royal authority.

Cities have often contended for the honor of giving birth to men of
eminence;; and when a great degree of celebrity has been acquired,
it awakens a curiosity in everyone to inquire after their origin.
General Greene was a native of the state of Rhode Island. He was a
gentleman of moderate fortune, who, previous to the American war,
had lived in the plain and sober habits in which he was education,
which were in that simplicity of style that usually marks the manners
of those denominated Quakers.

It is well known that he religious tenets of that sect are averse to all
the operations of offensive war. The situation of America was then
such that no man of principle could balance on the line of conduct
which duty impelled him to take. The natural and civil rights of man
invaded, and all the social enjoyments interrupted, he did not think
himself bound to sit a quiet spectator of the impending distractions
and distresses of his country. He viewed the opposition to the
oppressions of Great Britain in the light of necessary and defensive
war.

On these rational principles, he early girded on the buckler and the

helmet; and with the purest intentions in his heart, and the sword in
his hand, he came forward. Nor did he resheathed it until he had,
without the smallest impeachment of reputation, passed through
many of the most active and arduous scenes, as already related, and
in conjunction with many others of the same patriotic and heroic
feelings, essentially aided in delivering his country from foreign
domination.
His valor and magnanimity, humanity and probity, through all his
military career, need no other encomium than a just detail of his
transaction to complete the character of a brae and accomplished
officer, formed for the command of armies, by the talents and
resources of his own mind, which were discoverable in a variety of
instances.

Beloved by the soldiery, esteemed by his country; a confidential friend

of the commander in chief; endowed by nature with a firmness of
mind that in great characters runs parallel with hazard and fatigue;
and possessing that amor patriae that bids defiance to danger and
death, when contrasted with the public safety; General Greene did
not leave the southern department until the British troops were beaten
from post to post, their proud designs of conquest and subjugation
extinguished, the whole country recovered, and the inhabitants who
survived the severe convulsion again restored to the quiet possession
of their plantations. This was not finally completed until the latter part
of the year 1782, when the last remnant of British troops in the
southern states embarked under the command of General Leslie.
This finished the invasion of the Carolinas, and the inglorious ravage
of so fair a part of America.

Savannah and Charleston evacuated, the British troops driven from

the Carolinas and captured in Virginia; the southern sates were
restored to that kind of repose which is felt after a frightful and
turbulent dream which exhausts the strength and so far unnerves the
system that energies of nature cannot be immediately called into
exercise. After such a total derangement of government, of civil
order, and the usual course of business, it must require a
considerable lapse of time to awake from that kind of torpor, the result
of too much agitation, and from the languor which pervades the mind
when former habits are interrupted, and the usual stimulants to action
annihilated. They had to restore confidence and justice at home, to
settle equitably the demands of creditors, and at the same time to
secure the debtor from oppression on each side of the Atlantic, where
long commercial intercourse had subsisted for so many years.

This variety of difficulties must be left to the arrangements which may

take place when the independence of America shall be acknowledged
by foreign powers. We shall here only observe that by the invasion of
America and the attempts of the British government to reduce the
colonies by conquest, the narrow prejudices of national attachment
were laid aside, and those ideas nearly obliterated that by long habit
had led America to view with peculiar respect the customs, manners,
religion, and laws of the country whence she originated and on whom
she too partially leaned in the days of infantile weakness.

The American colonies, from their first settlement, had little reason for
this partial attachment to the parent state. Their progress in arts and
manufactures was continually checked. They were prohibited from
working up many of the raw materials which the country produced, for
their own necessary use. They were restricted from carrying wool
from one colony to another, though the coldness of the climate in
many parts of America required the most ready means of procuring
and working it into clothing. In a country abounding with iron ore,
they were restrained by act of Parliament from erecting slitting mills to
manufacture it for their own use. In instances too innumerable to be
again recapitulated, the British government had endeavored to cramp
the growth of the young settlements, to keep them in poverty an
dependence, and to compel them to repair to their stores for almost all
the necessaries of life.

It was a cruel exercise of power to endeavor to prohibit a great people

from making all the advantages they could of their own produce and
employing their stock and industry in their own way. This, as
observed by a writer, "is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights
of mankind. Such prohibitions are only impertinent badges of slavery,
imposed without sufficient reason, by groundless jealousies." The
same writer had observed, "When the English colonies were
established and had become so considerable as to attract the
attention of the mother country, the first regulations which she made
with regard to them had always in view to secure to herself the
monopoly of their commerce; to confine their market, and to enlarge
her own at their expense; and consequently, rather to damp and
discourage than to quicken and forward the course of their industry."
[Smith's Wealth of Nations.]

In what way, therefore, it may be asked, has the policy of England

contributed, either to the first establishment or the present grandeur
of America? Let the same writer reply. "In one way, and in one way
only, it has contributed much. Magna virum mater! It bred and formed
the men who were capable of achieving such great actions and of
laying the foundation of so great an empire; and there is no other
quarter of the world of which the policy is capable of forming or has
ever actually and in fact formed such men. The colonies owe to the
policy of Europe the education and great views of their active and
enterprising founders; and some of the greatest and most important
of them, so far as concerns their internal government, owe it to
scarce anything else."

The folly and misguided policy of the government of England has

dissevered the colonies from them forever. Their oppression, their
invasions, and aggressions first taught America to view the island of
Great Britain with an averted eye and an alienated mind. Their
alienation was completed when the King of England sent out his
fleets and his armies, strengthened by subsidized strangers, to
subjugate and bend to servile submission the inhabitants of a country
which has been emphatically styled by one of the first statesmen and
patriots [Lord Chatham.] of the nation "the promised land, the Eden of
England, her seminary for seamen; that from thence England
supplied the neighboring nations with fish, tobacco, rice, and indigo;
thence she draws all her naval stores; and that the command of the
sea would give her the dominion of the land."

The happy termination of the melancholy events which had for a

series of years pervaded America, soon after the present period
raised the United States to the zenith of their respectability. The
world now viewed with humane satisfaction, millions of people, by
unexampled sufferings and steady perseverance, emancipated from
a foreign yoke. This pleasure as heightened by the contemplation that
a more universal sprit of liberality and a more perfect knowledge of
the rights of man might be disseminated by their struggles for
freedom, not only in the colonies, but through a considerable part of
the civilized world.

The singular combination of events which effected a total separation

and annihilated the former political relation between Great Britain and
the colonies may be held up by the philosopher or the statesman in
various points of view. While the reflective mind, which believes and
rejoices in the intervention of Divine Providence, keeps its eye on the
Superintending Power which governs the universe and whose finger
points the rise and fall of empires. Nor dare a weak mortal to suggest
amid all the confusion of the present world that this may not be
permitted in order finally to complete the beauty and harmony of the
divine system. The world has recently beheld an infant nation at once
arise from the vigor of manhood and with the cool resolution of
maturity, opposing the intrigues and resisting the power of Britain. In
strictest amity with the hereditary foe of Britain, America has been
seen leading captive the armies and smiling at the impotent threats of
the King of England, to hold her longer in bondage.

This liberation of the American colonies was the wish of the first
statesmen and politicians of the world, exclusive of Englishmen; and
even among them America had many powerful friends. The great
Lord Chatham, whose unshaken patriotism and incorruptible integrity
had braved the storms of court faction and intrigue until the frowns of
majesty, the fury of party and the arts of ambitious courtiers had
caused him to retire from the helm of state, stood at the head of the
distinguished list of nobles who advocated the American cause. But
though his humanity an justice led him to vindicate the American
opposition to ministerial measures, it was with the utmost reluctance
that he contemplated the alienation of the colonies from their
dependence on the Crown of Britain.

The commanding and comprehensive genius of a Chatham, viewed

the consequences of such a dismemberment of the Empire in a
clearer light and with superior penetration to most of the statesmen in
England. Yet he was among the most strenuous advocates for the
maintenance of the constitutional rights claimed by Americans; and
on many occasions had exerted his brilliant talents in opposition to the
ministerial measures relative to the colonies. He criminated the war,
its prosecution, and its effects in the most glowing epithets which ever
marked his superior elocution. It is recorded [Life of Lord Chatham.]
that he once in the House of Lords felt himself so interested in the
American cause and so warmed by the subject that though he had
passed his grand climacteric, he, with the vigor of youth and the
strong language of maturity expressed himself in his own peculiar
manner. He asserted that as "he saw the declining liberties of
England and the growing spirit of the colonies, were it not for
invincible obstacles, he would infallibly retire from Britain and spend
the remainder of his days in that glorious asylum of liberty,, of
manliness, and of virtue."

Yet his patriotism with regard to Great Britain and his just ideas
relative to the oppression of the colonies an their laudable opposition
to ministerial measures could never reconcile him for a moment to the
thoughts of a total separation, and the unqualified independence of
the United States. But his energies in their defense were called forth
to the latest period of his lie, when he had nearly reached the term
allotted of the existence of man.

Though debilitated by pain and sickness, tortured by gout almost to

the dislocation of his limbs, and from feebleness of body rendered
unable to stand alone, at a critical period of national affairs, he
caused himself to be supported and led into the House of Lords by
his friends; where the vigor of a great soul was exerted and the
oratory of Greece and Rome rivaled by the pathos, energy, and
argument which flowed from a lip quivering on the marge of eternity.

The sudden seizure of this noble patriot in the House of Lords, while
thunder rolled from his tongue, and the acumen of his arguments, like
lightning, flashed conviction to the bosoms of the advocates of a
continuance of war, has been told and repeated with so many
affecting circumstances that it is needless to say more in this place
than that the event of his death seemed for a time to palsy all parties
and make a pause in the prosecution of public measures.

No example in English story has exhibited a character more zealous

to extricate his country, plunged in difficulties which were indeed
irretrievable. To arise from the chamber of sickness and the bed of
lassitude, while "every limb was a rebel to his will," and with the
awakened energies of a most vigorous mind and the marks of a
"never ebbing spirit," is one among the singular efforts of the human
soul to continue the elevation hoped for in immortality, when the
teguments of the brittle casement were on the verge of crumbling into
dust. One of his biographers has observed that those exertions of
the intellectual powers, discoverable to the last in the character of
Lord Chatham, "were of all others the most unparalleled, in whatever
view considered, and must be forever admired. Those instances in
which the soul bursts the ands of earth and stands alone in
confessed eternity, are the most beautiful, the most pathetic, the most
sublime exhibitions of which the mind of man is capable to conceive."

The death of this illustrious champion of freedom, a justly boasted

ornament of the British nation, took place at a very interesting period.
It was soon after the misfortunes, the defeat, and the capture, of
General Burgoyne a his army, an before the nation had recovered
from their deep consternation and dismay, on the unexpected
intelligence of the failure of the northern expedition. In the last speech
made by the illustrious character above mentioned, who will never be
passed over in silence in any historic record connected with the
affairs of Great Britain, he observed when he adverted to the disaster
at Saratoga that "the presiding deities of Great Britain appeared to
have abandoned her, and that Providence militated against her arms,
and spurned with indignation at her cause."

But though the most brilliant talents were displayed and the firmest
opposition made by many of the best orators, and most enlightened
and disinterested patriots of the nation, against the continuance of a
ruinous war that produced nothing but defeat and disgrace, yet we
have seen that only a short time elapsed before the King and his
ministry were again ready to prosecute their hostile intentions and to
continue desolation and carnage among the inhabitants of the United
States. Reiterated barbarities have been detailed, miseries
displayed, and the tragic tale continued, until the mortifying surrender
of a second British army. The bosom of humanity was lacerated in
the barbarous scenes of protracted war. Yet the breast of His Britannic
Majesty seemed rather hardened by the misfortunes of the nation;
and the flinty hearts of a majority in Parliament still urged that the
scourge of war might pursue those who claimed the just rights of
men, in whatever part of the globe there appeared any attempt to
defend them.

This was exhibited, not only in their determined coercion of the

American colonies, and their hostile dispositions toward the Batavian
Republic, but even in their refusal of assistance to the little distressed
state of Geneva, when struggling against the encroachments of the
aristocratic branch of the government. The people of Geneva had
borne too much to continue longer silent under their oppressions.
They had complained that the magistrates had encroached on their
privileges further than their constitution authorized. These complaints
only drew upon themselves new severities from an ambitious
aristocracy. The democratic party had required a new code of laws,
which should be a standard for the conduct of rulers and also a clear
decision on the fundamental principles of their own constitution that
they might thereby be excited to a prompt and willing obedience to
the laws, when the foundation which demanded it was clearly
defined. Mutual confidence would have rested on this basis of public
order and common security, had the intrigues of the aristocratic party
defeated the salutary project.

The magistrates not only employed the most unjustifiable practices for
the support of their authority, but represented their internal disputes in
such exaggerated colors and in such a favorable light for themselves
that they successfully interested several foreign powers to support
their claims. The Court of France interfered; the aristocratic cantons
of Zurich and Berne, and the King of Sardinia cooperated; and
brought forward a body of 12,000 men, with whom they blockaded
the city of Geneva. The citizens were thus compelled to admit these
military mediators within their city. A code of laws was prepared
under the point of the bayonet, for the future regulation of their
government.

This was so inconsistent with the liberties of the people or the

independence of their republic that vast numbers of the Genevese
abandoned the city to seek an asylum in distant regions, where they
might again possess that freedom their ancestors had one enjoyed.
The deserted habitations of the citizens were converted into barracks,
and a great part of the city, once flourishing under the benign
influence of their liberal institutions, reduced to a desert. Thus, as
observed "It is a just subject of regret that the ambition of some
individuals who aimed at a degree of power to which they had no just
claim, should have thus put a period to the prosperity of a republic
which has been the abode of so much liberty and happiness."

Amid the distresses of their state, the Genevese had applied to the
Earl of Abingdon, once a resident among them, and a known friend to
the liberties of mankind in every part of the world, to employ hi
influence in their favor with the Court of Great

Britain. In this, His Lordship was successes. They had besought the
noble Earl to continue his friendly disposition and to urge his nation to
watch over the situation of a little state, now on the point of being
sacrificed to the principles of despotism, to urge his nation to watch
over the situation of a little state, now on the point of being sacrificed
to the principles of despotism, whose struggles must be interesting to
all in whom the fine feelings of humanity were not totally
extinguished. He replied that it was with much regret that he had not
succeeded in his application to the British ministry to afford relief to
the oppressed state of Geneva, and that there was too much reason
to fear no assistance would be sent them.

He attributed this to the present situation in Great Britain, rent by

divisions at home, and surrounded by enemies abroad. [See the Earl
of Abingdon's reply to the applications of the Genevans.] It is,
however, probable that their indifference might arise from the general
spirit of all monarchies to discountenance every effort of the people in
favor of republicanism. It is not to be expected there should be any
partial bias to those liberal principles of democratic government
where a monarch is enthroned with all the powers of despotism in his
hands, a parliament at command to enforce his mandates, and a
people ready to relinquish their own will to the caprice or pride of a
sovereign.

His Lordship had observed in answer to the Genevan application that

"there was a time when the fleets of England were the speaking
trumpets to the whole world. At that period their grievances would
have been listened to, and their redress would have been certain.
But there was sad reverse in the affairs of Great Britain, which was
no longer in a capacity to speak to the enemy so the liberties of
mankind in its wonted tone of authority."

In Ireland, the emigrants from the ruined state of Geneva met with the
most liberal encouragement from the government, from the nobility,
and from the nation at large. In an assembly of delegates in the
province of Leinster, it was unanimously resolved "that the virtuous
citizens of Geneva, who wished for an asylum in that kingdom, from
the hand of tyranny an oppression, deserved their highest
commendation; and that such of them as had established themselves
among them, should upon every occasion receive their utmost
attention and support." Sympathy for oppressed sufferers under the
hand of despotic power had been taught the inhabitants of Ireland
from similar afflictions, under which they had long groaned, and
against which they were still struggling to rescue their prostrated
rights and privileges, which were invaded by the haughty and
domineering spirit of a more potent sister kingdom.

The history of Geneva displays a striking portrait of the means by

which most republics have been subverted. This is generally done by
the pride of a few families, the ambition of individuals, and the
supineness of the people. Thus an undue authority is established by
a select number, more mortifying to the middling class of mankind
and which has a tendency to render more abject and servile the mass
of the people than the single arm of the most despotic individual. [The
history of Geneva has very properly been recommended to the study
of every American citizen by a political writer.]

_______________

Chapter Twenty-Three: General observations on the conduct of the

British King and Parliament after the intelligence of the capture of
Lord Cornwallis and his army. King's speech. Address of thanks
opposed. Proposition by Sir Thomas Pitt to withhold supplies from
the Crown. Vote carried in favor of granting supplies. General
Burgoyne defends the American opposition to the measures of the
Court. Variety of desultory circumstances discussed in Parliament.

The close of the campaign in Virginia in 1781 was an era interesting to

the Empire of Britain and indeed to the European world, as well as
the United States of America. The period was beheld by the latter
with a mixture of pleasure an astonishment, more easily imagined
than described; and by some of the former, especially great Britain,
with chagrin an mortification, equal to their designs of conquest and
subjugation. The relief of the southern colonies an the capture of Lord
Cornwallis and his army was not less unexpected than humiliating to
the King, the minister, and the British nation at large. Yet from their
deportment, there did not appear any immediate prospect of peace.

From the situation of American affairs at home, from the expected

accession of new allies, and the general disposition of the European
powers, to acknowledge the independence of the Unite States and,
from their successes and their perseverance, it might rationally have
been expected that the contemplation of a general pacification among
the contending power would at this time have originated in England;
more especially when the expenses of the nation were calculated and
the misfortunes Great Britain had suffered during the war were
considered.

Her national enemies abroad were accumulating; discontents and

riots at home increasing; the complains of Scotland alarming; and
Ireland nearly in a state of insurrection. But the pride, the spirit, and
the resources of the nation appeared almost inexhaustible; and the
stake of the colonies was too great to relinquish yet, though the
ministry had hitherto played a losing game.

Thus when the British Parliament met, after the confirmation of the
loss of the army in Virginia, the capture of Lord Cornwallis and his
brave troops, the total defeat of the expedition to the Chesapeake,
and the declining aspect of affairs in the more southern colonies, the
speech from the Throne was yet manifestly dictated by the spirit of
hostility. The King, though he lamented in the preamble of his speech
the loss of his brave officers and troops and the unfortunate
termination of the campaign in Virginia, he still urged the most
vigorous prosecution of the war, and the measures that might
extinguish that spirit of rebellion that reigned in the colonies, and
reduce his deluded subjects to the due obedience to the laws and
government of Great Britain.

"The war," he observed, "is still unhappily prolonged by that restless

ambition which first excited our enemies to commence it, and which
still continues to disappoint my earnest and diligent exertions to
restore the public tranquility. But I should not answer the trust
committed to the sovereign of a free people, nor make a suitable
return to my subjects for their constant and zealous attachment to my
person, family, and government, if I consented to sacrifice, either to
my own desire of peace, or to their temporary ease and relief, those
essential rights and permanent interests, upon the maintenance of
which the future strength and security of this country must ever
principally depend."

The late accounts from America had in some measure weakened the
influence of the ministry, and, in proportion, strengthened the party
who had always execrated the American war. The administration, too
much agitated by the desire of revenge, and too haughty and
powerful to bend to terms of pacification, flattered themselves that
events had not yet fully ripened a general disposition for peace. Of
course, the usual compliment of an address of thanks for the speech
from the Throne was brought forward; but it was opposed with
unusual acrimony.

It was boldly asserted that the speech breathed nothing but "rancor,
vengeance, misery, and bloodshed." The war was directly charged,
by the advocates of peace, to the wild systems of government
adopted early in the present reign. They alleged that it was
ineffectual, delusory, and ruinous; that it was founded, not in the
restless ambition of the Americans, but that it ought to be charged on
a ministry who were "a curse to their country; who had cut up the
British possessions in the colonies, and separated England from their
fellow subjects in America;" who had drawn them to the point of losing
their settlements both in the East and the West Indies; who had
distressed their commerce, robbed them of the once undisputed
sovereignty of the seas, and rendered the nation the ridicule of
Europe. [See Mr. Fox's speech in the House of Commons; also,
several speeches in the House of Lords at this period.]

This was the language of Mr. Fox. Sentiments and opinions nearly
similar were expressed by Burke, Barre, and the son of the
celebrated Pitt; by the Lords Saville, Shelburne, Conway, and others,
in the House of Commons. The same temper and opinions appeared
in the House of Lords; the Duke of Richmond, the Lords Rockingham,
Fitzwilliam, Maitland, an many others on the list of nobility varied little
in opinion or expression from the minority in the House of Commons.
They, with equal warmth, opposed an address to the King. They
freely discussed the principles held up in the speech, and as severely
censured the measures it tended to enforce.

The dissenting lords observed that "by an address of thanks, their

honor might be pledged to support a war that, from near several
years'' experience, a determination to pursue it appeared in the
highest degree frantic, desperate, and ruinous; that the principles of
the present war could never be justified; that the delusions y which
Parliament had been led on from year to year to pursue it were
criminal; that the abuse and mismanagement of the marine
department had occasioned the loss in Virginia; that the minister at
the head of the Board of Admiralty might be justly charged with
negligence, incapacity, and guilt."

The character of Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty, was justly

portrayed on this occasion, and exhibited in those glaring colors
merited by his private life, as well as his political blunders. In short,
every motion for a further coercion of the colonies, as reprobated by a
large and respectable party in both departments of the great
assembly of the nation. The opponents of administration in both
houses of parliament observed that they were actuated by the same
principles and urged by the same motives that had induced them to
oppose for several years the pernicious, destructive, and ruinous
system of government that had involved the nation in irretrievable
difficulties.

It was even proposed in the House of Commons that the

representatives of the nation

should withhold all farther supplies of moneys to the Crown until a

redress of grievances should take place; and thus by a legal
compulsion oblige their Sovereign and his ministers to act with more
moderation and justice.

The son and nephew of the late Lord Chatham distinguished

themselves in this debate. They seemed at that time to have the
national interest at heart and to inherit the graces of oratory and the
fire of eloquence that had through all his life been displayed by their
admired and illustrious ancestor.

Sir Thomas Pitt called for a division of the house, on the question of
withholding supplies. He declared at once, "that if he retired to the
doors of the House alone, he should withhold his assent to entrusting
any more public moneys in the hands of ministers who had already
dissipated so much wealth and wasted such streams of human blood
in wild and fruitless projects and who had yet shown no contrition for
the peril and disgrace in which they had involved their country."

On the other hand, many powerful reasons were urged against a step
that would tend to disunite and stain with dishonor a nation which had
been renowned for their unconquerable spirit. Lord North observed
that a generous grant of supplies to the Crown would convince the
enemies that no calamities could sink them into despair. He added
that he always considered the American war as a matter of cruel
necessity, but that it was founded on a truly British basis; that he
regretted it as peculiarly unfortunate for himself, and that he would
willingly make any personal sacrifices for the restoration of peace; but
that he refusal of supplies to the Crown, in the midst of a war raging
like the present, must inevitably lead to irretrievable calamity and
disgrace, while it gave strength, animation, and triumph to France,
Spain, Holland, and America."

But eh party in opposition, not appalled by his reasoning, stood firm

and immovable. They claimed a right coeval with the institution of
Parliament and essential to a free government to withhold supplies
from the Crown when measures were adopted that threatened to
involve the Empire in endless calamities.

It is undoubtedly true that the most effectual check on an arbitrary

executive is for the representatives of the people to hold their hand
on the string of the purse. This privilege, once relinquished to the will
of a sovereign of whatever name, his power is without control, and his
projects and his extortions may lead to poverty, misery, and slavery
beyond redemption, before a nation is apprised of its danger. "Honest
and generous nations perish oftener through confidence than
distrust."

To return to the question in debate: it terminated according to the

expectations of the observers of political operations. The rhetoric or
the reasonings of a member of the British Parliament seldom do more
than display the brilliancy of his genius and the graces of elocution.
His arguments on the one side or the other have little influence on the
predetermination of party. Their opinions are generally made up
before the public discussion of the subject. All parties are so sensible
of this that they mutually consent, when weary of their places by
protracted debate, and agree to what they call pairing off; that is,
when one chooses to retire, a member of the opposite party retires
with him. Thus the equilibrium or the balance continues the same at
the conclusion of the most pathetic, interesting, and energetic debate,
that it was in the beginning. The minister holds his dependents, the
popular speakers retain their adherents.
The numbers and names of each are generally known before they
enter the dome that rings with the beauty, the harmony, the sublimity
of their language and the musical elegance of their finished periods.
Thus the decision of the question is usually calculated, both within
and without doors, previous to entering on debates on which depend
the honor, the interest, and the fate of the nation.

This mode of conduct may be consistent enough with the present

state of society in Europe. It is a fair deduction that the result of
human action is owing more to the existing state of stage of society
than to any deviations in the nature of general disposition of
mankind. All political transactions were now systematized. Reasoning
on the principles of equity and truth lost all its efficiency, if it clashed
with the measures of a minister preconcerted in the cabinet of his
prince.

A very sensible writer has observed "that in the state of society which
had taken place in America, the foundations of her freedom were laid
long before the nations of Europe had any ideas on what was taking
place in the minds of men. Conquest, religion, law, custom, habits,
and manners, confirmed by military power, had established a state of
society in Europe in which the rights of men were obliterated and
excluded. The property and power of a nation had passed into the
hands of the sovereign, nobility, and church.

"The body of the people were without property, or any chance of

securing any, and without education or knowledge to form them to
any rational principles and sentiments. Without property and without
principle, they were of little or no consequence in the view of
government. Nothing was to be seen but one general degradation of
the people and an unnatural and excessive exaltation of those who
had acquired power. This everywhere tended to corrupt both, and to
give the most unfavorable idea to the capacity of the former, and of
the dispositions of the latter.
"Thus, (he observes) the ministers of Britain at the time of the
American contest were men of great eminence and ability in
managing business upon the European system; but they had no
ideas of the state of things in America, or of a system in which nature
an society had combined to preserve freedom. What they called
rebellion was only the tendency of nature and society to preserve
freedom made more active by their opposition." [Dr. Williams' History
of Vermont.]

Thus when the motion was made by Sir Grey Cooper for the decision
of a question that held out a signal for peace or the continuance of an
absurd and luckless war, the vote in favor of the latter and of
generous supplies to the Crown for its support was carried by a large
majority. 172 appeared in support of administration, while only 77
were counted in the minority.

It would be unjust to pass over in silence the behavior of General

Burgoyne at this period. He had recovered his seat in Parliament, his
health, and some measure of his military reputation; and no one more
warmly advocated every measure for the immediate restoration of
peace. H supported a motion for the recall of all British troops from
America. He pressed an immediate exchange of prisoners both in
England and America; and strenuously urged every pacific advance
that might comport with the honor, the equity, and the dignity of the
British nation. He even justified the principles of American opposition
to the measures of administration and parliamentary decrees. He
acknowledged that when he engaged in the service against the
United States, he thought differently; but that he had been brought to
conviction by the uniform conduct of the American states.

He added that it was presumption to allege that they were not in the
right to resist. He observed that it was reason and the finger of God
alone that had implanted the same sentiment sin the breasts of three
million people; and that comparing the conduct of the ministry, as
time had developed their system, he was convinced that the
American war was formed on a part of the general design against the
constitution of Britain and the unalienable rights of man.

Thus had the experience of severity from the cabinet, of ingratitude

from his king and country, and of adversity in the wilds of Saratoga
taught this veteran officer , once armed for the destruction of her
rights, and the desolation of America, to stand forth a champion for
her invaded liberties, a defender of the principles of her resistance to
the Crown of Great Britain, and an advocate for the restoration of
peace, which equity required, and humanity claimed.

It is true, the principles of Americans were so fixed, and the opposition

to the encroachments of Parliament had been so long sustained by
the united colonies which such cool intrepidity, such a spirit of
perseverance, and such a defiance of danger as had brought almost
all England to wish for the restoration of peace, even on the
humiliating idea of a dismemberment of the Empire and an explicit
acknowledgment of American independence. Though their affection
was too generally alienated from the inhabitants beyond the Atlantic,
they saw the ruin of their trade and manufactures, and felt the
miseries of a war protracted from year to year without any nearer
prospect of obtaining its object.

Yet, notwithstanding the disposition of the people, neither the King, the
ministry, now the majority in Parliament were at all softened by the
wishes or sufferings of the nation. Nothing that could touch the
passions or operate on the national interest or pride was left
unessayed by the orators in favor of reconciliation and peace. A
retrospect was taken of every important transaction in the course of
the war; the conduct and maneuvers of the principal actors revised,
scrutinized, and censured; yet this interesting session ended without
any conciliatory prospects.

Among the variety of affairs that were brought forward relative to

America and that were discussed with masterly precision and dignity,
the cruelties exhibited at St. Eustatia, which will be immediately
related, were not forgotten. The injustice exercised toward the
sufferers of that unhappy island as criminated in the most pointed
language.

The treatment Mr. Laurens had received, while a prisoner in the Tower
of London, was recollected and reprobated with equal severity. The
situation of other prisoners in the jails and prison ships was painted in
colors that could not fail to excite compassion. The defeat of British
armies, the degradation of their best officers, the disgrace brought on
the nation by the rank given to and the confidence placed in the
infamous Arnold, were brought into the scale of accusation. Indeed,
every ministerial measure was in their session censured in the House
of Commons, with the acrimony of resentment and the boldness of
truth, without being softened by the delicacy of the courtier.

We have seen above that immediately after General Arnold had

forfeited his honor, betrayed his trust, and endeavored to sell his
country, he received his pecuniary reward from General Clinton and
was appointed to a distinguished military command in the
Chesapeake. He was in a few months recalled from Virginia to Sir
Henry Clinton, ostensibly to assist in the defense of New York, but
more probably to quiet the murmurs of men of more virtue, talents,
and merit than himself. They could not brook the insolence with
which this dignified traitor sustained the caresses of his employers,
nor the degradation felt by many officers of high rank and superior
genius to see one placed over their heads, whom all acknowledged
deserved no elevation but a halter.

The British commander in chief at New York, contrary to the old

adage, appeared not to hate, but to love the traitor as well as the
treason. Immediately on his recall from the Chesapeake, General
Clinton had vested him with a new commission, and licensed him to
ravage the borders of the state of Connecticut, and to pillage and
burn their fair towns that spread along the margin of the Sound. This
was a business very congenial too the character and genius of
Arnold. He was accompanied by a detachment under the command
of Colonel Eyre. This excursion was attended with much slaughter
and devastation; the inhabitants of several defenseless towns were
shamefully plundered and abused, without distinction of age of sex.

New London as more seriously attacked; and after a short and brave
resistance, plundered and burnt. As soon as the town had
surrendered, a number of soldiers entered the garrison. The officer
who headed the party inquired who commanded it? The valiant
Colonel Ledyard stepped forward and replied with ease and gallantry,
"I did, sir, but you do now." At the same moment he delivered his
sword to a British officer. The barbarous ruffian, instead of receiving
his submission, like the generous victor, immediately stabbed the
brave American. Nor was his death the only sacrifice made in that
place to the wanton vengeance of the foes of America. Several other
officers of merit were assassinated, after the surrender of the town;
while their more helpless connections experience the usual cruel fate
of cities captured by inhuman conquerors.

Some members in Parliament endeavored to extenuate the guilt and

defend the promotion of General Arnold and the confidence placed in
him by Sir Henry Clinton. But after a recapitulation of the above
transactions and some similar events, Mr. Fox observed that Arnold
"had dispersed his panegyrics and scattered abuse on the characters
of British officers; but that he shuddered at the predicament in which
his gallant countrymen were placed, when in their military capacity
they were marked with so infamous a degradation, as to have
anything to apprehend, either from the reproaches or the applauses
of General Arnold; that in the character of an American officer, he had
treacherously abandoned his command; and now, rewarded with an
active military promotion in t British service, he might probably
proceed hereafter to similar transactions, and sacrifice for lucre the
troops of Britain."
Mr. Burke was equally severe on the character of this perfidious
traitor. He observed "that such a person could not be held by any
laws to serve with strict fidelity the people and the sovereign against
whom he was before in arms, and to whom he had fled in the very
midst of acts of treachery to the states whose cause he had
deserted. A man whose conduct had been marked by glaring strokes
of cruelty and perfidiousness, and which had furnished an indubitable
proof that he who on one side would have sacrificed an army, was too
dangerous to be trusted with the command of troops belonging to the
opposing party." He lamented that the honors of high office were thus
scattered on the worthless, and frequently on men who had no
inconsiderable share in the measures that tended to disgrace and
ruin their country.

Mr. Burke, indeed, had always appeared to have a thorough

detestation of corrupt men and measures. HE advocated the cause
of liberty, not only with the ability

of an orator, but with an enthusiasm for the establishment of freedom

in all countries. He was an advocate for the distressed Irish; and
stretched his genius to the eastern world, to survey the abuses and to
criminate the cruelties perpetrated there by his own countrymen; and,
with a pathos peculiar to himself, brought before the tribunal of the
public eye, the criminal laden with the rich spoils, the diamonds and
jewels of the princely widows, and the immense treasures of the
distant nabobs.

He ever appeared opposed to the powerful oppressors of the people,

and attached to the defenders of freedom in every nation; was the
friend of Franklin and Laurens; corresponded with the first on
American affairs, and made great exertions to mitigate the sufferings
of the last, while in rigorous imprisonment. But this unfortunate
gentleman, notwithstanding the influence of many powerful friends,
which he had in the House of Commons, was refused his liberty, and
detained in the Tower until near the close of the war.
However, Mr. Laurens survived his persecutions in England, returned
to his native country, and spent the remainder of his days in private
life. After several years of virtuous preparation for his exit, his only
surviving son closed his eyes. His fond affection for his father led him
to deviate from the usual customers of his countrymen in the manner
of interring their friends. He reared an altar on which he burnt the
body of the patriarch and carefully gathered the ashes from the
hearth, deposited them in a silver urn, and placed them in his bed-
chamber, with reverence and veneration, where they remained to the
day of his death. This circumstance is mentioned as a peculiar
instance of filial affection, and at once a mark of the respect due to
the memory both of the patriot and the parent.

The celebrity of Mr. Burke for his general conduct, and his spirited
speeches in favor of the rights of man, during the Revolutionary War,
were justly appreciated throughout America. He was admired for his
oratorical talents, and beloved for the part he took in the cause of
suffering individuals, either American prisoners or the oppressed in
his own country. His feelings of humanity extended to the Ganges;
and by his lively descriptions of the miseries of the wretched
inhabitants of India, he has expanded the human heart, and drawn a
tear from every compassionate eye. Certainly, to such a man, the
tribute of a tear is equally due, when he shall be beheld in the decline
of life, deviating from his own principles, and drawing his energetic
pen to censure and suppress the struggles for liberty in a sister
kingdom. [Philippic against France.]

When we retrace the powers of the human mind, and viewed the
gradations of the faculties, or the decline of genius, it is a humiliating
reflection that a more advanced period of life so often subtracts from
the character of the man, as it shone in full luster in the meridian of
his days. Perhaps in the instance before us, a deviation from former
principles might be more owing to a decline in correct political
sentiment than to any physical debility that was yet apparent.
It is an anticipation which many reasons render excusable to bring
forward in this place the subsequent declension of this gentleman's
zeal in favor of the general liberties of mankind, when his flowery
epithets, argumentative elocution, and flowing periods were often
equally entertaining with the beset theatrical exhibitions. But,

without further apology, it is proper to observe that before he finished

his political drama, the world was astonished to behold Mr. Burke
fulminating his anathemas against a neighboring nation, who were
struggling with every nerve for the recovery of the freedom and the
natural rights of man, of which they had long been robbed, and which
had been trodden under foot, if not annihilated by despotic kings,
unprincipled nobles, and a corrupt clergy. It was surprising to hear a
man who had so often expressed the most humane feelings for the
depression of his fellow beings of every class, afterwards regretting,
in the most pathetic strains, only the sorrows of royalty, without a
momentary pang for the miseries of a nation. [A political writer has
observed that "the late opinions of Mr. Burke furnished more matter of
astonishment to those who had distantly observed than to those who
had correctly examined the system of his former political life. An
abhorrence for abstract politics, a predilection for aristocracy, and a
dread of innovation have ever been among the most sacred articles
of his public creed. It was not likely that at his age he should
abandon to the invasion of audacious novelties, opinions which he
had received so early and maintained so long, which had been
fortified by the applause of the great and the assent of the wise,
which he had dictated to so many illustrious pupils, and supported
against so many distinguished opponents. Men who early attain
eminence repose in their first creed. They neglect the progress of the
human mind subsequent to its adoption; and when, as in the present
case, it has burst forth into action, they regard it as a transient
madness, worth only of pity or derision. They mistake it for a
mountain torrent, that will pass away with the storm that gave it birth.
They know not that it is the stream of human opinion, in omne volubilis
avum, which the accession of every day will swell, which is destined
to sweep into the same oblivion, the resistance of learned sophistry
and of powerful oppression." Mackintosh's Vindiciae Gallica, on Mr.
Burke's Philippic against the French Revolution.]

If a just portrait has been drawn below, and Mr. Burke was never at
heart a genuine friend of the liberties of mankind, we will sigh over
the versatility of human conduct, and leave him to reflect on his own
inconsistency; while the florid diction of his oratory is admired by his
contemporaries, and the generations that succeed him will be
delighted with the brilliant periods that adorned his eloquence on
every occasion.

The admiration of the finished rhetoric and fascinating talents by

which the speeches of Fox, Burke, and many other British orators
were embellished, has occasioned the above digression, which we
now wave and observe that the agents who had brought on a ruinous
war with the colonies, and defection, alienation, and hostility, with
surrounding nations, had not sufficient talent, subtlety, sophistry to
quiet the people under the ideas of a longer continuance of the war.
They had long amused them by the musical powers of language,
which they also possessed; but they could no longer counteract the
arguments and efforts of men of abilities equal to any in the
ministerial interest, and possessed of more humanity, who wished to
put a period to the destructive calamities that had now for seven
years embarrassed and distressed the nation.

The most gloomy prospect pervaded every mind on the contemplation

of a further protraction war, at the same time that the termination of
the campaign in Virginia, had nearly defeated the flattering hopes of
those who had labored with so much zeal and fervor to subjugate the
united colonies of America. It was said in Parliament that "the
immense expense, the great accumulation of public debt, by the ever
to be lamented contest with America, the effusion of human blood
which it had occasioned, the diminution of trade and the increase of
taxes were evils of such magnitude as could scarcely overlooked
even by the most insensible and inattentive."

It was the unanimous opinion of those who had ever been favorers of
more lenient measures that any further efforts to reduce the revolted
colonies to obedience by force, under the present circumstances,
would only increase the mutual enmity, so fatal to the interests of
Great Britain and America, and forever prevent a reconciliation; and
that it would weaken the efforts of Great Britain against the House of
Bourbon and other European enemies.

It is true that the standard of respectability on which Great Britain had

long been placed, was already shaken; that she had in a degree lost
her political influence with, and was view by, surrounding nations
through a less terrific medium than at any period since the immense
increase of power acquired by her formidable navy.

The colonies alienated, Ireland in a state of desperation, Scotland little

less discontented, a considerable part of the West Indies lost to Great
Britain, the affairs of the kingdom in the East Indies in the most
deranged and perturbed state, by the mismanagement and avarice of
their officers vested with unlimited powers wantonly abused; it was
impossible, under the load of calumny, opposition, and perplexity, for
the old ministry, the ostensible agents of these complicated evils,
longer to resist the national will.

Many plausible arguments were urged in vindication of the measures

of administration, at the same time that the fatal consequences were
acknowledged by their defenders; but acknowledged only as the
common events which have been experienced by other nations, who
have failed in their best concerted enterprises, and been humbled
before the enemies whose destruction had too sanguinely been
calculated. But the minister was implicated by the increasing
opposition, as the author of all the calamities a just Providence had
seen fit to inflict on a nation, who at the close of the preceding reign
had considered all the world at their feet.
The parliamentary debates, indeed, were at this time very interesting.
Lord John Cavendish observed that above a hundred million sterling
had been expended within five years on the army and navy, and
backed his assertion by several resolves, criminating the ministry as
totally deficient in point of ability to retrieve the wretched state of the
nation, after they had thrown away the thirteen colonies and other
appendages of the empire. However, had their talents been sufficient
to have retrieved the public misfortunes, in which their pernicious
councils had involved their country, there did not appear the smallest
disposition in the present ministry to make the attempt or to resign
their places.

A detail of the expenses of the fruitless war with America was laid
before the House of Commons in a very impressive style; and though
many arguments were used in favor of the ministry, no subterfuge
could screen them, nor any reluctance they felt, retard the necessity
of their resignations. This was called for from every quarter, in terms
severe and sarcastic. "One gentleman requested that "whenever the
prime minister, to the unspeakable joy of the nation, should really go
to his sovereign to resign his employments, as he had once promised
to do when "Parliament should withdraw its confidence from him, he
hoped now that period was come, he would not forget to lay before
the King a fair representation of the flourishing state in which he
found His Majesty's Empire when the government of it was entrusted
to his hands, and the ruinous condition in which he was about to leave
all that remained of it."

Some thought that the party in opposition were too ready to draw
degrading pictures of the calamitous state of the nation and the
blunders of its officers; it was their opinion that thus by exposing the
national weakness, they might strengthen the hands of their enemies,
now triumphant at the misfortunes that had already befallen them.
But the irresistible force of truth, combined with imperious necessity,
wrought conviction on some and softened the obstinacy of others, by
which a majority was obtained and the late measures decidedly
condemned.

The old ministry were soon after obliged to relinquish their places, and
a new line of public measures adopted. The hollow murmur of
discontent at last penetrated the ear of royalty and impelled the pride
of Majesty to listen to the general voice in favor of the immediate
restoration of tranquility; and however sanguine the King of England
had long been, in favor of coercing his American subjects to
unconstitutional and unconditional obedience, he could not much
longer withstand the torrent of opposition to the cruel system.

Events were now nearly ripened, which soon produced a truce to the
scourge of war, which had so long desolated families, villas, and
cities. The energetic arguments and perspicuous reasonings, which
do not always apply in their full force on the minds of those
prepossessed by partial affection and esteem, covered with the veil of
prejudice in favor of political opinions similar to their own, were
necessarily lad aside, and the opposition to peace daily drawn into a
narrower compass. Reason, humanity, policy, and justice urged so
forcibly by men of the best abilities, could not longer be withstood.
Among these were many who shed the tears of sorrow over the
ashes of their friends, who had fallen in the "tented fields" of
America. In others, the feelings of indignation arose from a survey of
the profuse expenditure, and the wanton waste of public money.
Besides these, not a few persons were mortified at the eclipse of
military glory, which had formerly emblazoned the laurels and
illumined the characters of British chieftains.

Indeed, America at this period was not a theater on which generous

Britons could expect, or with to acquire glory. They were sensible
that their success must eradicate the noble principles of liberty for
which their ancestors had reasoned, struggled, and fought against
the invasions of their arbitrary kings from the days of William the
Norman to the Tudors, and form the last of the Tudor line, their adored
Queen Elizabeth, through the race of the Stuarts, no less
contemptible than arbitrary, until the necessity of equal exertion was
revived in the reign of George III. At the same time, it was too evident
to all that repeated defeat had already tarnished the luster of British
arms. The celebrity of some of their most renowned commanders
was shrouded in disappointment; their minds enveloped in chagrin
doubly mortifying, as it was the result of exertion from enemies they
had viewed with contempt, as too deficient in talents, courage,
discipline, and resources to combat the prowess and imagined
superiority of British veterans. From these circumstances, it had
been calculated that the Americans might be reduced even by the
terror of their approach, and the fame of that military glory long
attached to the character and valor of British soldiers.

But He who ordains the destiny of man, conceals his purposes until
the completion of the deigns of divine government. This should teach
mankind the lessons of humility and candor, instead of an indulgence
of that fierce, vindictive spirit that aims at the destruction of its own
species, under the imposing authority of obtrusive despotism.

____________

Chapter Twenty-Four: Naval transactions. Rupture between England

and France opened in the Bay of Biscay. Admiral Keppel. Serapis
and the Countess of Scarborough captured by Paul Jones. The
protection given him by the States-General resented by the British
Court. Transactions in the West Indies. Sir George Bridges Rodney
returns to England after the capture of St. Eustatia. Sent out again
the succeeding year. Engages an defeats the French squadron under
the command of the Count de Grasse. Capture of the Ville de Paris.
The Count de Grasse sent to England. Admiral Rodney created a
peer of the realm on his return to England.

To prevent breaking in on and interrupting the thread of narration,

through a detail of the important and interesting scenes acting on the
American theater, many great naval operations have been passed
over in silence, and others but slightly noticed. A particular
description of nautical war was never designed by the writer of these
pages; yet a retrospect may here be proper, and a cursory survey
necessary, of some of the most capital transactions on the ocean,
which were closely connected with American affairs and the interests
of her allies.

The beginning of naval hostilities between Great Britain and France

took place in the Bay of Biscay in June 1778. A fleet commanded by
Admiral Keppel, a gentleman in whom the nation had the highest
confidence, from his bravery, his prudence, and long experience in
naval transactions, was at this critical period directed to sail with
discretionary orders. A member of Parliament of eminence observed
"that all descriptions of men seemed pleased with the choice, and to
feel their own security included in the appointment" of such an able
commander at so anxious a moment. He met a squadron of 32 ships
of the line and a large number of frigates, commanded by the Count
D'Orvilliers, before he was in reality prepared for an interview with
such a formidable force on the part of France. This was indeed
before any formal declaration of war had taken place between the rival
nations.

Two frigates from the squadron of D'Orvilliers were very soon

discovered near enough to prove evidently that they were on a survey
of the British fleet. They were pursued, and a civil message delivered
to the captain of the Licorne from the English admiral; but it was not
civilly returned. Some shot were exchanged, and in a short time, the
frigate surrendered.

The other French frigate, called the Belle-Poule, was of heavier metal
and, appearing disposed for a rencounter, Captain Marshal, who
commanded the Arethusa, pursued her until out of sight of the fleet.
When near enough to announce his orders, he informed the captain
of the Belle-Poule that he was directed to conduct him to the British
admiral. A peremptory refusal of compliance on the part of the French
captain induced Captain Marshal to fire a shot across the Belle-
Poule. This was returned by the discharge of a whole broadside from
the Bell-Poule into the Arethusa.

A severe action ensured, which continued near two hours. Both

frigates suffered much. The Arethusa was so far disabled that she
was conducted off the French coast by two British ships that
accompanied the chase and arrived in time to tow her back to the
fleet. The Belle-Poule escaped only by running into a small bay on
the coast of France. The resolute deportment of the French captain,
in this beginning of naval hostilities between the two nations, was
much applauded by his countrymen, and munificently rewarded by
the King of France.

For some time after this action, a mutual display of the strength of the
two fleets was kept up: chasing, re-chasing, maneuvering, and
gasconade continued for several days, with little effective action and
no decision. During the cruise, Admiral Keppel discovered by the
officer of a frigate taken after the action of the Belle-Poule and the
Arethusa, that D'Orvilliers was in daily expectation of reinforcements
of strength, while there was yet no formal declaration of war, while the
French admiral played off, as unwilling to begin hostilities and while,
from may circumstances, Keppel himself was in no situation for a
general engagement. Thus, to the unspeakable mortification of this
meritorious officer, he found it convenient to turn his back on the
French squadron and repair to England.

His own inadequate force and equipment to meet the powerful

squadrons of France, which had been prepared with diligence and
system for the execution of great designs, was viewed by him with
the deepest regret, both for his own share in the disappointment and
the disgrace brought on his nation by such unpardonable negligence.
He had, however, from the discoveries he had made, from the officers
of the captured frigates and the causes which had induced his
immediate return, kept his opinions very much within his own breast,
disposed to think candidly of men in high office, great responsibility,
and some of them endowed with superior talents. He hoped, from
the necessities of the moment, the honor of the nation, and the
hazard of their own characters, they would adopt and adhere to more
decisive and efficient measures in the future.

The motives of the admiral unknown to the people at large,

occasioned much censure from the lips of those who were
unacquainted with the circumstances. The superiority of the French
fleet under D'Orvilliers, and the additional strength he expected from
several other armaments prepared to join him, rendered it impossible
for Admiral Keppel, with only 20 ships of the line, to make any
effectual resistance, if a declaration of war should warrant an attack
from the French commander, who had a fleet of between 30 and 40
sail of the line, besides a great number of frigates, ready for action.

Admiral Keppel very judiciously apprehended that the most cautious

and prudent steps were necessary, not only to prevent the loss of his
own fleet, but other inseparable evils to his nation, which might have
been the consequence of defeat. He had certain information of the
meditated designs of France, unexpectedly to strike at the trade of
the nation by interrupting their convoys and giving a wound to the
honor of the English navy, which would redound much to their own
advantage in the outset of a war; while his own fleet, deficient in
almost everything necessary for any effectual resistance, was
incapable of maintaining its station.

Conscious that his conduct needed no apology, that the failure of the
hopes of the English was owing to the neglect or want of judgment in
the ministry, the admiralty, and other departments, he silently bore the
censure of his enemies, the clamors of the multitude, and the
opprobrium that often lights on character from the tacit demeanor of
false friends, and prepared with the utmost dispatch again to sail and
meet the commander of the French squadron.

New exertions were made by the directors of naval affairs; and within
a few days, the brave admiral was enabled again to sail with better
prospects of success, in pursuit of the Brest fleet, which was also
reinforced by some of the heaviest ships and most distinguished
commanders in the French service. The two fleets met, maneuvered,
fought, retreated, chased, bid mutual defiance, and fought again; but
neither of them had a right to claim the palm of victory, from any
circumstances of the interview.

The failure of this second expedition might have been owing, in part,
to a misunderstanding between Admiral Keppel and some of his
principal officers. Other causes might cooperate. There is a delicacy
of feeling in the mind of man, or rather a moral sense that forbids
aggression and excites a reluctance to striking the first blow that must
involve the human species in carnage and murder. But, when war has
been denounced by regal authority, and the usual sanction of public
proclamation, licensed by the common formalities on such occasions,
and hardened by repeated irritation and violence, the crash of burning
or sinking ships, swallowed in the yawning deep, ceases to excite
due compassion in the sanguine bosom, inured to behold the
miseries of his fellow men.

This disappointment in the beginning of a war with France occasioned

much party bitterness through the English nation. The odium of ill
success was bandied for some time between the partisans of Sir
Hugh Palliser, rear admiral of the blue, and those of the brave
Keppel. Both admirals were tried by court martial; and after long
investigation, the business finally terminated in the honorable acquittal
of Admiral Keppel, from the charge of negligence, want to ability, or
misconduct in any respect; -[For a particular detail of this interesting
affair, the trials of the two admirals, and the virulence of party on the
occasion, the reader may be referred to their trials and to other British
authorities.] and his reputation completely restored, his calm dignity
and cool deportment, through many trying circumstances, more
strongly attached his old friends and procured him many new ones.
He was afterwards appointed First Lord of the Admiralty. He received
the thanks of both houses of Parliament for his many and essential
services to his country. Public rejoicings on his acquittal testified the
general esteem of the people, while the ratio of disgrace that fell on
Admiral Palliser led him to resign all his public employments.

There had, previous to the late engagement, been the appearance of

the strictest friendship between Admiral Keppel and Sir Hugh Palliser,
rear admiral of the blue. It is uncertain what interrupted this amity. It
might have arisen from a spirit of rivalry or the pride of a subordinate
officer who persecuted the aged commander with unceasing
bitterness and divided the opinion of the public for a time, relative to
the appropriate merits of each; but the balance continued in favor of
Lord Keppel to the end of his life.

A naval rencounter took place the next year which, though of less
magnitude than many others, is worthy of notice from the valor of the
transaction and some circumstances that attended it which were
interwoven with the political conduct of the Dutch nation.

Captain John Paul Jones had sailed from L'Orient in the summer of
1779 in order to cruise the North Sea. The Bon-homme Richard,
which he commanded, was accompanied by the Alliance, a well-built
American ship, and two or three other smaller frigates.

About the beginning of September, they fell in with the Serapis, an

English ship of superior force, commanded by Captain Pierson. She
was accompanied by a smaller ship the Countess of Scarborough.
They soon engaged. The action was valorous and desperate, severe
and bloody; and taken in all its circumstances, perhaps one of the
bravest marine battles that took place during the war. Both the
English ships were taken by the Americans. The Bon-homme
Richard and the Serapis were several times on fire at the same
moment. The Bon-homme Richard was reduced to a wreck, and
sunk soon after the action, which continued long enough for the Baltic
fleet of British homeward-bound ships, which had been under the
convoy of the Serapis and Countess of Scarborough, to make their
escape and get safe to England. After this tremendous blaze of
horror and destruction, the little American squadron repaired to the
Texel to refit, carrying with them their prisoners and their prizes.

Captain Pierson acquitted himself with the gallantry of a British

commander, zealous for the honor of his nation. But he was not
permitted by the American officers to go on shore in Holland and pay
his respects to Sir Joseph Yorke, the British ambassador resident at
the Hague. This he reported in the close of his account of the
engagement, received at the admiralty office. It was a circumstance
grievous to himself and highly resented by the British ambassador.
He demanded of the States-General that the Alliance and the other
ships commanded by the rebel and pirate, John Paul Jones, should,
with their crews, be stopped an delivered up.

Their high mightinesses replied to the demand of Sir Joseph Yorke

that they should not take upon themselves to judge of the legality or
illegality of those who had taken vessels on the open seas belonging
to other countries; that their ports were open to shelter from storms
and disasters; that they should not suffer the Americans to unload
their cargoes, but should permit them to go to sea again after refitting;
without taking on themselves to judge, as they did not think they were
authorized to pass an opinion on the prizes or the person of Paul
Jones.

The naval rencounters between the nations were too numerous to

particularize. Those who are acquainted with maritime affairs, the
phrases of navigation, and are fond of the exhibition of sea fights,
may dwell longer on the description of single actions; while the
curiosity of every inquirer may be sufficiently gratified by the proud
boasters who insolently describe the British flag as controlling the
nations and defying the universe to attack their fleets.

We shall pass over the more minute transactions and again recur to
the general expectation relating to the siege of Gibraltar, which was
long kept awake before a final decision. It is, however, necessary,
previous to the relinquishment of the conquest of the contested spot,
to observe on several intervening transactions of moment. It has
been related in a former chapter that this fortress was relieved for a
time by Sir George Bridges Rodney on his way to the West Indies in
1780.

He had been remarkably successful in the interception of convoys, the

interruption of the trade of the enemies of Britain, and the capture of
the homeward-bound ships of France and Spain. He fell in with 15
sail of merchantmen, under the convoy of a 64 gun ship and several
frigates, found from St. Sebastian's to Cadiz. He captured the hole
fleet, which belonged to the royal company of the Caracas. The
principal part of their cargoes was wheat and other provisions much
wanted at Gibraltar, where the admiral immediately sent them. A
large quantity of bale goods and naval stores, equally necessary for
the use of his countrymen, he sent forward to England.

He soon after fell in with a Spanish squadron of 11 ships of the line,

under the command of Don Juan Langara, who declined an
engagement, from the inequality of his force. But Admiral Rodney,
determined to pursue his success, gave chase until the enemy were
nearly involved among the shoals of St. Lucar; and not approaching,
the brave Spaniard was compelled to the conflict. Early in the
engagement, the Spanish ship San Domingo, of 70 guns and 600
men, blew up and all on board perished. The English man of war
with which she was engaged narrowly escaped a similar ate.

The action was severe and conducted on both sides with the greatest
intrepidity, until the Spanish admiral was dangerously wounded and
most of his ships had surrendered. He then struck his flag,
surrendered his own ship, reduced to a wreck, and submitted to the
valiant English. This action continued nearly through the night; and
many singular instances of valor and generosity were displayed on
both sides, before the palm of victory was insured to the gallant
Rodney.

His good fortune followed him to the tropical seas; an his rencounters
with the Admiral de Guichen and other brave commanders of the
Bourbon fleets, always terminated in his favor. Indeed, his successes
were sometimes a little variant, and his squadron frequently suffered
much loss and damage in his severe conflicts with French and
Spanish fleets; yet he was always victorious. On his way to the West
Indies, nothing stood before him. Many of the enemies of Great
Britain, both in the commercial and military line, fell into his hands.

A plan had been meditated by the combined fleets of France and

Spain to seize the rich island of Jamaica. The interference of Rodney
more than once prevented the loss of this valuable spot. This was a
favorite object with the French; nor was it relinquished until fortune
had frowned repeatedly on the lilies of France and humbled the
Gallican flag beneath her victorious rival, who waved her proud
banners around her insular possessions, to the terror of France and
the mortification of America.

From the capture of Dominca by the Marquis de Bouille in 1778, the

West India islands had been alternately agitated by the various
successes of the contending fleets, until the seizure of St. Eustatia by
Sir George Bridges Rodney in February 1781.

In the autumn of 1780, tempest, hurricane, and earthquake had raged

through all the islands in a degree unparalleled in those latitudes,
though always subject to the most violent tornadoes. Several of the
best of the islands had been nearly ruined by those recent
devastations of nature, and others rendered too weak for defense
against less potent foes than those who waved the flag of Britain.
The winter after the accumulated misfortunes occasioned by those
convulsions, Admiral Rodney arrived in the West Indies with a strong
and potent fleet and army. The army was commanded by General
Vaughan. Rodney and Vaughan in conjunction took advantage of the
weak, dismantled state to which St. Vincent's was reduced and
attempted the reduction of the island. But, unexpectedly repulsed by
the bravery of the French, commanded by the Marquis de Bouille, the
next enterprise of Sir George Bridges Rodney was against the rich,
but defenseless island of St. Eustatia.

The unexpected attack on the Dutch island was in consequence of

secret orders received before they left England, from the Board of
Admiralty. The arrival of the British armament in the West Indies as
accompanied by intelligence, not suspected by the islanders, that
hostilities were denounced against the Republic of Holland by a
manifesto of the King of England.

The United Netherlands had not yet ratified any formal treaty with the
American states, though, as has been observed, a plan for that
purpose had been found among the paper of Mr. Laurens. It is true,
the design of a close connection with Congress and the colonies was
avowed by the principal citizens of Amsterdam. It also appeared from
strong circumstances that many of the most respectable inhabitants in
other parts of the Batavian circles were equally disposed to unite with
the Americans. But it was some time after this period before the
independence of the United States of America was acknowledged by
the Stadtholder and their high mightinesses in the Hague.

Yet the assistance given by the merchants of some of the capital

provinces, their negotiations with the agents of Congress, and their
temporizing with regard to receiving a minister, sent on after the
misfortune of Mr. Laurens to complete the terms of amity and
commerce with the rebellious subjects of America, as they were
termed, were steps too bold and affrontive to the Sovereign of Britain
and to the English nation, then the ancient ally of the Batavians, to be
passed over with impunity.

The Dutch Court, as observed, did not openly countenance these

proceedings. Yet, we have seen above that when repeatedly called
upon by Sir Joseph Yorke, in the name of his Sovereign, publicly to
disavow them and to punish by inhibitions, penalties, and other
severities, all who held any correspondence with Congress or
encouraged and supported the revolted colonies; yet no explicit
declaration for that purpose could be obtained. Vexed at the
equivocal conduct of the States-General, and there being no prospect
of the minister's succeeding in his wishes, he was recalled from the
Hague, and reasons were soon after assigned by manifesto for the
commencement of hostilities against the Batavian provinces, in the
usual style of regal apology for the waste of human life.

Thus the storm burst on the Dutch West India islands before they
were apprehensive of the smallest danger from a state of war. St.
Eustatia had long been considered, by Europeans and Americans, as
the most advantageous mart of any of the tropical islands.
Consequently, their trade and their wealth had increased beyond all
calculation. The inhabitants were generally absorbed in their own
private business, the bulk of the merchants affluent and secure, the
magistrates at ease, and the Dutch officers totally unapprehensive of
an attack from any foreign foe. The fortresses in a state of ruin and
the island weakened by the late hurricanes, they were in no condition
for defense, nor did they attempt the smallest resistance, on the
approach of a powerful British fleet and army.

The surprise and astonishment of both the governor and the people,
on the summons to surrender themselves and their island, cannot be
described. Their deliberations were short. Mr. de Graaf, the Dutch
governor, with the consent of the magistrates and the principal
inhabitants, returned a laconic answer to the summons of the British
commander. He concisely observed "that confident of the lenity of Sir
George Bridges Rodney and General Vaughan, the whole island and
its dependencies surrendered. Firmly relying on their honor and
humanity, they only recommended the town and the inhabitants to
their mercy."

This submission proved the consignment of themselves and families

to immediate poverty, desolation, and every species of misery. All
descriptions of persons were at once involved in the same common
ruin. Not only the officers of government and the independent
sojourner in this devoted island, but the merchant, the factor, the
planter, and the innocent individual of every class, whether Dutch or
British, Americans or Jews, were all overwhelmed in one
promiscuous, unexampled insult, outrage, and plunder. Slaves were
bribed to betray their maters and inveigled to discover the smallest
pittance of property that might have been secreted by the opulent or
the aged to preserve a wretched existence after the loss of
connections, fortune, and prospects.

When obstinate resistance and high-toned language irritates the

passions of men, it may be thought by some an apology for the
extreme rigor too frequently exercised by the illiberal mind toward a
conquered enemy. But when full confidence has been placed in the
generosity, urbanity, and equity of the victor, and submission made
without a blow, the cruel inflictions imposed on the unfortunate by the
successful assailant are violations of the feelings of humanity, and a
departure from the nobler principles of the soul, that can never be
justified by the laws of policy or even the hostile usages of war. Nor
can the dignity of rank, or the glittering badges of ancestral honor
prevent the indignation that must ever arise in the bosom of humanity
on a survey of the rapacity, insolence, and atrocity of conduct in the
conquerors of St. Eustatia.

Submission undoubtedly entitles to protection, and the vanquished

have ever a claim both for compassion and support from the victor.
Instead of this just and generous line of action, all safety was
precluded, by indiscriminate abuse and plunder. After the surrender
of this opulent island, one general pillage, confiscation, banishment,
or death succeeded; and, as observed afterwards by Mr. Burke in the
House of Commons, "the Dutch were robbed and banished, because
they were Dutch; the Americans, because they were the King's
enemies; the Jews, because their religion was different from that of
the conquerors."

Some gentlemen of the most capital commercial characters were

confined as criminals of a peculiar cast and punished in a two-fold
sense. An extraordinary instance of this nature was exhibited in the
treatment of Messrs. Courzen and Governier, two of the first
merchants on the island. As Dutchmen, their property was
confiscated. As Englishmen, they were sent to England as traitors to
the King, charged with corresponding with "American agents,
imprisoned and tried for high treason.

Mr. Hohen, an eminent Jewish merchant, a native of Amsterdam who

had resided at St. Eustatia 25 years, received notice, without any
crime alleged, that he must quit the island without a day's delay.
Ignorant of the place of his destination, while on his ay to embark, he
experienced every severe usage. His trunk was rifled; his clothes
ripped open; and a small sum of money he had secreted to preserve
him from famine, taken from him, even to his last penny. Thus,
suddenly robbed and reduced from high fortune to absolute want,
when he arrived in England, he petitioned the House of Commons for
redress, and his cause was supported by the brilliant elocution of Mr.
Burke and others. Yet the injured Israelite found no relief from the
justice or compassion of the nation.

Such was the rapacity of the plunderers of this unfortunate island that
in many other instances the garments of the aged and respectable
were rent open in search of a bit of gold that might possibly have
been concealed for the purchase of a morsel of bread for their
innocent and helpless families. Thus, from the pinnacle of affluence,
many were reduced in a day to the extreme of penury and despair. All
the Jews on the island received similar treatment to that above
related. Their sufferings had no amelioration. They were informed
that they were all to be transported, and only one day was allowed to
any of them for preparation, before they were robbed of their
treasures, and sent away penniless among strangers.

Indeed, three was little discrimination among the miserable inhabitants

of this once wealthy spot. The whole property of the island, collected
by every undue method, was exposed to public sale; and Admiral
Rodney, the commander of a British fleet of upwards of 30 ships of
the line, and the renowned General Vaughan, at the head of 3000 or
4000 troops, were engaged from the beginning of February until the
May following in the little arts of auctioneering and traffic, in a manner
that would have disgraced the petty merchant, who had not
renounced all pretenses to honor.

The islands of Saba, St. Martin's, and others had surrendered to some
detachments from the British fleet and army on the same easy terms;
and, with similar hopes of security and protection, they suffered
nearly the same merciless fate from the hands of British conquerors
that had been recently experienced by the inhabitants of St. Eustatia.

Meantime, the Marquis de Bouille improved the favorable opportunity,

while the British commanders were engaged in securing the plunder
of the conquered isles, to reduce Tobago to the arms of the French
monarch. This required a little more military prowess than had yet
been called into action by his competitors for the possession of the
West India islands.

Governor Ferguson, who commanded at Tobago, made a manly

defense for eight or ten days; but receiving no succors from Admiral
Rodney, though within 24
hours' sail, and too weak to hold out longer without assistance, he was
obliged to capitulate.

The terms granted by the noble Frenchman were honorable and

lenient. The officers and troops in garrison were permitted to march
out with the honors of war; after which, the soldiers were to lay down
their arms, but the officers had liberty to retain theirs. the inhabitants
were allowed to preserve their own civil government, laws, and
customers; to enjoy their estates, rights, privileges, honors, and
exemptions, with a promise of protection in the free exercise of their
religion, until peace should take place. No other engagement was
required on their part than an oath of fidelity tot he King of France, to
observe a strict neutrality until that happy event should be
accomplished. They were left at full liberty to dispose of their property
at leisure and to proceed in their commercial affairs as usual; with this
father indulgence, that no merchant ships, the property of the
inhabitants of the island or its dependencies, that might arrive from
England within six months, should be liable to confiscation or seizure.

It is observable that the distinguished traits of generosity in the

demeanor of the Marquis de Bouille were not forgotten by those who
witnessed and experienced his clemency. Some time after the
transactions above related, a large number of gentlemen in England,
belonging to the several islands, met and unanimously passed a vote
expressive of their high sense of gratitude for his humanity, justice,
and generosity, exemplified and displayed in this treatment of the
conquered isles; and as a testimony of their veneration and esteem,
they ordered a piece of plate, with an inscription of their thanks, to be
presented him by Sir William Young, chairman of the committee.
[Analytical Register.]

After this short narration of the capture of the island of Tobago and the
moderation shown by the inhabitants by the victor, a further detail is
not necessary to contrast the behavior of the British and French
commanders in the West Indies a this period of the war.
Many particulars through the busy scene kept up in the tropical seas,
through this and the succeeding year, need not here be related;
though it is proper to observe that it was but a few months after the
surrender of these islands and the sufferings they experienced from
the severity of the British conquerors, before St. Martin's, Saba, and
St. Eustatia were surprised and recovered by the Marquis de Bouille.

It may be anticipating time, yet, to prevent the interruption of the story

of other events, it will not be deemed improper to continue the
narration of the insular war that raged with unabating fury in the West
Indies through the succeeding year.

From the arrival of the Count de Grasse in these seas, with his brave,
victorious fleet from the Chesapeake, at the close of the year 1781,
not the smallest mitigation of the horrors of war took place until after
the defeat of the squadron commanded by him, an event which did
not happen until April 12, 1782.

Soon after the entire ruin of the inhabitants of St. Eustatia, Sir George
B. Rodney had returned to England with his disgraceful booty, the
indiscriminate spoils of the aged, the innocent, and the affluent. He
was graciously received by His Majesty and the ministry; but, his
laurels stained by his avarice an cruelty, it was impossible, either by
address, deception, or effrontery to parry the severe reprehensions he
received from some of the first nobility in the House of Lords, as well
as from many members of distinction and talent in the House of
Commons. A particular inquiry into his conduct and that of General
Vaughan was urged in the most strenuous and pathetic manner, but
with little effect. Notwithstanding the general sense of mankind
criminated the inhumanity of their proceedings, yet the favoritism that
generally prevails in courts overruled, as usual, the dictates of justice,
and all investigation was postponed.

Admiral Rodney was again immediately sent out in full force, with
design to prevent the valuable island of Jamaica from falling under
the arms of France. Indeed, the apprehensions of the ministry on this
point were sufficiently grounded. Barbadoes, Antigua, and Jamaica
were all the possessions of consequence that the English still
retained in the West Indies. The others, as observed, had most of
them been recaptured by the French, who were pursuing victory with
vigilance and success, and in sanguine expectation of wresting all the
wealthy islands from the Crown of Britain.

When Sir George Bridges Rodney returned to the command in that

quarter, where he arrived about the middle of February 1782, he
found the French inspirited by repeated successes, ready for any
enterprise, and a formidable fleet in the highest preparation for attack
or defense.

Jamaica was indeed the prime object of expectation, but the first
important step taken by the Count de Grasse after his arrival in the
West Indies was the capture of the little island of Nevis, where he lost
no time, but immediately hastened on and set down before St.
Christopher's. There he found a large armament had been landed
some days before his arrival by the brave Marquis de Bouille.

Sir Samuel Hood, with 20 sail of the British line, attempted the relief of
that island. This brought on several rencounters between him and
the Count de Grasse, with various success, but with little decision.

St. Christopher's had been vigorously defended five weeks by General

Frazer, a brave British officer. He acquired more honor by his gallant
behavior through the whole siege. Shirley, governor of Antigua,
brought forward 300 or 400 militia and fought, hazarded, and suffered
equally with his friend General Frazer, until necessity compelled them
at last to yield. The island was surrendered by capitulation to the
Crown of France on February 12, 1782.
The same lenient and generous terms were admitted by the
conqueror as had before been granted by him to the inhabitants of
Tobago, Demerara, Essequibo, and several other places of less
consequence than St. Christopher's or St. Eustatia, who had
repeatedly, as well as those, changed their masters in the struggle
and were now again the subjects of France. But the inhabitants of St.
Christopher's, by the moderate terms of capitulation, were scarcely
sensible of a change of sovereignty. The garrison was permitted the
honors of war in the strictest sense. The troops were transported to
England until an exchange of prisoners should take place.

By a particular article, the Marquis de Bouille, as an acknowledgment

of their intrepidity and valor, discharged Brigadier General Frazer and
Governor Shirley, who had aided in the defense of the island, from
the condition of being considered prisoners of war. To Mr. Shirley he
gave liberty to return to his government in Antigua, and to General
Frazer the permission of continuing in the service of his country, in
whatever place he chose.

The generosity of the Marquis merited and received a large share of

applause, both from friends and foes; and the name of Bouille was
everywhere respected, for his equitable, humane, and honorable
deportment toward all the captured islands that fell into his hands.
But, notwithstanding the valor, the virtue, the magnanimity, and the
repeated successes of the Marquis de Bouille, over the best and
bravest troops and officers that had been employed in any part of the
worth; notwithstanding the fame and valor of the Count de Grasse
and the strength of the French navy; fortune soon changed her face,
frowned on the flag of France, caused her lilies again to droop
beneath the showers of fire poured on them by the and of the intrepid
Rodney, and, as usual, placed her laurel son his brow.

On his second arrival in the West Indies, where the Bourbon flag had
waved for some months under the most favorable aspect, he found
both his reinforcements and his vigilance necessary to impede the
blow meditated against Jamaica. A powerful Spanish fleet had
arrived at Hispaniola, also a large number of land forces, amply
supplied with everything necessary to join the Count de Grasse in the
designed expedition. Besides these, there was a body of troops at
Cuba for the same purpose.

Though the island of Jamaica still belonged to the British Crown, it

was in no respect prepared for an invasion. the island was naturally
strong and defensible, but here were few troops in garrison, and the
inhabitants, more attentive to their wealth and pleasure than
tenaciously attached to a foreign sovereign of their island, security
was their object, under whatever authority they held their immense
estates; and conquest would have been easy to any power that
should guarantee the enjoyment of fortune, luxury, and idleness.

When Admiral Rodney arrived, they had little to fear. He was joined
by the squadron under the command of Sir Samuel Hood, and
another commanded by Admiral Drake. Thus the British flag among
the islands appeared in a capacity to challenge, not only the naval
forces of France, but all the maritime powers of Europe.

Sir George B. Rodney very early and very judiciously endeavored, by

various maneuvers, to draw the French admiral into immediate
action. This the Count de Grasse was equally industrious to avoid.
he was aware that it might defeat the important objects before him,
and prevent the capture of the most valuable of the British
possessions yet remaining under their jurisdiction. but, however
reluctant, he was, much against his wishes, obliged first to come to a
partial, and within a few days, to a general engagement. This ruined
the expectations, the enterprise, and the hopes of the House of
Bourbon in this quarter, saved Jamaica from its impending fate, and
destroyed a considerable part of the French fleet.

The conflict was long, severe, and bloody indeed. The Count de
Grasse, the Marquis Vaudreuil, the renowned Bougainville, and many
other characters among the Gallic commanders had never before
experienced the mortification of defeat. They fought with the impulse
of the brave soldier, the enthusiasm of chivalry, the pride of nobility,
and the dignity of the hero, confident of success.

The order of their line was, however, broken by the experienced and
indefatigable Englishmen, and several of the beset of the French
ships were either captured, sunk, or blown up. This decisive action
began early in the morning and lasted until the evening. he carnage
on this occasion, on both sides, was sufficient to shock the boldest
heart. The surrender of the admiral's own ship, the Ville de Paris, of
110 guns, completed the triumph of the day. Before the Count de
Grasse struck his colors, he had 400 men slain, and scarcely anyone
left on deck without a wound. This ship, aimed at as the point of
victory by all the British whose thunder could reach her, was reduced
to a wreck, and on the point of sinking, when the admiral surrendered
to Sir Samuel Hood at the close of the day of action.

The commanders of the other ships in the French navy conducted

with equal gallantry, and suffered in equal proportion with the Ville de
Paris. the captains of the Centaur, the Glorieux, and the Caesar did
themselves immortal honor in the eye of military glory. They kept
their stations until most of their men were killed or wounded, their
canvas short away, and their ships reduced to splinters, before they
submitted; and the lives of many valiant seamen, with some of their
bravest officers, was the price of victory to their enemies.

On the other side, the loss of many valiant men and distinguished
officers spread a temporary glom over the face of success. Among
the number of gallant Englishmen who fell on this awful day of
carnage, no one was more lamented than the commander of the
Resolution, Lord Robert Manners, the only son of the Marquis of
Granby, whose gallant and noble military exploits have perpetuated
his fame; nor did his son fall short of his merit, or in any respect
disgrace the memory of this heroic father.
After the surrender of the Count de Grasse, which terminate the
action, he was received on board a British ship with the highest
marks of respect, and uniformly treated with every attention due to his
distinguished character. The commanders Bougainville and Vaudreuil
conducted the remainder of the fleet which escaped capture or
sinking, to Cape Francois; and Admiral Rodney, with his wounded
ships an numerous prizes, repaired to Jamaica to refit, and to secure
that island from any further danger of attack, either from France or
Spain.

The Count de Grasse was immediately conveyed to England in the

Sandwich, of 90 guns, commanded by Sir Peter Parker, who had the
honor of delivering this noble prisoner on the shores which had long
dreaded his prowess.

The reception of the unfortunate French commander at the Court of

Great Britain, by His Majesty, by the royal family, and by all ranks,
was in the highest degree respectful. His own sword, which,
according to form, had been delivered to Sir George Bridges Rodney,
was returned to his hand by the King Himself. Apartments were
provided for him in the royal hotel; and during his short residence in
England, nothing was neglected that could in any degree ameliorate
the mortification of a mind inured to victory, an amid expectations of
conquest reduced to a state of captivity.

All that a most sumptuous elegance and hospitality could invent was
displayed, to express the general esteem of the firs characters in the
nation, and the high sense entertained by every class of people, of
the magnanimity, merits, and misfortunes of the brave and noble
commander of the French navy. He, indeed, needed consolations
superior to the efforts of politeness and humanity. He was sensible
that his court was disgusted, and his nation chagrined beyond
description, at the disappointment of their projects, the loss of the
Ville de Paris, and the destruction of other capital ships. the wound
given to national pride appeared in the countenance of every
Frenchman on this unexpected degradation of the Bourbon flag. "The
Ville de Paris in the Thames," was mentioned with a shrug of
contempt by everyone; and a subscription was set on foot among the
Parisians for another ship of the same name, size, and weight of
metal, to be immediately built.

Public opinion had its usual operation on military character, which

seldom escapes untarnished when not accompanied by success.
Thus, ;while the Count de Grasse was oppressed by public
considerations, and the odium mankind are prone to attach to
misfortune, his feelings were hurt by the personal sufferings of
himself and his family, and the imagined depreciation of fame; and in
addition to the fear of a sinking reputation, the death of a favorite son
completed the climax of his afflictions.

This amiable and promising young gentleman, unable to bear the

reverse of fortune, the reproaches, however unjust, which he feared
might all upon his father, and the incalculable consequences to his
family that might take place in a despotic court, from the present
misfortune, put a period to his own existence by a pistol ball, soon
after the tiding of his father's defeat. [The writer had the above
account verbally of the death of the son of the Count de Grasse, from
a gentleman then in Paris.]

Thus merit languished in captivity, assailed by private sorrow,

apprehensive of public censure, and uncertain of the duration of his
confinement, or the grade of punishment that might be inflicted by his
King. He very well knew that in an arbitrary court, death or the Bastille
might cover his head forever, for the failure of achievements
impracticable by the valor of man. Meanwhile, the rival of his glory, or
rather the conqueror of the noble count, might justly be deemed one
of the favorite sons of fortune.

Sir George B. Rodney was undoubtedly a brave officer, and his

repeated successes in the West Indies greatly augmented his military
fame;. But for his cruelty and his avarice the preceding year, he was
justly and severely censured by every virtuous man in the nation. His
accumulation of property in the plunder of the Dutch and French
islands, was thought abundantly sufficient to have satisfied the
grasping hand of avarice, without the extreme of rapacity exercised
toward every individual of the conquered plantations.

Though in the midst of inquiry into his conduct he had again been sent
out on the most honorable command, his cruelty on the capture of St.
Eustatia was not forgotten in his absence. His injustice toward
Messrs. Hohen, Courzen, Governier, and others was brought forward
and criminated in the most pointed language. A scrutiny was again
called for in the House of Commons. His reputation impeached; and
a supercedure of his command directed.

But at the critical moment when his destruction was ripening, the news
of his splendid and decided victory over so respectable a part of the
French navy hushed the voice of clamor, and even of justice. The
suffering islanders were forgotten in the exultation of national glory.
His friends were emboldened, his enemies silenced, his interest
reestablished; and instead of a rigid censure for former transactions,
he received the thanks of Parliament for his services. This was
accompanied by the acclamations of the people, and the applauses
of the nation, for his victory over their hereditary enemies; a victory
that secured to Great Britain her insular possessions, checked the
pride of the House of Bourbon, and was felt with no small degree of
mortification by the American states. The smiles of the Court and the
favor of the King lifted him to rank, and on his return, he was by His
Sovereign created a peer so the realm of England. To this dignity
was added a pension of 2000 pounds sterling per annum, during his
own life, and the lives of the two next successors to the title of Lord
Rodney.

The maritime spirit of Britain has always been encouraged and kept
up by the munificent rewards of royal bounty, to all who signalize
themselves by their naval prowess. This encourages the nobility to
place their sons in the navy at an early period of life, as the road to
preferment. The service was always deemed honorable; and the
interests and feelings of the first families in the nation were engaged
to support the respectability of maine employ. This, with many other
combining circumstances, has contributed to the strength, glory, and
terror of the British navy, and raised it to a pitch of elevation and
fame, scarcely paralleled in any notion, either ancient or modern.

But the time may arrive when the haughty superiority of her fleets may
be checked and their power and aggression be restrained by a
combination formed on principles of justice and humanity, among all
the nations that Britain has insulted and invaded, under the
domination of her proud flag. She may feel an irresistible opposition;
an opposition that may redound to the advantage of commerce, the
peace of mankind, and the prevention of that wanton waste of human
life, that has cemented her strength, and at once rendered Great
Britain respected and dreaded, envied, and perhaps, in a degree,
hated by all the nations; who were sometimes ready to apprehend
that the axiom formed in Greece about 3000 years ago that -- The
nation that is master at sea will become master on the continent --
might be realized in modern Europe.

__________________

Chapter Twenty-Five: Continuation of naval rencounters. Affair of

Count Byland. Sir Hyde Parker and Admiral Zeutman. Commodore
Johnstone ordered to the Cape of Good Hope. Admiral Kempenfelt.
Loss of the Royal George. Baron de Rullincort's expedition to the Isle
of Jersey. Capture of Minorca. Gibraltar again besieged, defended,
and relieved. Mr. Adams's negotiations with the Dutch provinces.
 While the active and interesting scenes in the West Indies, related in
the preceding pages, commanded the attention of America, and
deranged the systems of France, other objects of importance, by sea
as well as by land, equally occupied the arms, the industry, and the
energies of the European powers, and equally affected the great
cause of freedom and the entire independence of the United States.
The French navy had indeed suffered much in the West Indies, and
the Batavians there were nearly ruined by the unexpected operations
of war. Yet the Dutch flag still waved with honor over the ocean, and
in several instances maintained the courage, the character, and the
glory won by their Van Trumps, de Ruyters, and other naval heroes
distinguished in their history.

They had been called out to try their strength on the ocean, by the
open hostilities of Britain, in consequence of a declaration by the
King, which relieved them from a state of suspense. This declaration,
dated April 1780, annihilated all former treaties of neutrality,
friendship, or connection and suspended all stipulations respecting
the freedom of navigation and commerce in time of war, with the
subjects of the States- General.

A few weeks previous to the date of this declaration of war, the

government of Great Britain had exercised its assumed right of
searching the vessels of all nations for contraband goods. This
presumptuous right they had for many years arrogated to themselves,
though no other nation had acceded to the claim. Yet it had been
submitted to, from want of power sufficient for an effectual opposition,
while all considered it an infringement on the free trade of nations that
could not be justified by the laws of equity.

A number of Dutch merchantmen, laden with timber and naval stores

for the use of France had taken the advantage of sailing under the
protection of Count Byland, who, with a small fleet of men of war and
frigates, was to escort a convoy to the Mediterranean. In
consequence of this intelligence, the English government sent out a
 squadron of armed ships under the command of Captain Fielding, in
pursuit of them, with a commission to search, seize, and make prizes
of any of the Dutch ships that might have on board articles deemed
contraband goods, according to the construction of the British laws of
trade.

The Dutch refused to submit to the humiliating orders.

Notwithstanding which, Fielding dispatched a number of boats to
execute the business. These were fired upon by the Dutchmen; on
which, Captain Fielding fired a shot across the head of the Dutch
admiral's ship, who returned a broadside. This salute was answered
in a manner that might have been expected from a British naval
commander, and several shot were exchanged. But Count Byland,
though sensible that he was in force sufficient for a severe action that
might ensure, from the humane idea of saving the lives of his men,
thought proper to strike his colors and surrender to the English.
[British Annual Register.]

In the meantime, most of the convoy, under cover of night, made their
escape into some of the ports of France. The remainder were
detained; and the Dutch admiral informed that he was at liberty to
hoist his colors and pursue his voyage. He refused to leave any part
of his convoy, but hoisted his colors and sailed with them to Spithead,
where he continued until he received fresh instructions from his
masters.

This affair enkindled much resentment in the bosoms of the

Hollanders, who considered an attempt to search their ships as an
act of unwarrantable insolence. This, with many other concurring
circumstances which then existed, had ripened their minds for the
open rupture which soon after took place between the English and
Dutch governments.

Many feats of maritime bravery were exhibited on the ocean during

the existing war between the two nations. The most signal event of
the kind in the European seas the same year was an action which
took place between Admiral Zeutman, commander of the Dutch fleet,
and Sir Hyde Parker, who commanded a British squadron of superior
force. They met near a place called Dogger-Bank, as Admiral Parker
was returning from Elsineur with a large convoy. An engagement
immediately took place. Equal valor and prowess animated the
officers on each side, and equal fury and bravery stimulated the
sailors. An action bloody indeed was kept up for three or four hours,
but without either allowing the honor of victory to hi antagonist.

After a short pause, within a little distance from each other, they
withdrew to their native shores. Admiral Zeutman was honored,
caressed promoted, and happy in

the applauses of his countrymen; while Admiral Parker returned

chagrined and disgusted. He indeed received the approbation and
was honored with a visit from the King and an invitation to dine with
him on board the royal yacht; but he refused the honor of knighthood
His Majesty was about to confer on him, complained heavily that he
had not been properly supported, and attributed the escape of any
part of the Dutch fleet to the negligence of the Admiralty.

Notwithstanding the renown of the British navy, the nation had little to
boast from the termination of several marine adventures, through the
course of the present year. Their fleets had fallen under some
disappointments and disasters, which heightened the clamor against
the admiralty officers, and increased the discontent of the nation.

Commodore Johnstone, with a handsome squadron, had been

ordered to sail for and take possession of the Cape of Good Hope.
Had he succeeded, his next enterprise was designed to surprise
Buenos Ayres, and sweep the Spanish settlements from Rio de la
Plata, in South America. But he was attacked by Monsieur de
Suffrein, who intercepted him near Cape de Verde Islands. Johnstone
was found rather in an unguarded situation. A considerable number of
the officers and men were on shore at the Island of St. Jago, in
pursuit of health and pleasure, and many of the crews of all the ships
were absent, employed either in hunting, fishing, or plundering cattle
from the islands.

Signals for repairing on board were made, and an action immediately

ensured, but it did not redound to the honor of the British
commander. After suffering much in the engagement, and his original
design totally defeated, he returned homewards, with the small
reparation of his ill fortune by the capture of a few Dutch East India
ships, which were at anchor in the Bay of Soldana.

The brave Admiral Kempenfelt was not much more fortunate in an

interview with the French fleet which he met with in the winter 1781.
This squadron, commanded by Monsieur Guichen, was unexpectedly
to him so much superior to his own that Admiral Kempenfelt did not
think it prudent to engage. He, however, captured a number of
transports laden with all the implements of war, and upwards of 1000
French soldiers and sailors, designed for the West Indies.

Success so inadequate to expectation was the occasion of much

uneasiness and censure in the nation. The First Lord of the Admiralty
was charged with negligence and incapacity, in conducting the
maritime affairs of England. The magnitude of the object, and the
strength of the combined foes of Great Britain required the first
abilities, penetration, and industry; neither of which adorned the
character of Lord Sandwich, the First Minister in the Naval
department. But the great Admiral Kempenfelt lived but a short space
after his late disappointment, either to reap the applauses or to fear
the censures that arose from the fortuitous or natural events of time.

His ship, the Royal George, of 118 guns, required a slight repair
before he proceeded, as was designed, to join the fleet before
Gibraltar. For this purpose, the ship a little on the careen, the
weather fine, and no danger to be apprehended, a great crowd of
persons of both sexes were on board to visit and take leave of their
husbands, brothers, and friends, when a sudden, small gust of wind
struck the ship, and carried her instantly down.

In this unfortunate moment, perished near 1000 persons, among

whom was the respected admiral himself, who had scarcely time to
rise from his writing desk after the alarm, before he met his watery
grave. [Annual Register.]

A few of the guards and most of the men who happened to be on the
upper deck were picked up by boats and saved from sharing the
melancholy catastrophe of their associates.

No man could have been more justly and universally lamented than
Admiral Kempenfelt. Far advanced in years, he had retained a
character unimpeached in his professional line, nor was he less
meritorious in his deportment in private life.

The various naval rencounters among the contending powers were

too diffuse for the present design, which is meant only as a sketch of
a few of the most important events, in order to give a general idea of
the sources of censure or applause bestowed on the principal actors.
It may also elucidate the causes of that weight of opprobrium which
fell on the Admiralty Department in England, at the close of the war.
The bravery of many of the British naval commanders was signalized
though existing circumstances so frequently combined to render
abortive their valorous exertions.

Amid the many enterprises of this busy period among the nations, it
would not be just to pass over the year without recollecting the honor
due to a young hero who perished in the gallant defense of the island
of Jersey.

The unsuccessful attempt made to reduce the place by a number of

troops commanded by the Baron de Rullincort, in the year 1780, did
not discourage a second enterprise. This first attempt was finally
defeated by relief from Admiral Arbuthnot, who was then on his way
to America. He had thought proper to stop and lend his assistance to
prevent the impending fate of the island. It is true he saved it from
falling into the hands of the French at that time, but a very heavy
balance of disadvantage was felt in consequence of this delay. The
very large reinforcement and the prodigious number of transports and
merchantmen under his convoy, thus retarded, operated among other
causes to prevent timely succors to Lord Cornwallis, of which he
stood in the utmost necessity in Virginia.

On January 6, 1781, the Baron de Rullincort made a second effort to

recover the island of Jersey. The design was so secret and the attack
so sudden that the out-guards were surprised, and the avenues to the
town of St. Helena seized, while the inhabitants lay in perfect
security. In the morning of the 7th, in the utmost dismay, they found
themselves in the hands of their enemies.

Major Corbet, the lieutenant governor, received the first intelligence

that the French troops were in possession of the town, from his own
servant, before he had risen from his bed. He was in a few minutes
after surrounded and taken prisoner; and by the peremptory demand
of the Baron de Rullincort, he was so far intimidated as to sign a
capitulation in behalf of the town, and issued orders that his officers
on the their stations should do the same.

A few of them obeyed; but Captain Pierson, a brave young officer of

only 25 years of age, assembled the militia of the island, and with a
party of British troops withdrew to the neighboring heights, on which
the French commander, agreeably to the articles of capitulation,
summoned him to surrender. Instead of a compliance, he, with the
utmost intrepidity, advertised the Baron de Rullincort, that unless he
and his troops laid down their arms and surrendered within 24
minutes, he should attack them in their post.
At the expiration of this short time, Captain Pierson, agreeably to his
threat, proceeded to the desperate enterprise. This was done with
such vigor and success that the French were driven to a decided
action. The Baron de Rullincort was morally wounded; and within half
an hour from the commencement of the engagement, the French
troops were totally routed, and Major Corbet, who was kept as a
forlorn hope by the side of their commander until Rullincort fell, was
urged by the French troops to resume his command and permit them
to surrender as prisoners of war.

But the valiant Pierson did not live to enjoy the fruits of this splendid
action, or applauses of his country. He was unfortunately shot
through the head, almost at the moment victory declared in his favor.
The death of this brave young office, who a so early a period had
exhibited such proofs of military genius and capacity, was greatly an
justly lamented. On the other hand, the passive Corbet was tried by
court martial censured, and dismissed from further service. While
engravings of the action and the portraits of Captain Pierson were
displayed through the nation, accompanied with the highest
encomium on his valor and merit.

It has been observed that Spaniards had never relinquished their

design of subduing the strong fortress of Gibraltar, though obliged the
last year to suspend it for a time. The reduction of Minorca previous
to their progress against Gibraltar, was by the Spaniards deemed an
object of high importance. The island was invested by an armament
under the command of the Duke of Crillon, in August 1781; but the
conquest was not completed until February 4, 1782.

Many circumstances peculiarly affecting accompanied the siege and

surrender of Fort St. Philip. Shut up by a large armament, surrounded
by a heavy train of artillery, commanded by the most able and
experienced officers, the garrison was totally unable to make any
effectual resistance. They were reduced by an inveterate scurvy that
had long prevailed, infested with a pestilential fever, dysentery, and
other disorders, without medicine for the sick or food for the healthy:
no extreme of misery could exceed theirs before they yielded to the
arms of Spain.

Yet, in this condition of wretchedness they displayed every mark of

valor and fortitude, until the combined circumstances of distress
obliged the remnant of British troops, reduced to about 600, old,
worn-out, emaciated skeletons, to lay down their arms. This they did
with tears of regret and with an exclamation extorted by the

pride of valor that they "submitted to God alone."

Their appearance and their behavior equally excited the sympathy of

the conqueror, and even drew involuntary tears from the victorious
soldiers amid the glory of success. The most compassionate
attention was shown to those aged and unfortunate veterans who had
been 11 years in garrison, by the noble Crillon, who directed
everything necessary to be provided for the relief of the sick and
ample supplies of prison and clothing were furnished by him, for the
naked troops who still retained a degree of health.

We now leave events of less observation and notoriety to pursue the

termination of the interesting siege of Gibraltar. In the beginning of
the autumn of the present year, all the powers of invention were
called forth to bring into action the most ingenious and fatal means of
destruction; and the most glorious display of European valor was
exhibited before the impregnable fortress of Gibraltar, that perhaps
any age had beheld.

Battering ships of formidable size, and fireworks of the most curious

construction awakened the attention in all. The fierce sons of
Ishmael, whose hands are against every man, and every man's hand
against them, at this time held their work of carnage among the
tributary nations near their own coasts. [It may be properly asked,
whenever the mind adverts to the situation and circumstances of the
Barbary states, how long the European world will submit to their
lawless depredations? It is a strange phenomenon in human affairs
that the nations should so long have been kept in awe by their
corsairs, and be compelled from time to time to purchase a temporary
peace, by becoming tributary to a people so much inferior to
themselves in manners, in arts, in arms, and in everything that
aggrandizes the powers of the earth.] As they took no part in the
conflict, the barbarian shores of Africa were covered with spectators,
to view the frightful engines and the awful play of the artillery of
death.

The Duke of Crillon was vested with the chief command of the mighty
armament destined for the reduction of this proud fortress that
thundered defiance to all the neighboring nations. Minorca reduced,
and some other impediments surmounted, the Duke, in conjunction
with some of the first naval commanders in Europe, opened the
formidable onset about September 10. He was an officer equally
distinguished for his politeness and his bravery. The last was
conspicuously displayed from the beginning to the termination of this
awful enterprise; and a signal instance of the first appeared when he
sent a supply of vegetables and other delicacies for the table of
General Elliot, while the garrison was almost without the smallest
means of subsistence.

This present was accompanied with the highest expressions of

personal regards for the British commander. The Duke de Crillon
assured him, "that he cherished a hope of meriting and meeting his
future friendship, after he had learned to make himself worthy of that
honor by facing him as an enemy." General Elliot replied with equal
gallantry that however he felt himself obliged by those tenders of
politeness and generosity, yet as long as his brave troops suffered
and patiently endured a scarcity of provisions, he should accept
nothing for himself; that as he was determined to participate in
common with the lowest of his fellow soldiers, every hardship they
might suffer, he must of consequence be excused from the
acceptance of any future favor.

The Count de Artois, a brother of the King, and many other princes of
the blood of France and the royal house of Spain, were in the action
before Gibraltar; an action that surpassed the descriptive pen of the
historian or the poet, to do ample justice to the display of military skill
in both parties, to the magnificence of design, the intrepidity of
execution, the grandeur of the scene, and the valor and magnanimity
of both officers and soldiers.

6000 canon shot, and upwards of 1000 shells were discharged on one
side every 24 hours; while an equal scale of vigor was kept up by the
unceasing blaze of the other, until several of the best ships of the
assailants were blown up, others enwrapped in a torrent of fire and
reduced to such a scene of misery and distress as excited not only
the pity, but the boldest exertions of the valiant English in several
instances, to snatch their enemies from destruction and death.

The intrepid Captain Curtis at the head of a brigade of marines, and at

the hazard of his own life and the lives of his associates, dragged
many men on the point of perishing from the burning ships of the
combined fleet.

The Spanish Admiral don Marino abandoned his ship but the moment
before she was blown up. A number of ships, both of France and
Spain were reduced to the same distressed condition. A severe
storm increased the catastrophe of the navy; but every
compassionate mind will be willing to abridge a particular detail of
such a period of horror; a period which portrayed images that seem to
require a solemn pause, rather than a further dilation on the
wretchedness of so many of our fellow-mortals.

Lord Howe's arrival, toward the termination of this tremendous scene,

with a force sufficient for the entire relief of the besieged, completely
defeated the hopes of the the House of Bourbon, of obtaining the
long contemplated object. Thus this strong fortress, of which the
English had been in possession from t he Treaty of Utrecht in 1731,
was again left to the triumph of the British nation. Its impregnable
strength had often defied the hostilities and as now likely to continue
the envy of the neighboring nations.

The memory of Elliot and Boyde, the two principal officers who
sustained this long and perilous siege, will be immortalized. They,
with unexampled fortitude, endured the miseries of fatigue and
famine, until worn down by the first and on the point of perishing by
the last. With skill, bravery, and resolution, unparalleled in modern
story, they drove back the formidable invaders, blasted the
expectations of their enemies, and obtained the most signal victory,
when all Europe had denounced the fall of Gibraltar.

It was about the middle of October when Lord Howe arrived, with
everything necessary for the relief of the distressed garrison. This
extinguished all remains of hope that might have been indulged in the
breasts of some individuals among the commanders of the combined
fleet, already too much wounded an shattered for exertions of any
kind. It is true a feint was made for an engagement with the British
fleet, by don de Cordova on the part of Spain and Monsieur de
Guichen the French admiral; but they soon discovered themselves
willing to retire, without any decisive operations. The greatest part of
the squadron took the first favorable opportunity to sheer off, and
repaired with all possible expedition to Cadiz.

Let us now rest a little from the roar of cannon, and the dread sound
of bombardment, thunder, and death, those horrid interpreters of the
hostile dispositions of man, and listen to the milder voice of
negotiation. This often assimilates or unites nations by more rational
and humane discussions than the implements of slaughter and
destruction produce; and political altercations are frequently
terminated before decisions are announced by torrents of fire,
spouted by the invention of man, to spread frightful desolation over
his own species.

The capture of Mr. Laurens, who had been appointed to negotiate with
the Dutch provinces, and the steps taken to effect a treaty of amity
and commerce between the United States of America and the
inhabitants of the Netherlands, have already bee related; also, the
manner in which his packages were recovered by an adventurous
sailor. In this deposit as found, when presented to the British minister,
the form of a treaty of amity and commerce between the Republic of
Holland and the United States of America, containing 34 articles.
These were indeed obnoxious enough to the Court of Great Britain;
but it appeared that it had been a very deliberate business. These
articles had been examined and weighed by William Lee, esquire, a
commissioner from Congress then resident in Europe. This had been
done by the advice of Van Berkel, counselor and pensioner of the city
of Amsterdam, and some other judicious Dutchmen. Thus everything
had promised the speedy completion of treaty between the two
republics. [See copies of these papers found in Mr. Laurens's trunk in
the British Annual Register, 1780, in Journals of Congress, and many
other records.]

In consequence of this discovery, orders were sent to the British

minister resident at the Hague, which were acted upon by him with
energy and fidelity. Sir Joseph Yorke complained and memorialized to
the States-General on the nature and form of the designed treaty. He
also expatiated on the conduct of many of the principal characters in
the several united provinces and on the treacherous and dangerous
nature and tendency to Great Britain of several other papers and
letters found among Mr. Laurens's dispatches.

He repeated his complaints of the countenance and protection given

by their High Mightinesses to the piratical Paul Jones, while lying in
the Texel, and recapitulated other circumstances of their conduct
which had given offense to his nation; and intimated that he expected
within three weeks from the date of his memorial some decided
answer would be given relative to the succors reclaimed eight months
before; otherwise His Majesty would look upon their conduct as
breaking off the alliance on the part of their High Mightinesses, and
would not in future consider the United Provinces in any other light
than on a footing with other neutral powers, unprivileged by treaty.
But the minister obtained little satisfaction from the reply of their High
Mightinesses, or the deportment of the Hollanders.

The sum of their short reply was that their High Mightinesses were
very desirous to coincide with the wishes of the King of England, but
they could give no positive answer to his memorial, as it was
impossible to return an answer in the short term of three weeks.
They observed that the memorial must be deliberated upon by the
several provinces, and their resolutions waited for; that they were
persuaded His Majesty would not wish rigorously to adhere to the
afore mentioned time. They waved the business by observing further
"that their High Mightinesses might be able to conclude upon an
answer in a manner conformable to the constitution of the Republic,
in which they had no right to make any alteration; and promised to
accelerate the deliberations on that head as much as possible."

The final result, however, was that within a short time the vengeance
of Britain was denounced against the Hollanders by an explicit
declaration of war. This in some measure relieved the Batavian
provinces from the constrained attitude in which they had for some
time stood between Great Britain and the United States of America.
But no treaty of alliance, amity, and commerce was settled between
the two republics until it was effected by the negotiation of Mr. Adams,
who was appointed by Congress and repaired to the Hague
immediately after the unfortunate capture of Mr. Laurens; but the
business of his mission was not completed until the present year.

On Mr. Adams's arrival in Holland, he found everything in a happy

train for negotiation; the people well-disposed, and many of the most
distinguished characters zealous for a treaty with the American
states, without any farther delay. Perhaps no man was better qualified
to treat with the Batavians, than Mr. Adams. His manners and habits
were much more assimilated to the Dutch than to the French nation.
He rendered himself acceptable to them by associating much with the
common classes, by which he penetrated their views. Yet he made
himself acquainted with the first literary characters among the
citizens. He took lodgings at Amsterdam for several months at the
house of Mr. Dumas, a man of some mercantile interest, considerable
commercial knowledge, not acquainted with manners or letters, but
much attached to the Americans, from the general predilection of
Dutchmen in favor of republicanism.

Though this was the disposition of most of the inhabitants of the

United Provinces, yet, as has been observed, there was a party
attached to the Stadtholder, and to the measures of the British
cabinet, that hung as a dead weight on the wishes of the generality of
their countrymen, and for a time retarded the business of the
American plenipotentiary.

Vigilant himself, and urged by men of the best information in the

Batavian provinces, Mr. Adams, soon after his arrival in Holland,
presented a long memorial to the States-General. In this he sketched
some general ideas of the principles and the grounds of the
Declaration of Independence, and the unanimity with which it was
received and supported by all the thirteen united colonies in America.
[See Mr. Adams's memorial presented to the States-General 1781.]

He vindicated the American claim to independence in a very

handsome manner, and represented it as the interest of all the
powers of Europe, and more particularly of the United Provinces of
the Netherlands, to support and maintain that claim. He pointed out
the
natural and political grounds of a commercial connection between
America and Holland, reminded them of the similarity of their religious
and political principles, of their long and arduous struggles to secure
their rights, of the sufferings of their

ancestors to establish their privileges on principles which their sons

could never derelict. In short, he urged in the memorial every reason
for an alliance, with clearness, precision, and strength of argument.
He observed "that principles founded in eternal justice and the laws of
God and nature both dictated to them to cut in sunder all ties which
had connected them with Great Britain." [Memorial.]

Before Mr. Adams presented this memorial, he had been indefatigable

in his endeavors to cherish the attachment already felt by individual
characters, toward the cause of America, and to strengthen the
favorable opinion that most of the Dutch provinces had adopted
before his arrival in Holland.

He had at the request of a private gentleman, [Dr. Calkoen, an

eminent civilian of the city of Amsterdam.] given him in a series of
letters, a general idea of the situation of America before and at the
present period. He drew a portrait of her temper, her manners, her
views, and her deportment. He stated the universal alienation and
aversion to Great Britain, that prevailed throughout the United States;
their ability to endure the protraction of the war; and observed on the
small proportion of people that still adhered to the royal cause. He
gave a concise statement of the public debt, the resources and
population of America; and asserted that they could boast a multitude
of characters of equal ability to support the American cause, either in
the field or in Congress, on the supposable circumstance that any of
the officers of the one or the other should be corrupted by British gold.

In one of these letters he observed that "they considered themselves

not only contending for the purest principles of liberty, civil and
religious, but against the greatest evils that any country ever suffered;
for they knew, if they were deceived by England to break their union
among themselves and their faith with their allies, they would ever
after be in the power of England, who would bring them into the most
abject submission to the government of a Parliament the most
corrupted in the world, in which they would have no voice or
influence, at 3000 miles distance." [See letter second to Dr. Calkoen.]

In another letter to the same gentleman, he affirms, "that nothing short

of an entire alteration of sentiment in the whole body of the people
can make any material change in the councils or conduct of the
United States; and that Great Britain had not power or art enough to
change essentially, the temper, the feelings, and the opinions of
between 3 million and 4 million people, at 3000 miles distance,
supported as they are by powerful allies; that the people in America
were too enlightened to be deceived in any great plan of policy. They
understood the principles and nature of government too well to be
imposed on any proposals short of their object." [Their object then
was a free, independent republic, without any approximation to regal
authority, or monarchic usages. There was then no sighing for rank,
titles, and the expensive trappings of nobility.]

These letters were published and put into the hands of influential
characters and had a powerful effect on the liberal minds of the
Batavians, already pre-disposed to union and friendship with the
Americans. No ready reply was made by the States-

General to the judicious memorial presented by Mr. Adams. In

consequence of this delay, petitions, remonstrances, and addresses
were presented to their High Mightinesses from all the Dutch
provinces. In these, they urged both the propriety and the policy of
receiving a public minister in due form, from the United states of
America.

The deputies to the States-General were everywhere instructed to

concur in the measure of receiving Mr. Adams as ambassador from
the American Congress, without farther deliberation. they insisted
that his letters of credence should be received, an that negotiations
should be immediately entered on, between him and the high
authorities of the United Provinces. Yet, still the business lagged
heavily. The intrigues of the Duke of Brunswick, the favorite and
prime counselor of the Stadtholder, and the influence of the British
minister were for a time an overbalance for the energy of republican
resolves or entreaties.

This occasioned great dissatisfaction. A general murmur was heard

through the several departments in the Dutch provinces. The
measures of the court, and the Duke of Brunswick as the adviser,
were attacked from the presses; his dismissal as field marshal was
urged; and his retirement from Holland insisted on. To him, in
conjunction with the designs of England and the subservience of the
Stadtholder to the cabinet of Britain as attributed the derangement of
their marine, and the mismanagement of all their public affairs.

Previous to this, in the Assembly of the States of Guelderland, in

November, 1781, Robert Jasper Van de Capellen, in a very spirited
speech, enforced with much precision, the necessity of opposing the
measures which had created a general discordance through all the
provinces of Holland.

He observed, "that a mean condescension, a fawning compliance with

the measures of England ought no longer to prevent us from
acknowledging the independence of a republic, which after our own
glorious example, has acquired its freedom by arms, and is daily
striving to shake off entirely the galling yoke of our common enemy."
He said it was his opinion, that a treaty of amity between the two
republics had been already too long held in suspense, and that it was
injuring both nations for their High Mightinesses to postpone the
reception of the American minister, or keep back the negotiation.

This was the general spirit of the most distinguished members of the
provinces, while Mr. Adams still persevered in every prudent measure
to facilitate the object of his mission. He was everywhere cordially
received as an American, respected as a republican, and considered
in the light of an ambassador from a new and great nation.

Mr. Adams was not, indeed, honored with a reply to his first memorial,
but he was too zealous in the cause of his country to submit long to
such an evasive step. Determined to bring on a speedy decision, a
short time only elapsed before the American minister, without waiting
for a replication to his first, presented a second address to the States-
General. In this, he referred them to his former memorial and
demanded a categorical answer that he might be able to transmit to
the authority under which he acted an account of his negotiation.
[See Mr. Adams's address presented to Van der Sandheuvel,
president of the States-General, January 9, 1782.]

This second memorial was more effective in promoting the wishes of

the friends of America than any previous step. We have already
seen, from a variety of circumstances, that such was the desire, not
only of the mercantile, but of most of the distinguished and patriotic
characters in Holland, to enter into a close alliance with the American
states, that it could not longer be postponed, without throwing the
United Provinces into distraction and confusion that could not easily
have been accommodated. The resolute and undaunted deportment
of Mr. Adams, concurring with their dispositions, and with the interests
and views of the United Netherlands, at last accomplished the object
of his mission, entirely on his own, and to the satisfaction of both
republics, though it had been impede by Great Britain, and not
encouraged by any other power in Europe.

On April 22, 1782, Mr. Adams was admitted to the Hague, and with the
usual ceremonies on such occasions, received as a minister
plenipotentiary from the United States of America.

Articles of alliance and a treaty of amity were signed by both parties,

and a loan of money was soon offered by the Dutch, and accepted by
Mr. Adams for the use of the United states. This treaty of alliance and
friendship between the sister republics of Holland and America was
the subject of much triumph to the latter, and not less to the minister
who finished the negotiation. Every expression of satisfaction and joy
appeared in all classes of inhabitants through the Batavian provinces,
on the confirmation of their union and alliance with a sister republic.

The treaty between their High Mightinesses the States-General and

the United States of America contained 29 articles. They were in
substance, first that there should be a firm, indissoluble, and general
peace between the United Provinces of the Netherlands and the
United States of America, and the citizens, inhabitants of their
respective states. The second and third articles stipulated mutually
the duties to be paid and the freedom of trade and navigation, without
interruption by either nation, to whatever part of the universe their
trade might be extended.

The fourth article was principally relative to the rights of commerce,

the enjoyment of their own religion, and the rites of decent sepulture
to persons who might die in the territories of their allies. A number of
other articles were inserted which discovered, even in their treaties,
the peculiar taste, genius, and apprehensions of republicans. They
were in language and expression, in several instances, very different
from the usual style and manner observed between monarchic
powers, more tenacious of the obedience of their subjects, while
living, than attentive to the preservation of their lives or to the decent
deposit of their ashes, when dead.

The other articles contained in this treaty, principally related to

commercial intercourse between the contending powers. These were
of great importance to the Dutch, whose energies were remarkable
as a trading nation; nor were they of less consideration to the
Americans, whose advantages promised that they might become one
of the first commercial powers in the world.
The British minister, Sir Joseph Yorke, sent on for the purpose, still
zealously endeavored, as he had done before, to shake the
engagements of the Republic of Holland, and draw them off from the
interests of the American states. Though the Court of Great Britain
had been irritated until they had proceeded too the most vigorous and
severe measures against the Dutch, yet on the successes of America,
and the prospect of new acquisitions of strength and dignity from
foreign alliances, they had condescended so far, as to permit their
minister to make proposals of a separate

peace with the Untied States of Holland.

These overtures for a separate peace, which England had recently

made, might probably quicken the measures of the Unite States of
Holland, and hasten the completion of the wishes of the Americans.
They were rejected with disdain by the honest republicans; and at this
period of amity between the tow republics, the American minister
boasted in a letter to the author that he "should look down with
pleasure from the other world, on the American flag-staff planted in
Holland."

The exultation and joy exhibited in the Batavian provinces, on signing

the treaty between the two republics, was more than usually
animated, and rose to an exhilaration of spirits seldom discovered in
such a phlegmatic nation. Among many other instances of the
general approbation of the measure, a society of citizens established
at Leon Warden, under the motto Liberty and Zeal, presented a medal
to the States of Friesland, as the first public body that had explicitly
proposed a connection and alliance with the American states.

No people on earth were more passionately enamored with liberty, or

more obstinate in the defense of freedom than the inhabitants of
Friesland. This is known from their ancient history. They enjoyed
their liberty and retained a greater degree of independence than their
neighbors, through a long course of years, even from Drufus to
Charlemagne, and from Charlemagne down to the present time. [See
Universal History.] They have always been distinguished for their free,
independent spirit; for their valor, magnanimity, and bold defense of
the liberties of their province.

Though a general uneasiness had long prevailed through every part of

Holland, the deputies of Friesland had been more explicit than any of
he provinces with regard to the pernicious influence of the Duke of
Brunswick. They had strongly expressed their discontent in general
with respect to public measures and particularly with those relative to
the navy department. They had written to the Stadtholder and
strongly expressed the universal distrust and discontent, respecting
the manner in which the affairs of the nation had been conducted,
and the consequences they apprehended, which could not fail to be
highly prejudicial to public tranquility. They attributed these disorders
to the mal-administration of the Duke of Brunswick, requested that he
might no longer be permitted to continue either s an actor of adviser
in the affairs of Holland, but that his Serene Highness the Stadtholder
would cause him to be removed from court immediately.

This, however, was not done, nor was there any reason to suppose,
notwithstanding he had acceded thereto that the Stadtholder and
such as were attached to his family interest and to the schemes and
projects of the Duke of Brunswick, were well pleased with the alliance
between the United States of America and the Batavian provinces.
Subsequent transactions evinced this to be the conviction of
everyone. But notwithstanding the secret chagrin which might
pervade his or the mind of any other individual, the great body of a
nation, that had for near a century discovered an enthusiastic
attachment to liberty, and who had surmounted inexpressible
sufferings to maintain it, did not suppress the most lively
demonstrations of general satisfaction on the happy event.

The medal above mentioned, presented by the Society of Leon

Warden to the State of Friesland, was expressive of the general
sentiment of the nation, as well as of their own alienation from
England and their attachment to America. On one side of it,
dedicated by the Society of Liberty and Zeal, was represented a
Frisian, dressed according to their ancient characteristic custom,
holding out his right hand to a North American, in token of friendship
and brotherly love, while with the left he rejects a separate peace
which England offers him.

There had been dissensions in Holland, which had existed a number

of years previous to the present period. The people had been divided
between an aristocratic and a republican party; the one influenced by
their attachment to the Stadtholder, the other had operated with the
interests of France. In the midst of the animosities occasioned by the
dissensions of these two parties, a third arose of a still more important
nature, which embraced a system more free than had yet existed in
the Republic of Holland.

This gave rise to the observations in a work of celebrity that "Animated

by the example of North America and by that spirit of liberty and
independence which has lately diffused itself in the world, in favor of
democracy, the language of pure republicanism has been held by its
citizens. They have publicly talked of choosing delegates and
asserting the rights of nature. Their merchants an manufacturers
have taken to the use of arms, and are daily improving themselves in
military discipline. To judge from the auspicious contagion that has
been caught from the revolution in America, we should be almost
ready to say -- One more such revolution would give freedom to the
world!"

The prevalence of this spirit in the Batavian provinces rendered the

work of negotiation less arduous for the American ambassador. Yet
while in Holland, Mr. Adams was in no point deficient in vigilance, nor
did he neglect to fan the republican zeal by every argument in favor
of civil liberty, of the equal rights of man, and of a republican form of
government, during his residence in the Low Countries.

His satisfaction at the successful termination of his mission was

evinced both in this public conduct and in the private effusions of his
pen. In his diplomatic character, Mr. Adams had never enjoyed
himself so well, as while residing in Dutch Republic. Regular in his
morals, and reserved in his temper, he appeared rather gloomy in a
circle; but he was sensible, shrewd, and sarcastic among private
friends. His genius was not altogether calculated for a court life, amid
the conviviality and gaiety of Parisian taste. In France, he was never
happy; not beloved by his venerable colleague, Doctor Franklin;
thwarted by the minister, the Count de Vergennes, and ridiculed by
the fashionable and polite, as deficient in the je ne sais quoi, so
necessary in highly polished society; viewed with jealousy by the
Court, and hated by courtiers, for the perseverance, frigidity, and
warmth blended in his deportment. He there did little of consequence,
until the important period when, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin and
Mr. Jay, a treaty of peace was negotiated between Great Britain and
the United States of America.

Soon after the present period, Mr. Adams was summoned from the
Hague by order of the American Congress, directed to repair to Paris,
and assist in the important work of negotiating a peace between
Great Britain and her former colonies, now a confederated and
independent nation. In this business, he acquitted himself with equal
firmness and equally to the satisfaction and approbation of his
country, as he had before done in Holland. His reputation was
enhanced among his countrymen, and his popularity kept up for a
number of years after the honorable part he had acted as a
diplomatic character, in his treaty with Holland and as a firm and
zealous friend to the interests of his country through the negotiations
for peace with his colleagues in France.

The loan of money obtained from Holland by the address of Mr.

Adams was a great relief to the United States. This was at a crisis
when their resources were drained by a long expensive war, and a
paper substitute for specie had ceased to be of any farther utility. He
had so handsomely anticipated the future resources of America, and
contrasted the immense public debt of Great Britain with the
comparatively small expenditures for national purposes in America,
that not only the Dutch government conceded willingly to the propriety
of assisting the United States, by the advance of moneys, but the
affluent merchants, and others in possession of vast private property
in that rich commercial country, offered, with the utmost alacrity, some
handsome loans to assist and facilitate the freedom and growth of a
young sister republic, from whom they expected to derive the greatest
commercial advantages when the war should cease and her
independence was universally acknowledged.

Mr. Adams's opinion at this early period seemed to favor the idea that
America would be capable of bearing taxes to an immense amount in
future, though this was a burden of which they had had comparatively
little experience. He observed that "the people in America had not yet
been disciplined to such enormous taxation as in England, but that
they were capable of bearing as great taxes in proportion as the
English; and if the English force them to it by continuing the war, they
will reconcile themselves to it."

But it might have been observed that it would require a great number
of years, and many contingent events to reconcile the inhabitants of
the United States to the taxing of houses, lands, hearths, window-
lights, and all the conveniences of life, as in England. Not the
necessity of extricating themselves from old foreign debts, or newly
contacted expenses for exigencies or projects, which they considered
unnecessary in a republican government, could suddenly lead a
people generally to acquiesce in measures to which they had
heretofore been strangers. The artificial creation of expenses by
those who deem a public debt a public blessing will easily suggest
plausible pretenses for taxation, until every class is burdened to the
utmost stretch of forbearance, and the great body of the people
reduced to penury and slavery.
It does not always redound to the benefit of younger states and less
affluent nations to become indebted to foreigners for large sums of
money; but without this assistance from several of the European
powers, it would have been impossible for the United States, under
their complicated inconveniences and embarrassments, to have
resisted so long the opulent and powerful nation of Britain. America
was necessitated to borrow money abroad to support her credit at
home; and had not the Dutch loan been obtained, it is impossible to
calculate what would have been the consequences to the United
States, who had not, at this period, even the weak support of an
artificial medium, while their armies were unpaid, and their soldiers on
the point of mutiny, for the want of immediate subsistence. His
countrymen thought themselves highly indebted to Mr. Adams, for
procuring this timely supply of cash, as well as for so ably negotiating
a treaty of amity and commerce. It gave a new spring to all their
exertions, which had for some time lagged heavily, for want of the
necessary sinews for the protraction of war, or for enterprise in any
other lien of business.

_______________

Chapter Twenty-Six: General uneasiness with ministerial measures in

England,

Scotland, and Ireland. Loud complaints against the Board of

Admiralty. Sir Hyde Parker resigns his commission. Motion for an
address for peace by General Conway. Resignation of Lord George
Germaine. Created a peer of the realm. Lord North resigns.

Some traits of his character. Petition of the city of London for peace.
Coalition of parties. A new ministry. Death and character of the
Marquis of Rockingham. Lord Shelburne's administration.
Negotiations for peace. Provisional articles signed. Temper of the
loyalists. Execution of Captain Huddy. Consequent imprisonment of
Captain Asgill. Asgill's release.

While new alliances were negotiating between the Americans and

several European powers, and the importance of the United States
was appreciating in the scale of nations, the councils of Britain were
confused, and the Parliament and the nation split into parties.

The American war was become very unpopular in England, and

discontents prevailed in all parts of the Empire. Many of the favorites
of the present reign had been taken from beyond the wall of Hadrian,
[No national reflection is here designed. It is very immaterial, as
observed by the great Lord Chatham, whether a man was rocked in
his cradle on one side of the Tweed or the other. The writer of these
pages has the highest respect for the distinguished literary characters
that adorn the Scotch nation. Their strength of genius, and profound
investigations in philosophic, political, theological, and historic
compositions are at least on an equal scale of ability with any of the
learned luminaries of the law or any other science nearer the splendid
beams of monarchy; and when called to distinguished office, they
have, perhaps, with some few exceptions, discharged their public
functions with equal honor, capacity, and integrity.] yet there was a
growing dissatisfaction with all the measures of administration, and a
prevailing discontent and uneasiness through the Scotch nation; but
this was owing more to some religious dissensions, than from any
liberal or enlarged views of political liberty, among the class of people
loudest in complaint.

Yet much less as to be apprehended from the discontents in Scotland

than from those of the oppressed Irish, driven nearly to the point of
revolt. They had long and justly murmured at the high-handed
measures of the Parliament of England, and the degraded and
inferior rank in which they were viewed at the Court of St. James.
The late restrictions on their commerce, a recent embargo for three
years on their staple export, the inhibitions, the disqualifications, and
frequent severe penalties load on the great body of the Roman
Catholic inhabitants, with a long list of other grievances that might be
enumerated, they considered as marks of national contempt, and a
sacrifice of the interest of Ireland to favor the avarice of British
contractors, speculators, and pensioners. they were sensible that no
means were neglected to rivet the chains in which they were held by
the prejudices of Englishmen, with regard to their commerce, their
police, and their religious opinions.

Their resentment did not evaporate in unmeaning and inactive

complaint. They entered into combinations against the use and
purchase of British manufactures, and prohibited their importation into
Ireland, under very heavy penalties. Measures for defense, and
military associations were everywhere adopted. This they justified
from the apprehension of foreign invasion, and the extraordinary
weakness of the state, in consequence of drawing off the troops for
active service in America, which had usually been stationed in Ireland
for the defense of that kingdom.

The Irish volunteers who assembled in arms on this occasion soon

amounted to near 60,000 men, and daily increased in number and
strength. These were not composed merely of the middling or lower
classes of people. Men of fortune and character were seen in the
ranks, and even many of the nobility appeared to encourage these
associations.

This armament was very alarming to Great Britain, but it could not be
suppressed. The inhabitants of Ireland were bold and undaunted;
and, encouraged by the example of America, they strenuously
supported their rights, and made use of the same arguments against
a standing army in time of peace, which had been urged in the
assemblies and congresses of the colonies. they resolutely refused to
submit longer to such unconstitutional and dangerous measures,
resisted the Mutiny Act, denied its validity, and opposed and
prevented the magistrates in making provision for the remnant of the
King's troops still left in the country.

One of their patriots [Mr. Gattan.] of mane and ability, asserted that the
act was dangerous and unconstitutional; that "the Mutiny Bill or
martial law methodized, was not only different from, but directly
opposite to the common law of the land. It set aside trial by jury,
departed from her principles of evidence, declined her ordinary
tribunals of justice, and in their place established a summary
proceeding, arbitrary

crimes, arbitrary punishments, a secret sentence, and a sudden

execution."

The determinations of the Irish to recover their freedom, and maintain

their native rights, were represented in the most eloquent strains of
rhetoric. The strong and pointed language was dictated by the heart,
approved by the judgment and expressed in the periods of the best
orators. The names of many well-informed Irish gentlemen were
distinguished, and will be handed down on the conspicuous list, both
for the brilliancy of their epithets and their strength of reasoning.
Among these, the celebrated Mr. Grattan was marked for his superior
eloquence, learning, patriotism, an other virtues. The talents of Mr.
Flood and others were called forth; an by the energies an exertions of
those patriotic leaders, they obtained some amelioration of the
burdens complained of. Thus by the decided spirit of many eminent
characters in the nation, the British Parliament was induced to take
some steps that produced a temporary quiet in Ireland. More lenity
was shown toward the Roman Catholics, and some other small
indulgences granted, but nothing sufficient to restore lasting
tranquility to the country.

While the sister kingdoms were thus restless and dissatisfied, a

general uneasiness discovered itself throughout England, on the
disappointment of their naval operations. After the affair on the
Dogger Bank, Sir Hyde Parker thought he had been so far
unsupported that his honor impelled him to resign. The neglect of
proper support to the worthy Kempenfelt and other brave naval
commanders was highly censured throughout the kingdom.

Mr. Fox brought a number of direct and explicit charges against the
Board of Admiralty; first, in suffering the Count de Grasse to sail to
the West Indies without an effort to intercept him; secondly, the loss
of the St. Eustatia convoy, when nearly 60 sail of British ships, with
much property and many prisoners, were sent into Cadiz by don
Lewis de Cordova, who commanded the combined fleet of France and
Spain at the time.

The engagement with Admiral Zeutman, the failure of Admiral

Kempenfelt to cut off the Count de Guichen, and several other
disappointments in the naval line were all attributed to the same
cause: negligence and incapacity in the First Lord of the Admiralty.
An address to the King was proposed that the Earl of Sandwich
should be removed from His Majesty's councils forever. His character
was universally vilified in England. A writer of that country may have
delineated it more exactly than can be expected from anyone at a
distance.

He observes "that future historians may do justice to his moral

character, but that in so barren a wilderness, it would be happy if one
solitary virtue could enliven the prospect. But, as destitute of felling
as of principle, amid the copious crop of vices which overwhelmed his
whole character, not even that of cowardice was wanting, to move
contempt as well as detestation; and strange it is that though his
sentiments with regard to both natural and revealed religion were well
known, yet so timid was his nature that he never dared to be alone.

"After these general traits, we cannot wonder that he was in his

political life the decided enemy of his country, and the devoted
instrument of a corrupt cabinet. His name, indeed, was never
mentioned without exciting sentiments of contempt. If nature had
endowed him with talents, the course of dissipation in which he was
engaged must have disqualified him for their exercise. He professed
an active, but not a strong mind. Practiced in the intrigues of a Court
and habits of Parliament, he could speak with facility, but his ideas
never took an extensive range. The paltry maxims of court intrigue
finished the outlines of his character." [See History of the Reign of
George the Third by Wenderburne.]

Mr. Fox's address for the removal of the Earl of Sandwich was
supported by Lord Howe and Admiral Keppel. They censured his
mismanagement and prodigality, exposed his blunders and want of
capacity, and painted in glowing colors his misconduct and the fatal
consequences to the navy and to the nation, by his having been thus
long continued in an office of such high trust and responsibility. But he
had his friends and defenders; and after long and warm debates, the
motion for his removal was lost by a small majority.

After many desultory grounds and circumstances of uneasiness were

discussed, a motion of high importance was made in the house by
General Conway. This was for an address to the King, requesting him
to put an immediate period to the destructive war in America. This
motion was lost only by a single vote -- 193 were in favor, and 194
against it. But the object of peace was not relinquished. The address
was again brought forward, and finally carried.

After various expedients had been proposed, which were reprobated

in strong terms, Lord Cavendish moved that the House should
resolve that the enormous expenses of the nation, the loss of the
colonies, a war with France, Spain, Holland, and America, without a
single ally, was occasioned by a want of foresight and ability in His
Majesty's ministers and that they were unworthy of further confidence.

In short, such a general reprobation of all former measures ensued,

and such a universal vilification of the heads of departments, and
such unlimited censure fell on ever part of their conduct, through a
seven years' war, that the old ministry found themselves on the point
of dissolution.

Lord George Germaine, who had kept his ground beyond all
expectation, through a very tempestuous season, now found himself
obliged to resign his office as Minster of the American Department.
Though rewarded for his services by peculiar tokens of His Majesty's
favor, and dignified by a peerage, he stood for a time in a most
humiliating predicament. Several of the House of Lords thought the
nation disgraced and themselves affronted by the creation of a man
to that illustrious order who had formerly been censure by a court
martial and dismissed from all employment in a military line, and who
had recently and obstinately pursued measures in the cabinet and
supported a destructive system that had brought the nation to the
brink of ruin. [The Marquis of Carmarthen stood at the head of
opposition against the promotion of Lord George Germaine.]

His promotion was also opposed in the House of Commons from the
"impolicy of rewarding in the present conjuncture of affairs a person
so deeply concerned in the American war." It was observed that it
might have a tendency to defeat the purposes of a great and solemn
inquiry in which the conduct of that noble personage might appear to
deserve the severest punishment. But supported by royal prerogative,
His Lordship retained his high rank, and enjoyed a kind of triumph in
the favor of the King, in spite of the reproaches of his enemies. Yet,
neither ribbons nor stars could erase the stigma that hung on his
character, both as a minister and a soldier.

Nor at this period could the puissant nobleman at the head of the
treasury any longer stand the torrent of reproach and complaint that
was poured out against him. On March 20, 1782, Lord North
resigned his place and declared to the House of Commons that the
present administration from that day ceased to exist.
It has been observed by a British writer of ability that "Lord North was
educated in the school of corruption; naturally of an easy, pliant
temper; that the disposition was increased by the maxims he had
imbibed. He was rather a man of wit, than consummate abilities;
ready and adroit, rather than wise and sagacious He considered the
faculty of parrying the strokes leveled at him in the House of
Commons as the first qualification of a minister. Under his
administration, a regular system of pension and contract was
adopted, more pernicious than the casual expedients of Walpole to
facilitate his measures." [See a view of the reign of George

III. Another British writer has thus sketched the character of Lord
North: "It must be remarked that a certain confusion and
indistinctness of ideas unfortunately pervaded his general system of
thinking. He seemed habitually to aim at the thing that was right, but
invariably stopped short of the true and genuine standard of political
propriety. With the reputation of meaning well, he acquired the
imputation of indecision and instability. The general tenor of his
administration must certainly be allowed to exhibit very few
indications of energy, wisdom, or force of penetration. But
occasionally capable of resolute and persevering exertions, his
temper

was mild, equable, and pleasant, although his notions of government

evidently appeared of the high Tory cast." Belsham.]

However he might merit the severities contained in the several

sketches of his character, His Lordship quit his station with as much
firmness, address, and dignity as any man of understanding and
political abilities possibly could have done, who had stood at the head
of administration during an unfortunate war that continued near seven
years. At the same time, what had greatly enhanced his difficulties
and his responsibility, all the other powers in Europe were either in
alliance with America, or stood by as unconcerned spectators of a
combat which augured a train of most important events to the
political, civil, and religious state of Christendom, if not to the world.

His Lordship declared that he did not mean to shrink from trial; that he
should always be prepared to meet it; that a successor might be
found of better judgment and better qualified for the high and arduous
station; but none more zealously attached to the interest of his
country, and the preservation of the British constitution than himself.

It is indeed easy to believe that His Lordship was willing to retire, and
happy to quit the helm of state which he had held with such an
unsuccessful hand. He had sent out his mandates and proclaimed his
recisions until the thirteen United States of America were irretrievably
lost to Great Britain; until Minorca was capture by the Spaniards...
Dominica, St. Vincent's, Tobago, Granada, and other islands in the
West Indies by the French; and until two British armies, commanded
by some of the most distinguished officers in the nation, were
prisoners in the American states.

Thus after the blood of thousands of the best soldiers in England, of

the best officers in the nation had been sacrificed, and multitude of
Americans, formerly the best subjects to the Crown of Britain, had
been immolated on the altar of ambition, avarice, or revenge; after
the nation was involved in expenses beyond calculation, her trade
ruined, and the national character disgraced by the iniquitous
principles of the war; it is not strange that the Parliament was
agitated, the ministry dismayed, and the people thrown into
consternation and disgust. The murmur was universal, the public
councils were divided, and the ministry and their measures were
become the ridicule of foreign nations.

Through all the struggle between Great Britain and her colonies, not
one of the powers of Europe had declared against America; but, on
the contrary, most of them had either secretly or openly espoused her
cause. Yet it is not to be supposed that the passive demeanor of
some and the friendly deportment of others, was the result of a
general love of liberty among potent nations, or splendid courts, where
the scepter of royalty was swayed, at least in some of them, with a
very despotic hand. Their interests and their ambition were united;
and led them to anticipate and to boast the pernicious consequences
to England of this unfortunate war.

Doubtless a jealousy of the enormous power of Britain, and the proud

glory to which she had arrived in the preceding reign, operated
strongly to cherish the pacific disposition of some, and to prompt
others to lend a hostile arm to dissever the growing colonies from the
Crown and authority of Great Britain. They could not but rejoice a the
dismemberment of an Empire that had long been the dread of some
and the envy and hatred of other nations. It was too soon for them to
forget that under the wise and energetic administration of a Chatham,
the kingdoms of the earth had trembled at the power of England; that
in conjunction with the American colonies, Britannia, mounted on a
triumphal car, had bid proud defiance to all the potentates in Europe;
that the thunder of her cannon was dreaded from the eastern seas to
the western extreme; and that her flag was revered, and that her navy
gave laws from the Ganges to the Mississippi.

The insolence of this proud mistress of the seas only partially

checked, her glory shrouded, and the haughty islanders humbled...
humbled by their own injudicious and overbearing measures, was a
spectacle viewed with delight by neighboring nations, and
contemplated by France with peculiar satisfaction. Yet it was perhaps,
equally the policy and the interest of both the French and the British
prime ministers at this period to promote pacific measures. It was the
wish of both nations to be relieved from the distresses of a long and
expensive war; and the officers in the first departments were
convinced, more especially in England, that they had little other
chance to keep their places, than by a compliance with the general
will of the people.

The discontents among the inhabitants of Great Britain ran higher

than ever. Chagrined by repeated defeat and losses both by sea and
land; alarmed at the monstrous accumulation of the national debt, the
weight of taxes; the value of landed property daily sinking, and the
public burdens increasing; many gentlemen who had been sanguine
in favor of the American war seemed to awaken at once from their
lethargy and to appear sensible that ruin stare din the face of
themselves, as well as of the nation.

From the present temper that discovered itself within the House of
Commons, or from appearances without, the minority had no reason
to be discourage with regard to their favorite object, which was the
restoration of peace between Great Britain and the colonies. On
February 27, 1782, General Conway made a second motion for
addressing the Throne, and urging that the ruinous war with America
should no longer be pursued.

Fortunately, a petition from the city of London was the same day
presented, praying that a cessation of hostilities between Great
Britain and her former provinces might immediately take place. The
motion for peace was now carried in the House without much
opposition. An address was presented for that purpose to the King on
March 1. In this he was humbly implored to lend his sanction to
measures for a restoration of general harmony. His answer, though
in miler language than had of late been the fashion of the court, was
not sufficiently explicit, but it was not left open to retraction. The
prompt measures, the zeal and vigor of an opposition that had long
been in the minority, at last gained the ascendancy, and secured a
truce so much desired by a people weary of war, and so necessary
for the relief, the honor, and the restoration of character to a gallant
nation.

In order to facilitate this happy event, a proposal for conciliation was

made, that could scarcely have been expected to succeed. A
coalescence of parties where animosities had run so high, and the
minds of men had been so embittered by a series of
disappointments and unceasing irritation, was a circumstance not
within the calculation of anyone. But it was found necessary to bury
or at least to suppress, the

prejudices of party, to lay aside private resentment, and to unite in one

system for the general good. All were so convinced of this necessity
that the proposal was conceded to; and after the resignation of Lord
North, a complete change of ministry took place, composed of active
and conspicuous characters from each party; but according to a trite
saying, it proved indeed not more than a rope of sand.

Sir Welbore Ellis had been appointed Minister for the American
Department, immediately on the removal of Lord George Germaine.
But is principles and his reasonings relative to American affairs; his
general observations on the transactions of war, of the belligerent
powers, of the French nation, of the American loyalists, of the mean
of harmony, and the restoration of peace; subjected him to the satirical
strokes and the severe epithets of pointed ridicule that have always
flowed so easy from the lip of the oratorical Burke. The chastisement
also of his opinions by Mr. Fox and others, zealous for the termination
of the contest between Great Britain and her colonies showed that
the friend and pupil of Lord Sackville did not stand on very firm
ground.

Though it appeared to the world to be composed of motley materials,

yet all matters were adjusted for the establishment of a new
administration, and the nation cherished the most sanguine hopes
from the change. the Marquis of Rockingham stood at the head of
the new arrangement. No character among the nobility of Britain was
at this time held in higher estimation than his; nor was any man better
qualified for the appointment of First Lord of the Treasury as a
successor to Lord North, whose character, principles, abilities, and
perseverance have been sketched in the course of narration.
The manners of Rockingham were amiable; his temper, mild and
complacent; his rank, fortune, and personal influence, commanding;
his principles, uniform in favor of the rights of man; and is capacity,
and constant opposition to the American war rendered him a fit
person to stand in this high station of responsibility. He was well
qualified to correct the political mistakes of his predecessor, and to
retrieve the honor of the nation on the approach of negotiations for
peace. But as in human life the most important events sometimes
depend on the character of a single actor, the sudden exit of such a
character often blasts the hopes, clouds the minds, and defeats the
expectations of contemporaries.

This observation was fully verified in the premature death of the noble
Marquis, who lived only three months after his appointment to the
helm of administration. All eyes had been fixed on him as the band of
union, and the promoter and the prop of both public and private
peace; but his death, which took place on July 1, 1782, involved his
country in new difficulties and created new scenes of dissension and
animosity.

Many other departments in the new system of ministerial measures

were filled by gentlemen of the first character and consideration. Lord
John Cavendish was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer; the
Duke of Richmond, Master of the Ordnance; Grafton, Lord of the
Privy Seal; Admiral Keppel, First Lord of the Admiralty; Lord Camden,
President of the Council; General Conway, Commander in Chief of All
Forces in Great Britain; Mr. Thomas Townsend, Secretary at War;
Lord Shelburne and Mr. Fox, Principal Secretaries of State; Colonel
Barre, Treasurer of the Navy; and Mr. Burke, Paymaster of the
Troops.

On the death of the Marquis of Rockingham, Lord Shelburne, to the

surprise of his associates in the ministry, had gained such an interest
as to obtain the appointment of First Lord of the Treasury, in the room
of a favorite of the nation and of the new ministry. To the newly
coalesced administration, the unexpected advancement of Lord
Shelburne to this dignified and important station was so disgusting
that it broke the coalition. Mr. Fox and Lord Cavendish resigned their
places. This precipitant dereliction of office at such a critical period,
by gentlemen of their high consideration, was regretted by some,
severely censured by others, and was mortifying indeed to their
friends, who, though far from being pleased, continued to act with the
new Lord Treasurer.

The reasons assigned by Mr. Fox for thus quitting his place, at such a
crisis, were "that the system in which he consented to unite in the
coalition was not likely to be pursued"; that the first principle of this
system was an express acknowledgment of the independence of the
United States of America, instead of making it an article in the
provisional treaty, as proposed by some. To this unequivocal
independence of America, he knew Lord Shelburne to be opposed.

In reply to this, His Lordship rose and defended his own opinions. He
declared he was not ashamed to avow and to act upon the ideas of
the great Lord Chatham. He said it was well known that this
distinguished statesman had asserted that "the sun of England's glory
would set if independence was granted to America." He added that
he "wished himself had been deputed to Congress that he would then
have exerted all his talents to convince them that if their
independence was signed, their liberties were gone forever." He
expressly declared that it was his opinion "that the independence of
the United colonies not only threatened the extinction of their own
liberties, but the ruin of England; and that certainly by giving them
independence, they would finally be derived of that freedom they had
been struggling to secure and enjoy."

It was difficult, even at this late period to convince many of the most
intelligent gentlemen in England that independence was a gift that
America did not now ask; the boon was their own; obtained by their
own prowess and magnanimity, in conjunction with the armies of their
brave allies.

It may be proper to observe that if England should in reality feel that

the splendor of her solar rays are eclipsed by the dismemberment of
such a branch of the Empire, the amputation might not yet be fatal to
her prosperity and glory. They might yet prosper in a friendly
alliance with the colonies, if the Parliament, the nation, and their
sovereign should be in future disposed to moderation and justice, and
would show themselves sincere in promoting friendship and harmony
with an infant republic. It is true this republic had been forced into pre
mature existence; yet she held herself in all diplomatic concerns on a
footing with any other nation, and was now ready to form alliances
with them and all other foreign powers, without becoming dependent
on, or tributary to any.

Affairs were now brought to a point. There was no possibility of

oscillating longer

between peace and war. Coercion had been long enough

unsuccessfully tried. Negotiation was now the only path to be
trodden, however thorny it might appear to the pride of royalty, or to
the omnipotence of a British Parliament.

After repeated captures of the best appointed armies, composed both

of domestic and foreign troops, despair of subjugating the United
States had lowered down the spirit of the nation, and of the King of
England so far as to become willing to treat on terms for the
restoration of amity, and to speak with some degree of temper of the
total separation and independence of America.

Lord Shelburne's opinions had been so diametrically opposite to those

of the gentlemen who had seceded from the administration that they
thought themselves fully justified in withdrawing from public service,
even while the important business was in agitation, and everything
ripening for new negotiations, replete with events beyond the
calculations of the wisest statesmen and politicians. In their self
approbation, they were confirmed, when they thought they discovered
a degree of duplicity in the business. Notwithstanding Lord
Shelburne had explicitly avowed that his own wishes were of a
different nature, it appeared he had directed General Carleton and
Admiral Digby to acquaint the commander in chief of the American
army and to request him to inform Congress that the King of Great
Britain, desirous of peace, had commanded his ministers about to
negotiate, to insure the independence of the thirteen provinces,
instead of making it a condition of a general treaty. [This sentiment
had been communicated by order of the minister in a joint letter from
General Carleton and Lord Digby to General Washington, dated New
York, August 2, 1782.]

But when Mr. Oswald, who had been appointed to act as the
commissioner of peace in behalf of Great Britain, and to arrange the
provisional articles for that purpose, arrived at Paris, in the autumn of
1782, it appeared that his instructions were not sufficiently explicit.
They did not satisfy the American agents deputed by congress to
negotiate the terms of reconciliation among the contending powers.
These were Doctor Franklin, John Jay, and John Adams, esquires.
Mr. Adams was still at the Hague; but he had been directed by
Congress to repair to France, to assist his colleagues in their
negotiations for peace.

The ambiguity of Mr. Oswald's commission, occasioned much

altercation between the Count de Vergennes and Mr. Jay on the
subject of the provisional articles. their disputes were not easily
adjusted; and the Spanish minister, the Count de Aranda, rather
inclined to an acquiescence in the proposals of the British
commissioner. Mr. Jay, however, resisted with firmness; and was
supported in his opinions by Mr. Adams, who soon after arrived in
Paris. But before his arrival, Mr. Reyneval, the secretary and
confidential friend of the French minister repaired rather privately to
England. It was suspected, and not without sufficient grounds, that
this visit was decidedly intended to procure a conference with Lord
Shelburne.

It was undoubtedly the wish of both France and England to exclude

America from the right of fishing on the Banks of Newfoundland; an
advantage claimed by Americans as a right of nature, from their
continuous situation, and as their right by prescription. The American
commissioners insisted that their claims were equally just with any
exclusive pretensions either of Great Britain or France. The navigation
of the Mississippi, British debts, and the American loyalists were
matters of dissension, debate, and difficulty.

The American ministers were not disposed to relinquish any claims of

honor, equity, or interest either to the haughty demands of Great
BRitain, the intrigues of France, or even to the condescending
instructions, in some instances, of their own national Congress. This
body had, in the enthusiasm of their gratitude for the assistance lent
in their distress by France, instructed their agents to take no step of
importance without the advice and counsel of the Marquis de la
Fayette, which would have given great advantage to the French
ministry. [See Journals of Congress.]

The limits of the eastern boundaries of the United States were a

subject of dispute, thought by some of them of less consequence; but
with regard to the western territorial rights, the American
commissioners were tenacious indeed. The American territory has
been parceled out, and patented by the sovereigns of Europe, from
the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean; and by existing treaties, the United
States have no inconsiderable claim in the distribution. Their claims
were undoubtedly founded on as equitable a basis as those of Great
Britain and France. The negotiating ministers of Congress were
unwilling to relinquish any part of their claim. they supported their
independent attitude with manly dignity, nor did they yield in the
smallest degree to the encroaching spirit of Britain.
The American claims to a vast, uncultivated tract of wilderness, which
neither Great Britain, France, nor America had any right to invade
may ultimately prove a most unfortunate circumstance to the Atlantic
states, unless the primary object of the American government should
be to civilize and soften the habits of savage life. But if the lust of
domination, which takes hold of the ambitious and the powerful in all
ages and nations, should be indulged by the authority of the United
States, and those simple tribes of men, contented with the gifts of
nature that had filled their forests with game sufficient for their
subsistence, should be invaded, it will probably be a source of most
cruel warfare and bloodshed, until the extermination of the original
possessors. In such a result, the mountains and the plains will
perhaps be filled with a fierce, independent race of European and
American emigrants, too hostile to the borderers on the seas to
submit willingly to their laws and government, and perhaps too
distant, numerous, and powerful to subdue by arms. [The reader will
observe that the author of this work has been in the habit of making
appropriate observations on events as they passed and has often
hazarded conjectures on probable results. The work was written a
number of years before publication, but she did not think proper either
to erase them or alter the manner on revision. Some of those
conjectures have already taken place; others probably may, at some
subsequent period.]

It was the opinion of some of the American commissioners for

negotiating the treaty of peace that the Count de Vergennes was
opposed to the claims of the United States in every stage of the
business; not because, in equity, he thought they had no right to the
fisheries or the western lands, but from a general unfriendly
disposition to America, and a reluctance to her being declared by
Great Britain an independent nation. But it is more probable that his
cold, equivocal demeanor arose not so much from any personal
disaffection to the people or to individuals, as from a desire to hold
the Americans forever dependent on France. It was suggested by
some to be the policy of that nation to endeavor to keep the United
States, as long as possible, dependent on her aid and protection.
The political creed of Monsieur de Vergennes is said to have been
that "it was absolutely necessary to hate the English... to cajole the
Spaniards... not to hurt the Emperor... to live on good terms with
Prussia... to gain over the Dutch... to protect the Turks... to respect
Rome... to support the infant republic of America... to subsidize
Switzerland... and to inspect the conduct of the colonies."

The French were indeed generally sensible that most of the citizens of
America spurned at all ideas of a dependence on any foreign power,
after her emancipation from Britain. Yet they were jealous that many
others felt so warmly prejudiced in favor of a nation from whom they
derived their origin, that they little doubted a renewal of the
connection with, or even a dependence again on Great Britain, when
the noise of war should cease and the old habits of intercourse, so
natural from consanguinity, language, and manners, should be
reassumed. This jealousy as disseminated and these apprehensions
were expressed by gentlemen of judgment and penetration
throughout the kingdom of France, both in public and in private
circles. Indeed, it was the general opinion there that a predilection in
favor of England would supersede, in the American mind, a
connection with any other European power, as soon as recent
injuries were forgotten, and the passions of men had subsided.

Time and opportunities afterward evinced that the most liberal

sentiments toward America governed the French nation in general. It
appeared by their conduct in many subsequent transactions that
there was very little to justify the opinion that the design of the nation
was to hold the American colonies dependent on France, or even to
continue the alliance, but on terms of reciprocity and mutual
advantage.

No national contracts ever yet bound mankind so firmly as not to b

shaken when they militate with personal or national interests. Much
less does a religious observance of treaties prevent their abandoning
former obligations when the balance of advantage is likely to be
thrown into the hands of their foes.

From the jealousy of the French of the power and rivalry of the English
nation, they might rationally infer that if the old and natural connection
with the parent state

should again be revive, it would cut off the many advantages they had
promised themselves from an irreparable breach between Great
Britain and the colonies. Thus, some of the politician in France
judged this a reason sufficient for the most strenuous efforts in the
ancient, hereditary enemy of Great Britain, to hold, and, if possible, to
bind America by treaties, to conditions that might in some measure
make her dependent on themselves; at least, these were reasons of
policy. Reasons of equity, when inconsistent with interest, are seldom
to be found among statesmen and politicians deputed to transact
national affairs.

Among the many difficulties that occurred in the negotiations for

peace, the demands made in favor of the American loyalists, both by
the British and the French ministry were not the most easily
accommodated of any of the impediments thrown in the way of
conciliation. But on Mr. Oswald's receiving a new commission from
his Court, soon after the Count de Reyneval's visit to England,
negotiations went forward, all difficulties were surmounted, and
provisional articles of peace between Great Britain and America were
signed by both parties on November 30, 1782.

In the mean time, the pacific dispositions of the British cabinet were
(as observed) announced to the commanders of their armies and the
fleets in America, and. through them, to Congress and the
commander in chief of the troops of the United States. But though
the ideas of peace were congenial to their wishes, and flattering to
their hopes, they still considered that they had much to apprehend
before they could quietly sit down in the enjoyment of domestic
felicity. The Americans, on this intelligence, lost no part of their
vigilance. They thought it more than ever necessary to be guarded at
all points against the machinations and intrigues of their enemies, the
emissaries of Britain, and the rancor and violence of American
refugees and loyalists. This description of persons were how, more
than ever, embittered by the idea that England was about to be
reconciled to the colonies on their own terms -- absolute and
unconditional independence.

Their situation at the time, indeed, appeared to be hapless enough.

the corps of provincial troops that had been exposed in the service of
Britain and had risked everything during the war, expected now to be
disbanded on the peace, when both officers and privates had little to
hope from government, according to the provisional articles, and still
less from their country.

According to the stipulations of the British negotiators, the whole body

of loyalists were left unprovided for any further than by an
engagement from the American commissioners to suggest to
Congress and to urge in their behalf a recommendation to the several
legislatures of the Untied States. The purport of this recommendation
was a proposal that they would suffer such as had property to return
for a limited time to endeavor to recover or repurchase their
confiscated estates. Twelve months was the time agreed upon by the
commissioners for the residence of the Tories in their native
provinces after the ratification of peace.

Thus, abandoned by their friends, and cast on the mercy of their

country, they had little lenity to expect from their countrymen, after a
war of seven years, in which many of them had perpetrated every
treacherous and cruel deed, to facilitate the subjugation of their native
land, and to consign succeeding generations to the shackles of
foreign domination. No prospect now appeared before them, but to
decamp in hopeless poverty, and seek some unexplored asylum, far
from the pleasant borders of their natal shores.
Instigated by despair and revenge, some of this class of people had
recently given new proofs of their vindictive feelings and new
provocations to their countrymen. The most unjustifiable rigor, and
the most outrageous cruelties had been practiced on those who were
so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. The story of one hapless
victim will be a sufficient specimen of the atrocious length of villainy to
which man may be prompted by disappointment and party rage.

The Associated Board of Loyalists of New York, impatient for the

laurels they had expected to reap from the ruin of their neighbors,
their country, and the cause of freedom; provoked at the desertion of
their British patrons, and despairing of the triumph they had promised
themselves in the complete success of the ministerial troops and the
conquest of America by the arms of Britain; adopted the unjust and
dangerous resolution of avenging on individuals anything which they
deemed injurious to their partisans.

They said in their won vindication, and perhaps they had too much
reason to allege, that the troops of Congress, in many instances,
had not bee less sanguine than themselves in the inflictions of
summary punishment. Doubtless, both parties were far from
exercising that lenity and forbearance toward their enemies that both
humanity and equity require. This was often made a pretext to justify
enormities and even private executions, at which compassion and
virtue shudder.

Nothing of the kind had recently occasioned so much public

observation as a the wanton murder of a Captain Huddy, who, with
some others, had been captured by a party of loyalists. He had been
some time their prisoner, without any singular marks of resentment;
but on the death of a man while prisoner, killed by the guards from
whom he was endeavoring to escape, Huddy was brought out of his
cell, deliberately conveyed to the Jersey shore, and, without a trial, or
any crime alleged against him, he was in the most ludicrous manner
hanged amid the shouts of his enemies, who exclaimed at the solemn
period of execution "Up goes Huddy, for Philip White."

General Washington considered this transaction as too insolent and

cruel to be passed over with impunity. It drew him into the painful
resolution, by the advice of the principal officers of the army, to
retaliate by selecting some British prisoner of equal rank to suffer
death, unless Lippencot, one of the associated loyalists, who
commanded the execution of Huddy, was given up to justice. The
designation of an innocent victim to suffer death for the crime of an
unprincipled murderer is a circumstance from which the mind turns in
horror; but according to the laws of war, there was no receding from
the determination, however severe might be the fate of him who was
selected as the hapless victim.

General Washington previously demanded justice on the guilty

perpetrators of the crime; but Sir Henry Clinton and other officers to
whom he represented the business waved a compliance for some
time and appeared in some measure to justify the deed, by asserting
that it was done only by way of example, to prevent similar
enormities, which their partisans, the loyalists, said they had
frequently experienced.

Several British officers of the same rank with Huddy were prisoners in
the American camp; and, according to the denunciation made by the
American to the British commander in chief, they were brought
forward with great solemnity, and a lot cast for the sacrifice to be
made to justice. This was done with much tenderness, sympathy,
and delicacy; when the lot fell on Captain Asgill of the Guards, a
young gentleman of education, accomplishments, and family
expectations, who was only 19 years of age. He was immediately
ordered into close custody until the trial and punishment of Captain
Lippencot should take place. But his trial was conducted with so
much partiality and party acrimony that Lippencot was acquitted After
this, Sir Henry Clinton demanded the release of Asgill, as on a legal
trial no guilt was affixed to the transaction of Lippencot.

This occasioned much uneasiness to General Washington and to

others, who though fully convinced of the iniquity of the murderous
party that procured the death of Huddy, yet they wished for the
release of Captain Asgill. Every humane bosom revolted at the idea
of seeing a youth, whose character was in all respects fair and
amiable, condemned to die instead of a wretch whose hands, stained
with blood, and his heart hardened by repeated murder and crime,
might have had an earlier claim to a halter.

Great interest was made by many British officers, and by Sir Guy
Carleton himself, for the life and release of Captain Asgill, but without
effect. He remained a prisoner under the sentence of death, although
execution was delayed, until every compassionate heart was relieved
by the interference of maternal tenderness. The address of Lady
Asgill, his mother, whose heart was wrung with agonizing fears for the
fate of an only son, procured his release.

After the first pangs of grief and agitation, on the news of his critical
and hazardous situation had subsided, she wrote in the most pathetic
terms to the Count de Vergennes; urging that his influence with
General Washington and the American Congress might be exerted to
save an innocent and virtuous youth from an ignominious death, and
restore the destined victim to the bosom of his mother. This letter,
fraught with sentiments that discovered a delicate mind, an improved
understanding, and a sensibility of heart, under the diction of polished
style, and replete with strong epithets of affection, the French minister
showed to the King and Queen of France, as a piece of elegant
composition.

Though on a despotic throne, where the sovereign disposes of the

subject by his fiat, and cuts off life at pleasure, without regret or
hesitation, the King of France and his royal partner were touched by
the distress of this unhappy mother, and lent their interest for the
liberation of her son. The Count de Vergennes was directed to send
a letter to General Washington; which he did, accompanied with the
observations of the King and Queen, and combined with his own
request in favor of young Asgill.

The commander in chief was happy to transmit to Congress the

several requests and observations, which he had reason to expect
would relieve him from an affair that had embarrassed his mind, both
as a man of humanity and the commander of an army. Congress
immediately directed that Captain Asgill should be liberated from
imprisonment, and left at his own option to choose his future
residence; on which, he took leave of the army and of America, and
repaired to his friends in England.

The reply of General Washington and the resolutions of Congress

relative to granting a passport to Mr. Morgan, secretary to General
Carleton, to go to Philadelphia, was not equally condescending. On
his arrival at New York, Sir Guy Carleton had requested that he might
be permitted to send some letters of compliment to Congress.
General Washington forwarded the request, which drew out a resolve
of Congress "That the commander in chief be hereby directed to

refuse a compliance with the request of General Carleton to grant a

pass to Mr. Morgan to bring dispatches to Philadelphia." It was also
resolved that no intercourse should be opened or that any of the
subjects of Great Britain should be permitted to pass or repass from
the British to the American posts while the provisional articles of
peace were held in suspense.

This was not only a judicious, but a necessary precaution in the

Congress of the United States. At this period, a small circumstance
of intelligence or information might have given a pretext to defeat a
pending negotiation for peace. The fleets and armies of Britain still
kept their station in America; while the clashing interests of foreign
nations, with regard to American claims, were not yet adjusted; and
while the loyalists were clamorous and vindictive, watching the
opportunity of impeding the present measures, which, if ratified, must
leave them in a hopeless state of despondency; at the same time, it
set their countrymen on a point of elevation, contrary to their
predictions, their wishes, and their interests, which had prompted
them to opposition, and for which they had hazarded their ease, their
lives, and the friendship and esteem of their former associates and
friends. These people certainly had high claims of gratitude from the
British government for their unshaken loyalty, through the sharp
conflict that severed the colonies from the dominion of Britain, and
themselves from their native country forever.

_______________

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Discontents with the provisional articles. Mr.

Hartley sent to Paris. The definitive treaty agreed to and signed by all
parties. A general pacification among the nations at war. Mr. Pitt,
Prime Minister in England. His attention to East India affairs. Some
subsequent observations.

After provisional articles for peace had been agreed on at Paris,

between the British and American commissioners, the impatient
curiosity of the British nation for a full communication of their contents
was inexpressible. The ultimate determinations with regard to the
unconditional independence of America were among the most
interesting of their inquiries. But the necessity of concealing affairs of
such national moment for a time, within a veil of secrecy, was urged
by the ministry, as it would bring on discussions and objections which
might embarrass the work of peace. All ambiguity was opposed in the
House of Commons by several members, with no small degree of
warmth. They insisted that no disguise ought to be used, but that the
whole business should be laid open before irretrievable stipulations
should bind the nation to disadvantageous or dishonorary terms. But
when the general tenor of the provisional articles was made known, it
was far from restoring tranquility or harmonizing the several parties.

The general dissatisfaction expressed by persons of high rank and

consideration against both the provisional articles with America and
the preliminary articles for peace with France, Spain, and Holland,
which now lay under consideration, was so great that many began to
be alarmed, lest all the pacific measures should be set afloat and the
hope of tranquility, which had dawned upon the nations, might yet
finally be defeated.

Some of the first characters in the cabinet, the Parliament, and the
nation discovered the most singular disgust and uneasiness at the
proposed Articles of Accommodation, and debate and contention ran
high in both Houses of Parliament. The Lords Walsingham,
Stormont, Sackville, Carlisle, and others were violent in their
opposition to the whole system of peace comprised in the provisional
articles. They thought the character of the nation tarnished, in the
concession made by the negotiators on the part of Britain in favor of
the revolted colonies; whose obstinacy had involved the Crown and
the Kingdom in distresses incalculable, but that the nation was not yet
so reduced as to submit to a mean dereliction of their rights. They
asserted that they yet an army, a navy, and resources sufficient to
chastise the insolence of the House of Bourbon. It was observed that
though the councils of France had upheld the revolted colonies in
opposition to the power of Britain, and now justified their bold
demands, that the combined fleets and France and Spain had
recently felt the superiority and fled from the power of the British flag.

It was not passed over in silence that all hearts had lately been
warmed by their gallant conduct, and every tongue loud in the
applauses of the magnanimous officers who had defended Gibraltar;
that the House of Commons had expressed their gratitude by a vote
of thanks to Governor Elliot and General Boyde, for the astonishing
example of courage, patriotism, and patient suffering which they had
 displayed, in the vigorous defense of a fortress devoted to destruction
by a most formidable foe; that the navy had contributed its full share
in this glorious success, and that the just thanks of the nation had
been offered to Lords Howe, Rodney, and others, who were still ready
for the most gallant defense of all the claims of England against the
combined fleets of France, Spain, and the world.

In short, the sum of their declamations were that the proud glory of
conquest, which had so often perched on the helmet of British
officers, was not, by the dash of an inexperienced pen, [Mr.
Oswald's.] to be meanly prostrated to obtain a peace, either from old
hereditary enemies, or the pertinacity and refractory conduct of their
own offspring in the colonies.

Little delicacy was observed. Mr. Oswald's abilities for the business
of a negotiator were highly ridiculed. Many objections were made,
and copiously dwelt on by the orators in the British Parliament, with
regard to the pending articles; particularly on the right of the fisheries,
on the boundaries of the United states, the free navigation of the
Mississippi, and the forlorn condition of those Americans who had
been attached to the Crown from the beginning of the contest. Their
friends asserted that the abandoning the loyalists and consigning
them over to the cold recommendation of the American Congress,
only on the promise of their commissioners that their situation should
be considered y the several legislatures and that the legislative
powers should advise to a placable spirit and urge the people to
forgiveness, was a fallacious security on which no reliance could be
placed. I was observed that the commissioners themselves could not
expect that such a measure would succeed. They know too well that
this class of men were considered in America as a ten-fold more
inveterate foe than any of the native sons of Britain.

The proposal of their return to and residence in the United States for a
limited term as viewed by gentlemen of the first penetration as a
chimerical project. They were too well acquainted with human nature
to imagine that this description of persons would be received by
them, when they knew that "the Americans in general would consider
it as taking a viper into their bosoms, whose nature could not be
altered, and however well fed, its benefactor could not be secured
from its sting."

The neglect of stipulations in favor of a class of people who had

forsaken their country, lost their property, and risked their lives in the
field from their attachment to the British Crown, and their fondness for
the government of England, was styled criminal in every view. It was
asserted that it was marked with cruelty, injustice, and ingratitude.

Doubtless, many of the advocates of the loyalists in the British

Parliament, argued from what they though the principles of rectitude,
rather than from the prejudices of party; and could those principles
along have had their full operation in the minds of men,
notwithstanding past provocations, it might have been the policy of the
Americans at this period to have laid aside their prejudices. At the
same time, it would have exemplified their benevolence to have
forgiven, cherished, and secured the friendship of a large body of
people, instead of perpetuating an alienation, and transmitting it from
sire to son, through successive generations. But it was the
indispensable duty of the British government to protect and to
compensate. This they afterwards did in some instances, in a very
ample manner; but many of this unfortunate class were espoused to
sufferings which they had never contemplated, when they forsook
their neighbors, their relations, and their families, for the precarious
hope of better fortune from the oppressors of their country.

These and other circumstances shook the minister in his place. He felt
he did not stand on very firm ground, however, recently encircled by
favoritism, though at the summit of power, and still the bubble of
popularity. the gale was about to pass off, and leave him in private
life, the sport of change, but not in the quietude of retirement. The
rivals of Lord Shelburne were powerful, his enemies subtle and
 sagacious; and the inconsistency which appeared in his principles
relative to the independence of America gave them a fair occasion to
discuss his opinions and to displace him from office.

Desirous as was Mr. Fox and some other gentlemen for a happy
accommodation with America, and a happy termination of war with all
the nations, they spurned at several of the proposed articles of
peace; an singular as it may appear, the consequence of the present
fermentation was a second coalition, composed of still more jarring
atoms than the first... the leopard was indeed to lie down with the
lamb.

Notwithstanding their former disagreement in opinion, their rancor and

bitterness on many occasions; the antipodes in political sentiment,
with regard to the prerogative of the Crown, the majesty of the
people, and the American war; a strange connection took place,
viewed by the nation as a kind of political phenomenon. Lord North
and Mr. Fox were seen acting together in administration, in
conjunction with Lords Cavendish and Stormont, Keppel and Carlisle.
The Duke of Portland was appointed First Lord of the Treasury in the
room of Lord Shelburne, who had enjoyed little tranquility in that
elevated station. The reputation of neither party was much enhanced
by the coalition. It created a general suspicion of the patriotism of
both; and both were considered as acting a part for the gratification of
their won interests and passions, rather than from a regard to the
public welfare.

Mr. Fox was reproached with forsaking his former friends, and
assimilating his character and his attachment, as convenience
required, to the politics of the day. To this he replied that "for the
painful losses he had experienced in his friendships, he must find a
consolation in the purity and consistency of his intentions, and that
rectitude of design which had ever been his guide in his political
career."
While the general expectation of a resheathing of the sword had
spread a humane satisfaction over the countenances of man in
Europe and in America, the minds of the contemplative and
sagacious characters in the United States were filled with anxiety on
the variety of difficulties which lay before them. They anticipated the
impracticability of disbanding an army become discontented from
deficiencies in payment. They saw the impossibility of a speedy
discharge of the public debt; of defraying the expenses of a long war,
and paying up the arrearages due to the soldiery, who had bravely
borne the toils of the field, amid poverty, hunger, danger, and death.
They were too well acquainted with human nature to expect that a
people who had been so long in such a perturbed state should sit
down in tranquility and order, until some necessary arrangements for
the operations of a free, yet energetic government, should be
established. This they considered, in the situation of their country, a
work that required the talents of the most able statesmen, and the
virtues of the most disinterested patriots to digest. The jarring
interests of the states and of individuals, and their dissonant opinions
of forms and modes of government might prevent the adoption of the
best that could be suggested and create jealousies and ferments that
might terminate in domestic confusion and war, until anarchy or
despotism should succeed.

In addition to all other difficulties apprehended by speculative and

judicious Americans, previous to the provisional articles terminating in
a definitive treaty of peace, they dreaded the idea of a large body of
loyalists left by Great Britain, to make terms of reconciliation with their
offended countrymen.

It was a very precarious hope on which these refugees had to build.

they had little reason (as observed) to expect the resentment of a
whole people would be annihilated merely by the recommendation of
the American agents. They could not but be sensible that if the
governing powers were mollified and should recommend moderation
and forbearance, yet the mutual injuries and affronts between
individuals and families, in consequence of political dissonance,
would not be likely to lie dormant, but would be brought back to
recollection on every trivial occasion. It was to be expected that old
animosities would be raked open, that would forever disturb the
peace of society, when they took their stand beside their injured
neighbors, weeping the loss of a father, a husband, or a son, who had
perished in the dreadful conflict, many of them by the hands of a
class of men now thrown back on their wounded feelings.

In the mean time the business of negotiation went forward among the
belligerent powers. Some new arrangements were made. Mr. Hartley
was sent to Paris, whose commission superseded that of Mr. Oswald.
We have seen that Mr. John Adams had left Holland and joined the
plenipotentiaries of the United States, previous to the agreement on
provisional articles for peace, signed November 1782. He was no
favorite of the officers and administration of affairs at the Gallican
Court. His manners were not adapted to render him acceptable in
that refined and polished nation; nor did he appear to have much
partiality for, or confidence in them. But firm to the interests of his
country, and tenacious of its claims, he advocated and defended
them with ability; and by his determined spirit was essentially
serviceable in maintaining the stipulations required in behalf of the
United States.

Now was Mr. Jay less strenuous or indefatigable to counteract

everything he thought might militate with the interest of America. He
invalidated difficulties as they arose, with the accuracy of the
statesman, and obviated every objection to just and equal
advantages in the treaty which his countrymen required. Dr.
Franklin's known attachment toe the interests of the United States,
and his conspicuous talents as a negotiator preclude the necessity of
any observations on his abilities, his character, or his conduct.

It has been before observed that Congress shad inadvertently

endeavored to fetter their agents by directing them to be under the
councils of France, rather too much for a free and independent
nation. These gentlemen considered such restrictions dishonorary to
themselves and their country; and by their vigor, zeal, and address,
acted, through every stage of the business, as the agents of a free
nation, not to be influenced by foreign considerations or councils.

Near ten months elapsed, after singing the provisional articles, before
the definitive treaty was completed. Previous to the adjustment of all
the articles contained in this treaty, much address, altercation,
intrigue, and finesse among the parties, was is usual on similar
occasions, was intermixed with fair negotiation. All preliminaries at
length agreed to, this important instrument was signed at Paris on
September 3, 1783.

David Hartley, esquire, on the part of Great Britain, and Benjamin

Franklin, John Jay, and John Adams, esquires, on behalf of America,
affixed their names and their seals to the treaty for the restoration of
harmony between Britain, and the ancient potent parent, and the
emancipated colonies, and sent it forward for the ratification of
Congress and of the British Parliament.

The definitive treaty between Great Britain and the United States
contained only nine articles. The first of these was a full and
complete acknowledgment of the independence of America. His
Britannic Majesty, in the first article, "acknowledges the United States,
viz. New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and
Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South
Carolina, and Georgia, to be Free, Sovereign, and Independent
States; that He treats with them as such; and for Himself, His heirs,
and successors, relinquishes all claim to the government, property,
and territorial rights of the same, and every part thereof." [See Note 3
at the end of this chapter]

On the same day, September 3, the definitive treaty between Great

Britain and France was signed at Versailles by the Duke of
Manchester in behalf of the King of England, and on the part of
France by the Count de Vergennes.

The count de Aranda and the Duke of Manchester mutually

exchanged their seals for the happy event of a peace between
England and Spain. The definitive treaty of peace and friendship
between His Britannic Majesty and the King of Spain was also signed
at Versailles September 3, 1783.

All impediments that barred the accommodation between England and

Holland had been removed, and peace and harmony restored
between His Britannic Majesty and the States-General of the United
Provinces. Preliminary articles for this purpose were adjusted and
singed at Paris by the ministers of the respective courts on
September 2, 1783.

The King of Sweden had invited a treaty of amity and commerce with
America, in a very handsome, complimentary manner. He observed
that he was "desirous of forming a connection with a people who had
so well established their independence, and who, by their wisdom
and bravery, so well deserved it." This treaty had been singed April 3,
1783, and a stipulation made for its continuance for the term of 15
years, before any revision or renewal should take place.

Denmark ordered the American flag to be treated like that of the

republics of the first order. Indeed, after the independence of the
United States was explicitly acknowledged by the King of Great
Britain, most of the European nations were, or appeared to be, fond
of forming connections with a young, growing republic. The
independent rank of America was now viewed in connection with her
prolific soil, abundant resources, commercial genius, and political
principles, which indicated her rising into eminence and
consideration, that would set her on a footing with any nation on
earth, if she did not become corrupted by foreign vices, or sunk by
the indulgence of her own foolish passions.
 The Batavian Republic was the first nation beyond the Atlantic, after
the French, who sent an envoy in form to the Congress of America.
On October 31, 1783, Peter John Van Berkel was received by them
as minister plenipotentiary from the States- General of the United
Netherlands. By the president and members of Congress, every
mark of respect, cordiality, and friendship was shown; and on the
other side it was amply returned by the address and politeness of the
Dutch minister; who, with many eloquence and grace, addressed that
venerable body, and expressed his own regard and the esteem of his
constituents for the citizens of the United States. In the president's
reply, he acknowledged the high sense Americans had of the
importance of the alliance, and the gratitude they all felt for the
services rendered the United States by individuals of his nation and
particularly by himself and family, previous to the completion of the
late treaty.

Thus, after the horrors of war had shed their baneful influence over
the nations, without cessation, for seven or eight years; and after the
havoc of human lie had, as usual, displayed the absurdity of mankind,
in the delight they seem to discover in the destruction of their own
species; a truce of the miseries of the inhabitants of the earth, on the
one side of the globe, was promised for a season. Though the nations
had been long engaged in war, peace seemed now to lift up her
declined head, and promise a general tranquility. her advances were
made across the Atlantic; yet no official accounts were received by
Congress that a definite treaty had been signed by the ministers of
the several belligerent powers until the conclusion of the year 1783.

It has already been observed that the provisional and preliminary

articles for a general pacification among the contending powers had
been signed at Paris November 29, 1782; but the completion of the
definitive treaty productive of a general peace, was not agreed to until
the succeeding autumn; when, as related above, the signatures and
seals of the commissioners on all sides were affixed to the several
stipulate articles, and the world relieved from a long constrained
situation of mind, between hope, expectation, and fear.

Yet the intelligence of the spring of 1783 had been equally impressive
in the American army, as if peace had actually been proclaimed by
sound of trumpet. Nor was it strange that the military departments,
nor indeed that all the inhabitants of the Untied

States, should feel the same impression. The intelligence of the

present prospects of a complete accommodation of existing
differences was accompanied with private as well as public letters
from Mr. Adams, Mr. jay, and other distinguished Americas, replete
with the strongest assurances that hostilities would not be
recommenced; and that the fleets and armies of Great Britain would,
in a few months, be withdrawn from the ports and cities of the United
States.

But there was yet much to be done on both sides of the water. it could
not be expected that after a convulsion of such magnitude that the
American officers and soldiers could at once retire and sit down
quietly, each under his own vine and fig tree; or that the turbulent
spirit of hostile nations could in a moment be tranquilized; much less,
that the pride of the British ministry and Parliament should suffer them
to settle down in tranquil repose among themselves, after the long
series of mortification, discontent, and disunion that had embittered
every department, and almost every individual against the political
opinions of his neighbor, and the civil and political administration of
the affairs of his country.

The preliminary and provisional articles had terminated in a definitive

treaty of peace. In this, the general sense of the nation and the
wishes of the people were gratified. Yet there were still sources of
discontent sufficient to indicate that the present ministry stood on
slippery ground.
Lord North had been long unpopular. Mr. Fox had many and potent
enemies. But "naturally of a comprehensive mind and constitutionally
fraught with good humor and general kindness, the field of popular
applause seemed to be perfectly congenial to him." But he had a
powerful rival in a son of the late favorite of the nation, Lord Chatham.
This young gentleman had in a remarkable manner won the favor of
His Sovereign and the hearts of the people. On may interesting
questions, he had argued on the popular side and had gained an
ascendancy that promised eminence, celebrity, and station in the first
grade of office and influence. He was among the most strenuous
advocates of a reform in Parliament. He was zealous for a
commercial treaty with the United States, and ridiculed the language,

the conduct, and the impediments thrown in the way; and condemned
the regulations and restrictions on the American trade, which, he
observed, must forever keep open the door of animosity between the
two countries.

Nor did he less oppose and ridicule the India Bill, so much the subject
of investigation and discussion, introduced by Mr. Fox, and rejected
by a majority of the House of Lords. But the confusions and
distractions in the East Indies required that some energetic and wise
measures should be immediately adopted to reform abuses and
restore justice and peace in that oppressed country. This produced a
second India Bill, brought forward by Mr. Pitt himself, which was also
rejected, and the door still left open for much contention and debate
relative to the affairs of India and the distresses of the unhappy
inhabitants.

Thus animosities were kindled among the first characters of the

nation, and discontents fomented until everything verged to the
extreme of disunion. "It was impossible for Mr. Fox to do anything in
a cold, uninterested, or indifferent manner. He therefore always went
considerable lengths for the attainment of his object." But he finally
lost ground and left his rival to wave his laurels triumphantly in the
field of party, and the favor of his King.

The fluctuation of office, and the changes in administration had been

so frequent in the present reign that it was viewed as a thing of
course, on every dispute or variation of opinion on great political
questions. From the accession of George III in 1761 to 1783, when
Lord Shelburne came in, there had been many different hands who
had taken the helm of the head of the ministry and set the political
bark afloat in a tempest without the ability to recover and moor it in
the haven of peace.

In these circumstances, and at this critical period, Mr. William Pitt, in

the fire of youth, in the pride of brilliant talents, and with the ambition,
if not the hereditary capacity, of the aged statesman, was appointed
Chancellor of the Exchequer. Tenacious of his own character, he
held the high office in spite of opposition or flattery; and so
perseveringly stood his ground and held the reins of power so long
that his friends ceased to fear his removal, and his enemies at last
despaired of carrying any point against a minister that was become at
once a favorite both of the prince and the people.

Notwithstanding the abilities of the new minister and the exertions of

some of his predecessors, now out of place; notwithstanding a
pacification had recently taken place among the European powers;
Great Britain was still tottering under the enormous expenses of the
late war, and her own internal dissensions on subjects of magnitude
and importance. Men of the first abilities and information were wide in
opinion, and divided on every political point. the spirit of party was
heightened and produced continual altercation in Parliament on the
conduct, projects, and character of the young minister. Supported by
royal favor, and sufficiently conscious of his own talents, he was not
borne down by any opposition. It was soon perceptible that the
embarrassments of government, the derangement in political,
commercial, domestic, and foreign affairs, still required much energy
and decision, and perhaps the capacity of older and more
experienced statesmen.

The cruel mismanagement in the East Indies interested the whole

nation. The derangement and distraction of their affairs there, the
enormities committed, and the tragical scenes of barbarity
perpetrated under the presidency of Warren Hastings, governor
general of Bengal, which reduced the country tot he extreme of
penury and misery, were afterwards copiously displayed and amply
detailed in his long protracted trial. This finally terminated without
decision on delinquency or satisfaction to the public.

The dreadful famine in Calcutta in 1779 is well know; that which

succeeded it in 1781 was still more deplorable, when 14,000 persons
died weekly of hunger at Madras; while the provinces of Oude and
Benares suffered in equal degree under the same calamity, brought
on by means which will never be blotted from the memory of man.
[Read the story of the nabob of Oude (See a part of speech made by
Mr. Sheridan on this subject in Note 4 at the end of this chapter) of
Cheitsing -- the widow of Sujah Dowla -- of the conquest of Benares
-- the treatment of the nabobs of Bengal; and, indeed, of all who fell
under the power of the English government, in their wars with the
unfortunate Indians. These are to be found in a variety of authentic
accounts of the conduct and intercourse of the English with the
oriental nations.] These were too complicated and diffuse for a place
here, but some cursory observations on the conduct of British officers
in that country may be admitted.

A specimen of the tragedy acted by General Matthews at Onore,

where he directed no quarter should be given, but every man be put
to the sword, will be impressive from an extract of a letter from one of
his own officers. He observed that "The carnage was great. We
trampled thick on the dead bodies that were strewed in the way. It
was rather shocking to humanity, but such are only secondary
considerations; and to a soldier whose bosom glows with heroic glory,
they are thought accidents of course. His zeal makes him aspire after
further victory."

What a perversion of just ideas! The true glory of man is benignity and
kindness to his fellow mortals; nor can even military glory be
enhanced by the triumphant butchery of mankind. But the same cruel
apathy expressed by one of them, seemed to pervade most of the
officers on this expedition. The riches and splendor of the peninsula
and the extermination of the inhabitants that they might possess their
wealth seemed to be the only object.

From Onore, General Matthews proceeded to Hydernagur, the capital

of Canara. It is true, by astonishing feats of valor, he reached the
metropolis where the wealth of the inhabitants was immense. The
place was surrendered by capitulation. The general possessed of the
treasure and no distribution made. The avarice of the officers to
obtain their full share of the plunder raised murmur and mutiny that
wee not easily quieted; nor was it ever ascertained in whose coffers
the whole was finally deposited.

Before General Matthews returned to Bombay, he sent a detachment

from Hydernagur to Annanpour, under the command of Major
Campbell. The orders were for a storm and no quarter. The cruel
mandates were received with alacrity and put in execution without
delay. every man in the place was put to the sword, except one
horseman, who escaped after being wounded in three different
places. The women, unwilling to be separated from their relations, or
exposed to the brutal licentiousness of the soldiery, threw themselves
in multitudes into the moats with which the fort was surrounded. 400
beautiful young women, pierced with the bayonet and expiring in
each other's arms were in this situation treated by the British with
every kind of outrage. The avenging hand of justice soon overtook the
barbarous, butchering Matthews. He fell into the hands of Tippoo
Saib, after that victorious commander had recaptured Hydernagur, as
loaded with chains, imprisoned, and soon after put to death by his
orders. [It has been said that the manner of his death was that of
pouring melted gold down his throat: a strong expression of the ides
the natives had of his avarice.]

For a further detail of the enormities committed by the servants of

Britain and the sufferings of the inhabitants of India for a number of
years, without mitigation, the reader is referred to the history of that
unfortunate country. There he will find a description of a great part of
this garden of nature, whose prolific shoots have expanded over the
four quarters of the globe, few of whose inhabitants have yet arrived
to a perfect knowledge of the arts, the ingenuity, the sciences,
contained in their Sanskrit and other languages.

Indeed, new discoveries have been recently brought to light, by the

investigation of learned and virtuous Englishmen; who, while pursuing
their inquiries weep to behold so fair a spot of creation [Bengal has
been described as exhibiting the most charming and picturesque
scenery, opening into extensive glades, covered with a fine turf, and
interspersed with woods filled with a variety of birds of beautiful colors;
amongst others, peacocks in abundance, sitting on the vast
horizontal branches, displayed their dazzling plumes to the sun; the
Ganges winding its might waters through the adjacent plains, adding
to the prospect inexpressible grandeur; while the artist at his loom,
under the immense shade of the banyan tree, softened his labor by
the tender strains of music.] bathed in the blood of its native sons, by
the hands of a nation who boast higher degrees of civilization, without
possessing their simplicity, urbanity, and perhaps their knowledge.
But their progress in the arts, their histories of the firs progenitors of
mankind, their astronomical discoveries, and their knowledge of
nature and its operations, must now lay buried with the wreck of their
fortunes, and many of them enveloped in the rubbish of complete ruin,
brought on them by European avarice and ambition.

But a correction of some abuses in India took place early in the

administration of Mr. Pitt. New regulations were adopted; and critical
inquiry made into the conduct of the East India company, and their
officers. Several of the old officers of government were removed, and
men of more humanity sent forward in their places. Among them, Sir
William Jones was appointed one of the judges of the supreme court
of judicature. The character of this gentleman deserves every
encomium. From his writings and the testimony of contemporaries, he
was an honor to his country, a benefactor to mankind, and an
ornament to the world. His elegant manners, profound erudition, pure
morals, and strict justice were conspicuous in all the transactions of
his life. The deep researches of Sir William Jones in ancient oriental
history have thrown great light on the customers, manners, habits,
and the various religions among the Indians, both ancient an
modern. His learned labors must undoubtedly tend to improvements
in science, and the culture of virtue and true religion, through the
enlightened part so of the world; and perhaps to soften and humanize
the hearts of his own countrymen, in their future unwarrantable
invasions of the inhabitants of the East.

The English are, indeed, an astonishing nation. Though frequently

involved in hostilities with half the world; confounded by the
immensity of their own national debt, accumulating almost beyond
calculation; plunged in luxury and venality; their manners and their
constitution corrupted; yet, by their extensive commerce, the strength
of their navy, their valor, their genius, and their industry, they
surmount all embarrassments with address and facility, and rise
superior to the evils that would augur the downfall of any other nation
on earth.

No country has produced men more learned and liberal, of more

comprehensive genius,

virtue, and real excellence, than England. Yet the contrast may as
justly be exhibited there, as in any part of the world. But the balance
of real merit, both individual and national, must be left to the all-
pervading eye, which , with a single glance surveys the moral and
intellectual system of creation. We now leave them to the rotations of
time, and the reaction of human events, to the period which shall be
pointed by the providential government of Him, to whom a thousand
years are as one day; when they also may be viewed a spectacle of
woe, by the remnant nations, annihilated by their rapacity, ambition,
and victorious arms.

Let us hasten to turn our eyes from the miserable Mahrattas, the
desolated tribes of Hindustan, and the naked Carnatic [See Mr.
Burke's speech in the House of Commons relative to the desolation of
the Carnatic.] divested of everything that had breathed, by the
ravages of a relentless foe. A dead and dreary silence reigns over an
extent of 500 or 600 miles of these once full peopled plans. Nor will
we dwell longer on any of the proud projects of conquest in the
cabinet of Great Britain, either in the East or the West; but carry the
mind forward, and indulge a pleasing anticipation of peace and
independence to the United States of America.

************************************

Note 3

The definitive treaty of peace and friendship between His Britannic

Majesty and the United States of America, signed at Paris September
3, 1783.

In the name of the most holy and undivided Trinity.

It having please the Divine Providence to dispose the hearts of the

most serene and most potent prince, George III, by the grace of God
King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, Duke
of Brunswick and Lunenburg, Arch Treasurer and Prince Elector of
the Holy Roman Empire, etc., and of the United States of America, to
forget all past misunderstandings and differences that have unhappily
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 convenience, 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 articles signed at Paris on November 30, 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
terms of peace should be agreed upon between Great Britain and
France, and His Britannic Majesty should be ready to conclude such
treaty accordingly; and the treaty between Great Britain and France
having since been concluded, His Britannic Majesty and the United
States of America, in order to carry into full effect the provisional
articles above mentioned, according to the tenor thereof, have
constituted and appointed; that is to say, His Britannic Majesty on his
part, David Hartley, Esquire. member of the Parliament of Great
Britain; and the said United States on their part, John Adams,
Esquire, late a commissioner of the United States of America at the
Court of Versailles, late delegate in Congress from the state of
Massachusetts, and chief justice of the said state, and minister

plenipotentiary of the said United States to their High Mightinesses the

States General of the United Netherlands; Benjamin Franklin,
Esquire, late delegate in Congress from the state of Pennsylvania,
president of the convention of the said state, and minister
plenipotentiary from the United States of America at the Court of
Versailles; and John Jay, Esquire, 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 signing the present definitive
treaty, who, after having reciprocally communicated their respective
full powers, have agreed upon and confirmed the following articles

Article 1 His Britannic Majesty acknowledges the said United States,

viz. New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and
Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South
Carolina, and Georgia, to be free, sovereign and independent states;
that he treats with them as such, and for himself, his heirs, and
successors, relinquishes all claim to the government, proprietary, and
territorial rights of the same, and every part thereof.

Article 2 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 following 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 the St. Croix River to the high lands, along the said high
lands which decide those rivers that empty themselves into the River
St. Lawrence, from those which fall into the Atlantic Ocean, to the
northwestern-most head of the Connecticut River; thence drawn
along the middle of that river to the 45th degree of north latitude; from
thence by a line due west on said latitude until it strikes the River
Iroquois of 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 like and Lake Huron; 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 Wood, to the aid lake of the Woods; thence through the said lake
to the most north-westernmost point thereof and from thence on a
due west course to the River Mississippi; thence by a line to be drawn
along the middle of the said Mississippi, until it shall intersect the
northernmost part of the 31st 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 31 degrees north of the equator to the
middle of the River Apalachicola or Catahouche; then along the
middle thereof to its junction with the Flint River; thence straight to the
head 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 20 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 said province of
Nova Scotia.

Article 3 It is agreed that the people of the United States shall

continue to enjoy unmolested the right to take fish of every kind on
the Great Bank, and on all the other banks of Newfoundland; also in
the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and at all other places on the sea where the
inhabitants of both countries used at any time heretofore 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 Newfoundland as
British fishermen shall use, (but not to dry or cure the same on that
island) and also on the coats, bays, an creeks, of all other of His
Britannic Majesty's dominions in America; and that the American
fishermen shall have liberty to dry and cure fish in any of the unsettled
bays, harbors, and creeks of Nova Scotia, Magdalen Islands, and
Labrador, so long as the same shall remain unsettled; but so soon as
the same shall be settled, it shall not be lawful for the said fishermen
to dry or cure fish at such settlement, without a previous agreement
for that purpose with the inhabitants, proprietors, or possessors of the
ground.

Article 4 It is agreed that the creditors on either side shall meet with no
lawful impediment to the recovery of the full value in sterling money of
all bona fide debts heretofore contracted.
Article 5 It is agreed that Congress shall earnestly recommend it to the
legislature of the respective states to provide for the restitution of all
estates, rights, and properties, which have been confiscated,
belonging to real British subjects; and also of the estates, rights, and
properties of persons resident in districts in the possession of His
Majesty's arms and who have not borne arms against the said Untied
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 the estate, rights, and properties as
may have been confiscated; and that Congress shall also earnestly
recommend to the several states a reconsideration and revision of all
acts of laws regarding the premises, so as to render the said laws of
acts perfectly consistent, not only with justice and equity, but with the
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 who may be now in
possess, 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 interest in confiscated
lands, either by debts, marriage settlements, or otherwise, shall meet
with no lawful impediment in the prosecution of their just rights.

Article 6 That there shall be no future confiscations 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 charges, at the time of the ratification
of the treaty in America, shall be immediately set at liberty, and the
persecutions so commenced be discontinued.
Article 7 There shall be firm and perpetual peach 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 inhabitants, 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 artillery that
may be therein; and shall also order and cause all archives, records,
deeds, and papers 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.

Article 8 The navigation of the River Mississippi, from its source to the
ocean, shall forever remain free and open to the subjects of Great
Britain and the citizens of the United States.

Article 9 In case it should so happen that any place or territory

belonging to Great Britain 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.

Article 10 The solemn ratifications of the present treaty, expedited in

good an due form, shall be exchanged between the contracting
parties in a space of six months or sooner if possible, to be computed
from the day of the signature of the present treaty.

In witness whereof, we, the undersigned, their ministers

plenipotentiary, have in their name, and in virtue of our full powers,
signed with our hands the present definitive treaty, and caused the
seals of our arms to be affixed thereto.

Done at Paris, September 3, 1783.

David Hartley John Adams Benjamin Franklin John Jay

*************************

Note 4

The celebrated Mr. Sheridan observed in a speech on the ravages in

India under the government of Mr. Hastings "Had a stranger at this
time gone into the Kingdom of Oude, ignorant of what had happened
since the death of Sujah Dowla, that man, who with a savage heart
had still great lines of character, and who, with all his ferocity in war,
had with a cultivating hand preserved to his country the riches which it
derived from benignant skies, and a prolific soil; if this stranger,
ignorant of all that had happened in the short interval and observing
the wide and general devastation and all the horrors of the scene;
vegetation burnt up and extinguished; villages depopulated and in
ruin; temples unroofed and perishing; reservoirs broken down and
dry; he would naturally inquire, What war has thus laid waste the
fertile fields of this once beautiful and opulent country? What civil
dissensions have happened, thus to tear asunder and separate the
happy societies that once possessed those villages? What disputed
succession? What religious rag has with unholy violence demolished
those temples and disturbed fervent but unobtruding piety in the
exercise of its duties What merciless enemy has thus spread the
horrors of fire an sword? What severe visitation of Providence has
thus dried up the fountains, and taken

every vestige of verdure from the earth? Or rather, What monsters

have stalked over the country, tainting and poisoning with pestiferous
breath, what the voracious appetite could not devour? To such
questions what must be the answers? No wars have ravaged these
lands, and depopulated these villages; no civil discords have been
felt; no disputed succession; no religious rage; no merciless enemy;
no affliction of Providence, which, while it scourged for the moment,
cut off the sources of resuscitation; no voracious and poisoning
monsters; no; all this has been accomplished by the friendship,
generosity, and kindness of the English nation. they have embraced
us with their protecting arms , an lo! these are the fruits of their
alliance."

_______________

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Peace proclaimed in America. General

Carleton delays the withdraw of the troops from New York. Situation
of the loyalists. Efforts in their favor by some gentlemen in Parliament.
Their final destination. Their dissatisfaction and subsequent conduct.

The discordant sounds of war that had long grated the ears of the
children of America were now suspended, and the benign and
heavenly voice of harmony soothed their wounded feelings, and they
flattered themselves the dread summons to slaughter and death
would not again resound on their shores. The independence of
America acknowledged by the first powers in Europe, and even Great
Britain willing to resheathe the sword on the same honorable terms
for the United States, every prospect of tranquility appeared.

These were events for which the statesman had signed in the arduous
exertions of the cabinet; for which the hero had bared his breast, and
the blood of the citizens had flowed in copious streams on the
borders of the Atlantic, from the River St. Mary's to the St. Croix, on
the eastern extreme of the American territory. Peace was proclaimed
in the American army, by order of the commander in chief, on April 19,
 1783. This is just eight years from the memorable day when the first
blood was drawn in the contest between the American colonies and
the parent state, in the fields of Concord and Lexington.

The operation and consequences of the restoration of peace were

now the subject of contemplation. This opened objects of magnitude
indeed to a young republic which had rapidly passed through the
grades of youth and puberty, and was fast arriving to the age of
maturity -- republic consisting of a number of confederated states,
which by this time had received many as inhabitants, who were not
originally from the stock of England. Some of them, indeed, were
from more free governments, but others had fled from the slavery of
despotic courts. From their numbers and abilities they had become
respectable, and their opinions weighty in the political scale. From
these and other circumstances, it might be expected that, in time, the
general enthusiasm for a republican system of government in America
might languish and new theories be adopted or old ones modified
under different names and terms, until the darling system of the
inhabitants of the United States might be lost or forgotten in a
growing rabidity for monarchy.

Symptoms of this nature already began to appear in the language of

some interested and ambitious men, who endeavored to confound
ideas and darken opinion by asserting that republicanism was an
indefinite term. In social circles they frequently insinuated that no
precise meaning could be affixed to a word by which people were
often deceived and led to pursue a shadow instead of an object of any
real stability. This was indeed, more the language of art than
principle, seemed augur the decline of public virtue in a free state.

It required the utmost vigilance to guard against, and counteract

designs thus secretly covered. It was not unexpected by the judicious
observers of human conduct, that many contingencies might arise to
defeat of to render fruitless the efforts that had been made on the
practicability of erecting and maintaining a pure, unadulterated,
republican government.

Time must unfold the futility of such an expectation, or establish a

system on a basis that will lead mankind to rejoice in the success of
an experiment that has been too often tried in vain. Those who have
been nurtured in the dark regions of despotism, who have witnessed
the sale of the peasantry with the glebe they have cultivated from
infancy, and who have seen the sire and the son transferred with the
stables and the cattle, from master to master, cannot realize the
success of a theory that has a tendency to exalt the species and
elevate the lower grades of mankind to a condition nearer to an
equality with adventitious superiority. It is not wonderful that a people
of this description and education should be incredulous of the utility of
more free modes of government. They are naturally tenacious of old
customs, habits, and their own fortuitous advantages. They are
unable to form an idea of general freedom among mankind without
distinction of ranks that elevate one class of men to the summit of
pride and insolence, and sink another to the lowest grade of servility
and debasement.

But Americans born under no feudal tenure, nurtured in the bosom of

mediocrity, educated in the schools of freedom; who have never been
used to look up to any lord of the roil as having a right by prescription,
habit, or hereditary claim to the property of their flocks, their herds,
and their pastures, may easily have been supposed to have grown to
maturity with very different ideas, and with a disposition to defend
their allodial inheritance to the last moment of their lives.

The United States of America, however, had yet many matters of the
highest importance to adjust. They had many descriptions of persons
to quiet, and many circumstances connected with foreign nations
that required diplomatic discussion, particularly with regard to the
laws of trade and the regulation of commerce, both at home and
abroad, before a stable form of government could either be adopted or
organized. The army was not yet disbanded, and a powerful body of
loyalists were retarding the completion of some of the articles of the
treaty of peace and embarrassing the commander in chief of the
British army by their murmurs and discontents.

When Sir Henry Clinton was recalled from the command of the King's
forces in America, he was succeeded by Sir Guy Carleton, who was
vested with a very extensive commission. He had the direction and
government of all military affairs in Canada, New York, and wherever
else the Crown of England claimed any stand in the United States.

According to the articles of the definitive treaty, all the posts held by
the troops of His Britannic Majesty within the territories of the United
States were to be immediately evacuated; and on the certitude of a
general accommodation, every British and Hessian soldier was to be
drawn off and retire from the continent. But a delay took place which,
in some instance, we shall see was fatal to the pace of the United
States.

The British troops still occupied New York, though by treaty it was to
have been relinquished on the declaration of peace. It is true,
however, that General Carleton had usually conducted with great
politeness both toward Congress and the commander in chief of the
armies of the United States; but he was himself embarrassed
between his duty and his honor.

The reasons for staying longer at New York than was stipulated by
treaty, were not grounded on mere plausible pretense. The principal
argument offered by hi for a non-compliance with orders and delaying
the expectations of the Americans was the obligation he thought
Great Britain under, to protect the loyalists. At the same time, his own
mind was impressed with the necessity and justice of aid and support
to a body of hapless men, "who ought when administration no longer
needed the assistance of disaffected Americans and refugees."
Whether wholly influenced by compassion towards the loyalists, or
whether stimulated by political reasons in the cabinet of his court,
General Carleton did not appear to show any extraordinary degree of
moderation in consequence of the delay. Several months after the
proclamation for peace, General Carleton wrote the president [See
General Carleton's letter to Mr. Boudinot, then president.] of the
Congress of the United States that he wished to accelerate his orders
to evacuate New York; and that "he should lose no time as far as
depended on him, to fulfill His Majesty's commands, but that the
difficulty of assigning the precise period for this event is of late greatly
increased."

He complained in this letter that the violence of the Americans, which

broke out soon after the cessation of hostilities, increased the number
of their countrymen who looked to him for escape from threatened
destruction; and that these terrors had of late been so considerably
augmented that almost all within the line conceived the safety both of
their property and their lives, depended on being removed by him,
which rendered it impossible t say when the evacuation could be
completed. He said, "whether they had just grounds to assert that
there was either no government within the limits of the American
territory, for common protection, or that it secretly favored the
committees, in the sovereignty they assume and are exercising, he
should not pretend to determine."

He observed that "as the public papers furnished repeated proofs, not
only a disregard to the articles of peace, but contained barbarous
menaces from committees formed in various cities and districts and
even at Philadelphia, the very place which the Congress had chosen
for their residence; that he should show an indifference to the feeling
of humanity, as well as to the honor and interest of the nation, whom
he served, to leave any of the loyalists, that are desirous to quit the
country, a prey to the violence they conceive they have so much
cause to apprehend."
He intimated that Congress might learn from his letter how much
depended upon themselves and the subordinate legislatures to
facilitate the service he was commanded to perform; that they might
abate the fears and lessen the number of the emigrants. But should
these fears continue and compel such multitudes to remove, he
should hold himself acquitted from every delay in fulfilling his orders,
and the consequences which may result therefrom. He also added
that "it made no small part of his concern that the Congress had
thought proper to suspend to so late an hour recommendations
stipulated by the treaty and in the punctual performance of which, the
King and his ministers had expressed such entire confidence."

This letter was considered by Congress, the officers of the army, and
the people in general as evasive, if not affrontive; and taught them
the necessity of standing on their guard, and holding their arms in
their hands, until the removal of all hostile appearances, the entire
evacuation of New York, and until the fleets of His Britannic Majesty
were withdrawn from the American seas.

The loyalists were still very numerous in the city, though some of them
had dispersed

themselves in despair to seek an asylum without much dependence

on government. Their situation was indeed truly deplorable. They
had everything to fear if the British troops withdrew and left them to
the clemency of their countrymen now elated by success, and more
hardened against the feelings of humanity, by the cruel scenes of war
they had witnessed.

The conduct of the American refugees had been such from the
commencement of hostilities that they could not but be conscious, as
expressed by a celebrated American patriot, [Governor Livingston.]
that "they were responsible for all the additional blood that had been
spilt by the addition of their weight in the scale of the enemy." He
observed "they were sensible they could never regain the confidence
of their late fellow subjects, whose very looks must confound and
abash men who in defiance of nature and education have not only, by
a reversed ambition, chosen bondage before freedom, but waged an
infernal war against their nearest connections, for not making the like
abhorred election."

Everyone will readily conceive that these people at this time were
really in a distressed situation. Their own ideas of the improbability of
harmony and quiet, even if permitted to return to the bosom of their
country, comported with the above observations. These were strongly
expressed in a memorial tot he British Secretary of State, forwarded
by them soon after the definitive treaty.

In this memorial, they observe "that the personal animosities that

arose from civil dissensions had been heightened by the blood that
had been shed, to such a degree that the two parties could never be
reconciled. They, therefore, prayed, that they might have an
assignment of lands, and assistance from the Crown to make
settlements for themselves and families."

The experiment of this intermixture and reunion of heterogeneous

characters had not yet been tried; but from the temper of the people
throughout the continent, there did not appear to be any great
probability that the recommendation of Congress to the legislative
bodies would disarm the resentment or eradicate the painful ideas
that the presence of American refugees would revive. The minds of
many had suffered too much in their persons or connections from
such as they thought ought to have assisted in the struggle for the
independence of their country to be healed in a moment.

It is beyond a doubt that there was little conciliatory feeling on either

side. So far from it, the vanquished in New York were threatened with
severe vengeance by one party, while the other poured out the most
bitter expressions of resentment against the Congress and the people
of America, now rejoicing in the success of their own arms. This
temper was far from justifiable. It was neither acting as wise politicians
or real Christians; but it was the natural ebullition of injured and
provoked human nature which too seldom pays the strictest regard to
national faith, honor, or moral precept, when passion has been
wrought up beyond a certain degree of forbearance.

It is matter of wonder that the whole class of loyalists, though

disarmed of power, were so imprudent as not to discover any
disposition to harmonize with or a wish to conciliate the affections of
their former friends and associates. They expressed their rancor on
the all occasions, and when assured that the definitive treaty was
actually signed, they broke out into the most violent paroxysms of
rage and disappointment. Epithets of the most indecent and vindictive
nature often fell from their lips, and increased the general disgust
planted in the bosoms of their countrymen from their first defection
from the American cause.

The recent outrages that had been committed, sanctioned by orders

from the Associated Board of Loyalists, as they styled themselves,
had given reason to apprehend that a spirit of revenge would be
excited, that might preclude all lenity and forbearance in the minds of
those citizens who had been pillaged, insulted, and abused. It was
justly apprehended that the unhoused mourners for father, brothers, or
beloved sons betrayed into the hands of pitiless enemies by this
description of persons, could not readily forgive.

In order to check this rancorous spirit, or rather to lessen the influence

of such an invidious temper, and present the fatal effects that might
on both sides arise from its indulgence, General Carleton, soon after
his arrival at New York, had directed the dissolution of the society and
forbidden any more meetings as an associated body, under any
name of form. But he considered the situation of this class, more
particularly those who had been active members of the Board of
Associated Loyalists, as too hazardous to desert at the present
moment. It has been observed that he thought it his indispensable
duty to reside in the city and to retain the British troops for a time, for
the protection of all the unhappy people under the description of
Tories or loyalists. He therefore waited until some arrangements and
proper provisions could be made for their subsistence.

Notwithstanding the British negotiators had been obliged to leave

them in a very indeterminate situation, or recede from the
negotiations for peace, great attention had been paid to this
description of persons in the debates of the British Parliament. Sir
Adam Ferguson had suggested, some time before the peace, in the
course of debate, that they ought to be divided into three classes:
"first, those who had early taken arms in the cause of Britain;
secondly, those who had fled to England with their families; lastly,
those who had continued at home and did not act or style themselves
loyalists until the King's troops called them out to express their
opinions by personally acting against the Americans." He said that "a
discrimination ought to be made and that they should be rewarded
according to their merits and sufferings."

This discrimination was attended with difficulty; but everyone though

that government was under obligations to each of these classes that
could not be winked out of sight; but they all had claims of
consideration and compensation, for their efforts to support the
measures of Parliament, if not for any essential services rendered to
the Crown.

Many noblemen were zealous that suitable provision should be made

for the American loyalists of all descriptions, and no one appeared
more interested in their favor than Lord Shelburne. In consequence of
this, some arrangements were made for their establishment, and an
apportionment of lands assigned them in the province of Nova Scotia.
They were there assisted by the British government to erect a town
which was incorporated by the name of Shelburne, and patronized by
His Lordship. But it was a sterile spot, and many of them took better
ground for themselves at New Brunswick, St. John's, and other parts
of Nova Scotia, Canada, and within the limits of any part of the
American territory yet claimed by Great Britain.

The officers of the provincial corps were allowed half pay for life, but
notwithstanding any partial compensations made to the loyalists by
the British government, their situation in every view was truly pitiable.
many of them had been long separated from their families and
tenderest connections. They had flattered themselves with the hope
of returning in very different circumstances at the conclusion of a war
which they had expected would much sooner have terminated and
have terminated in a manner equal to their sanguine ideas of the
irresistible arm of Britain.

The most exalted opinion of the strength and power of that nation, a
reverential attachment to the Monarch, and the fond influence of old
habits of government and obedience to parliamentary regulations,
had all cooperated with their ideas of the complete subjugation of the
American colonies. They naturally calculated that they should then
be stored to their former residences, and become the favorite subjects
of royal patronage. They had reason to expect that their unshaken
loyalty and

uniform exertions to facilitate the designs of the Court of St. James,

justly deserved a higher tribute of gratitude from the Crown than they
had received. Their banishment to an iron shore, with a cold
recommendation to the sate legislatures to permit them to revisit
those friends that might yet have survived the hand of time and
misfortune; and to make an effort to recover their scattered property
that had frequently shifted hands, as is usual in the confusion of
revolutionary struggles, could not be viewed by them as very high
marks of consideration.

Yet many of them submitted afterwards to their condition, with a spirit

of enterprise and resolution, an endeavored to establish their new
settlements on a respectable footing. But their embarrassments in a
situation so new, the soil unprolific, the climate frigid, and the natural
propensity of the human mind to sigh after a return to its natal spot, to
finish the career of present existence, all cooperated to defeat their
success Shelburne, the pride of their hopes was in a few years nearly
depopulated and many expensive and elegant buildings left without
an inhabitant.

As we shall not again have any further occasion to recur to the subject
of the loyalists, a few observations, the result of their subsequent
conduct, may be here introduced with propriety, though it is rather an
anticipation.

Those who fixed themselves on the more fertile borders of the Bay of
Fundy and St. John's River, succeeded better than those at
Shelburne; but though a few of them felt themselves greatly obligated
to the justice or the generosity of the British government, they
continued their fealty and attachment to the Crown of England, with
the same zeal and fervor which formerly glowed in the bosoms of the
inhabitants of all the American colonies.

The planting a new settlement is an unpleasant task to those who

have been used to softer habits, from the industry, fatigue, and self-
denial necessary to promote its success. Nor does the laborious
exercise of felling trees and erecting log huts for themselves yield
much satisfaction to those of a rougher class, but in the anticipation
of better prospects in future. The hand of time, which generally
ameliorates the miseries of man or reconciles the mind to its
misfortunes, was not sufficiently lenient to make happy these once
voluntary emigrants either in Canada, Nova Scotia, or even in
England. Impatient under the sentence of exile from their native land,
some of them returned to America as aliens, and availed themselves
of the benefit of the Act of Naturalization, afterwards passed by the
American government, in favor of those who wished to become
citizens of the Untied States. But under the influence of their old
prejudices in favor of monarchy, and their minds lowered down by
 habit, to succumb to the doctrine of passive obedience, some of them
were restless and uneasy in the society of men who had recently
suffered so much to procure liberty and independence to themselves
and posterity. They fomented divisions, disseminated party opinions,
ridiculed the principles of the revolution, and vilified many of the first
characters who had exerted themselves to secure the liberties of their
country. These, combined with other circumstances that took place,
seemed to throw a temporary veil over the republican system.

All those who returned to the bosom of their country after the peace,
ought not to be implicated as inheriting such vindictive dispositions.
Whenever the loyalists are mentioned in a collective body, it is but
just to make a reservation of some exceptions in favor of such as
fled, from the terrors awakened in their bosoms by the convulsive
sounds of war. These only wished to return to their native soil, enjoy a
quiet residence in the land which gave them birth. Persons of this
description were to be found in every state in the union, after they
were permitted by treaty to return. These were objects of
commiseration rather than blame. They had lost their property, their
friends, and their felicity, from a mistaken apprehension of the power
of the hostile arm that had been stretched out for the invasion of
America, before their emigration.

Whatever testimony truth may required from an historian, when

investigating the motives of action in public bodies or scrutinizing
individual character, the proneness of man to err should always
admonish him that it is an indispensable duty "to be candid where he
'can'."

It is to be lamented, when political opinion is the only bond of

attachment, when merit, however conspicuous is not acknowledged,
but by the party in which it is enlisted, the web of prejudice is then so
thickly interwoven that no ray of brotherly kindness can penetrate,
and that charity which covers a multitude of sins is totally annihilated.
Though the anticipation in the preceding short chapter may not exactly
accord with the rules of historic writing, no other apology is necessary
than that the awakened curiosity of the reader, as well as his
compassion, will naturally excite a wish to trace the destiny of a body
of men, who had set their faces against the liberties mankind and the
exertions of their countrymen. This class had hazarded their own
fortune and liberty, which were staked against the independence of
America, and the freedom of future generations.

This cursory review of the situation of those unhappy emigrants, the

treatment which they received from the British government, their
destination and compensation in consequence of their attachment to
the Monarch of England, will doubtless permitted, though not in due
order of time, as it was the natural result of a survey of their
character, their condition, their fate at the close of the war, and their
subsequent department.

_______________

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Conduct of the American army on the news of

peace. Mutiny and insurrection. Congress surrounded by a part of
the American army. Mutineers disperse. Congress removes to
Princeton. Order of Cincinnati. Observations thereon.

Before we close the curtain on the scenes that have empurpled the
plains of America, with the blood of some of the best of her citizens,
or before we congratulate the European world on the opportunity of
closing the temple of Janus, for a season, it is proper to retrospect
and mark some of the intermediate transactions of the American
troops, from the capture of Lord Cornwallis and his army to the
proclamation for peace, and the disbanding the troops of the United
States.
We have seen through the narration of events during the war, the
armies of the American states suffering hunger and cold, nakedness,
fatigue, and danger, with unparalleled patience and valor. A due
sense of the importance of the contest in which they were engaged,
and the certain ruin an disgrace in which themselves and their
children would be involved on the defeat of their object, a strong
stimulus to patient suffering. An attachment to their commanding
officers, a confidence in the faith of Congress, and the sober principle
of independence, equity, and equality, in which the most of them had
been nurtured, all united to quiet any temporary murmurs that might
arise from present feelings, and to command the fidelity of soldiers
contending or personal freedom, and the liberties of their country.

The deranged state of the American finances from a depreciating

currency the difficulty of obtaining loans of moneys, and various other
causes had sufficiently impressed them with the danger that
threatened the great object, the independence of the United States of
America. These circumstances had led the army to submit to a delay
of payment of their equitable dues, notwithstanding their personal
sufferings, and to wait the effects of war more efficient stipulations for
adequate rewards in some future day.

But, on the certain intelligence that peace was at hand, that it had
been proposed to disband the army by furloughs, and that there was
no appearance of a speedy liquidation of the public debts, many of
both officers and soldiers grew loud in their complaints, and bold in
their demands. They required an immediate payment of all
arrearages; and insisted on the security of the commutation engaged
by Congress some time before, on the recommendation of General
Washington. He had requested that the officers of the army might be
assured of receiving seven years' whole pay, instead of half pay for
life, which had been stipulated before; this, after reducing the term to
five years, Congress had engaged.

They also demanded a settlement for rations, clothing, and proper

consideration for the delay of payment of just debts which had long
bee due, and an obligation from Congress for compensation or
immediate payment. They chose General McDougal, Colonel
Brooks, and Colonel Ogden, a committee from the arm to wait on
Congress, to represent the general uneasiness, and to lay the
complaints of the army before them, and to enforce the requests of
the officers, most of whom were supposed to have been concerned in
the business. Anonymous addresses were scattered among the
troops; poisonous suggestions whispered, and the most inflammatory
resolutions drawn up, and disseminated through the army These were
written with ingenuity and spirit, but the authors were not discovered.

Reports were everywhere circulated that the military department

would do itself justice; that the army would not disband until Congress
had acceded to all their demands; and that they would keep their
arms in their hands, until they had compelled the delinquent states to
a settlement, and Congress to a compliance with all the claims of the
public creditors.

These alarming appearances were conducted with much art and

intrigue. It was said and doubtless it was true that some persons not
belonging to the army, and who were very adroit in fiscal
management, had their full share in ripening the rupture.

Deeply involved in public contracts, some of the largest public

creditors on the continent were particularly suspected of fomenting a
spirit and encouraging views inconsistent with the principles and
professions of the friends to the Revolution. These were disgusted at
the rejection of the late 5 per cent impost, which had been
contemplated. The were thought to have been busy in ripening
projects which might bring forward measures for the speedy
liquidation of the public demands. The private embarrassments and
expenses of some of this class had frequently prompted them to all-
digested systems of relief to themselves, in which the public were
also involved, from the confidence placed in men by men of the first
consideration. But their expedients and their adventures ended in the
complete ruin of some individuals.

Those gentlemen, however, most particularly implicated in the public

opinion, sustained a character pure, and morals correct, when viewed
in comparison with others who were looking forward to projects of
extensive speculation, to the establishment of banks and funding
systems, and to the erected a government for the Untied States, in
which should be introduced ranks, privileged orders, and arbitrary
powers. Several of these were deep, designing instruments of
mischief; characters able, artful, and insinuating; who wee
undoubtedly engaged in the maneuvers of the army; and though their
designs were not fully comprehended, it was generally believed that
they secretly encouraged the discontents and the attempts of the
disaffected soldiery.

In answer to the address of the officers of the army, Congress

endeavored to quiet by palliatives and by expressions of kindness,
encouragement, and hope, Several months passed in this uneasy
situation. The people anxious, the officers restless, the army
instigated by them and by ambitious and interested men in other
departments, proceeded to the most pernicious resolutions and to
measures of a very dangerous nature.

In the mean time, General Washington, both as commander in Chief

and a man who had the peace of his country at heart, did everything
in his power to quiet complaint, to urge the patience, and to dissipate
the mutinous spirit that prevailed in the army. By his assiduity,
prudence, and judgment, the embers were not slightly covered, but
the fire was not extinguished. The secret murmurs that had rankled for
several months, and had alternately been smothered in the sullen
bosom or blazed high in the sanguine, now broke out into open
insurrection.

On June 20, 1783, a part of the Pennsylvania line, with some others
belonging to the different corps of several of the United States, in
defiance of all order and military discipline, and in contempt of the
advice and even importunity of such as were better disposed,
marched from Lancaster to Philadelphia. There they were joined by
some discontented soldiers in the barracks within the city, who had
recently returned poor, emaciated, and miserable, from the southern
service.

This seditious host surrounded the State House when Congress was
sitting, placed guards at the doors, and threatened immediate
outrage, unless their demands were complied with in the short space
of 24 minutes.

Prompt requisitions and immediate decision, all well-disciplined

armies are used to, but this is no apology for the precipitation of their
present measures. However, from the pride and success of military
maneuvers, to which they had been accustomed, they felt themselves
superior to all civil subordination or control. This is usually the case
with all armies or detachments from them, in all countries, after they
have stood their ground long enough to feel their strength sufficient to
indulge that military tyranny which grows by habit, and makes a
standing army a fit instrument for the support of the most cruel
despotism.

It was indeed very alarming to see the General Congress of the

United States held in a kind of duress, by a part of their own army;
but though extremely clamorous and insolent, the mutineers did not
proceed to personal abuse; and, as if struck by a consciousness of
the impropriety of their own conduct, or over-awed by the appearance
of that honorable body in a state of imprisonment by those whom they
ought to command, the members were soon permitted to separate.
Indeed, they did not meet with any personal insult from the rude and
disorderly soldiers, though their demands were not complied with, nor
any new concessions made in favor of men who threatened to
become the military masters of the country.
Congress, thus rudely assaulted, resented the public affront as they
ought, and judged it improper for themselves to continue longer in a
city where they could not be sure of protection. The president and
the members of Congress agreed to leave Philadelphia immediately,
and to meet on the 26th at Princeton, to proceed on the business of
the United States.

General Washington, very far from countenancing any of the

measures of these disturbers of order and tranquility, and very
unhappy at the discontents that had appeared among many of his
officers, lost not a moment after he was informed of the riotous
proceedings of a part of his army in Philadelphia. He ordered General
Robert Howe to march without delay, with a body of 1500 men, to
quell the mutineers. Aided by the prudent conduct of the magistrates
of the city, things were not carried to the extremities apprehended.
The refractory soldiers were soon reduced to obedience, tranquility
restored, and no blood spilt.

Some of the ringleaders of sedition were taken into custody, but soon
after received a pardon from Congress. The most decided steps were
immediately taken, not only to quell the clamors of the rioters, but to
do justice to the armies of the United States. The commutation, which
had labored in Congress for some time, was finally agreed on: five
years' full pay was acceded to, instead of half pay during the live of
the officers of the army. To this was added a promise of large
proportion of uncultivated land in the western territory, to be
distributed among them according to their rank in the army. Yet they
were not satisfied. Their complaints were loud, the grievances and
the merits of the army recapitulated, and their demands high, even to
the alarm of all who had the interest of their country at heart, lest the
consequences of this mutinous sprit might be fatal to its future
tranquility.

The disbanding of an army and throwing a number of idle people at

once on the community always requires the most guarded, cautious,
and judicious steps. Congress, sensible of this, had immediately on
the news of peace recommended to General Washington the
measure of furloughing a number of commissioned and non-
commissioned officers. They were of the opinion that if a considerable
part of the soldiery who had enlisted for three years were sent from
the army in this way, it would be the most prudent method of
separating a body of men, usually dangerous to the liberties and
morals of their own country, when no foreign foe obliges them to unite
in the general defense.

But it was a measure not pleasing to the army, and had fomented the
uneasiness and increased the clamor among the officers, previous to
the audacious step of investing the congressional assembly, and
obliging them, under the threats of an armed force, to disperse for
their own personal safety. Yet this mutinous disposition did not appear
to have infected the whole army. Many of the soldiers were the
substantial yeomanry of the country. Many of the officers had stood in
the same grade of life, and were far from wishing to involve the
inhabitants of their native country in scenes of new confusion and
distress for the redress of their complaints or the payment of their
arrearages.

At the same time, the people at large generally thought that the
compensations engaged by Congress were equal to the services and
sufferings of the army, however meritorious. It was judged, that if held
up in a comparative view with the exertions, the sufferings, and the
dangers of men in other departments, that gratitude was not
exclusively due to the military line; but that others, who had with
vigilance and energy opposed the common enemy, were entitled to
some consideration in the public eye. Every sober and judicious man
considered patience and moderation requisites that ought to adorn
every public character and censured, in strong terms, the indulgence
of that restless and turbulent spirit that had recently appeared to
prevail in the army of the United States.
The public in general were soon confirmed in the opinion that the
intrigues of some of the officers were deep, ambitious, designing, and
pernicious. In the outset of the American Revolution, the institution of
ranks, the creation of nobles, the rearing a monarchy, or the
aggrandizement of a monarch, and the factitious ideas of aristocratic
birth had no existence in the minds of a rising republic or their army,
organized to oppose the encroachments of kings. These were ideas
afterwards suggested by aspiring individuals who had no prescriptive
rights by any superiority of birth, wealth, or education, to assume
dignified names or ennobled orders. By degrees, these views were
nurtured by certain designing characters and matured by
circumstances to which the inhabitants of the states had hitherto
been strangers.

But a connection with European powers, formed from necessity, kept

open by negotiation, and the intercourse strengthened by speculators
and men of pleasure, tainted the purity and simplicity of American
manners, long before the conclusion of the war. The friendships
formed in the field with a foreign army had their influence, and the
habits and opinions of military men, who had long been the servants
of monarchy or despotism, were adopted by a considerable part of
the army of the United States. Nor were some men of other
descriptions less fascinated with the splendor of courts and the
baubles of ambitious spirits, scepters, diadems, and crowns.
Doubtless, some of these had lent their cooperating influence to
undermine the beautiful fabric of republicanism, which Americans had
erected with enthusiastic fondness, and for which they had risked
ease, property, and life.

It may be observed that pure republicanism is cherished by the

philosopher in his closet and admired by the statesman in his theories
of government. Yet, when called into operation, the combinations of
interest, ambition, or party prejudice too generally destroy the
principle, though the name and the form may be preserved.
There is a change of manners, of sentiments, of principles, and of
pursuits which perhaps similar circumstances will in time produce, in
all ages and countries. But from the equality of condition to which
they had been used, from their modes of life, and from the character
and professions of its inhabitants; such a change in America was not
contemplated, nor could have been expected to approach, at so early
a period of her independence. But new ideas, from a rivalry of power
and a thirst for wealth, had prepared the way to corruption, and the
awakened passion were hurried to new images of happiness. The
simpler paths which they had trodden in pursuit of competence and
felicity were left to follow the fantastic fopperies of foreign nations,
and to sigh for the distinctions acquired by titles, instead of that real
honor which is ever the result of virtue.

A writer of celebrity has observed that "military commanders acquiring

fame and accustomed to receive the obedience of armies are in their
hearts generally enemies to the popular equality of republics." Thus,
the first step taken in the United States for the aggrandizement of
particular families by distinguished orders, and assumed nobility,
appeared to originate in the army; some of whom, as observed of the
ancient barons of England, "soon forgot the cause and the patriotism
of their ancestors, and insensibly became the servant of luxury of
government."

By the Articles of Confederation unanimously acceded to by each

legislature on the continent, the great American Republic admitted no
titles of honor, no ennobled or privileged orders. But willing to make
the experiment, and reap the first fruits of exclusive dignity, a self-
created rank was contemplated by some officers of the army, and an
order of military knighthood projected, before the disturbances at
Philadelphia, but not publicly avowed until after the insurrection was
subdued.

This institution embraced the whole body of officers belonging to the

army and navy, both French and Americans. The right of admitting as
honorary members persons of eminence of any nation was also
assumed. This adoption of honorary members gave the right only of
partaking present munificence, and the enjoyment of the honor during
their own lives, however they might have been distinguished in name
or character. A hereditary claim to the peerage of the Order of
Cincinnati, and the privileges annexed thereto, was confined solely to
the military line.

The Count de Rochambeau, the Duke de Noailles, and many of the

principal officers of the French army, and several other foreign
officers, whose term of service had been too short to admit a claim
according to the rules of the order were, however, adopted on its first
institution. The French ambassador and many other gentlemen bred
in the schools of monarchy in various parts of Europe, and even some
princes and crowned heads, were invited to dignify the order by
becoming honorary members.

This was a deep laid plan, which discovered sagacity to look forward,
genius to take advantage, and art to appropriate to themselves the
opening prospects of dignity and rank, which had fired the minds of
ambitious men. the ostensible design of this novel institution was
striking to the compassionate mind, and flattering to the lovers of
freedom among the American officers. many of them knew not
enough of the world and of the history and character of man to
suspect any latent mischief or any concealed object that must not yet
be divulged, for fear of disgusting the public ear. Others had
comprehensive ideas of the system, and with great complacency of
mind anticipated the honor of hereditary knighthood, entailed on their
posterity.

The members were invited to embody as a society of friends, to

perpetuate the memory of the Revolution, and to engage to be
vigilant in preserving inviolate the exalted rights and liberties of
human nature, for which they had fought and bled. On his initiation
into the society, each member was to advance a month's pay, in order
to begin a fund for the relief of any unfortunate family or distressed
individual, who did himself or whose father had belonged to the order.

They mutually engaged that this union should not be dissolved but
with their lives; and that their attachment and their honors should
descend to the eldest of their mail posterity, and in failure thereof, to
the collateral branches.

They were to be furnished with a diploma, and to appropriate to

themselves as a badge of their order, a golden medal, with a bald
eagle spread on the one side, and on the other a symbol and a motto
indicative of the dignity of their order. The medal was to be
suspended on a broad blue ribbon edged with white, designed to
intimate the union between America and France. This was to be hung
to a buttonhole of their vest.

As the officers of the American army had styled themselves of the

order and assumed the name of Cincinnatus, it might have been
expected that they would have imitated the humble and disinterested
virtues of the ancient Roman; that they would have retired satisfied
with their own efforts to save their country, and the competent
rewards it was ready to bestow, instead of ostentatiously assuming
hereditary distinctions and the insignia of nobility. But the eagle and
the ribbon dangled at the buttonhole of every youth who had for three
years borne an office in the army, and taught him to look down with
proud contempt on the patriot grown grey in the service of his
country.

Arduous indeed was the talk of raising, regulating, and maintaining an

army, to secure the freedom, the mediocrity, and the independent
spirit, as well as the name of Americans Those who had been long
engaged in this laborious work had never imagined, that any class of
the citizens of the United States would pant for peerages in the shade
of retirement, instead of practicing in their primeval state, the humble
virtues, and imitating the laudable manners of their ancestors.
The benevolent principles avowed in the declarations of the society,
allured many to unite with them who had no ideas of establishing an
hereditary rank of nobility in America. Their views were too
circumscribed, and perhaps too virtuous, to wish for

anything more than independence, retirement, and peace, and to

return to the plow or to the humbler occupations of their former life,
with the conscious disposition of doing good to their old associates, if
affliction should assail, or misfortunes render them, in any future day,
the objects of commiseration and beneficence. But America had
nurtured sons of boundless ambition, who thus early contemplated
stars, garters, and diadems, crowns, scepters, and the regalia of
kings, in the yet simple bosom of their country.

General Washington was looked up to as the head of the society,

though for a time he prudently declined the style of president or grand
master of the order, and chose to be considered only as an honorary
member. This might have been from an apprehension that it would
give a stab to his popularity, but more probably it was from a sense of
the impropriety of an assumption so incompatible with the principles
of a young republic. The commander of the armies of the United
States, however, after the Baron de Steuben had acted as grand
master of the order until October, 1783, publicly acknowledged and
subscribed himself the president of the Society of the Cincinnati.

It was observed by a writer in England that "this was the only blot
hitherto discovered in the character of this venerable hero." The same
writer adds "It is impossible, however, to exculpate him. If he
understood the tendency of his conduct, his ideas of liberty must
have been less pure and elevated than they have been represented;
and if he rushed into the measure blindfold, he must still be
considered as wanting in some degree that penetration and presence
of mind so necessary to complete his character." He was censured by
several opposed to such an institution, who wrote on the subject both
in Europe and America. It was considered as a blamable deviation in
him from the principles of the Revolution, which he had defended by
his sword, and appeared now ready to relinquish by his example.

The name of Washington was alone sufficient to render the institution

popular in the army; but neither his or any other name could sanction
the design in the eye of the sober republican, and other men of
moderate views in the common grades of life. These were tenacious
of the principles and the Articles of the Confederation, which
expressly forbade any rank or dignity to be conferred on the citizens of
the United States, either by princes abroad or self-created societies
at home. [Confederation, article 6].

Much less satisfied were many high-spirited individuals in the higher

classes of life. Ambassadors abroad, who had adopted a fondness
for nominal distinctions, members of Congress and state legislatures,
and many others who had acquired a taste for the external superiority
that wealth and titles bestow, could not be pleased to see themselves
and their children thus excluded from hereditary claim to the honors,
privileges, and emoluments of the first order of American nobility.
These asserted without hesitation that this self-created peerage of
military origin would throw an undue weight into the scale of the army;
while the sincere votaries to freedom and the natural equality of man
apprehended that this institution would give a fatal wound to the
liberties of America.

Many judicious observers of the story of mankind thought that the

United States had now, at the conclusion of the war, an opportunity to
make a fair experiment between the advantages of a republican form
of government and more despotic modes.

It is true, America had obtained her independence, and spurned at

every idea of kingly power. Yet, at this period it was difficult to
conjecture into what form of government the United States would
finally settle. Republicanism had been the order of the day. The
theory was beautiful and the system warmly advocated by many of
the best political writers. But the manners and the opinions of many
discovered that they had not entirely shaken off their prejudices in
favor of monarchy, under which their ancestors had suffered enough
to lead them to impress the wisest lessons on their posterity.

Some circumstances augured symptoms that Americans, like most

other nations, would succumb to the will of assumed superiority, and
by their servility justify the attempt to establish inequalities of rank;
and that they would relinquish with their rights, the spirit that ought to
support them; that the dignity of republican principles would, in some
not very distant day, be lost in the adulation of the sycophant,
trembling under the frown of despotic master.

This was consistent with the ideas of a sensible American writer on

the subject of the institution of the Cincinnati. He observes "that this
order was a deep laid plan, to beget and perpetuate family grandeur
in an aristocratic nobility, which might terminate at last in monarchical
tyranny. But (adds the same writer) never let so foul a stain be
fastened on the human character as that the very men who, with
unfading honor, rescued their country from the galling yoke of
foreigners, should lay the corner stone for erecting a tyranny
themselves. Let not their example provide that all that Plato, Sidney,
and Locke have said and others have bequeathed to posterity on the
subject of political happiness was no more than ideal pictures of a fine
imagination." [Edanus Burke, esquire, chief justice of the state of
South Carolina.]

The Baron de Steuben and many other foreign officers were very
active and zealous in promoting this new institution. It was, however,
generally thought it originated more in the ambition of some
American, than in the influence of any European officers; and
perhaps the society was not more indebted to any individual who was
a native son of America for this dignified innovation, than to Major
General Knox, a man of extensive ambition, who had imbibed ideas
of distinction too extravagant for a genuine republican.

Mr. Knox had not had the advantages of a literary education; but his
natural inquisitive disposition and attention to books rendered him a
well-informed, agreeable man, with ingratiating accomplishment. His
love of military parade, and the affability of his manners brought him
forward to the command of a cadet company in Boston before the
commencement of the American war. Naturally of a complacent
disposition, his jovial humor and easy deportment rendered him
acceptable in all companies, and made him a favorite with the
commander in chief, even before his talents as a soldier were called
into exercise. With an assemblage of pleasing qualities, it is not
strange that he rose rapidly in the military line. He commanded the
artillery department for several years before the conclusion of the
war; and performed his duty in this line with courage and vigilance,
which did honor to this military character.

Towards the close of the war, many gentlemen had indulged the most
expensive modes of life, without resources sufficient to support the
pernicious habits, which they had adopted from a wild fondness for
novel ideas of rank, titles, and privileged orders, little short of men of
princely education, birth, and expectations. These probably might
think that some badge of hereditary nobility might give consequence
to certain characters and families. While they might have sagacity to
see that new exigencies might arise that would open new sources of
wealth to favored individuals, sufficient to maintain the pageantry,
assumed by self-originated titles and distinguished orders.

Friendship and brotherly kindness, patriotism and charity were held up

as the basis of the institution; and however the pride of man might be
flattered by the ideas of a frivolous honorary title, attached to his
family forever, doubtless the urbanity of Mr. Knox, as well as many
other gentlemen, members of the society, was gratified more by the
expectation that much utility would redound to a very large class in the
community who might be benefited by the donations of the society,
though they reaped none of the honors of the institution.

But it was not long before the people were generally aroused from
their supineness by the alarming aspect of these pretensions of the
officers of the army. Instead of an affectionate respect to them, which
had been generally felt, or any new veneration awakened toward the
new military nobles, a universal disgust was intermingled with the
apprehensions of danger. This innovation was considered as striking
at once at the equality, liberty, simplicity, and interest of the nation at
large. The legislatures of several states announced their
disapprobation of the institution, in strong and pointed language.
They declared it an unjustifiable, dangerous, and bold presumption;
and threatened, if persisted in, to manifest stronger tokens of their
displeasure against the officers of the army, for separating
themselves from their fellow citizens and erecting a pedestal on
which they might be elevated to distinguished rank, and grades of
honor inhibited by the Confederacy of the States, and the principles
of the Revolution.

The state of Rhode Island carried their resentment still farther. They
cut them of from the usual privileges which had been enjoyed by the
subjects of the state, and annulled their claims to the common right of
citizenship by declaring that any who were members of the Cincinnati
should be considered as incapable of holding any office under the
government. In short, so general was the dissatisfaction expressed at
the appearance of a deep laid foundation for building up a strong
aristocracy, if not a monarchy, on the ruins of the American Republic,
that at the meeting of the Order of Cincinnati in May, 1784, they
withdrew, or rather drew a veil over, some of their former pretensions.
They apparently renounced the idea of hereditary distinctions, and
several other obnoxious claims, but in reality they relinquished
nothing.

They afterwards continued the general and state meetings, the former
once in three years, and the latter annually, retained their badges of
honor, invited the eldest sons of deceased officers to accept the
diploma and to wear the eagle of their fathers, to associate with them
on all public occasions, and to keep up the ancestral claim, in spite of
the disapprobation of most of their countrymen. Their funds increased
rapidly. According to their articles, the yearly interest only was to be
annually appropriated to charitable purposes. this was much more
than expended. Thus the wealth of the society was continually
enhancing; and by their riches and their numbers they were indeed a
formidable body, capable of becoming a preponderating weight in the
political scale of their country, in whatever exigencies it might
hereafter be in involved.

There was undoubtedly much merit in the conduct of the American

officers and soldiers through the war. There was also much to
apprehend from them by the existing circumstances at the close of
hostilities. Various combinations and circumstances rendered it
improbable that such a corps of ambitious spirits, hardened in the
field of valor and enterprise, should at once return to their former
occupations and sit down as quiet citizens, without intriguing or
intermeddling too much, and claiming a kind of prescriptive right to
dictate in the civil administration of government.

The distressed state of American finances was alarming. Congress

was without revenue, resource, or fiscal arrangements that promised
to be sufficiently productive; without power or energy to enforce any
effectual measure, until the consent of each individual state was
obtained. There had been a violent opposition to a proposal for
raising a revenue, by an impost of 5 per cent on all goods imported
from foreign countries. As this was an experiment, it was limited to 25
years. Had the expedient been adopted, it might have prevented
many subsequent difficulties and embarrassments that took place
previous to, as well as after, the adoption of a permanent Constitution
of the United States of America.

It was said, however, by some very wise and judicious statesmen,

that this imperceptible mode of drawing money from the pockets of
the people was better suited to more despotic forms of government,
than to the free and independent spirit that had produced the
Confederacy of the American States; that more open measures, and
even direct taxes were more consistent with republican opinions and
manners, than the secret drains of imposts and excises, which might
bankrupt a nation, admit the delusory dreams of wealth and
independence.

Though this opinion was not universal, yet it had it influence so far as
to retard the measure. Rhode Island rejected it entirely.
Massachusetts and some other sates threw impediments in the way;
and finally, no effectual step was yet taken to restore public credit, or
to quiet the murmurs of the army, just on the point of dissolution. The
sate, thus incapable of satisfying their just demands, had everything to
fear from that "peremptory and untemporizing spirit which is usually
the fruit of a series of military service."

America now beheld an existing clamorous army, on the point of

dissolution, or about to assume military domination. There now
appeared a large body of proud, ambitious officers, unsatisfied wit the
honor of victory, and impatient under the promise of pecuniary
compensation as soon as the exigencies of public affairs would
admit. many of them were needy from the delay of payment for
meritorious military services an sufferings. They were now (as
observed) fighting for distinction, aiming to establish hereditary rank
among themselves, and eager for wealth sufficient to support the
taste and style of nobility; a taste newly adopted by an intercourse
with foreigners of high rank, and habits of expense an dissipation
under monarchic governments.

It was obvious to everyone that dignified ranks, ostentatious titles,

splendid governments, and supernumerary expensive offices to be
supported by the labor of the poor or the taxation of all the
conveniences of the more wealthy, of the aggrandizement of a few,
were not the objects of the patriot in the cabinet; nor was this the

contemplation of the soldier in the field, when the veins of the children
of America were first opened, and the streams of life poured out, both
on the borders and the interior of the United States, against the
combinations of civilized and savage warriors. The views of the
virtuous of every class in those exertions, were for the purchase of
freedom, independence, and competence, to themselves and their
posterity.

At the same time, the Congress of the United States as without

sufficient powers by the old Confederation, either to restrain the most
dangerous irregularities, or to command public justice. They were
also deprived by absence, ineligibility, or death of the abilities of many
of the members who first composed that honorable body.

Some men had been introduced in their stead, whose ideas of public
liberty were very different; who had neither the capacity, the
comprehension, nor even the wishes to establish the freedom of their
country on the basis of equal liberty, and the renunciation of
monarchic principles. Some of them had always been men of
doubtful character; others had decidedly favored the claims of the
British King and Parliament.

The several governments involved in a weight of public debt; the

people embarrassed in their private resources, from the expensive
exigencies of an eight years' war; and every difficulty enhanced by
being long without a medium of stability, without confidence in the
faith of public bodies, or securities that could be relied on in private
contracts -- the public mind was now agitated like a forest shaken in a
tempest, and stood trembling at the magnitude of opening prospects,
and the retrospect of past events.

We have seen the seeds of animosity and dissension were sown

among themselves before the American army as disbanded;
dangerous symptoms, indeed, in a young republic, just setting out for
itself, with the command and entire jurisdiction of an immense
territory, while yet no digested system was formed, or seriously
contemplated but by few, for governing a newborn nation, still in its
pupilage with regard to the ends, the origin, and the most perfect
mode of civil government.

America was a country remarkable for its rapid population, not yet so
much from the ingress of foreigners, as in consequence of the
operations of nature, where a people are not corrupted by habits of
effeminacy, where subsistence for a family was easily acquired, and
where few factitious wants had yet cankered the minds of the great
mass of the people, and dislodged that complacency which results
from competence and content. Many, indeed, at the present period,
seemed to have lost sight of their primeval ideas and obligations; yet
they were not eradicated from the

intelligent, the virtuous, and well-informed mind. The genial flame of

freedom and independence blazed in its original luster in the breasts
of many, long after the termination of the Revolutionary War.

After this period, the American continent was viewed by all nations as
a theater just erected, where the drama was but begun. While the
actors of the Old World, having run through every species of pride,
luxury, venality, and vice, their characters are become less interesting
than those of the new. America may stand as a monument of
observation, and an asylum of freedom. The eyes of all Europe were
upon her. She was placed in a rank that subjected her to the
inspection of mankind abroad, to the jealousy of monarchs, and the
envy of nations, all watching for her halting, to avail themselves of her
mistakes, and to reap advantages from her difficulties, her
embarrassments, her inexperience, or her follies.

Perhaps at no period of her existence was America viewed with an

eye of higher

veneration than at the present, both by statesmen and princes. At the

same time, the philosopher in his retirement contemplates, and the
lovers of mankind of every description behold, the shackles of
ancestral pride annihilated, in a respectable portion of the globe. Yet,
it may be observed that it will require all the wisdom and firmness of
the most sagacious heads, united with the most upright hearts, to
establish a form of government for an extensive nation, whose
independence has been recently acknowledged by Great Britain.
This must be done on a just medium, that may control the
licentiousness of liberty, and the daring encroachments of arbitrary
power; a medium that may check the two extremes of democracy,
and the overbearing influence of a young aristocracy, that may start
up from a sudden acquisition of wealth, where it had never before
been tasted.

But after all the speculative opinions with regard to government that
have occupied the minds and pens of men, before many years roll
over, some aspiring genius, without establishing the criterion or
waiting the reward of real merit, may avail himself of the weakness,
the divisions, and perhaps the distresses of America, to make himself
the designator and the fountain of honor and expectation. Such a
sovereign without a crown, or the title of king, with his favorites and
his instigators about him, may not be a less dangerous animal, than
the monarch whose brow is decorated by the splendor of a diadem.

These are, however, ideas that may vanish with time; or if realized, it
must e to the grief of the genuine patriot and the misery of thousands,
who now dream only of freedom, wealth, and happiness, beneath the
protection of just, equal, and lenient governments of their own,
without any commixture of foreign influence or domination.

______________________
Chapter Thirty: A survey of the situation of America on the conclusion
of the war with Britain. Observations on the Declaration of
Independence. Withdraw of the British troops from New York. A few
observations on the detention of the western posts. The American
army disbanded, after the commander in chief had addressed the
public and taken leave of his fellow soldiers. General Washington
resigns his commission to Congress.

We have seen the banners of Albion displayed, and the pendants of

her proud navy waving over the waters of the western world, and
threatening terror, servitude, or desolation to resisting millions. we
have see through the tragic tale of war, all political connection with
Great Britain broken off, the authority of the parent state renounced,
and the independence of the American states sealed by the definitive
treaty. The mind now willingly draws a veil over the unpleasing part of
the drama, and indulges the imagination in future prospects of peace
and felicity; when the soldier shall retreat from the field, lay by the
sword, and resume the implements of husbandry -- the mechanic
return to his former occupation, and the merchant rejoice in the
prosperous view of commerce; when trade shall not be restricted by
the unjust or partial regulations of foreigners; and when the ports of
America shall be thrown open to all the world, and an intercourse
kept free, to reap the advantages of commerce extended to all
nations.

The young government of this newly established nation had, by the

recent articles of peace, a claim to a jurisdiction over a vast territory,
reaching from the St. Mary's on the south, to the River St. Croix, the
extreme boundary on the east, containing a line of post roads of 1800
miles, exclusive of the northern and western wilds, but partially
settled, and whose limits have not yet been explored. Not the Lycian
League, nor any of the combinations of Grecian states, encircled
such an extent of territory; nor does modern history furnish any
example of a confederacy of equal magnitude and respectability with
that of the United states of America.

We look back with astonishment when we reflect that it was only in the
beginning of the seventeenth century, that the first Europeans landed
in Virginia, and that nearly at the same time, a few wandering
strangers coasted about the unknown Bay of Massachusetts, until
they found a footing in Plymouth. Only a century and a half had
elapsed before their numbers an their strength accumulated, until they
bade defiance to foreign oppression, and stood ready to meet the
power of Britain, with courage and magnanimity scarcely paralleled
by the progeny of nations, who had been used to every degree of
subordination and obedience.

The most vivid imagination cannot realize the contrast, when it

surveys the vast surface of America now enrobed with fruitful fields,
and the rich herbage of the pastures, which had been so recently
covered with a thick mattress of words; when it beholds the cultivated
vista, the orchards and the beautiful garden which have arisen within
the limits of the Atlantic states, where the deep embrowned,
melancholy forest had from time immemorial sheltered only the
wandering savage; where the sweet notes of the feathered race, that
follow the track of cultivation, had never chanted their melodious
songs; the wild waste had been a haunt only for the hoarse birds of
prey, and the prowling quadrupeds that filled the forest.

In a country like America, including a vast variety of soil and climate,

producing everything necessary for convenience and pleasure, every
man might be lord of his own acquisition. It was a country where the
standard of freedom had recently been erected to allure the liberal-
minded to her shores, and to receive and to protect the persecuted
subjects of arbitrary power, who might there seek an asylum from the
chains of servitude to which they had been subjected in any part of
the glove. Here it might rationally be expected that beside the natural
increase, the emigrations to a land of such fair promise of the
blessings of plenty, liberty, and peace, to which multitudes would
probably resort, there would be exhibited in a few years, a population
almost beyond the calculation of figures.

The extensive tract of territory above described, on the borders of the

Atlantic, had, as we have seen, been divided into several distinct
governments, under the control of the Crown of Great Britain. These
governments were now united in a strong confederacy, absolutely
independent of all foreign domination. The several states retained
their own legislative powers. They were proud of their individual
independence, tenacious of their republican principles, and newly
emancipated from the degrading ideas of foreign control, and the
sceptered hand of monarchy. With al these distinguished privileges,
deeply impressed with the ideas of internal happiness, we shall see
they grew jealous of each other and soon after the peace, even of the
powers of the several governments erected by themselves. they were
eager for the acquisition of wealth, an the possession of the new
advantages dawning on their country, from their friendly connections
abroad, and their abundant resources at home

At the same time that these wayward appearances began early to

threaten their internal felicity, the inhabitants of America were, in
general, sensible that the freedom of the people, the virtue of society,
and the stability of their commonwealth could only be preserved by
the strictest union; and that the independence of the United States
must be secured by an undeviating adherence to the principles that
produced the Revolution.

These principles were grounded on the natural equality of man their

right of adopting their own modes of government, the dignity of the
people, and that sovereignty which cannot be ceded either to
representatives or to kings. But, as a certain writer has expressed it,
"Powers may be delegated for particular purposes; but the
omnipotence of society, if anywhere, is in itself. Princes, senates, or
parliaments are not proprietors or masters. They are subject to the
people, who form and support that society by an eternal law of
nature, which has ever subjected a part to the whole." [See Lessons
to a Prince, by an anonymous writer.]

These were opinions congenial to the feelings, and were disseminated

by the pens of political writers; of Otis, Dickinson, Quincy, [The
characters of Dickenson and Otis are well known, but he early death
of Mr. Quincy prevented his name from being conspicuous in the
history of American worthies. He was a gentleman of abilities and
principles which qualified him to be eminently useful in the great
contest to obtain and support the freedom of his country. He had
exerted his eloquence and splendid talents for this purpose, until the
premature hand of death deprived society of a man whose genius so
well qualified him for the investigation of the claims and the defense
of the rights of mankind. He died on his return from a voyage to
Europe a short time before war was actually commenced between
Great Britain

and the colonies. The writings of the above-named gentleman,

previous to the commencement of the war, are still in the hands of
many.] and many others, who with pathos and energy had defended
the liberties of America, previous to the commencement of hostilities.

On these principles, a due respect must ever be paid to the general

will; to the right in the people to dispose of their own moneys by a
representative voice; and to liberty of conscience without religious
tests. On these principles, frequent elections, and rotations of office
were generally thought necessary, without precluding the
indispensable subordination an obedience due to rulers of their own
choice. From the principles, manners, habits, and education of the
Americans, they expected from their rules, economy in expenditure
(both public and private), simplicity of manners, pure morals, and
undeviating probity. These they considered as the emanations of
virtue, grounded on a sense of duty, an a veneration for the Supreme
Governor of the universe, to whom the dictates of nature teach all
mankind to pay homage, and whom they had been taught to worship
according to revelation and the divine precepts of the Gospel. Their
ancestors had rejected and fled from the impositions and restrictions
of men vested either with princely or priestly authority. they equally
claimed the exercise of private judgment and the rights of
conscience, unfettered by religious establishments in favor of
particular denominations.

They expected a simplification of law; early defined distinctions

between executive, legislative, and judiciary powers; the right of trial
by jury, and a sacred regard to personal liberty and the protection of
private property, were opinions embraced by all who ha any just ideas
of government, law, equity, or morals.

These were the rights of men, the privileges of Englishmen, and the
claim of Americans. these were the principles of the Saxon ancestry
of the British Empire, and of all the free nations of Europe, previous to
the corrupt systems introduced by intriguing and ambitious
individuals.

These were the opinions of Ludlow and Sydney, of Milton and

Harrington. These were principles defended by the pen of the
learned, enlightened, and renowned Locke; and even Judge
Blackstone, in his excellent commentaries on the laws of England,
has observed "that trial by jury and the liberties of the people went out
together." Indeed, most of the learned and virtuous writers that have
adorned the pages of literature from generation to generation, in an
island celebrated for the erudite and comprehensive genius of its
inhabitants, have enforced these rational and liberal opinions.

These were the principles which the ancestors of the inhabitants of

the United States brought with them from the polished shores of
Europe, to the dark wilds of America. These opinions were deeply
infixed in the bosoms of their posterity, and nurtured with zeal, until
necessity obliged them to announce the Declaration of Independence
of the United States. We have seen that the instrument which
announced the final separation of the American colonies from Great
Britain was drawn by the elegant and energetic pen of Jefferson, with
that correct judgment, precision, and dignity, which have ever marked
his character.

The Declaration of Independence, which has done so much honor to

the then existing Congress, to the inhabitants of the United States,
and to the genius and heart of the gentleman who drew it, in the
belief, and under the awe of the Divine Providence, ought to be
frequently read by the rising youth of the American states, as a
palladium of which they should never lose sight, so long as they wish
to continue a free and independent people.

This celebrated paper, which will be admired in the annals of every

historian, begins with an assertion that all men are created equal and
endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, which
nature and nature's God entitle them to claim; and, after appealing to
the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of their intentions, it
concludes in the name of the good people of the colonies, by their
representatives assembled in Congress, they publish and declare
that they are and of right ought to be Free and Independent States. In
the name of the people, the fountain of all just authority, relying on the
protection of Divine Providence, they mutually pledged themselves to
maintain these rights, with their lives, fortunes, and

honor.

These principles the Sons of Columbia had supported by argument,

defended by the sword, and have now secured by negotiation, as far
as the pledges of national faith and honor will bind society to a strict
adherence to equity. This, however, is seldom longer than it appears
to be the interest of nations, or designing individuals of influence and
power. Virtue, in the sublimest sense, operates only on the minds of a
chosen few. In their breasts, it will ever find its own reward.
In all ages, mankind are governed less by reason and justice than by
interest and passion. The caprice of a day, or the impulse of a
moment will blow them about as with a whirlwind, and bear them
down the current of folly, until awakened by their misery. By these,
they are often led to breaches of the most solemn engagements, the
consequences of which may involve whole nations in wretchedness.
It is devoutly to be hoped that the conduct of America will never stand
on record as a striking example of the truth of this observation. She
has fought for her liberties. She has purchased them by the most
costly sacrifices. We have seen her embark in the enterprise with a
spirit that gained her the applause of mankind. The United States
have procured their own emancipation from foreign thralldom, by the
sacrifice of their heroes and their friends. They are now ushered on to
the temple of peace, who holds out her wanted and beckons them to
make the wisest improvement of the advantages they had acquired
by their patience, perseverance, and valor.

They had now only to close the scenes of war by a quiet dispersion of
their own armies, and to witness the last act of hostile parade, the
decampment of the battalions of Britain, and the retirement of the
potent fleets that had long infested their coasts. This was to have
been done at an earlier day. It was expected that on the ratification of
the definitive treaty, there would have been an immediate evacuation
of all the posts which had been held by the British within the limits of
the United States.

The seventh article of the treaty expressly stipulated that "His

Britannic Majesty shall, with all convenient speed and without causing
any destruction or carrying away any negroes or other property of the
American inhabitants, 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 artillery that
may be therein; and shall also order and cause all archive, records,
deed, and papers 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."

General Carleton had assigned his reasons for delay relative to the
evacuation of New York, in his correspondence with the president of
Congress and General Washington. Some satisfactory arrangements
were, however, soon after made, relative to the loyalists, the
exchange of prisoners, and several other points, for which the reader
is referred to the Journals of Congress. When this was done, a
detachment from the American army, under the command of General
Knox, was directed to enter New York, in order to prevent any
irregularities, confusion, or insult among the citizens on the important
movement now about to take place.

On November 25, 1783, all the British, Hessian, and other foreign
troops in the pay of His Britannic Majesty were drawn off from the city
of New York. General Carleton embarked the same day; and Admiral
Digby sailed for England with the remainder of the British fleet that
had for many years invaded the sea coasts of America. Thus the
shores of the Atlantic states that had so long been alarmed by the
terrific thunders of the British navy, and ravage by hostile squadrons,
were let in repose. In consequence of this much desired event, a
general joy pervaded the borders, from Georgia to the extreme
boundaries of the New England states.

No sufficient apology was, however, yet made for the detention of the
western posts. They were long retained; and this breach of faith was
afterwards attended with very important consequences. Under
various frivolous pretenses of non-compliance on the part of the
United States, with some articles stipulated in the definitive treaty of
peace, a long line of posts in the western territory were not
relinquished.

We have seen the seventh article of the treaty, that the King of
England was to have immediately withdrawn not only his fleets and
armies from the sea coasts, but that all the garrisons, forts, and
places of arms within the United States should at the same time have
been evacuated. But the British interest and trade with the natives of
the wilderness in the extensive territories from the Mississippi to the
Allegheny Mountains on the River Ohio could not easily be
relinquished by their government. The forest of Michillimackinak and
Detroit, the posts on Lake Erie, Niagara, Oswego, and several others
were held by British officers and troops, and a jurisdiction long
exercised over all the country in the vicinity, under the direction of
Colonel Simcoe, afterwards governor of Upper Canada.

The disposition of this man toward the United Sates was no less cruel
and savage than that of the fierce uncultivated natives beyond the
lakes. This we have seen him display when a marauding partisan in
the Jerseys, Virginia, and other places. He was now left at full liberty
to indulge this disposition among savages whose ferocity and cruelty
seemed to be perfectly congenial to the feelings of his own heart,
when, while in command there, he instigated the fierce and blood-
thirsty warriors to make incursions on the frontier settlements.

The hostile character of Governor Simcoe, the licentiousness and

barbarity of the borderers, both European and American, united with
the interests of Britain and the weakness of an infant government in
America, some time after the present period, produced a horrid India
war, in which, assisted by British soldiers in disguise, many brave
officers of the old army and some of the flower of the American youth
perished in the wilderness.

Those subsequent circumstances in American story, which have been

cursorily mentioned above, suggest the reflection that it might have
been happy for the United States, and happier for the individual "who
weeps alone its lot of woe," if, instead of extending their views over
the boundless desert, a Chinese wall had been stretched long the
Appalachian ridges, that might have kept the nations within the
boundaries of nature. This would have prevented the incalculable
loss of life and property and have checked the lust of territory, wealth,
and that ambition which has poured out streams of innocent blood on
the forlorn mountains. The lives of our young heroes were too rich a
price for the purchase of the acres of the savages, even could the
nations be extinguished who certainly have a prior right to the
inheritance. This is a theme on which some future historians may
more copiously descant.

The acquisition and possession of territory seems to be a passion

inwoven in the bosom of man. We see it from the peasant who owns
but a single acre, to the prince who commands kingdoms, and wishes
to extend his domains over half the globe. This is thought necessary
at some times to distance troublesome neighbors, at

others to preserve their own independence. But if the spring of action

is traced, it may generally be found in the inordinate thirst for the
possession of power and wealth.

A writer of celebrity has observed, "The enlargement of territory by

conquest is not only no a just object of war, but, in the greater part of
the instances in which it is attempted, not even desirable. It is
certainly not desirable where it adds nothing to the numbers, the
enjoyments, or the security of the conquerors. What, commonly, is
gained to a nation by the annexing of new dependencies or the
subjugation of other countries to its dominions but a wider frontier to
defend, more interfering claims to vindicate, more quarrels, more
enemies, more rebellions to encounter, a greater force to keep up by
sea and land, more services to provide for, and more establishments
to pay? Were it true that the grandeur of the prince is magnified by
those exploits, the glory which is purchased and the ambition which is
gratified by the distress of one country, without adding tot he
happiness of another, which at the same time enslaves the new and
impoverishes the ancient part of the empire, by whatever names it
may be known or flattered, ought to be an object of universal
execration." [Paley's Moral Philosophy.]
These are the reflections of a philosopher. Princes and statesmen
view things in a very different light. The expense of either treasure or
blood, the waste of human life, the anguish of the afflicted bosom, or
the tears wrong from the eye of sorrow have little weight in the scale
of ambition, whose object is the extension of territory and power of
the utmost of their limits, however contrary to the laws of nature and
benevolence.

Perhaps neither reason nor policy could justify the American

government in offensive war on the natives of the interior of the
western territory; but the detention of the posts on the borders by the
British obliged them, after peace took place, to make some military
defense against the incursions of the savages on the frontiers, the
consequences of which will be seen hereafter.

We have already observed that New York was relinquished and the
British forces withdrawn from the Atlantic states only, and the further
adjustment relative to the outposts left to the decision of a future day.
[The defense made by the British for the breach of treaty in the
detention of the western posts may be seen at large in a
correspondence since published between Mr. Jefferson, The
American Secretary of State, and Mr. Hammond, the British
plenipotentiary to the United States; on which a British writer
observed to his countrymen, 'Your diplomatists have shrunk before
the reasonings of Jefferson."]

Immediately after the British armament was withdrawn from Nee York,
all hostile arrangements disappeared, and the clarion of war ceased
to grate the ear of humanity; and notwithstanding the obstacles that
had arisen, and the dangers feared from the face of general
discontent among the officers and soldiers, the American army was
disbanded with far less difficulty than was apprehended. The
commander in chief, and many of the officers, conducted the
business of conciliation and obedience, after the late mutiny and
insurrection, with the most consummate judgment and prudence; and
the whole American army was dismissed in partial detachments,
without tumult or disorder.

The merits of the commander in chief of the united armies of America

have been duly noticed through the preceding pages of this work, in
their order of time; and ample justice has been done to the integrity
and valor, to the moderation and humanity, of this distinguished
character. The virtues and talents which he really possessed have
been appreciated in a measure consistent with a sacred regard to
truth. Imputed genius and luster of abilities ascribed beyond the
common ratio of human capacity and perfection were the result of his
commanding good fortune, which attached to his person and
character the partiality of all ranks and classes of men.

An exclusive claim to the summit of human excellent had been yielded

as a kind of prescriptive right to this worthy and justly venerated
citizen, from action, from gratitude, and from the real services
rendered his country, under existing circumstances that had never
before and perhaps never will again take place. His remarkable
retention of popular favor and goodwill carried him through a long and
perilous war without a change in public opinion or the loss of
confidence in the commander first appointed by the Congress of
America to meet the veterans of Britain and other European powers
on hostile ground.

Thus, the renowned WASHINGTON, without arrogating any undue

power to himself, which success and popularity offered, and which
might have swayed many more designing and interested men to have
gratified their own ambition at the expense of the liberties of America,
finished his career of military glory with decided magnanimity,
unimpeached integrity, and the most judicious steps to promote the
tranquility of his country. He had previously published a circular letter
to each governor of the individual states. This as an elegant address,
replete with useful observations and excellent advice to the
inhabitants of the United States, in their social, civil and military
capacities. Nor did he neglect on all occasions, after the approach of
peace, to inculcate on the soldiery and to impress on the minds of the
people the necessity of union, subordination, economy, and justice, in
the punctual discharge of all contracts, both public and private.

In full possession of the confidence of the people, the applause of his

country, the love of the army, the esteem of foreigners, and the warm
friendship and respect of the Gallican nation, whose armies and
treasures had aided him to glory and victory, General Washington
disbanded the troops without noise, inconvenience, or any apparent
murmur at his measures. By order of the commander in chief, the
peace was celebrated at New York on December 1, 1783, with high
demonstrations of satisfaction and joy; an on the 23rd of the same
month, General Washington resigned his commission to Congress,
and, after acting so conspicuous a part on the theater of war, retired
from public scenes and public men, with a philosophic dignity
honorary to himself and to human nature.

Before the separation of the army, the general took a very affectionate
leave of his brave and faithful soldiers, and of each of the officers
singly. His farewell to his brave associates through the perilous
scenes of danger and was attended with singular circumstances of
affection and attachment. His address to the army was warm,
energetic, and impressive. While the sensibility of the commander in
chief appeared in his countenance, it was reciprocated in the faces of
both officers and soldiers; and in the course of this solemn adieu, the
big tear stole down the cheeks of men of courage and hardihood,
long inured to scenes of slaughter and distress, which too generally
deaden the best feelings of the human heart. [General Washington's
farewell orders to the army of the United States may be seen in Note
5, at the end of this chapter.]

Congress was then sitting at Annapolis, where they received the

resignation of the magnanimous and disinterested commander of the
army of the United States with the same emotions of veneration and
affection that had agitated the breast of the soldier. He had refused
all pecuniary compensation for his services, except what was
sufficient for his necessary expenditures, and laid his accounts before
Congress. He then hastened with all possible celerity to his peaceful
mansion in the state of Virginia. There his return was hailed by the
joyous acclamations of his friend, his neighbors, his servants, and the
crown of his domestic felicity, his amiable

partner. Mrs. Washington had long signed for the return of her hero,
whom she adored as the savior of her counted and loved as the
husband of her fond affection. In this lady's character was blended
that sweetness of manners that at once engaged the partiality of the
stranger, soothed the sorrows of the afflicted, and relieved the
anguish of poverty, even in the manner of extending her charitable
hand to the sufferer.

Thus possessed of all the virtues that adorn her sex, Mrs. Washington
now contemplated the completion of her happiness; and observed
afterwards, in a letter to the author, that she little thought when the
war was finished that any circumstance could possibly happen to call
the general into public life again; that she anticipated that from that
moment they should have grown old together, in solitude and
tranquility. This, my dear madam, as the first and fondest wish of my
heart." [Mrs. Washington's letter to Mrs. Warren, 1789.]

But General Washington had yet much to do on the theater of public

action; much for his own fame, and much for the extrication of his
country from difficulties apprehended by some, but not yet realized.

America has fought for the boon of liberty. She has successfully and
honorably obtained it. She has now a rank among the nations. It was
now the duty of the wise and patriotic characters who had by
inconceivable labor and exertion obtained the prize, to guard on
every side that it might not be sported away by the folly of the people
or the intrigue or deception of their rulers. They had to watch at all
points that her dignity was not endangered, nor her independence
renounced by too servilely copying either the fashionable vices or the
political errors of those countries where the inhabitants are become
unfit for any character but that of master and

slave.

Thus, after the dissolution of the American army, the withdrawing of

the French troops, the retirement of General Washington, and the
retreat of the fleets and armies of the King of Great Britain, a
solemnity and stillness appeared, which was like the general pause of
nature before the concussion of an earthquake. The state of men's
mind seemed for a short time to palsied by the retrospect of dangers
encountered to break off the fetters and the hazards surmounted to
sweep away the claims and cut the leading strings in which they had
been held by the crown of Britain.

But though the connection was now dissolved, and the Gordian Knot
of union between Great Britain and America cut in sunder; though the
independence of the United States was, by the treaty, clearly
established on the broad basis of liberty; yet the Americans felt
themselves in such a state of infancy that as a child just learning to
walk, they were afraid of their own movements. Their debts were
unpaid, their governments unsettled, and the people out of breath by
their long struggle for the freedom and independence of their
country. They were become poor from the loss of trade, the neglect
of their usual occupations, and the drains from every quarter for the
support of a long and expensive war.

From the versatility of human affairs and the encroaching spirit of

man, it was yet uncertain when and how the states would be
tranquilized, and the union consolidated, under wise, energetic, and
free modes of government; or whether such, if established, would be
administered agreeable to laws founded on the beautiful theory of
republicanism, depictured in the closets of philosophers and idolized
in the imagination of most of the inhabitants of America.

It is indeed true that from a general attention to early education, the

people of the United States were better informed in many branches of
literature than the common classes of men in most other countries.
Yet many of them had but a superficial

knowledge of mankind. They were ignorant of the intrigues of courts,

and though convinced of the necessity of government, did not fully
understand its nature or origin. They had generally supposed that
there was little to do but shake off the yoke

of foreign domination and annihilate the name of king.

They were not generally sensible that most established modes of

strong government are usually the consequences of fraud or violence
against the systems of democratic theorists. They were not sensible
that from age to age the people are flattered, deceived, or threatened
until the hoodwinked multitude set their own seals to a renunciation of
their privileges, and with their own hands rivet the chains of servitude
on their posterity. They were totally fearless of the intrigues or the
ambition of their own countrymen, which might in time render fruitless
the expense of their blood and their treasures. These they had freely
lavished to secure their equality of condition, their easy modes of
subsistence, and their exemption from public burdens beyond the
necessary demands for the support of a free and equal government.
But it was not long before they were awakened to new energies by
convulsions both at home and abroad.

New created exigencies or more splendid modes of government that

might hereafter be adopted had not yet come within the reach of their
calculations Of these, few had yet formed any adequate ideas, and
fewer indeed were sensible that though the name of liberty delights
the ear, and tickles the fond pride of man, it is a jewel much oftener
the plaything of his imagination than a possession of real stability. It
maybe acquired today in all the triumph of independent feelings, but
perhaps tomorrow the world may be convinced that mankind know
not how to make a proper use of the prize, generally bartered in a
short time, as a useless bauble, to the first officious master that will
take the burden from the mind, by laying another on the shoulders of
ten-fold weight.

This is the usual course of human conduct, however painful the

reflection may be to the patriot in retirement and to the philosopher
absorbed in theoretic disquisitions on human liberty, or the portion of
natural and political freedom to which man has a claim. The game of
deception is played over and over to mislead the judgment of men,
and work on their enthusiasm, until by their own consent, hereditary
crowns and distinctions are fixed and some scion of royal descent is
entailed on them forever. Thus by habit they are ready to believe that
mankind in general are incapable of the enjoyment of that liberty
which nature seems to prescribe and that the mass of the people
have not the capacity nor the right to choose their own masters.

The generous an disinterested of all nations must, however, wish to

see the American Republic fixed on such a stable basis as to become
the admiration of the world. Future generations will then look back
with gratitude on the era which wafted their ancestors from the
European shores. They will never forget the energetic struggles of
their father to secure the natural rights of men. These are improved in
society and strengthened y civil compacts. These have been
established in the United States by a race of independent spirits who
have freed their posterity from the feudal vassalage of hereditary
lords. It is to be hoped that the grim shades of despotic kings

will never hover in the clouds of the American hemisphere to bedizen

the heads of the sons of Columbia, by imaginary ideas of the splendid
beams of royalty.
Let it never be said of such a favored nation as America had been, as
was observed by an ancient historian, on the rise, the glory, and the
fall of the republic of Athens, that "the inconstancy of the people was
the most striking characteristic of its history." We have, with the
historian who depictured the Athenian character, viewed with equal
astonishment the valor of our soldiers and the penetration of the
statesmen of America. We wish for the duration of her virtue. We
sigh at every appearance of decline; and perhaps, from a dread of
deviations, we may be suspicious of their approach when none are
designed.

It is a more agreeable anticipation to every humane mind to

contemplate the glory, the happiness, the freedom, and peace which
may for ages to come pervade this new-born nation, emancipated by
the uncommon vigor, valor, fortitude, and patriotism of her soldiers
and statesmen. They seemed to have been remarkably directed by
the finger of Divine Providence, and led on from step to step beyond
their own expectations, to exhibit to the view of distant nations,
millions freed from the bondage of a foreign yoke, by that sprit of
freedom, virtue, and perseverance, which they had generally
displayed from their first emigrations to the wilderness to the present
day.

Let us here pause a few moments and survey the vast continent of
America, where the reflecting mind retrospects and realizes the
beautiful description of the wide wilderness before it became a fruitful
field; before "the rivers were open in high places and fountains in the
midst of the valleys;" when He who created them pronounced, " I will
plant the cedar, the myrtle, and the oil tree. I will set in the desert the
fir tree, and the pine and the box tree together; that all may see and
know and consider and understand together that the hand of the Lord
hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel hath created it." [Isaiah
chapter 41.]
Let the striking contrast, since the forest has been made to blossom
as the rose, be viewed in such an impressive light as to operate on
the mind of every son and daughter of America and lead to the
uniform practice of public an private virtue.

From the education, the habits, and the general law of kindness which
has been nurtured among the children of those pious worthies who
first left the pleasant and prolific shores of Europe, and took up their
residence in the bosom of a wilderness, to secure the peaceful
enjoyment of civil and religious liberty, it may reasonably be expected
that such a unanimity may long be preserved among their posterity as
to prevent the fatal havoc which dissension and war have brought on
most nations found in the records of time.

The mind now rejoices to return from the scenes of war in which it has
been immersed and feels itself sufficiently collected to take and
abstracted view of the condition of human nature. Here we might,
before we leave the local circumstances of America, survey the
contrasts exhibited in their conduct by a world of beings who boast
their rationality. We might indulge some moments of reflection and
calm contemplation on the infinite variety of combinations in the
powers of the human mind as well as the contrarieties that make up
the character of man. But amid the various images which present, in
viewing the complex state of man, we will only add in this place a few
observations on their hostile dispositions toward each other.

It must appear among the wonders of Divine Providence that a

creature endowed with reasons should, through all ages and
generations, be permitted the wanton destruction of his own species.
The barbarous butchery of his fellow mortals exhibits man an absurd
and ferocious, instead of a rational and humane being. May it not be
among the proofs of some general lapse from the original law of
rectitude that no age or nation since the death of Abel has been
exempt from the havoc of war? Pride, avarice, injustice, and ambition
have set every political wheel in motion to hurry out of existence one
half the species by the hands of the other.

The folly of mankind in making war on each other is strongly

delineated on the conclusion of almost every hostile dispute; and
perhaps this folly was never more clearly exhibited than in that
between Great Britain and her former colonies. Each circumstance
will in future be weighted, when the world will judge of the great
balance of advantage to the one country or the other, on the
termination of the struggle.

A full detail of the sufferings of the English nation, in consequence of

the absurd war on their colonies, may be left to more voluminous
writers; while we only observe that Great Britain lost an extensive
territory containing millions of subjects, the fruits of whose genius and
industry she might have reaped for ages, had she not been
avaricious of a revenue by methods which neither the much-boasted
constitution of Englishmen or the laws of prudence or equity could
justify... She lost the extensive commerce of a country growing in arts
and population to an astounding degree... She lost the friendship of
thousands and created the alienation of millions that may last
forever... She lost a nursery for seamen that had replenished her navy
from the first settlement of America... She lost, by the best British
calculations, 100,000 of her best soldiers, either by sickness or the
sword, and a proportionate number of most gallant officer... [See
British Encyclopedia, published 1792.] She sunk an immensity of her
treasures for the support of her armies an navies for the execution of
the chimerical project of subduing the colonies by arms, which by
justice, protection, friendship, and a reciprocity of kind officers would
have been hers for ages.

And what has she gained by the contest? Surely not an increase of
honor or reputation. Corroborative evidence of these truths may be
drawn from the testimony of British writers. A very sensible man [See
View of the Reign of George the Third.] of this class has observed
that "Thus ended the most unfortunate war in which England has ever
been engaged; a war commenced in the very wantonness of pride
and folly, which had for its object to deprive America of the rights for
which our ancestors have contended; a war the professed object of
which was to levy a tax that would not have paid the collectors; a war
conducted with the same weakness and incapacity on the part of the
British ministry, with which it was commenced; which might in the
early stages of the dispute have been avoided by the smallest
concession; and which might have been terminated with honor but for
the incorrigible obstinacy and unparalleled folly of the worst
administration that ever disgraced the country. This deplorable war
has ended in the dismemberment of a considerable part of the British
Empire, cost the nation more money than the ever-memorable
campaigns of Marlborough, and the still more glorious war of Lord
Chatham; more indeed than all the wars in Which Great Britain has
been engaged since the Revolution to the peace of Aix la Chapelle."

On the other hand, it may be proper here to take a survey of the

United States and to view them on every ground. They have
struggled with astonishing success for the rights of mankind and have
emancipated themselves from the shackles of foreign power. America
has indeed obtained incalculable advantages by the Revolution; but
in the innumerable list of evils attendant on a state of war, she, as well
as Great Britain, has lost her thousands of brave soldiers, veteran
officers, hardy seamen, and meritorious citizens, that perished in the
field or in captivity, in prison ships, and in the wilderness, since the
beginning of the conflict. She has lost an immense property by the
conflagration of her cities and the waste of wealth by various other
means. She has in a great measure lost her simplicity of manners,
and those ideas of mediocrity which are generally the parent of
content. The Americans are already in too many instances hankering
after the sudden accumulation of wealth and the proud distinctions of
fortune and title. They have too far lost that general sense of moral
obligation, formerly felt by all classes in America. The people have
not indeed generally lost their veneration for religion, but it is to be
regretted that in the unlicensed liberality of opinion there have been
some instances where the fundamental principles of truth have been
obscured. This may in some measure have arisen from their late
connections with other nations; and this circumstance may account
for the readiness of many to engraft foreign follies and crimes with
their own weak propensities to imitation, and to adopt their errors and
fierce ambition, instead of making themselves a national character,
marked with moderation, justice, benignity, and all the mild virtues of
humanity.

But when the seeds of revolution are planted, and the shoots have
expanded, the various causes which contribute to their growth and to
the introduction of a change of manners are too many to recount.
The effervescence of party rage sets open the flood gates of
animosity, and renders it impossible to calculate with any degree of
accuracy on subsequent events. Not the most perspicacious human
eye can foresee, amid the imperious spirit of disunion and the
annihilation of former habits and connections, the benefits that may
result from the exertions of virtue or the evils that may arise from
problematic characters which come forward, the new-born offspring of
confusion, and assume merit from the novelty of their projects and the
inscrutability of their designs. These are like hot-bed plants, started
from extraneous causes. Prematurely forced into existence, they are
incapable of living but in the sunshine of meridian day. Such
characters often hurry to irretrievable mischief before time has
ripened the systems of men of more principle and judgment.

Thus, after the conclusion of peace and the acknowledgment of the

independence of the United States by Great Britain, the situation of
America appeared similar to that of a young heir, who had
prematurely become possessed of a rich inheritance, while his
inexperience and his new-felt independence had intoxicated him so
far as to render him incapable of weighing the intrinsic value of his
estate, and had left him without discretion or judgment to improve it to
the best advantage of his family.

The inhabitants of the United States had much to experiment in the

new rank they had taken, and the untrodden ground which they were
now to explore, replete with difficulties not yet digested or
apprehended by the most sagacious statesmen. They had obtained
their independence by a long and perilous struggle against a powerful
nation. We now view them just emancipated from a foreign yoke, the
blessings of peace restored on honorable terms, with the liberty of
forming their own governments, enacting their own laws, choosing
their own magistrates, and adopting manners the most favorable to
freedom and happiness. Yet it is possible that their virtue is not
sufficiently steadfast to avail themselves of those superior
advantages.

The restless nature of man is forever kindling a fire and collecting fuel
to keep the flame alive that consumes one half the globe without the
smallest advantage to the other, either in a moral or in a political
view. Men profit little by the observations, the sufferings, or the
opinions of others. It is with nations as with individuals. They must try
their own projects and frequently learn wisdom only by their own
mistakes. It is undoubtedly true that all mankind learn more from
experience than from intuitive wisdom. Their foolish passions too
generally predominate over their virtues. Thus civil liberty, political
and private happiness are frequently bartered away for the
gratification of vanity, or the aggrandizement of a few individuals who
have art enough to fascinate the undistinguishing multitude.

If the conduct of the United States should stand on record as a

striking example of the truth of this observation, it must be
remembered that this is not a trait peculiar to the character of
America. It is the story of man. Past ages bear testimony to its
authenticity, and future events will convince the unbelieving.

It is an unpleasing part of history when "corruption begins to prevail,

when degeneracy marks the manners of the people, and weakens
the sinews of the state." If this should ever become the deplorable
situation of the United states, let some unborn historian in a far
distant day detail the lapse and hold up the contrast between a
simple, virtuous, and free people, and a degenerate, servile race of
beings, corrupted by wealth, effeminated by luxury, impoverished by
licentiousness, and become the automatons of intoxicated ambition.

*************************

Note 5

General Washington's farewell orders to the army of the United

States.

"Rocky Hill, near Princeton, November 2, 1783.

"The United States in Congress assembled, after giving the most

honorable testimony to the merits of the federal armies and
presenting them with the thanks of their country for their long,
eminent, and faithful services, having thought proper, by their
proclamation, bearing the date October 18 last, to discharge such
parts of the troops as were engaged for the war, and to permit the
officers on furlough to retired from service, from and after tomorrow,
which proclamation having been communicated in the public papers,
for the information and government of all concerned; it only remains
for the commander in chief to address himself once more, an that for
the last time, to the armies of the United States, (however widely
dispersed individuals who composed them may be) and to bid them
an affectionate, a long farewell.

"But before the commander in chief takes his final leave of those he
holds most dear, he wishes to indulge himself a few moments in
calling to mind a slight review of the past; he will then take the liberty
of exploring with his military friends their future prospects; of advising
the general conduct which in his opinion ought to be pursued; and he
will conclude the address by expressing the obligations he feels
himself under for the spirited and able assistance he has experienced
from them in the performance of an arduous office.

"A contemplation of the complete attainment (at a period earlier than

could have been expedited) of the object for which we contended,
against so formidable a power, cannot but inspire us with
astonishment and gratitude. The disadvantageous circumstances on
our part, under which the war was undertaken, can never be
forgotten. The singular interpositions of Providence in our feeble
condition were such as could scarcely escape the attention of the
most unobserving; while the unparalleled perseverance of the armies
of the United States through almost every possible suffering and
discouragement, for the space of eight long years, was little short of a
standing miracle.

"It is not the meaning, nor within the compass of this address, to detail
the hardships peculiarly incident to our service, or to describe the
distresses which in several instances have resulted from the
extremes of hunger and nakedness, combined with the rigors of an
inclement season; nor is it necessary to dwell on the dark side of our
past affairs. Every American officer and soldier must now console
himself for any unpleasant circumstances which may have occurred,
by a recollection of the uncommon scenes in which he has been
called to act no inglorious part, and the astonishing events of which
he has been a witness; events which have seldom, if ever before,
taken place on the stage of human action, nor can they possibly ever
happen again. For who has before seen a disciplined army formed at
once from such raw materials? Who that was not a witness could
imagine that the most violent local prejudices would cease so soon,
and that men who came from the different parts of the continent,
strongly disposed by the habits of education to despise and quarrel
with each other, would immediately become but one patriotic band of
brothers? Or who that was not on the spot can trace the steps by
which such a wonderful revolution has been effected and such a
glorious period put to all our warlike toils?
"It is universally acknowledged that the enlarged prospects of
happiness opened by the confirmation of our independence and
sovereignty almost exceed the power of description; and shall not the
brave men who have contributed so essentially to these inestimable
acquisitions, retiring victorious from the field of war to the field of
agriculture, participate in all the blessings which have been
obtained? In such a republic, who will exclude them from the rights of
citizens, and the fruits of their labors? In such a country so happily
circumstanced, the pursuits of commerce and the cultivation of the oil
will unfold to industry the certain road to competence. To those hardy
soldiers who are actuated by the spirit of adventure, the fisheries will
afford ample and profitable employment; and the extensive fertile
regions of the west will yield a most happy asylum to those, who, fond
of domestic enjoyment, are seeking for personal independence. Nor
is it possible to conceive that anyone of the Untied States will prefer a
national bankruptcy and the dissolution of the union to a compliance
with the requisitions of Congress and the payment of its just debts, so
that the officers and soldiers may expect considerable assistance in
recommencing their civil occupations, from the sums due to them
from the public, which must and will most inevitably be paid.

"In order to effect this desirable purpose, and to remove the prejudices
which may have taken possession of the mind of any of the good
people of the States, it is earnestly recommended to all the troops
that, with strong attachments to the union, they should carry with
them into civil society the most conciliatory dispositions; and that they
should prove themselves not less virtuous and useful as citizens than
they have been persevering an victorious as soldiers. What though
there should be some envious individuals, who are unwilling to pay
the debt the public has contracted, or to yield the tribute due to merit;
yet let such unworthy treatment produce no invective, or an instance
of intemperate conduct; let it be remembered that the unbiased voice
of the free citizens of the United States has promised the just rewards
and given the merited applause. Let it be known and remembered
that the reputation of the federal armies is established beyond the
reach of malevolence; and let a consciousness of their achievements
and fame still excite the men who composed them to honorable
actions, under the persuasion that the private virtues of

economy, prudence, and industry will not be less amiable in civil life
than the more splendid qualities of valor, perseverance, and
enterprise were in the field; everyone may rest assured that much,
very much of the future happiness of the officers and men will depend
on the wise and manly conduct which shall be adopted by them,
when they are mingled with the great body of the community. And
although the general has so frequently given it as his opinion, in the
most public and explicit manner, that unless the principles of the
federal government were properly supported, and the power of the
union increased, the honor, dignity, and justice of the nation would be
lost forever; yet he cannot help repeating on this occasion, so
interesting a sentiment, and leaving it as his last injunction to every
officer and every soldier who may view the subject tin the same
serious point of light, to add his best endeavors to those of his worthy
fellow citizens towards effecting those great and valuable purposes
on which our very existence as a nation so materially depends.

"The commander in chief conceives little is now wanting to enable the

soldier to change the military character into that of a citizen, but that
steady and decent tenor of behavior which has generally
distinguished not only the army under his immediate command, but
the different detachments and separate armies, through the course of
the war. From their good sense and prudence, he anticipated the
happiest consequences; and while he congratulates them on the
glorious occasion, which renders their services in the field no longer
necessary, he wishes to express the strong obligation he feels
himself under for the assistance he has received from every class and
in every instance. He presents his thanks, in the most serious and
affectionate manner, to the general officers, as well for their counsel
on many interesting occasions, as for their ardor in promoting the
success of the plans he had adopted; to the commandants of
regiments and corps and to the officers, for their zeal and attention in
carrying his orders promptly into execution; to the staff, for their
alacrity and exactness in performing the duties of their several
departments; and to the non-commissioned officers and private
soldiers, for their extraordinary patience in suffering, as well as their
invincible fortitude in action. To various branches of the army, the
general takes this last and solemn opportunity of professing his
inviolable attachment and friendship. He wishes more than bare
professions were in his power, that he was really able to be useful to
them all in future life. He flatters himself, however, they will do him
the justice to believe that whatever could with propriety be attempted
by him has been done. And, being now on leave in a short time of
the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so
long had the honor to command, he can only again offer in their
behalf his recommendations to their grateful country, and his prayers
to the God of armies. May ample justice be done them here, and may
the choicest of Heaven's favors, both her and hereafter, attend those
who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings
for others! With these wishes, and this benediction, the commander in
chief is about to retire from service; the curtain of separation will soon
be drawn, and the military scene to him will be closed forever.

"Edward Hand, Adjutant General."

____________

Chapter Thirty-One: Supplementary observations on succeeding

events, after the

termination of the American Revolution. Insurrection in the

Massachusetts. A general convention of the states. A new
Constitution adopted. General Washington chosen President. British
treaty negotiated by Mr. Jay. General Washington's second retreat
from public life. General observations.
The narration of the revolutionary war between Great Britain and her
former colonies brought down to its termination leaves the mind at
leisure for more general observations on the subsequent
consequences, without confining it to time or place.

At the conclusion of the war between Great Britain and America, after
the rejection of the claims of a potent foreign nation, the dissevering
of old bands of governmental arrangement, and before new ones
were adopted, the proud feelings of personal independence warmed
every bosom, and the general ideas of civil and religious liberty were
disseminated far and wide.

On the restoration of peace, the soldier had returned to the bosom of

his family, and the artisan and the husbandman were stimulated to
new improvements; genius was prompted to exertion, by the wide
field opened by the Revolution, and encouraged by the spirit of
inquiry to climb the heights of literature, until it might stand
conspicuous on the summit of fame.

Under such circumstances, every free mind should be tenacious of

supporting the honor of a national character and the dignity of
independence. This claim must be supported by their own sobriety,
economy, industry, and perseverance in every virtue. It must be
nurtured by that firmness and principle that induced their ancestors to
fly from the hostile arm of tyranny, and to explore and begin a new
nation in the forlorn and darksome bosom of a distant wilderness.
The social compacts, the religion, the manners, and the habits of
these wandering strangers, and their immediate successors taught
their sons the noble example of fortitude and love of freedom, that
has led them to resist the encroachments of kings and nobles, and to
dissipate the cloud that threatened to envelope the mind in darkness,
and spread the veil of ignorance over the bright hemisphere that
encircles the children of Columbia.

Indeed, America was at this period possessed of a prize, replete with

advantages seldom thrown into the hand of any people. Divided by
nature from three parts of the globe, which have groaned under
tyrants of various descriptions, from time immemorial, who have
slaughtered their millions to feed the ambition of princes, she was
possessed of an immense territory, the soil fertile and productive, her
population increasing, her commerce unfettered, her resources
ample. She was now uncontrolled by foreign laws; and he domestic
manufactures might be encouraged, without any fear of check from
abroad; and under the influence of a spirit of enterprise, very
advantageous in a young country, she was looking forward with
expectations of extending her commerce to every part of the globe.

Nothing seemed to be wanting to the United States but a continuance

of their union and virtue. It was their interest to cherish true, genuine
republican virtue, in politics; and in religion, a strict adherence to a
sublime code of morals, which has never been equaled by the sages
of ancient time, nor can ever be abolished by the sophistical
reasonings of modern philosophers. Possessed of this palladium,
American might bid defiance both to foreign and domestic intrigue,
and stand on an eminence that would command the veneration of
nations, and the respect of their monarch; but a defalcation of these
principles may leave the sapless vine of liberty to droop, or to be
rooted out by the hand that had been stretched out to nourish it.

If, instead of the independent feelings of ancient republics, whose

prime object was the welfare and happiness of their country, we
should see a dereliction of those principles, and the Americans ready
to renounce their great advantages, by the imitation of European
systems in politics and manners, it would be a melancholy trait in the
story of man. Yet, they, like other nations, may in time, by their servility
to men in power, or by a chimerical pursuit of the golden fleece of
poets, become involved in a mist ascending from the pit of avarice.
This may lead to peculation, to usurious contracts, to illegal and
dishonest projects, and to every private vice, to support the factitious
appearances of grandeur and wealth which can never maintain the
claim to that rich inheritance which they so bravely defended.
Thus it was but a short time after the restoration of peace and the
exhilarating view of the innumerable benefits obtained by the general
acknowledgment among foreign nations of the independence of
America, before the brightened prospect, which had recently shone
with so much splendor, was beclouded by the face of general
discontent. New difficulties arose, and embarrassments thickened,
which called for the exercise of new energies, activity, and wisdom.

The sudden sinking of the value of landed, and, indeed, of all other
real property, immediately on the peace, involved the honest and
industrious farmer in innumerable difficulties. The produce of a few
acres had been far from sufficient for the

support of a family, and at the same time supply the necessary

demands for the use of the army, when from the scarcity of provisions
every article thereof bore an enhanced price, while their resources
were exhausted, and their spirits wasted under an accumulated load
of debt.

The General Congress as yet without any compulsory powers to

enforce the liquidation of public demands; and the state legislatures
totally at a loss how to devise any just and ready expedient for the
relief of private debtors. It was thought necessary by some to advert
gain to a paper medium, and by others this was viewed with the
utmost abhorrence. Indeed, the iniquitous consequences of a
depreciating currency had been recently felt too severely by all
classes to induce any to embrace a second time with cordiality such a
dangerous expedient. Thus, from various circumstances, the state of
both public and private affairs presented a very serious and alarming
aspect.

The patriotic feelings of the yeomanry of the country had prompted

them to the utmost exertions for the public service. Unwilling to
withhold their quota of the tax of beef, blankets, and other
necessaries indispensable for the soldiery, exposed to cold and
hunger, many of them had been induced to contract debts which
could not be easily liquidated, and which it was impossible to
discharge by the products from the usual occupations of husbandry.
While at the same time, the rage for privateering and traffic, by which
some had suddenly grown rich, had induced others to look with
indifference on the ideas of more moderate accumulation of wealth.
They sold their patrimonial inheritance for trifling considerations in
order to raise ready specie for adventure in some speculative
project. This, with many other causes, reduced the price of land to so
low a rate that the most valuable farms and the best accommodated
situations were depreciated to such a degree that those who were
obliged to alienate real property were bankrupted by the sales.

The state of trade and the derangement of commercial affairs were

equally intricate and distressing at the close of the war. The natural
eagerness of the mercantile body to take every advantage that
presented in that line, induced many, immediately on the peace, to
send forward for large quantities of goods from England, France, and
Holland, and wherever else they could gain a credit. Thus the
markets loaded with every article of luxury, as well as necessaries,
and the growing scarcity of specie united with the reduced
circumstances of many who had formerly been wealthy, the
enormous importations either lay upon hand, or obliged the
possessor to sell without any advance, and in many instances much
under the prime cost. In addition to these embarrassments on the
mercantile interest, the whole country, from north to south, was filled
with British factors, with their cargoes of good directly from the
manufacturers, who drew customers to their stores from all classes
that were able to purchase. Every capital was crowded with British
agents, sent over to collect debts contracted long before the war, who
took advantage of the times, oppressed the debtor, and purchased
public securities from all persons whose necessities obliged them to
sell, at the monstrous discount of 17 shillings and 6 pence on the
pound. At the same time, the continent swarmed with British
emissaries, who sowed discord among the people, infused
jealousies, and weakened their reliance on the public faith, and
destroyed all confidence between man and man.

Nor did religion or morals appreciate amid the confusion of a long war,
which is ever unfavorable to virtue, and to all those generous
principles which ennoble the human character, much more than
ribbons, stars, and other playthings of a distempered imagination.
These soon sink to the level of their own insignificance, and leave the
sanguine admirer sickened by the chase of ideal felicity.

The wide field of more minute observation on these great and

important subjects shall at present be waved. Agriculture may be left
to the philosophic theorist, who may speculate on the real value and
product of the lands, in a country in such an improvable state as that
of America; while the advance in the profits of the husbandman must
be estimated by the ratio of future experiment. The statesman versed
in the commerce and politics of Europe, and the commercial treaties
which may be or have already been formed has a labyrinth to trace,
and investigations to unfold, before everything can be fixed on the
principles of equity and reciprocity, that will give complete satisfaction
to all nations. Religious discussions we leave to the observation of
the theologian, who, however human nature may be vilified by some
and exalted by others, traces the moral causes and effects that
operate on the soul of man. The effects only are level to the common
eye, which weep that the result is more frequently productive of
misery than felicity to his fellow beings.

Besides the circumstances already hinted, various other combinations

caused a cloud of chagrin to fit on almost every brow, and a general
uneasiness to pervade the bosoms of most of the inhabitants of
America. This was discoverable on every occasion. They complained
of the governments of their own instituting and of Congress, whose
powers were too feeble for the redress of private wrongs, or the more
public and general purposes of government. They murmured at the
commutation which Congress had agreed to for the compensation of
the army. They felt themselves under the pressure of burdens for
which they had not calculated; the pressure of debts and taxes
beyond their ability to pay. These discontents artificially wrought up,
by men who wished for a more strong and splendid government,
broke out into commotion in many parts of the country, and finally
terminated in open insurrection in some of the states.

This general uneasy and refractory spirit had for some time shown
itself in the states of New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and
some other portions of the union; but the Massachusetts seemed to
be the seat of sedition. Bristol, Middlesex, and the western countries,
Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, were more particularly
culpable. The people met in country conventions, drew up addresses
to the General Assembly to which were annexed long lists of
grievances, some of them real, others imaginary. They drew up many
resolves, some of which were rational, others unjust, and most of
them absurd in the extreme. They censured the conduct of the
officers of government, called for a revision of the constitution, voted
the Senate and judicial courts to be grievances, and proceeded in a
most daring and insolent manner to prevent the sitting of the courts of
justice in several counties.

The ignorance [Some of them indeed were artful and shrewd, but
most of them were deluded and persuaded to attempt, by resistance
to government, to relieve themselves from debts which they could not
pay, and from the hand of tax-gatherers, who had distrained in some
instance to the last article of their property.] of this incendiary and
turbulent set of people, might lead them to a justification of their own
measures, from a recurrence to transactions in some degree similar
in the early opposition to British government. They had neither the
information, nor the sagacity to discern the different grounds of
complaint. Nor could they make proper distinctions with regard to the
oppressions complained of under the crown of Britain, and the
temporary burdens they now felt, which are ever the concomitants and
consequences of ar. They knew that a successful opposition had
been made to the authority of Britain, while they were under the
dominion of the King of England; but they were too ignorant to
distinguish between an opposition to regal despotism, and

a resistance to a government recently established by themselves.

County meetings and conventions and the opposition of the body of

the people to submit to judiciary proceedings in direct violation of their
charter and the stipulated indulgences which they claimed in common
with their fellow subjects in Great Britain, wore a very different aspect
from those of the clamorous and tumultuary proceedings of the
Massachusetts' insurgents. These were violating the constitutions of
their own forming, and endeavoring to prostrate all legal institutions
before they were cemented on the strong basis of a firm and well-
established government.

Those disturbances were for a time truly alarming and gave cause for
serious apprehensions that civil convulsions might spread through the
country within the short term of three or four years after
independence had been established, and peace restored to the
United States of America. Under existing circumstances, the high-
handed and threatening proceedings of the insurgents wore a very
formidable aspect. There were among them very many men hardy,
bold, and veteran, who had been very serviceable in the field during
the late Revolutionary War. They had assembled in great numbers, in
various places, and at different times, and seemed to bid defiance to
all law, order an government.

In the winter of 1786, several thousand of those disorderly persons

armed and embodied and appeared in the environs of Springfield.
They chose for their leader a man who had been a subaltern officer
[Daniel Shays.] in the Revolutionary War, threatened to march to
Boston, and by compulsory measures oblige the governor and
General Assembly to redress the grievances of the people, which they
alleged were brought on them by enormous taxation and other
severities from their own government. they, however, thought proper
to send forward a petition, instead of marching sword in hand to the
capital.

In the mean time, the exertions and the resolves of the legislative
body, with a view of relieving the public distress, only increased the
discontents of the people. They were much divided in opinion,
relative to the best modes of quieting the disturbances. Tender laws
and sumptuary regulations were superficial expedients, that, like
paper money, eventually would increase, rather than eradicate the
evils complained of; while the temper of the people of various
descriptions, and from various motives, augured an approaching
crisis that might produce convulsions too extensive for calculation.

In this situation of affairs, the governor was empowered by the

legislature to order a military force to be in readiness to march under
the command of General Lincoln. The temerity of the insurgents had
emboldened them to move forward in hostile array, which made it
necessary to direct General Lincoln to a check to their insolvence and
to restore peace and order to the state. But before the troops from the
lower counties had collected at Worcester, great numbers of the
insurgents had embodied and moved forward to Springfield, with a
design to attack the continental arsenal. This was defended by
General Shepard, who took every precaution to prevent the shedding
of blood. He expostulated with their leaders and warned them against
the fatal consequences of perseverance in their rebellious and hostile
proceedings. they, however, neglected the warning and rushed on in
the face of danger. This obliged General Shepard to fire on them,
which so disconcerted them that they immediately retreated. General
Lincoln reached Springfield about the same time, which entirely
defeated this project. The field was left with dismay, and with the loss
only of two or three of their party. The next movement of any
importance was their again collecting from all quarter and taking a
position on the heights of Pelham.
General Lincoln, unwilling to see his countrymen involved in a war
among themselves, passed on to Hadley without proceeding to
extremities. There he received letters from some of the leaders of the
insurgent parties, and with his usual mildness and humanity
endeavored to persuade them to quit their hostile parade and by their
peaceable demeanor to render themselves worthy of the lenity of
government, which was ready, on their return to proper submission,
to extend a general pardon, and throw a veil of oblivion over past
transactions. But there appeared no signs of repentance or of a
relinquishment of their atrocious projects; and though without system
or any determinate object and with out men of talents to direct or even
to countenance their disorderly conduct, in any stage of the business,
they soon moved from Pelham in a strong body, entered and halted in
the town of Petersham.

General Lincoln heard of the decampment of Shays and his followers

from Pelham at 12 o'clock and had certain intelligence by the hour of
six that they had moved on to Petersham. Convinced of the necessity
of a quick march, he ordered his troops to be ready at a moment's
warning. By 8 o'clock, they began their route. Notwithstanding the
intrepidity of General Lincoln, when immediate hazard required
enterprise, he would not have exposed his troops to a march of 30
miles in one of the severest nights of a remarkably severe winter had
not the entrance of the evening been mild an serene. The sky
unclouded and the moon in full splendor, they began their march
under the promise of a more easy termination; but after a few hours,
the wind rose, the clouds gathered blackness, and the cold was so
intense that it was scarcely supportable by the hardiest of his
followers. Nothing but the quickness of their motion prevented many
of his men from falling victims to the severity of the season. The
difficulty of their march was increased by a deep snow that had
previously fallen and lain so uncemented that the gusts drove it in the
faces of the army with the violence of a rapid snow storm. They,
however, reached Petersham before 9 o'clock the next morning, but
so miserably fatigued and frost-bitten that few of them were fit for
service; and had not a general panic seized the insurgents on the first
alarm of the approach of the government troops, they might have met
them with great slaughter, if not with total defeat; but through in warm
quarters, well supplied with arms and provisions, they left this
advantageous post with the greatest precipitation, and fled in all
directions.

General Lincoln was not in a capacity for immediate pursuit. It was

necessary to halt and refresh his men. Besides, his known humanity
was such that he might be willing they should scatter and disappear
without being pushed to submission by the point of the sword. The
insurgents never again appeared in a collective body, but spread
themselves over the several parts of the western counties and even
into the neighboring states, plundering, harassing, and terrifying the
inhabitants, and nourishing the seeds of discontent and sedition that
had before been scattered among them. It was not long before
General Lincoln pursued and captured many of them, who implored
and experienced the clemency of the commander, and only a few
were taken into custody for future trial. Thus those internal
commotions, which had threatened a general convulsion, were so far
quelled that most of the troops

returned to Boston early in the spring. Before his return, General

Lincoln marched to the borders of the state and found many in the
counties Hampshire and Berkshire ready to take the oath of
allegiance, with all the marks of contrition for their late guilty conduct.
Commissioners were afterwards sent forward, with powers to pardon,
after due inquiry into the present temper and conduct of individuals;
to administer the oath of allegiance to the penitent and to restore to
the confidence of their country all such as were not stigmatized by
flagitious and murderous conduct.

Perhaps no man could have acted with more firmness, precision, and
judgment than did Governor Bowdoin, through the turbulent period of
two years in which he presided in the Massachusetts. Yet,
notwithstanding his conspicuous talents and the public and private
virtues which adorned his character, the popular current set strongly
against him on approaching annual election; and governor Hancock,
who had once resigned the chair, was again requested to resume his
former dignified station, and was brought forward and chosen with
eclat and expectation. He did not, however, contravene the wise
measures of his predecessor. He was equally vigilant to quiet the
perturbed spirits of the people and to restore general tranquility. This
he did by coercive and lenient measures, as circumstances required;
and by his disinterested conduct and masterly address, he was very
influential in overcoming the remains of factious and seditious spirit
that had prevailed. Thus he did himself much honor, and acquired the
applause of his constituents.

The governor was authorized by the legislature to keep in pay any

number of troops that might be thought necessary to preserve the
public peace. 800 men were stationed on the western borders of the
state but before the summer elapsed, the insurgents were so
generally subdued that the troops were recalled and dismissed.

The governors of all the neighboring states had been requested not to
receive or protect any of the guilty party, who had fled for security
within their limits. These were all so sensibly impressed with the
danger of disunion and anarchy, which had threatened the whole, that
they readily gave assurances of detection, if any should flatter
themselves with impunity, by flying without the jurisdiction of their own
government. Several of the most notorious offenders were secured
and tried by the supreme judicial court, and received sentence of
death; but the compassion of the people, coinciding with the humane
disposition of the governor, induced him to grant reprieves from time
to time, and finally prevented the loss of life by the hand of civil justice
in a single instance.

Thus, by well-time lenity, and decided energy, as the exigencies of the

moment required, as terminated an insurrection that, by it dangerous
example, threatened the United States with a general rupture, that
might have been more fatal than foreign war, to their freedom, virtue,
and prosperity. But though the late disturbances were quelled, and
the turbulent spirit which had been so alarming was subdued by a
small military force, yet it awakened all to a full view of the necessity
of concert and union in measures that might preserve their internal
peace. This required the regulation of commerce on some stable
principles, and some steps for the liquidation of both public and
private debts. They also saw it necessary to invest Congress with
sufficient powers for the execution of their own laws, for all general
purposes relative to the union.

A convention was appointed by the several states to meet at

Annapolis, in the state of Maryland, in the year 1786, for these
salutary purposes; but the work was too

complicated. The delegates separated without doing anything, and a

new convention was called the next year to meet at Philadelphia, with
the same design, but without any enlargement of their powers. They,
however, framed a new constitution of government, and sent it for the
consideration and adoption of the several states; and though it was
thought by many to be too strongly marked with the features of
monarchy, it was, after much discussion, adopted by a majority of the
states.

We must consult the human heart, says the Marquis Beccaria, for the
foundation of the rights of both sovereign and people. "If we look into
history, we shall find that laws which are or ought to be conventions
between men in a state of freedom have been for the most part, the
work of the passions of a few, or the consequences of a fortuitous
temporary necessity, not dictated by a cool examiner of human nature,
who knew how to collect in one point the actions of a multitude and
had this only end in view, the greatest happiness of the greatest
number."

It was thought by some, who had been recently informed of the secret
transactions of the the convention at Philadelphia, that the greatest
happiness of the greatest number was not the principal object of their
contemplations, when they ordered their doors to be locked, their
members inhibited from all communications abroad, and when the
proposals were made that their journals should be burnt, lest their
consultations and debates should be viewed by the scrutinizing eyes
of a free people. [This convention was composed of some gentlemen
of the first character and abilities; of some men of shining talents and
doubtful character. Some of them were uniform republications, others
decided monarchists, with a few neutrals, ready to join the strongest
party. It was not strange there was much clashing and debate where
such dissentient opinions existed. but after some modification and
concession, a constitution was formed which, when the amendments
took place immediately on its adoption, the government of the United
States stood on a basis which rendered the people respectable
abroad and safe at home.] These extraordinary movements appeared
to them the result of the passions of a few. It is certain that truth,
whether moral, philosophical, or political, shrinks not from the eye of
the investigation.

The ideas of royalty, or anything that wore the appearance of regal

forms and institutions, were generally disgusting to Americans, and
particularly so to many characters who early came forward and
continued to the end of the conflict, steadfast in opposition to the
Crown of Britain. They thought that after America had encountered
the power, an obtained a release from foreign bondage and had
recently overcome domestic difficulties and discontents and even
quieted the spirit of insurrection in their own states; that the republic
system for which had had fought should not be hazarded by vesting
any man or body of men with powers that might militate with the
principles which had been cherished with fond enthusiasm by a large
majority of the inhabitants throughout the union.

Republicanism, the idol of some men, and independence, the glory of

all, were thought by many to be in danger of dwindling into theory.
The first had been defaced for a time by a degree of anarchy, and
fears were now awakened that the last might be annihilated by view
of private ambition.

The people were generally dissatisfied with the high pretensions of the
officers of the army, whose equality of condition previous to the war
as, with few exceptions, on the same grade with themselves. The
assumption of an appropriate rank was disgusting, in a set of men,
who had most of them been taken from mechanic employments, or
the sober occupations of agriculture. Thus jealousies for diffused with
regard to the officers of the old army, the Cincinnati, and several other
classes of men whom they suspected as cherishing hopes and
expectations of erecting a government too splendid for the taste and
professions of Americans. They saw a number of young gentlemen
coming forward, ardent and sanguine in the support

of the principles of monarchy and aristocracy. They saw a number of

professional characters too ready to relinquish former opinions, and
adopt new ones more congenial to the policy of courts than to the
maxims of a free people. They saw some apostate Whigs in public
employments, and symptoms of declension in others, which
threatened the annihilation of the darling opinion that the whole
sovereignty in the republic system is in the people, "that the people
have a right to amend and alter, or annul their constitution and frame
a new one, whenever they shall think it will better promote their own
welfare and happiness to do it."

This brought forward objections to the proposed constitution of

government then under consideration. These objections were not the
result of ignorance. They were made by men of the first abilities in
every state; men who were sensible of the necessity of strong and
energetic institutions, and a strict subordination and obedience to
law. These judicious men were solicitous that everything should be
clearly defined. They were jealous of each ambiguity in law or
government, or the smallest circumstance that might have a tendency
to curtail the republican system, or render ineffectual the sacrifices
they had made, or the security of civil and religious liberty to
themselves. They also wished for the transmission of the enjoyment of
the equal rights of man to their latest posterity. They were of opinion
that every article that admitted of doubtful construction should be
amended before it became the supreme law of the land. They were
now apprehensive of being precipitated, without due consideration,
into the adoption of a system that might bind them and their posterity
in the chains of despotism, while they held up the ideas of a free and
equal participation of the privileges of pure and genuine
republicanism.

Warm debates in favor of further consideration, and much energetic

argument took place, between gentlemen of the first abilities, in
several of the state conventions. The system was, however, ratified
in haste by a sufficient number of states to carry it into operation, and
amendments left to the wisdom, justice, and decision of future
generations, according as exigencies might require. [Many
amendments were made soon after the adoption of the Constitution.]
This was not sufficient to dissipate the apprehensions of gentlemen
who had been uniform and upright in their intentions and immovably
fixed in the principles of the Revolution, and had never turned their
eyes from the point in pursuit, until the independence of America was
acknowledged by the principal monarchs in Europe.

But while the system was under discussion, strong objections were
brought forward in the conventions of the several states. Those
gentlemen who were opposed to the adoption of the new Constitution
in toto, observed that there was no Bill of Rights to guard against
future innovations. They complained that the trial by jury in civil
causes was not secured. They observed that some of the warmest
partisans, who had been disposed to adopt without examination, had
stated at the discovery that this essential right was curtailed; that the
powers of the executive and judiciary were dangerously blended; that
the appellate jurisdiction of the Supreme Federal Court subjected the
inhabitants of the United States, by a litigious process that militated
with the rights formerly claimed by the individual states, to be drawn
from one end of the continent to the other for trail. They wished for a
rotation in office or some sufficient bar against the perpetuity of it, in
the same hands for life. They thought it necessary there should be
this check tot he overbearing influence of office, and that every man
should be rendered ineligible at certain periods, to keep the mind in
equilibrium, and teach hi the feelings of the governed, and better
qualify him to govern in his turn. It was also observed by them that all
sources of revenue formerly possessed by the individual states were
now under the control of Congress.

Subsequent measures were not yet realized. Banks, monopolies, and

a funding system were projects that had never been thought of in the
early stages of an infant republic, and had they been suggested
before the present period, would have startled both the soldier and
the peasant. The sober-principled statesmen, and the judicious band
of worthies who originated the system of freedom, digested it in the
cabinet and conducted the public councils which led to the
independence of America, with a firm, disinterested magnanimity, and
an energy seldom found in the courts of princes, would have revolted
at those ideas. Nor were they less alarmed at the contemplation of a
president with princely powers, a sextennial senate, biennial elections
of representatives, and a federal city, "whose cloud-capt towers"
might screen the state culprit from the hand of justice, while its
exclusive jurisdiction might, in some future day, protect the riot of
standing armies encamped within its limits. These were prospects
viewed by them with the utmost abhorrence.

Indeed, the opinions of the gentlemen who formed the general

convention differed very widely on many of the articles of the new
Constitution, before it was sent abroad for the discussion of the
people at large. Some of them seceded and retired without signing at
all, others complied from a conviction of the necessity of
accommodation and concession, lest they should be obliged to
separate without any efficient measures that would produce the
salutary purposes for which many characters of the first abilities had
been convened. The philosophic Doctor Franklin observed when he
lent his signature to the adoption of the new Constitution, "that its
complexion was doubtful; that it might last for ages, involve one
quarter of the globe, and probably terminate in despotism." [See
Doctor Franklin's speech on his singing the articles of the new
Constitution of government which was to be laid before the people.]
He signed the instrument for the consolidation of the government of
the United States with tears, and apologized for doing it at all, from the
doubts and apprehensions he felt that his countrymen might not be
able to do better, even if they called a new convention.

Many of the intelligent yeomanry and of the great bulk of independent

landholders who had tasted the sweets of mediocrity, equality, and
liberty read every unconditional ratification of the new system in silent
anguish, folded the solemn page with a sigh, and wept over the
manes of the native sons of America, who had sold their lives to leave
the legacy of freedom to their children. On this appearance of a
consolidated government, which they thought required such important
amendments, they feared that a dereliction of some of their choicest
privileges might be sealed, without duly considering the fatal
consequences of too much precipitation. "The right of taxation, and
the command of the military," says an ingenious writer, "is the
completion of despotism." The last of these was consigned to the
hands of the president and the first they feared would be too much
under his influence. The observers of human conduct were not
insensible that too much power vested in the hands of any individual
was liable to abuses, either from his own passions, or the
suggestions of others, of less upright and immaculate intentions than
himself.

Of thirteen state conventions to which the constitution was submitted,

those of Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware,
Maryland, and Georgia ratified it unconditionally, and those of New
Hampshire, Massachusetts, New York, Virginia, and South Carolina,
in full confidence of amendments which they thought necessary, and
proposed to the first Congress. The other two, Rhode Island and
North Carolina, rejected it. Thus, it is evident that a majority of the
states were convinced that the Constitution, as at first proposed,
endangered their liberties; that to the opposition in the federal state
conventions are the public indebted for the amendments and
amelioration of the Constitution, which have united all parties in the
vigorous support of it; and that in a land of freedom, sovereignty, and
independence, the great and important affairs of state will be finally
subject to reason, justice, and sound policy.

Thus, notwithstanding the many dark appearances that for a time

spread a cloud over the United States; notwithstanding the
apprehensions and prejudices against the new Constitution, which
had pervaded the minds of many; though strong parties had arisen,
and acrimonious divisions were fomented, on the great and important
question of ratification; yet, by the mode adopted by five states, of
proposing amendments at the time of ratifying it, the fears of the
people in general evaporated by degrees. The new Constitution was
adopted with applause and success, ad the promise and expectations
of amendments, flattered all classes with every advantage that could
be rationally expected.

The new system of government was ushered into existence under

peculiar advantages; and no circumstance tended more rapidly to
dissipate every unfavorable impression than the unanimous choice of
a gentleman to the presidential chair, at once meritorious popular,
and beloved, beyond any man. Washington, the favorite of every
class of people, was placed at the head of a government of
experiment and expectation. Had any character of less popularity and
celebrity been designated this high trust, it might at this period have
endangered, if not have proved fatal to the peace of the union.
Though some thought the executive vested with too great powers to
be entrusted to the hand of any individual, Washington was an
individual in whom they had the most unlimited confidence.

After the dissolution of the American army, and the retirement of the
commander in chief from the conspicuous station in which he had
been placed, the celebrity of this life and manners, associated with
the circumstances of a remarkable Revolution, in which he always
stood on the foreground, naturally turned the eyes of all toward him.
The hearts of the whole continent were united to give him their
approbatory voice, as the most suitable character in the United States
to preside at the head of civil government.

The splendid insignia of military command laid aside, the voluntary

retirement of General Washington had raised his reputation to the
zenith of human glory. Had he persevered in his resolution never
again to engage in the thorny path of public life, his repose might
have been forever insured in the delightful walks of rural occupation.
He might, in his retirement on Mount Vernon, have cherished those
principles of republicanism which he always professed, as well as the
patriotism which he exhibited in the field; and by his disinterested
example he might have checked the aspiring ambition of some of his
former associates and handed down his own name to posterity with
redoubled luster. [This was the opinion of some of his most intimate
associates at the time; yet doubtless General Washington thought it
his duty to aid his country at so critical an era.] but man, after long
habits of activity, in the meridian of applause, is generally restless in
retirement. The difficulty of entirely quitting the luminous scenes on
the great stage of public action is often exemplified in the most
exalted characters. Thus, even the dignified Washington could not,
amid the bustle of the world, become a calm, disinterested spectator
of the transactions of statesmen and politicians. His most judicious
friends were confident he had no fame to acquire and wished him to
remain on the pinnacle he had already reached. But, urged by the
strong voice of his native state, and looked up to by every state in the
union, the call was strong and impressive, and he again came forward
in public life, though it appeared to be in counteraction of his former
determinations.

Thus the former commander of the armies of America had been

chosen one of the delegates for a general convention of the states,
and lent his hand to the formation of a new Constitution of civil
government. This instrument, as above observed, appeared to the
public eye to lie open to many objections. It was viewed a doubtful in
its origin, dangerous in its aspect, and for a time very alarming to the
feelings of men, who were tremblingly alive on the smallest
encroachment of rights and privileges, for which they had sacrificed
their fortunes, immolated their friends, and risked their own lies.
General Washington himself observed when he signed the new
Constitution that "it was an experiment on which the destiny of the
republican model of government was staked." But the system was
adopted with expectations of amendment, and the experiment proved
salutary, and has ultimately redounded as much to the honor and
interest of America as any mode or form of government that could
have been devised by the wisdom of man.

It is beyond a doubt that no man in the union had it so much in his

power to assimilate the parties, conciliate the affections, and obtain a
general sanction to the new Constitution as a gentleman who
commanded their obedience in the field, and had won the veneration,
respect, and affections of the people, in the most distant parts of the
union. Yet, soon after the organization of the new Constitution of
government, a struggle began to take place between monarchists
and republicans, the consequences of which some future period must
disclose. From a variety of new sources; of new objects of
magnificence opening before them; of new prospects of wealth
anticipated, the spirit of intrigue was matured even among the
politicians of yesterday. Some of them were sighing for more liberty,
without discretion or judgment to make a proper use of what they
already possessed. Others were grasping at powers which neither
reason nor law, constitutions of their won forming, nor the feelings of
nature could justify.

Thus it appeared, convulsions might ensure, great conflicts be

sustain, and great spirits be subdued before the minds of every class
could be perfectly tranquilized, even under the wisest system of
human government. But such a people s the Americans cannot
suddenly be reduced to a state of slavery; it is a work of time to
 obliterate old opinions, founded in reason, and fanned by enthusiasm,
till they had become a part of the religious creed of a nation.
Notwithstanding the apprehensions which have pervaded the mind of
many, American will probably long retain a greater share of freedom
than can perhaps be found in any other part of the civilized world.
This may be more the result of her local situation, than from her
superior policy or moderation. From the general equality of fortune
which had formerly reigned among them, it may be modestly asserted
that most of the inhabitants of America were too proud for monarchy,
yet too poor for nobility, and it is to be feared, too selfish and
avaricious for a virtuous republic.

The people of America, however, were not yet prepared, like the
ungrateful Israelites, to ask a king, nor were their spirit sufficiently
broken to yield the "best of their olive grounds to her servants, or to
see their sons appointed to run before his chariots." Yet it was to be
regretted that there soon appeared a class of men, who, though
taken from the bar, the shop, or the more simple occupations of life, to
command armies and to negotiate with foreign nation, had imbibed
ideas of distinguished rank and ostentatious titles, incompatible with
republican principles, and totally repugnant to the views of the
zealous advocates of American freedom. Indeed, many of these had
been swept off by the hand of time and death. Those who still lived in
the shade of retirement observed with regret that unless counteracted
with firmness, the fiat of an individual might become more respected
than the general will of the people.

There yet remained a considerable class of these firm adherents to

the principles of the Revolution. They were strongly impressed with
the necessity of an energetic government and the weakness of the
old confederation. They were also sensible of the many difficulties
that must arise in the fiscal arrangements of a people who had been
long without a stable medium of trade, while agriculture, commerce,
and every other pursuit wore a new face, in consequence of a long
war. But they had not contemplated the introduction of new projects,
which were thought designed to enrich and ennoble some of the
officers of the army, to create a splendid government, and to support
the dignity of new orders in the state. These were articles that had
made no part of their creed.

The spirit of finance, which, a sensible writer observes, "accumulates

woes on the head of a people, by stripping them of the means of
subsistence, and what is infinitely more to be regretted, saps the
foundations of morality," had heretofore been only the dream of some
overgrown public creditor. A funding system afterwards introduced,
attended with all the intricacies of more aged financiers, which never
could be understood, and a public debt thereby enhanced, which was
probably never intended to be paid, was impregnated in the brain of a
young officer [Alexander Hamilton] of foreign extraction, an
adventurer of a bold genius, active talents, and fortunate
combinations, from his birth to the exalted station to which he was
lifted by the spirit of favoritism in American arrangements. Yet when
the system appeared, it as embraced with warmth by a considerable
class, as the legitimate child of speculation. But it appeared a
monster in the eye of a very large part of the community, who viewed
it as the parent of a national debt that would hang on the neck of
American to the latest generations.

Hence, a train of restless passions were awakened that excited to

activity an created a rage for project, speculation, and various
artifices to support a factitious dignity, which finally ruined multitudes
of unsuspecting citizens. Hence, a spirit of public gambling,
speculation in paper, in lands, in everything else, to a degree
unparalleled in any nation. Many other contingencies were felt too
severely to require a particular specification.

When General Washington was placed in the presidential chair, he

doubtless felt all the solicitude for the discharge of his duty which
such a sacred deposit entrusted to his integrity would naturally
awaken. His own reputation was blended with the administration of
government on those principles of republicanism which he had
 always professed and which he had supported by his sword; while
time, circumstances, and interests had changed the opinions of many
influential characters.

Thus, the favored and beloved Washington, called from his first
retirement to act as chief magistrate in the administration of civil
government, whatever measures he sanctioned were considered as
the best, the wisest, and most just by a great majority of the people.
In most instances, it is true, he presided with wisdom, dignity, and
moderation, but complete perfection is not to be attributed to man.
Undue prejudices and partialities often imperceptibly creep into the
best hearts; and with all the veneration due to so meritorious a
character, there were many who though him too much under the
influence of military favorites.

A very judicious gentleman, well acquainted with ancient history, and

with modern politics, [Letter to the author.] observed during the
administration of General Washington that "the president of the
United States held the hearts of all America in his hand, from the
moment of his elevation to the command of her armies to his
honorable retirement to private lie, and from his dignified retreat to his
inauguration at New York. Placed in the executive chair by the united
voice of all parties, it was expected the chief magistrate, whom
flattery endows with all perfection, and to whom justice attribute many
excellent qualities, would have felt himself above the partialities that
usually hang about the human heart; and that, divesting himself of the
little prejudices that obtrude and frequently sully the greatest
characters, he would have been of no party in his appointments, and
that real merit, whether federal or anti-federal, would have been
equally noticed.

"It was not expected that those gentlemen who wished for a more
perfect system of government or some amendments to the present
would have been cut off from every social and political claim; and that
only the officers of the late army, and the devotees to unconditional
ratification would have been thought worthy of confidence or place
under a government that has yet the minds of a considerable part of
the people to soothe, and the affections of a judicious and discerning
party to conciliate." [This letter was written before several important
amendments were made.]

"True policy should have dictated the most impartial distribution of

office in the new arrangement. It is a new and untried experiment into
which many of the people think they have been precipitated without
time for due consideration. Thy begin to feel the weight of taxes and
imposts to which they have not been accustomed. they begin to
inquire whether all the late energetic exertions were designed only to
subserve the interests of a certain party and to furnish salaries,
sinecures, and extravagant compensations for the favorites of the
army and the sycophants of power, to the exclusion of all who had not
adopted the creed of passive obedience."

A cool examiner, who may hereafter retrospect the period from the
establishment of the American Constitution to the close of the
administration of the first president will judge, on the detail of facts,
whether there was or was not just reason for the above observations.
Future historic writers may scrutinize and survey past transactions
with due criticism and candor, when whatever may have been
observed on any other subject, all will allows that no steps during the
civil functions of President Washington were so unpopular as the
Indian war, sanctioned by the President soon after the operation of
the measures of the new government and his ratification of a treaty
with Great Britain, negotiated by John Jay, Esquire. The appointment
of this gentleman to a diplomatic character, while Chief Justice of the
Supreme Court of the nation, was thought very objectionable, and
very sensible protest were entered in the Senate against the blending
of office. It was thought very incompatible with the principles of the
Constitution to act in the double capacity of a negotiator abroad and
the first officer of justice at home.
Notwithstanding these objections, Mr. Jay was commissioned and
repaired to England, ostensibly to require the surrender of the
western posts, the retention of

which had brought on the war with the savages, as observed above,
and to demand satisfaction for the depredations and spoliations that
had for several years been made on American commerce, in defiance
of the late treaty of peace. The war in which England as then
engaged against France had give a pretext for these spoliations. The
happiness and tranquility of the English nation had not appeared to
have been much enhanced either by the struggle or the termination of
the war with their former colonies. After the pacification of the nations
at war, and the conclusion of peace between Great Britain and
America, such feuds arose in England from various sources and
causes of discontent, as discovered that the nation for a time far from
being more tranquilized than a United States, previous to their
adoption of the present Constitution.

Indeed, the English nation had few causes of triumph; their system of
policy had been everywhere deranged and their fatal mistakes
exemplified in the distresses of their eastern dominions, as well as
those in the west. The confusion in the East Indies, and the
misconduct of their officers there, called aloud for inquiry and reform;
and amid the complicated difficulties which embarrassed the
measures of administration, their King became insane, the royal
family were at variance, and the heir apparent had many causes of
discontent, besides the alienation of his parents, which had been
some time increasing. The Parliament and the ministry were intriguing
for power, and various parties claimed the right to assume the reins of
government during the King's disability, and the recollections of all
were embittered by a retrospect of the misfortunes they had
experienced during the late war. Their losses had been incalculable,
nor could the wisest of their statesmen devise methods for the
payment of even the interest of the enormous national debt, and the
recovery of the nation to that scale of honor, prosperity and grandeur
they had formerly enjoyed.
In this summary view of the state of the British nation for the last ten
years, a treaty with England was not a very desirable object in the
eyes of many of the most judicious statesmen in America. Perhaps no
man was better qualified than Mr. Jay to undertake to negotiate a
business of so much delicacy and responsibility. He was a gentleman
of strict integrity, amiable manners, and complacent disposition;
whose talents for negotiation had been evinced by his firmness in
conjunction with his colleagues, when they effected a treaty of peace
at Paris, in 1783. But while in England, whether from the influence of
the Court of St. James or from any predetermined system with regard
to England or France or from the yielding softness of a mind, naturally
urbane and polite, is uncertain. Yet, whatever might have been the
principal operative cause, it is beyond a doubt that Mr. Jay fell from
that dignified, manly, independent spirit which ought to have marked
an American negotiator. He was led to succumb too far to the
dictations of Lord Grenville. This condescension, undoubtedly arose
more than the apprehension that he could not do better than from any
inclination to swerve from the interests of his country. The
consequence was, he agreed to a treaty highly advantageous to
Great Britain, degrading to the United States, very offensive to
France, the ally of America in the days of her tribulation, and who was
now herself at war with Great Britain, in conjunction with most of the
European potentates [See treaty of Pilnitze) combined to overthrow
the newly established government in France.

This government they had erected through civil convulsions that

distorted everything from its ancient form and order. Monarchy was
overthrown, their king decapitated, hierarchy abolished, and a
superstitious priesthood annihilated, amid the destruction of the lives
of thousands of all classes, an a series of such bloody deeds of
horror a freeze the soul of humanity on the recollection. These
revolutionary scenes in every nation are generally attended with
circumstances shocking to the feelings of compassion; yet,
undoubtedly all nations have a right to establish such modes and
forms of government as a majority of the people shall think most
 conducive to the general interest. The various causes which
contributed to more distressful scenes of barbarity than are usually
exhibited in so short a period may be left to the discussion of those
who have written or may write the history of the late revolution in
France and the character and conduct of that wonderful people.

It was with apparent reluctance that President Washington signed the

treaty negotiated by Mr. Jay. He hesitated and observed "that it was
pregnant with events." Many gentlemen of the first penetration
foresaw and dreaded the consequences of this diplomatic
transaction. Some scrupled not to declare that it was not only
"pregnant with events," but "with evils." But, notwithstanding it wore
so disgusting an aspect to more than one half the citizens of the
United States, it was ratified by a majority in the Senate, signed by
the President, and became the supreme law of the land.

This ratification created a division of sentiment which was artfully

wrought up until a disseveration of opinion appeared throughout the
union. In Congress, the parties on every great question seemed
nearly equally divided. Each had their partisans. The spirits of the
people were agitated and embittered to an alarming degree by the
extreme point of opposition in which the instrument was viewed. The
whole body of the people were designated under traits of distinction
which never ought to exist in the United States; and a struggle took
place, the consequences of which some future period must disclose.

It is disgraceful indeed to Americans, who had just broken the

shackles of foreign domination, to submit to the unhappy distinction of
British or French partisans. But the attachment of many to their old
allies, to whom they felt themselves obliged, of many others to the
British nation, its modes of government and its commerce,
occasioned such a stigma to mark them for a tie.

America should indeed forever have maintained a character of her

own, that should have set her on high ground, whence she might
have looked on from the pinnacle of independence and peace, and
only have pitied the squabbles, the confusion, and the miseries of the
European world. A quarter of the globe blessed with all the
productions of nature, increasing astonishingly in population,
improving rapidly in erudition, arts, and all the sciences necessary to
the happiness of man; bounded by a vast ocean, by rivers, by
mountains, that have been the wonder of ages, ought forever to hold
herself independent on any power on earth.

Imagination may indulge a pleasing reverie and suppose for a

moment that if the government of the United States had reared a
defense around her sea board, that might have reached to the
heavens by her bold inhibitions against all foreign connections or
commercial and political intercourse with distant nations, it might have
been the best barrier to her peace, liberty, and happiness. But there
are no mounds of separation, either natural or artificial, and perhaps
had it been practical there should have been, they might have been
penetrated by a thirst for wealth; commerce might have shaken them
to the foundation, or ambition might have broken down the
battlements.

Instead of guarding round the infant republic of America, by a total

detachment from foreign connections, affection, or influence, we have
already seen the inhabitants of the United States interesting
themselves beyond the common feelings of humanity in the
operations of European wars, dissensions, politics, and government.

It is not strange that the astonishing revolution in France should be

beheld with very extraordinary emotions. The world had viewed the
excision of a king, queen, and the royal family of the House of
Bourbon. The existing generation had witnessed the extinction of the
claims of a long line of ancestral dignitaries, that had been supported
from Charlemagne to Louis XVI, under all the appendages of
despotism that had oppressed its millions, until they had reached that
point of degradation and servility beyond which the elastic mind of
man can bend no farther. This yoke was broken, and the bars burst in
sunder by the strong hand of the people, and by the operations of a
resentment which discovered more than the imaginary reactions of
nature, among the inhabitants of a vast domain. This people had
been too long viewed as a nation of slaves, and their struggles for
freedom and the equal rights of man ought to have been cherished by
Americans, who had just obtained their own independence, by a
resistance that had cost them much of the best blood of their citizens.

But the Gallican nation at this period was not viewed with that
cordiality by some classes in America, which might have been
expected. The government of the United States manifestly discovered
a coolness to a nation which had so essentially aided the great
American cause, in the darkest of its days; a nation with whom the
United States had formed treaties and become the allies, from
interest, necessity, and gratitude, and to whom they yet felt
obligations that could not be easily canceled.

The President had indeed published a proclamation of neutrality, and

made great professions of friendship to the Republic of France. HE
also sent an envoy to reside there, while the government of France
was in the hands of the Directory. But it was thought the appointment
was not the most judicious.

A character eccentric from youth to declining age; a man of pleasure,

pride, and extravagance, fond of the trappings of monarchy, and
implicated by a considerable portion of the citizens of America as
deficient in principle, as not a suitable person for a resident minister
in France at so important a crisis. The Gallican nation was in the
utmost confusion. the effervescence of opposition to their revolution
boiling high in most parts of Europe. Dissensions were heightening in
America, and existing treaties in danger of being shaken. These
circumstances required a man of stable principles, and respectability
of character, rather than a dexterous agent of political mischief,
whose abilities and address were well adapted either for private or
court intrigue.

The exigencies of affairs, both at home and abroad, required an

American negotiator of different habits and manners. A supercedure
took place. Mr. Monroe, a gentleman of unimpeachable integrity,
much knowledge and information, united with distinguished abilities,
great strength of mind, and a strong attachment to the republican
system, was appointed and sent forward by President Washington.

A full detail of the state and situation of France on the arrival of Mr.
Monroe in a diplomatic character, the impressions that had been
made on the Directory, relative to American affairs, the conduct of his
predecessor [Governeur Morris.], and his own negotiations, may be
seen at large in a general view afterwards given by him of existing
prejudices which had arisen from misrepresentation, neglect, or
design, from the excision of the King of France, until the recall and
return of Mr. Monroe to his native country. It was generally believed
that America derived no advantage from the former minister's
repairing to England, after his mission was ended in France. He there
continued for some time, fomenting by his letters the jealousies that
had already arisen between the United States and the Republic of
France.

These jealousies were increased by a variety of causes and the

dissensions of party in America arose to such a height as to threaten
the dissolution of that strong cement which ought to bind the colonies
together forever. These differences of opinion, with the assuming
demeanor of some of his officers, who often urged to measures that
he neither approved nor wished for, rendered the President of the
United States less happy than he was before he sanctioned by his
name a treaty which was disgusting to almost every state in the
Union, and which perhaps he never would have signed, but from the
impressive influence of heads of departments, and other favorites
about his person. This was a class of men who had been implicated
by a considerable portion of the people as prompting the President of
the United States to call out a body of militia, consisting of 15,000
men, ostensibly to subdue a trivial insurrection at the westward,
which it was asserted by many judicious persons, acquainted with the
circumstances, might have been subdued by 500 only. [See Findley's
history of the disturbances in the back parts of Pennsylvania.] They
attributed this effort to a wish to try the experiment of the promptitude
with which an army might be called forth to subserve the purposes of
government, to enhance the dignity of office, and the supreme power
of the first magistrate. [General Hamilton was believed to be the
prime mover and conductor of this extraordinary business.] There
was certainly a class who aimed not so much to promote the honor of
the national character as to establish the basis of a standing army,
and other projects approaching to despotic sway, which cannot be
supported in America, without the aid of that dangerous engine.

It is dangerous indeed for the ear of the chief magistrate to be open to

favorites of such a complexion. Such a one will probably neglect his
old associates, and confer places on men of not the first abilities in
the Union. These are selected only in times of imminent danger; after
which their service, integrity and zeal are too frequently repaid by the
ingratitude of the people, which joins the cry of the artful, who have
never labored in the vineyard, to send them into oblivion.

The men most opposed to the British treaty negotiated in 1794, and
who stated their objections on the most rational grounds, were
generally those who had been distinguished for their patriotism,
firmness, and abilities. They had been very influential in a variety of
departments, previous to the year 1775. Nor had they ever relaxed in
their energies during the course of the war, to effect the emancipation
of their country from the tyranny of the crown of Britain, and to obtain
the independence of the United States.

These circumstances, with the approach of a period when nature

requires rest, rendered the weight of government oppressive to
declining age. The man who had long commanded, in a remarkable
manner, the affection, the esteem, and the confidence of his country,
again abdicated his power, took leave of the cares of state, and
retired a second time from all public occupations, to the delightful
retreats of private life, on is highly cultivated farm, on the banks of the
Potomac.

Previous to General Washington's second return to his rural

amusements, he published a farewell address to the inhabitants of
the United States, fraught with advice worthy of the statesman, the
hero, and the citizen. He exhorted them to union among themselves,
economy in public expenditure, sobriety, temperance, and industry in
private life. He solemnly warned them against the danger of foreign
influence, exhorted them to observe good faith and justice toward all
nations, to cultivate peace and harmony with all, to indulge no
inveterate antipathies against any, or passionate attachments for
particular nations, but to be constantly awake against the insidious
wiles of foreign influence, observing that "this was one of the most
baneful foes of republican government." This was indeed, after they
were split into factions; after an exotic taste had been introduced into
America, which had a tendency to enhance their public and to
accumulate their private debts; and after the poison of foreign
influence had crept into their councils, and created a passion to
assimilate the politics and the government of the United States nearer
to the model of European monarchies than the letter of the
Constitution, by any fair construction would admit. It was also, after
luxury had spread over every class, while the stimulus to private
industry was in a degree cut off by the capture of their shipping by the
belligerent powers, under various pretenses of the breach of
neutrality.

After this period new contingencies arose, and new discussions were
required with regard to foreign relations and connections, that had no
pacific operation, or any tendency to conciliate the minds, or to quiet
the perturbed spirits of existing parties.
The operations and the consequences of the civil administration of the
first president of the United States, notwithstanding the many
excellent qualities of his heart, and the virtues which adorned his life,
have since been viewed at such opposite points that further strictures
on his character and conduct shall be left to future historians, after
time has mollified the passions and prejudices of the present
generation. A new Constitution, and an extensive government, in
which he acted eight years as chief magistrate, open a new field of
observations, for future pens to descant on the merits or demerits of a
man, admired abroad, beloved at home, and celebrated through half
the globe. This will be done according to the variety of opinions which
will ever exist among mankind, when character is surveyed in the cool
moments of calm philosophy, which contemplates the nature and
passions of man, and the contingent circumstances that lift him to the
skies or leave him in the shad of doubtful opinion.

Public opinion is generally grounded on truth; but the enthusiasm to

which the greatest part of mankind are liable, often urges the
passions to such a degree of extravagance, as to confound the just
ratio of praise or reproach; but the services and merits of General
Washington are so deeply engraved on the hearts of his countrymen,
that no time or circumstance will or ought ever to efface the luster of
his well-earned reputation.

We have already seen that after the peace, the infant confederated
states exhibited scenes and disclosed projects that open too wide a
field for discussion to bring down a regular historical work, farther
than the moment when winds up the drama of the military, political,
and civil administration of a man, whose name will have a
conspicuous place in all future historical records.

History may not furnish an example of a person so generally admired,

and possess of equal opportunities for making himself the despotic
master of the liberties of his country, who had the moderation
repeatedly to divest himself of all authority and retire to private life
with the sentiments expressed by himself in the close of his farewell
address. He three observed, "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
favorite object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust of our
mutual cares, labors, and dangers."

The commander of the armies of the United States has been

conducted from the field of war, and from the zenith of civil command
tot he delicious retreats of peaceful solitude. We now leave him in
the shade of retirement, with fervent wishes that he may wind up the
career of human life in that tranquility which becomes the hero and
the Christian.

The administration of his immediate successor we shall also leave,

after some general observations on the character of a man who long
acted in the most conspicuous departments of American affairs. The
veracity of an historian requires, that all those who have been
distinguished, either by their abilities or their elevated rank, should be
exhibited through every period of public life with impartiality and truth.
But the heart of the annalist may sometimes be hurt by political
deviations with the pen of the historian is obliged to record.

Mr. Adams was undoubtedly a statesman of penetration and ability;

but his prejudices and his passions were sometimes too strong for his
sagacity and judgment.

After Great Britain had acknowledged the independence of the

dismembered colonies, Mr. Adams was sent to England, with a view
of negotiating a treaty of commerce; but the government too sore
from the loss of the colonies, and the nation too much soured by the
breach, nothing was done. He, however, resided there four or five
years; and unfortunately for himself and his country, he became so
enamored with the British Constitution, and the government,
manners, and laws of the nation, that a partiality for monarchy
appeared, which was inconsistent with his former professions of
republicanism. Time and circumstances often lead so imperfect a
creature as man to view the same thing in a very different point of
light.

After Mr. Adam's return from England, he was implicated by a large

portion of his countrymen as having relinquished the republican
system, and forgotten the principles of the American Revolution,
which he had advocated for near twenty years.

The political errors of men of talents sometimes spring from their own
passions; often from their prejudices, imbibed by local or incidental
circumstances; and, not infrequently, from the versatile condition of
man, which renders it difficult, at one period, to decide on the best
system of civil government; or at another, on the most effectual
means of promoting the general happiness of mankind. This may
lead the candid mind to cast a veil over that ambiguity which
confounds opinion, and that counteraction of former principles, which
often sets a man in opposition to himself and prevents that uniformity
of conduct which dignifies and that consistency which adorns the
character.

Pride of talents and much ambition were undoubtedly combined in the

character of the president who immediately succeeded General
Washington, and the existing circumstance of his country, with his
own capacity for business, gave him an opportunity for full
gratification of the most prominent features of his character.

Endowed with a comprehensive genius, well acquainted with the

history of men and of nations; and having long appeared to be
actuated by the principles of integrity, by a zeal for the rights of men,
and an honest indignation at the ideas of despotism, it was viewed as
a kind of political phenomenon, when discovered that Mr. Adams's
former opinions were beclouded by a partiality for monarchy. It may,
however, be charitably presumed that by living long near the splendor
of courts and courtiers, with other concurring circumstances, he might
become so biased in his judgment as to think that a hereditary
monarchy was the best government for his native country.
[Circumstances may in some future day render it necessary to adopt
this mode of government in the United States. Rome had not a
master until the people had become prepared for the yoke of their
dissensions and follies. These, more than the arm of Caesar, riveted
their chains, and sunk them to a level with the most abject and servile
nations.] From his knowledge of men, he was sensible it was easy to
turn the tide of public opinion in favor of any system supported by
plausible argumentation. Thus he drew a doleful picture of the
confusion and dissolution of all republics, and presented it to the eyes
of his countrymen, under the title of a "Defense of their constitutions."
This had a powerful tendency to shake the republican system through
the United States. Yet the predilection of Americans in general, in
favor of a republican form of government was so strong, that few had
the hardiness to counteract it, until several years after the United
States had become an independent nation.

On Mr. Adams's return from England, he undoubtedly discovered a

partiality in favor of monarchic government, and a few scrupled to
asset for a time that he exerted his abilities to encourage the
operation of those principles in America. But any further strictures are
unnecessary in this place on the character of a gentleman whose
official stations, abilities and services, amid the revolutionary conflict,
may probably excite some future historian to investigate the causes
of his lapse from former republican principles and to observe with due
propriety on his administration and its consequences while president
of the United States.

It is with more pleasure the writer records that notwithstanding any

mistakes or changes in political opinion, or errors in public conduct,
Mr. Adams, in private life, supported an unimpeachable character. His
habits of morality, decency, and religion rendered him amiable in his
family, and beloved by his neighbors. The opinions of a man of such
sobriety of manners, political experience, and general knowledge of
morals, law, and government will ever have a powerful effect on
society, and must naturally influence the people, more especially the
rising generation, the young men, who have not had the opportunity
of acquainting themselves with the character, police, and
jurisprudence of nations, or with the history of their own country,
much less with the principles on which the American Revolution was
grounded.

There is a propensity in mankind to enlist themselves under the

authority of names and to adopt the opinions of men of celebrity,
more from the fashion of the times than from the convictions of
reason. Thus with the borrowed language of their chieftain, they
impose upon themselves until they think his opinions are their own,
and are often wrought up to such a fierce spirit of contention that they
appear ready to defend them in all the cruel modes of the savage,
who is seldom actuated by motives of candor and forgiveness of
injuries.

Both history and experience have proved that when party feuds have
thus divided a nation, urbanity and benevolence are laid aside; and,
influenced by the most malignant and corrupt passions, they lose
sight of the sacred obligations of virtue, until there appears little
difference in the ferocious sprits of men in the most refined and
civilized society or among the rude and barbarous hordes of the
wilderness. Though some symptoms of the degradation of the
human character have appeared in America, we hope the cloud is
fast dissipating, and that no vicissitudes in human affairs, no intrigues
of the interested, or any mistakes of upright men will ever damp the
prospect of the establishment and continuance of a republican
system, which appears to be best adapted to the genius of
Americans. This form of government has the voice of the majority.
The energies and sacrifices of the sons of Columbia have been
exerted to leave a republican form, defined, modified, and digested
as a model to promote the happiness of posterity.
Yet there is still a division of parties, and a variety of sentiment,
relative to a subject that has heated the imaginations, and divided the
opinions of mankind, from the rise of the Roman Republic to the
destruction of her splendid Empire; and from that day to the present,
when the division of the literati of every age have called the attention
of genius and ability to speculate and to dissent in their ideas of the
best modes and forms of government.

It may be a subject of wonder and inquiry, that though so many ages

have elapsed and so great a part of the world been civilized and
improved that he science of politics is still darkened by the variety of
opinions that prevail among mankind. It may be beyond the reach of
human genius to construct a fabric so free as to release from
subordination, nor in the present condition of mankind ought it ever to
be wished. Authority and obedience are necessary to preserve social
order, and to continue the prosperity or even the existence of nations.
But it may be observed that despotism is not always the certain
consequence of monarchy, nor freedom the sure result of republican
theories

It would be presumption in the writer to entangle herself on a subject

of such magnitude and importance as to decide peremptorily whether
aristocratic, monarchic, or democratic government is best adapted to
the general happiness of the people. This shall be left to bolder pens.
She will indulge little farther this aberration of hers, after the
expression of her wishes that amid the heterogeneous opinions of a
theoretic age, America may not trifle away her advantages by her
own folly and levity, nor be robbed of any of the essential rights which
have cost her so dear, by the intrigues or ambition of any class of
men.

The speculative of every age have theorized on a system of perfect

republicanism, but the experiment has much oftener failed in practice
among all mankind, than been crowed with success. Those that have
come nearest thereto, the free states of Greece, the Achaean
League, the Amphyctions, and other confederacies fell under the
power of Philip, Alexander, and their successors. The republic of
Athens, the most conspicuous among the ancients, corrupted by
riches and luxury, was wasted and lost by the intrigues of its own
ambitious citizens.

The Roman commonwealth, the proud boast, the pattern, and

exemplar of all republics, fell under the despotism of a long line of
Caesars, generally the most debauched and brutal race of emperors
that ever disgraced human nature. More modern experiments,
Venice, and indeed all the Italian states who boasted their freedom,
were subjected to the tyranny of an oligarchy or aristocracy, frequently
more severe and cruel than that of monarchy. In England, the
struggles of Hampden and his virtuous associates were lost, and the
strong reasonings of the patriots of that day in favor of freedom were
obliterated after the death of Charles, by the artful, the hypocritical,
and the arbitrary Cromwell; and the most voluptuous of kings was
restored and reseated on the throne of Britain.

Thus, from the first of the Stuarts to the last of the line of Brunswick
who have yet reigned, their republican opinions and the freedom of
the nation have been in the wane, and have finally sunk into an
empty name under the tyranny of George III. Indeed, the most
enlightened, rational, and independent characters in Great Britain
continue still to defend the principles of liberty with their pens, while
they have had reason to apprehend its total extinction through the
realm.

Innumerable other instances might be adduced of the defeat of

republicanism, in spite of the efforts of its most zealous friends. Yet
this is no proof that this system of government may not be more
productive of happiness to mankind than that of monarchy or
aristocracy.

The United States of America have now a fair experiment of a

republican system to make for themselves. they may perhaps be
possessed of more materials that promise success than have ever
fallen to the lot of any other nation. From the peculiar circumstances
of the emigration of their ancestors, there is little reason to fear that a
veil of darkness, tyranny, and barbarity will soon overspread the land
to which they fled. These were a set of men very different in principles
and manners from any that are to be found in the histories of
colonization, where it may be observed the first planters have been
generally either men of enterprise for the acquisition of riches or
fame, or convicted villains transported from more civilized societies.

In the outset of the American Revolution, the arm of foreign power

was opposed by a people uncontaminated by foreign luxury, the
intricacies of foreign politics, or the theological jargon of metaphysical
skeptics of foreign extract. Philosophy then conveyed honorable
ideas of science, of religion, and morals. The character is since
degraded by the unprincipled sarcasms of men of letters, who assume
the dignity of philosophic thought. Instead of unfolding the sources of
knowledge and inculcating truth, they often confound without
convincing, and by their sophistical reasonings leave the superficial
reader, their newly initiated disciple, on the comfortless shores of
annihilation.

These observations are not confined to any particular nation or

character. The historians

of Britain and the philosophers and poets of France, Germany, and

England are perhaps equally culpable; and it is to be regretted that
America has not preserved a national character of her own, free from
any symptoms of pernicious deviation from the purest principles on
morals, religion, and civil liberty. She has been conducted through a
revolution that will be ever memorable, both for its origin, its success,
and the new prospects it has opened both at home and abroad. The
consequences of this revolution have not been confined to one
quarter of the globe, but the dissemination of more liberal principles in
government, and more honorable opinions of the rights of man, and
the melioration of his condition have been spread over a considerable
part of the world.

But men prone to abuse of best advantages, lent by the beneficent

hand of Providence, sometimes sport them away or confound causes
with effects, which lead to the most erroneous conclusions. Thus it
has been the recent fashion of courtiers and of a great part of the
clergy, under monarchic governments, to impute the demoralization
and skepticism that prevails to the spirit of free inquiry, as it regards
the rights of civil society. This fashion has been adopted by all anti-
republicans in America; but it may be asked whether the declamation
and clamor against the dissemination of republican opinions on civil
government, as originating the prevalence of atheistic folly is founded
on the basis of truth?

Examine the history of the ancient republics of Greece and the

splendid commonwealth of Rome. Was not the strictest regard paid to
the worship of their gods and a sacred observance of their religious
rites enjoined, until the Grecian republics were overthrown by
ambitious individuals? It was then that skeptical disputes more
generally employed the philosophers. In consequence of which, the
rulers and the people sunk into an indifference to all religion. The rich
city of Athens, particularly, was early corrupted by the influx of wealth,
the influence of aristocratic nobles, and the annihilation of every
principle connected with religion.

Survey the Roman commonwealth before its decline, when it was

most worthy of the imitation of republicans. Was not a general regard
paid to the worship of their deities among this celebrated people, and
a superstitious attention observed relative to omens, prodigies, and
judgments, as denounced and executed by their gods, until
republicanism was extinguished, the commonwealth subverted, and
the scepter of a single sovereign was stretched over that vast
empire? It was then that Caligula set up his horse to be worshipped,
as a burlesque on religion, and the sycophants of the court
encouraged every caprice of their emperor. the people did not
become so universally corrupt as to throw off all regard for religion,
and all homage to the deities of their ancestors, until the libidinous
conduct of their august sovereigns and the nobles of the court set the
example.

Nor do we read in more sacred history, through all the story of the
Israelites, that the fool ever said in his heart that there is no God, until
under the dominion of kings.

It may be observed in the character of more modern republics that

religion has been the grand palladium of their institutions. Through all
the free states of Italy, democracy and religion have been considered
in union. Some of them have indeed been darkened by superstition
and bigotry, yet not equally hoodwinked under republican
governments, as are the neighboring kingdoms of Spain and Portugal,
subjected to monarchic despotism.

By no fair deduction can it be asserted that the skepticism an the late

appearance of a total disregard to religious observances in France
are in consequence of the democratic struggles of the nation. The
dereliction of all religious principles among the literati of France, and
the abominable opinions of some of their philosophers cannot be too
much detested; but they have spring from various causes, remote
from political freedom, and too complicated to trace their origin, in a
page of cursory observations.

The French have long been a highly civilized, refined, luxurious

nation, divided into two classes, the learned and the infidel, the
ignorant and superstitious, both equally pursuing present pleasure,
with little regard to moral principle, the laws of reason, of God, or of
nature, any further than prompted by the gratifications of the
moment. The first were patronized by the court; the rich and the
noble had been generally infidel for more than a century before the
revolution. The last were poor, depressed, and degraded by
monarchic and prelatic power, until their indigence and misery
produced universal murmur, and revolution burst on a nation, too
ignorant to investigate the sources of their own wretchedness, and
too volatile and impatient to wait the operation of measures adapted
for relief by men of more information and ability than themselves.

Thus from the ignorance and imbecility of a people degraded by

oppression, and long the dupes of priestly as well as monarchic
tyranny, they naturally followed the lead of their superiors. These had
long been the infidel disciples of Voltaire, D'Alembert, and Diderot.
The atheistic opinions of these men and others of their character had
been cherished only by courtiers and academicians, until near the
middle of the 18th century, when their numerous adherents, who had
concealed their pernicious opinions under the veil of modesty, threw
off the mask, came out openly, an set religion at defiance. But the
shackles of superstition were not yet broken, nor were any
remarkable struggles made in favor of civil liberty, until the flame was
caught by their officers and soldiers and resistance to tyranny taught
them, while in union with the sober and pious Americans. They were
animated by the principles of freedom while they lent their arm in aid
of the energies of a people whose character had never been
impeached as favorers of atheistic opinions, and who were only
exerting their abilities, both in the cabinet and the field, in supporting
the civil and social rights of men.

On the return of this veteran band of officers and soldiers to their own
nation, they found as they had left, a voluptuous court, a licentious
and extravagant nobility, a corrupted priesthood, and an ignorant
multitude spread over the face of one of the finest countries on earth.
Yet the murmurs against tyranny and oppression had become so
general, that some ineffectual efforts for relief had been made without
any digested system of means that might produce it. Previous to this
period, some of their parliaments had discovered spirit and energy to
resist the despotic mandates of the crown; but the arm of royalty was
yet too potent to receive any check, while the whole nation was held
in bondage by the strong hand of their grand monarch.

These combined circumstances brought forward an assembly of

notables, and a national convention, neither of which were capable of
quieting the universal discontent and disaffection to royalty that
prevailed. Hence the destruction of the Bastille; the imprisonment and
decapitation of their king and queen; the

extermination of their nobility and clergy; the assassination of many of

their first literary characters; and the indiscriminate murder of ladies
of the first fame and virtue, and women of little consideration; of
characters of the highest celebrity, of nobles, magistrates, and men
without name or distinction.

These sudden eruptions of the passions of the multitude spread, like

the lava of a volcano, throughout all France, nor could men of correct
judgment, who aimed only at the reform of abuses, and a renovation
in all the departments, check the fury of the torrent. This confusion
and terror within, and an army without, sent on by the combined
despots of Europe, with the professed design of subjecting the nation
and re- establishing the monarch of France, gave an opportunity to
ambitious, unprincipled, corrupt, and ignorant men to come forward,
under pretense of supporting the rights and liberties of mankind,
without any views but those of disorder and disorganization. Thus, in
the midst of tumult and confusion, was indulged every vicious
propensity, peculation, revenge, and all the black passions of the soul.
The guillotine was glutted with the blood of innocent victims, while the
rapidity of execution and their jealousy of each other involved the
most guilty and cut down many of the blackest miscreants, as well as
the most virtuous characters in the nation.

But from the rise and progress of this period of horror, this outrage of
humanity, it is evident that it originated more from former monarchic
and priestly oppression than from the operation of infidel opinions,
united with republican efforts. In consequence of this state of things,
though there were very many characters of the best intentions,
principles, and abilities, animated and active for the promotion of civil
liberty in France, they had to regret with all the humane, benevolent,
and pious, that while engaged to eradicate the superstitions of their
country and the arbitrary strides of their civil rulers, law was
annihilated and even the government of Heaven renounced.. Thus,
all religious opinions were set afloat, the passions let loose, and all
distinctions leveled. Decency, humanity, and everything else
respected in civil society disappeared, until the outrages of cruelty
and licentiousness resembled the regions of pandemonium. Thus
was republicanism disgraced by the demoralization of the people,
and a cloud of infidelity darkened the hemisphere of France; but there
is nothing to countenance the opinion that skepticism was the origin
or the result of the struggles of the Gallican nation in favor of civil
liberty. [The above summary of the French Revolution was written
several years before monarchy was re-established in France.]

This people may have had their day of licentious enjoyment, of literary
fame, of taste, elegance, and splendor. They have abused His gifts
and denied the God of nature, who, according to the usual course of
His government among men, may devote them to that ruin which is
the natural consequence of luxury and impiety. Yet, the God of
Providence, when national punishment has been sufficiently inflicted,
may

bring them back again to a due sense of religion and order; while the
seeds of liberty, which they have disseminated far and wide, may
ripen in every soil, and in full maturity extend the branches of general
freedom through Europe, and perhaps throughout the world. After all,
we are inadequate to any calculation on future events. The ways of
Heaven are hidden in the depths of time, and a small circumstance
frequently gives a new turn to the most probable contingencies that
seem to measure the fate of men of empires. [The Duke D'Alencourt,
who visited the family of the author, in his exile under the tyranny of
Robespierre, observed justly that "the sources of disorder in France
were so innumerable that it was impossible to conjecture when
tranquility would be again restored or what maters or what
government the nation would sit down under, after their violent
convulsions subsided." Through a very interesting conversation
relative to the causes and consequences of the revolution, the
deepest marks of grief and sensibility sat on the countenance of the
noble sufferer, expressive of the pain he felt for the miseries of his
country, and the misfortunes of his family.]

We will now leave this extraordinary nation, which has furnished

materials for history of the most interesting nature, as it regards the
character of man; their civil, political, and religious institutions, and
the moral and social ties that connect society. From them we will look
over to the island of Britain, and survey the gradations of principles,
manners, and science, there. We shall find that Lord Herbert, one of
the first and most notorious infidels in England, sprung up under
kingly government; and none will deny that skepticism has prevailed,
and has been gathering strength both in France and England, under
monarchy, even before the correspondences of British infidels with
St. Evremond, and other skeptical Frenchmen. Hobbes, Hume, and
Bolingbroke were subjects of a king of England; and while their
disciples have been increasing, and their deistic opinions have
poisoned the minds of youth of genius and shaken the faith of some
even in clerical professions, yet no democratic opinions have been
generally spread over the nation.

In the zenith of British monarchy, and the golden age of nobility, while
republicanism has been quite out of fashion, has not the cause of
Christianity suffered by the fascinating pen of a Gibbon, whose
epithets charm while they shock, and whose learned eloquence leads
the believer to pause and tremble for the multitudes that may be
allured by the sophistry of his arguments, his satirical wit, the
elegance of his diction, and the beautiful antithesis of many of his
periods.

The elegance of his style confers an "alarming popularity on the

licentiousness of his opinions." The rise and fall of the Roman
republic will probably be read by many who have not the inclination
or the opportunity to study the writings of Locke, Boyle, Butler,
Newton, Clarke, and many others, who have by their example and by
the pen supported and defended the Christian system on principles of
reason and argument, that will forever adorn the character of
Englishmen. A writer of ingenuity has observed that "there are
probably more skeptics in England than in any other country." [Dr.
F.A. Wenderburne. He gives his reason for his assertion, page 475 of
his view of England at the close of the 18th century.] Yet, we do not
infer that the examples of infidelity that disgrace the world, by blasting
the principles of truth, though nurtured under princely patronage, are
in consequence of the cherishing influence of monarchy. Nor is it
more just to suppose that the writings of French philosophists or the
jejune trumpery that has for years exuded from the brain of other
theorists of that nation is the result of speculative opinions with regard
to civil liberty.

It is neither a preference to republican systems, nor an attachment to

monarchic or aristocratic forms of government that disseminates the
wild opinions of infidelity. It is the licentious manners of courts of
every description, the unbridled luxury of wealth, and the worst
passions of men let loose on the multitude by the example of their
superiors. Bent on gratification, at the expense of every moral tie, they
have broken down the barriers of religions, and the spirit of infidelity
is nourished at the fount; thence the poisonous streams run through
every grade that constitutes the mass of nations.

It may be further observed that there is a variety of additional causes

which have led to a disposition among some part of mankind to reject
the obligations of religion and even to deny their God. This propensity
in some may easily be elucidated without casting any part of the
odium on the spirit of free inquiry relative to civil and political liberty,
which had been widely disseminated an had produced two such
remarkable revolutions as those of America and France. It may be
imputed to the love of novelty, the pride of opinion, and an
extravagant propensity to speculate and theorize on subjects beyond
the comprehension of mortals, untied with a desire of being released
from the restraints on their appetites and passions; restraints dictated
both by reason and revelation; and which, under the influence of
sober reflection, forbid the indulgence of all gratifications that are
injurious to man. Further elucidations, or more abstruse causes,
which contribute to lead the vain inquirer, who steps over the line
prescribed by the Author of nature, to deviations form, and
forgetfulness of its Creator, and to involve him a labyrinth of
darkness, from which his weak reasonings can never disentangle
him, may be left to those who delight in metaphysical disquisitions.

The world might reasonably have expected from the circumstances

connected with the first settlement of the American colonies, which
was in consequence of their attachment to the religion of their fathers,
united with a spirit of independence relative to civil government, that
there would have been no observable dereliction of those honorable
principles for many ages to come. From the sobriety of their manners,
their simple habits, their attention to the education and moral conduct
of their children, they had the highest reason to hope that it might
have been long, very long before the faith of their religion was shaken
or their principles corrupted either by the manners, opinions, or habits
of foreigners, bred in the courts of despotism or the schools of
licentiousness.

This hope shall not yet be relinquished. There has indeed been some
relaxation of manners, and the appearance of a change in public
opinion not contemplated when revolutionary scenes first shook the
western world. But it must be acknowledge that the religious and
moral character of Americans yet stands on a higher grade of
excellence and purity than that of most other nations It has been
observed that "a violation of manners has destroyed more states than
the infraction of laws." [Montesquieu.] It is necessary for every
American with becoming energy to endeavor to stop the
dissemination of principles evidently destructive of the cause for
which they have bled. It must be the combined virtue of the rulers and
of the people to do this and to rescue and save their civil and
religious rights from the out-stretched arm of tyranny, which may
appear under any mode or form of government.

Let not the frivolity of the domestic taste of the children of Columbia,
nor the examples of strangers of high or low degree, that may
intermix with them, or the imposing attitude of distant nations, or the
machinations of the bloody tyrants of Europe, who have united
themselves and to the utmost are exerting their strength to extirpate
the very name of republicanism, rob them of their character, their
morals, their religion, or their liberty.

It is true the revolution in France had not ultimately tended to

strengthen the principles of republicanism in America. The
confusions introduced into that unhappy nation by their resistance to
despotism and the consequent horrors that spread dismay over every
portion of their territory have startled some in the United States, who
do not distinguish between principles and events, and shaken the
firmness of others, who have fallen off from their primary object and
by degrees returned back to their former adherence to monarchy.
Thus, through real or pretended fears of similar results, from the
freedom of opinion disseminated through the United States,
dissensions have originated relative to subjects not know in the
Constitution of the American republic. This admits no titles of honor
or nobility, those powerful spring of human action; and from the rage
of acquisition which has spread far and wide, it may be apprehended
that the possession of wealth will in a short time be the only
distinction in this young country. By this it may be feared that the spirit
of avarice will be rendered justifiable in the opinion of some, as the
single road to superiority.

The desire of distinction is inherent in the bosom of man,

notwithstanding the equality of nature in which he was created. Few
are the number of elevated souls, stimulated to act on the single
motive of disinterested virtue; and among the less powerful incentives
to great and noble actions, the pursuit of honor, rank, and titles is
undeniably as laudable as that of riches. The last, too, generally
narrows the mind, debased it by meanness, and renders it
disgracefully selfish, both in the manner of hoarding and squandering
superfluous wealth; but the ambitious, stimulated by a thirst for rank,
consider the want to generosity a stain on the dignity of high station.

It may be asked, are not those states the most likely to produce the
greatest number of wise and heroic spirits, where some mark of
elevation, instead of pecuniary compensation, is affixed to the name
and character of such as have outstripped their contemporaries in the
field of glory or integrity? A Roman knight ennobled for his patriotism
or his valor, though his patrimonial inheritance was insufficient for a
modern flower garden, was beheld with more veneration than the
most wealthy and voluptuous citizen. But we shall not here decide
how far honorary rewards are consistent with the principles of
republicanism. Indeed, some have asserted that "nobility is the
Corinthian capital of polished states;" but an ingenious writer has

observed that "a titled nobility is the most undisputed progeny of

feudal barbarism; that the august fabric of society is deformed and
encumbered by such Gothic ornaments. The massy Doric that
sustains it is labor, and the splendid variety of arts and talents that
solace and embellish life from the decorations of its Corinthian and
Ionic capitals." [Mackintosh's Vindiciae Galliciae, p. 77, 79.]

It is to be regretted that Americans are so much divided on this point

as well as on many other questions. We hope the spirit of division
will never be wrought up to such a height as to terminate in a
disseveration of the states, or any internal hostilities. Any civil
convulsions would shake the fabric of government, and perhaps
entirely subvert the present excellent Constitution; a strict adherence
to which, it may be affirmed, is the best security of the rights and
liberties of a country that has bled at every vein to purchase and
transmit them to posterity. The sword now resheathed, the army
dismissed, a wise, energetic government established and organized,
it is to be hoped many generations will pass away in the lapse of time
before America again becomes a theater of war.

Indeed, the United States of America embrace too large a portion of

the globe to expect their isolated situation will forever secure them
from the encroachments of foreign nations and the attempt of potent
Europeans to interrupt their peace. But if the education of youth, both
public and private, is attended to, their industrious and economical
habits maintained, their moral character and the assemblage of
virtues supported, which is necessary for the happiness of individuals
and of nations, there is not much danger that they will for a long time
be subjugated by the arms of foreigners, or that their republican
system will be subverted by the arts of domestic enemies. Yet,
probably some distant day will exhibit the extensive continent of
America, a portrait analogous to the other quarters of the globe, which
have been laid waste by ambition, until misery has spread her sable
veil over the inhabitants. But this will not be done until ignorance,
servility, and vice have led them to renounce their ideas of freedom
and reduced them to that grade of baseness which renders them unfit
for the enjoyment of that rational liberty which is the natural
inheritance of man. The expense of blood and treasure, lavished for
the purchase of freedom, should teach Americans to estimate its real
worth, nor ever suffer it to be depreciated by the vices of the human
mind, which are seldom single. The sons of America ought ever to
bear in grateful remembrance the worthy and of patriots who first
supported an opposition to the tyrannical measures of Great Britain.
Though some of them have long since been consigned to the tomb, a
tribute of gratitude is ever due to their memory, while the advantage
of freedom and independence are felt by their latest posterity.

The military character of the country has rung with deserved

applause. Many of the heroes who have been sacrificed in the field
are justly recollected with a sigh; but the laborious statesmen who
with ability and precision defined the rights of men, and supported the
freedom of their country; without whose efforts America never would
have had an army, are, many of them, neglected or forgotten. Private
virtue may be neglected; public benefits disregarded as they affect
the individual, while at the same time society feels their cherishing
beams, which like the silent rills that water the great garden of nature,
pour forth their bounties, unasked, on the whole family of ungrateful
man.

It has been justly said that "there is seldom any medium between
gratitude for benefits and hatred to the authors of them. A little mind is
hurt by the remembrance of obligations, begins by forgetting, and not
uncommonly ends by persecution." And, "that that circle of being
which dependence gathers around us is almost ever unfriendly. They
secretly wish the terms of this connection or equal. Increasing the
obligations which are laid on such minds only increases their burden.
They feel themselves unable to defray the immensity of their debt."
Thus the names of many of the men who laid the foundations of
American independence and defended the principles of the
Revolution, are by the efforts of the artful, depreciated, if not vilified.
The ancient Persians considered ingratitude as the source of all
enmities among men. They considered it "an indication of the vilest
spirit, nor believed it possible for an ungrateful man to love the gods
or even his parents, friends, or country."

The partiality to military honor has a tendency to nourish a disposition

for arbitrary power; and wherever there is a tyrannical disposition,
servility is its concomitant; hence, pride of title and distinction, and an
avarice for wealth to support it. Where these passions predominate,
ingratitude is usually added. This makes a tripodium to lift the
ambitious to the summit of their nefarious designs. Under an
established despotism, mankind are generally more prone to bend
than to resist; losing their ideas of the value of independence, the
timid, the doubtful, and the indiscreet, for the

most part, determine in favor of whatever wars the appearance of

established authority. This should be a lasting admonition which
should forever prevent the vesting any individual or body of men with
too much power.

The people of the United States are bound together in sacred

compact and a union of interests which ought never to be separated.
But the Confederation is recent, and their experience immatured.
They are, however, generally sensible that from the dictatorship of
Sulla to the overthrow of Caesar, and from the ruin of the Roman
tyrant to the death of the artful Cromwell, deception as well as
violence have operated to the subversions of the freedom of the
people. They are sensible that by a little well-concerted intrigue, an
artificial consideration may be obtained, far exceeding the degree of
real merit on which it is founded. They are sensible that it is not
difficult for men of moderate abilities and a little personal address to
retain their popularity to the end of their lives, without any
distinguished traits of genius, wisdom, or virtue. They are sensible
that the characters of nations have been disgraced by their weak
partialities, until their freedom has been irretrievably lost in that vortex
of folly which throws a lethargy over the mind, until awakened y the
fatal consequences which result from arbitrary power, disguised by
specious pretexts, amid a general relaxation of mankind.

An ingenious writer has observed that "the juvenile vigor of reason

and freedom in the New World, where the human mind was
unencumbered with that vast mass of usage and prejudice, which so
many ages of ignorance had accumulated to load and deform society
in Europe," brought forward those declarations of the rights of men,
which hastened the emancipation of their own country and diffused
light to others.

It is equally just to observe that in the 18th century, the enlightened

writers of Europe had so clearly delineated the natural rights of men,
that the equal freedom of the human race, before they by compact
had yielded a part for the preservation and safety of the whole, as to
have a powerful effect on public opinion. This had manifestly, in
some degree, broken the fetters that had long enthralled and
dissipated the darkness that shrouded the mind under the influence
of superstitious bigotry, and their ideas of the divine right of kings.
The Colossus of tyranny was shaken, and the social order meliorated
by learned sages, who evinced that government, as elegantly
expressed by one [Mackintosh.], is not "a scientific subtlety, but a
practical expedient for general good; all recourse to elaborate
abstractions is frivolous and futile, and the grand question in
government is not its source, but its tendency; not a question of right,
but a consideration of expediency.

"All the governments in the world," the same writer adds, "have been
fortuitously formed. They are the produce of chance, not the work of
art. They have been altered, impaired, improved, and destroyed by
accidental circumstances, beyond the foresight or control of wisdom.
Their parts thrown up against present emergencies, formed no
systematic whole. It was certainly not to have been presumed that
these fortuitous governments should have surpassed the works of
intellect and precluded all nearer approaches to perfection."

Perfection in government is not to be expected from so imperfect a

creature as man. Experience ha taught that he falls infinitely short of
this point; that however industrious in pursuit of improvements in
human wisdom, or however bold the inquiry that employs the human
intellect, either on government, ethics, or any other science, man yet
discovers a deficiency of capacity to satisfy his researches or to
announce that he has already found an unerring standard on which
he may rest.

Perhaps genius has never devised a system more congenial to their

wishes or better adapted to the condition of man than the American
Constitution. At the same time, it is left open to amendments
whenever its imperfections are discovered by the wisdom of future
generations, or when new contingencies may arise either at home or
abroad to make alterations necessary. On the principles of
republicanism was this Constitution founded; on these it must stand.
Many corrections and amendments have already taken place, and it
is at the present period [The beginning of the 19th century, which
circumscribes the limits of the supplementary observations subjoined
to the History of the Revolution.] as wise, as efficient, as respectable,
as free, and we hope as permanent, as any constitution existing on
earth. It is a system admired by statesmen abroad, envied by distant
nations, and revered by Americans. They pride themselves on this
palladium of safety, fabricated at a dangerous crisis, and established
on the broad basis of the elective voice of the people. It now
depends on their own virtue to continue the United States of America
an example of the respectability and dignity of this mode of
government.

Notwithstanding the advantage that may be derived and the safety

that may be felt under so happy a constitution, yet it is necessary to
guard at every point against the intrigues of artful or ambitious men
who may subvert the system which the inhabitants of the United
States judged to be most conducive to the general happiness of
society.

It is now indeed at the option of the sons of America to delegate such

men for the administration of government as will consider the
designation of this trust as a sacred deposit, which binds them to the
indispensable duty of aiming solely at the promotion of the civil, the
economic, the religious, and political welfare of the whole community.
They, therefore, cannot be too scrutinous on the character of their
executive officers. No man should be lifted by the voice of his
country to presidential rank who may probably forget the republican
designation, and sigh to wield a scepter, instead of guarding sacredly
the charter from the people. It is to be hoped that no American citizen
will hereafter pant of nobility. The senators of the United States
should be wise, her representatives uncorrupted, the judiciary firm,
equitable, and humane, and the bench of justice ever adorned by men
uninfluenced by little passions, and adhering only to the principles of
law and equity! The people should be economical and sober; and the
clergy should keep within their own line, which directs them to
enforce the moral obligations of society and to inculcate the doctrines
of peace, brotherly kindness, and the forgiveness of injuries, taught
by the example of their Divine Master, nor should they leave the
appropriate duties of their profession, to descant on political
principles or characters! [It is true that this respectable order of men
interested themselves on the great subject of opposition to the
aggressions of the British Parliament. This was sometimes done at
the request of legislators, who thought every aid necessary to awaken
the people to a sense of their rights. But the ground on which the
clergy came forward on political subjects was then very different from
the present party disputes. There was then, (with few exceptions) a
united opposition of the whole collective body of the people against a
foreign power aiming to deprive them of their civil and religious
privileges and to load them with taxes, impositions and innovations,
novel and grievous. The dissensions are now wholly internal, which
render the influence of every pious clergyman necessary to soothe
the passions and heal the animosities enkindled among the people of
his own particular charge.] Such a happy combination of propriety
and dignity in each department might prevent all apprehensions of
danger to religion from the skeptical absurdities of unprincipled men.
Neither the foolish, the learned, or licentious would be able to sap the
foundations of the Kingdom of Christ. In the present state of society
and general information, there is no reason to fear the overthrow of a
system, by the efforts of modern infidels, which could not be shaken
by the learned unbelievers of Greece, the persecutions of the
Caesars, nor the power of the Roman Empire.

All who have just ideas of the equal claims of mankind to share the
benefits of a free and benign government, and virtue sufficient to aid
its promotion, will fervently pray that the narrow passions of the
selfish or the ambitious views of more elevated minds may never
render fruitless the labors of the wise and vigilant patriot, who
sacrificed much to this noble purpose, nor defeat the severe efforts of
the soldier, who fell in the field, or stain the laurels of such as have
survived the conflict.
 However literature has been improved and knowledge diffused by the
pen of genius and the industry of liberal-minded and erudite
instructions, there has been a conspiracy formed against the
dissemination of republican opinions by interested and aspiring
characters, eager for the establishment of hereditary distinctions and
noble orders. This is a conspiracy formidable for the wealth and
talents of its supporters in Europe, and not less so from the same
description of men in America. This should stand as a beacon before
the eyes of an infant republic, recently established by the suffrages of
the inhabitants of the United States, who already have had to fear the
progress of opinion, which produced the American Revolution, might
change its complexion, and there might yet be a tyranny to depose,
more formidable than kinds.

Public opinion, when grounded on false principles and dictated by the

breath of ambitious individuals, sometimes creates a tyranny, felt by
the minority more severely than that usually inflicted by the hand of
the sceptered monarch. From this tyranny of opinion often starts a
political enthusiasm which is expressed by the Cardinal de Retz,
"would at one period exalt to a throne, and at another conduct the
enthusiast to a gallows." This tyranny of opinion is spread or
extinguished by factitious circumstances, sometimes combining to
exalt the mind to the most sublime ideas of human freedom; at
others, beclouding it with prejudices which sink it into habitual
servility, when reason languishes until overwhelmed by a torpor
become too general to awaken, without producing convulsion more to
be dreaded than submission, and too painful for the contemplation of
benevolent minds.

Great revolutions ever produce excesses and miseries at which

humanity revolts. In America, indeed, it must be acknowledged that
when the late convulsions are viewed with a retrospective eye, the
scenes of barbarity were not so universal as have been usual in other
countries that have been at once shaken by foreign and domestic
war. Few histories have recorded examples of equal moderation and
less violation of the feelings of humanity, where general revolt and
revolution had pervaded such an extensive territory. The enthusiasm
of opinion previous to the year 1775 bore down opposition like a
torrent, and enkindled the flame which emancipated the United
States. Yet, it was not stimulated by a fierce spirit of revenge, which,
in similar circumstances, too frequently urges to cruelties which can
never be licensed by the principles of justice or freedom, and must
ever be abhorrent to humanity and benevolence.

The United States may congratulate themselves on the success of a

revolution which has done honor to the human character by exhibiting
a mildness of spirit amid the ferocity of war, that prevented the
shocking scenes of cruelty, butchery, and slaughter, which have too
often stained the actions of men, when their original intentions were
the result of pure motives and justifiable resistance. They have been
hailed by distant nations in terms of respect and applause for the
glorious an successful stand made by them in favor of the liberties of
mankind. They have now to maintain their well-earned fame by a
strict adherence tot he principles of the Revolution and the practice of
every public, social, and domestic virtue.

The enthusiastic zeal for freedom which had generally animated all
classes throughout the United States was retained, with few
exceptions, to the conclusion of the war, without any considerable
appearance of relaxation in any part of the union, until the sword was
resheathed and the conflict terminated by a general peace. After this,
indeed, though the spirit for freedom was not worn down, a party
arose actuated by different principles. New designs were discovered,
which spread suspicions among the people that the object of their
exertions as endangered from circumstances they had never
calculated as probable to take place in their country, until some ages
had elapsed. But notwithstanding the variety of exigencies and the
new opportunities which offered to interested individuals for the
aggrandizement of family and the accumulation of wealth, no visible
dereliction appeared, nor any diminution of that general partiality in
favor of republicanism which had taken deep root in the minds of the
inhabitants of the United States. These principles did not apparently
languish until some time after the adoption of the new Constitution.
Exertions were then made to damp their ardor by holding up systems
of government asserted by some to be better adapted to their
happiness and absolutely necessary for the strength and glory of the
American states. The illusion was, however, discovered, and a
constitutional ardency for the general freedom revived among the
people. The feelings of native freedom among the sons of America,
and their own good sense taught them that they did not need the
appendages of royalty and the baneful curse of a standing army to
support it. They were convinced that rational liberty might be
maintained, their favorite system of republicanism might be revived,
established, and supported, and the prosperity of their country
heightened, at a less gorgeous expense than a resort to the usages
of monarchic states, and the introduction of hereditary crowns and
the proud claims of noble ancestry, which usually involve the mass of
the people in poverty, corruption, degradation, and servility.

Under the benediction of Divine Providence, American may yet long

be protected from sanguine projects and indigested measures that
have produced the evils felt or depictured among less fortunate
nations, who have not laid the foundations of their governments on
the firm basis of public virtue, of general freedom, and that degree of
liberty most productive of the happiness of mankind in his social
state. But from the accumulated blessings which are showered down
on the United States, there is reason to indulge a benign hope that
America may long stand a favored nation and be preserved from the
horrors of war, instigated either by foreign combinations or domestic
intrigue, which are equally to be deprecated.

Any attempt, either by secret fraud, or open violence, to shake the

union, to subvert the Constitution, or undermine the just principles
which wrought out the American Revolution, cannot be too severely
censured. It is true, there has been some agitation of spirits between
existing parties; but, doubtless, the prudence of the inhabitants of the
United States will suffer this to evaporate, as the cloud of the morning,
 and will guard against every point that might have the smallest
tendency to break the union. If peace and unanimity are cherished,
and the equalization of liberty, and the equity and energy of law
maintain by harmony and justice, the present representative
government may stand for ages, a luminous monument of republican
wisdom, virtue, and integrity. The principles of the Revolution ought
ever to be the polestar of the statesman, respected by the rising
generation; and the advantages bestowed by Providence should
never be lost by negligence, indiscretion, of guilt.

The people may again be reminded that the elective franchise is in

their own hands; that it ought not to be abused, either for personal
gratifications, or the indulgence of partisan acrimony. This advantage
should be improved, not only for the benefit of existing society, but
with an eye to that fidelity which is due to posterity. This can only be
done by electing such men to guide the national counsels, whose
conscious probity enables them to stand like a Colossus, on the
broad basis of independence, and by correct and equitable
arrangement, endeavor to lighten the burdens of the people,
strengthen their unanimity at home, command justice abroad, and
cultivate peace with all nations, until an example may be left on record
of the practicability of meliorating the condition of mankind.

The internal strength of America is respectable, and her borders are

fenced by the barriers of nature. May the wisdom, vigor, and ability of
her native sons, teach her to surmount every difficulty that may arise
at home or abroad, without ever calling in the aid of foreign relations!
She wants not the interference of any other nation to give a model to
her government, or secretly influence the administration by bribes,
flatteries, or threats. The enterprising spirit of the people seems
adapted to improve their advantages, and to rival in grandeur and
fame those parts of creation which for ages have been meliorating
and refining, until the period of decay seems to have arrived, that
threatens the fall of some of the proudest nations. Humanity recoils at
a view of the wretched state of vassalage in which a great part of
mankind are involved. Yet, American may sit tranquil, and only extend
her compassion to the European world, which exhibits the shambles
of despotism, where the purple of kings is stained by the blood of
their subjects, butchered by thousands to glut the ambition of a weak
individual, who frequently expires himself before the cup of his
intoxication is full. The vesture of royalty is, however, still displayed,
and the weapons of war spread death over three fourths of the globe,
without satiating the thirst that drinks up rivers of human gore, when
the proud victor wipes the stained lip and covers the guilty visage with
a smile at the incalculable carnage of his own species, by his
mandates an myrmidons.

It will be the wisdom and probably the future effort of the American
government, forever to maintain with unshaken magnanimity the
present neutral position of the United States. [The limits of the
present work preclude any historical record subsequent to the year
1801.] The hand of nature has displayed its magnificence in this
quarter of the globe in the astonishing rivers, lakes, and mountains,
replete with the riches minerals and the most useful materials for
manufactures. At the same time, the indigenous produce of its fertile
lands yields medicine, food, and clothing, and everything needful for
man in his present condition. America may, with propriety, be styled a
land of promise; a happy climate, though remarkably variegated;
fruitful and populous, independent and free. Both necessity and
pleasure invite the hand of the industrious to cherish and cultivate the
prolific soil, which is ready to yield all that nature requires to satisfy
the reasonable wishes of man, as well as to contribute to the wealth,
pleasure, and luxury of the inhabitants. It is a portion of the globe
that appears as a fair and fertile vineyard, which requires only the
industrious care of the laborers to render it for a long time productive
of the finest clusters in the full harvest of prosperity and freedom,
instead of yielding thorns, thistles, and sour rapes, which must be the
certain fruits of animosity, disunion, venality, or vice.

Though in her infantile state, the young republic of America exhibits

the happiest prospects. Her extensive population, commerce, and
wealth, the progress of agriculture, arts, sciences, and manufactures
have increased with a rapidity beyond example. Colleges and
academies have been reared, multiplied, and endowed with the best
advantage for public instruction on the broad scale of liberality and
truth. the effects of industry and enterprise appear in the numerous
canals, turnpikes, elegant buildings, and well-constructed bridges
over lengths and depths of water that open and render the
communication easy and agreeable, throughout a country almost
without bounds. In short, arts and agriculture are pursued with avidity,
civilization spreads, and science, in full research, is investigating all
the sources of human knowledge.

Indeed the whole country wears a face of improvement, from the

extreme point of the northern and western wood, through all the
southern states, and to the vast Atlantic Ocean, the eastern boundary
of the United States. The wisdom and justice of the American
governments, and the virtue of the inhabitants, may, if they are not
deficient in the improvement of their own advantages, render the
United States of America an enviable example to all the world of
peace, liberty, righteousness, and truth. The western wilds, which for
ages have been little known may arrive to that stage of improvement
and perfection beyond which the limits of human genius cannot
reach, and the last civilized quarter of the globe may exhibit those
striking traits of grandeur and magnificence which the Divine
Economist may have reserved to crown the closing scene, when the
angel of His Presence will stand on the sea and on the earth, lift up
his hand to heaven and swear by Him that liveth forever and ever,
that there shall be time no longer.

_______________
Typed by hand from the edition of 1805 by Richard Seltzer,
modernizing the spelling and punctuation and making other edits for
readability. The original three-volume work is 1317 pages long.
This edition Copyright (c) 2002 Richard Seltzer,
seltzer@samizdat.com Permission is granted to make and distribute
complete verbatim electronic copies of this item for non-commercial
purposes provided the copyright information and this permission
notice are preserved on all copies. All other rights reserved. Please
contact us first if you are interested in making copies for commercial
purposes, seltzer@samizdat.com Comments welcome.
Mercy wrote early drafts of this work near the time of the events
described, and completed the work about four years before it
appeared. She explains the delay was due to health problems,
temporary bouts of blindness, and grief at the death of her only son.
NB -- Mercy writes in the third person even when dealing with events
involving her immediate family. Keep in mind that James Otis (early
advocate of the rights of the colonies) was her brother, James Warren
(speaker of the Massachusetts House of Representatives) was her
husband, and Winslow Warren (would-be diplomat) was her son.
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