Chatham's measure was contemptuously rejected by the lords, as was a
similar measure of Burke's by the house of commons, and a petition of
the city of London in favor of the colonies by the king himself. With
the rejection of these efforts for conciliation began the great
struggle which ended eight years later in the severance of the
American colonies from the British crown. The congress of delegates
from the colonial legislatures at once voted measures for general
defense, ordered the levy of an army, and set George Washington at its
head. No nobler figure ever stood in the forefront of a nation's life.
Washington was grave and courteous in address; his manners were simple
and unpretending; his silence and the serene calmness of his temper
spoke of a perfect self-mastery. But there was little in his outer
bearing to reveal the grandeur of soul which lifts his figure, with
all the simple majesty of an ancient statue, out of the smaller
passions, the meaner impulses of the world around him. What
recommended him for command was simply his weight among his
fellow-land-owners of Virginia, and the experience of war which he had
gained by service in border contests with the French and the Indians,
as well as in Braddock's luckless expedition against Fort Duquesne.
[Footnote 62: From Book IV, Chapter II of the "History of the English
People."]
It was only as the weary fight went on that the colonists discovered,
however slowly and imperfectly, the greatness of their leader; his
clear judgment, his heroic endurance, his silence under difficulties,
his calmness in the hour of danger or defeat; the patience with which
he waited, the quickness and hardness with which he struck, the lofty
and serene sense of duty that never swerved from its task through
resentment or jealousy; that never, through war or peace, felt the
touch of a meaner ambition; that knew no aim save that of guarding the
freedom of his fellow-countrymen, and no personal longing save that of
returning to his own fireside when their freedom was secured. It was
almost unconsciously that men learned to cling to Washington with a
trust and faith such as few other men have won, and to regard him with
a reverence which still hushes us in presence of his memory. But even
America hardly recognized his real greatness while he lived. It was
only when death set its seal on him that the voice of those whom he
had served so long proclaimed him "the man first in war, first in
peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-countrymen."