CHAPTER V

FIRST BLOW AT THE CENTRE

[Portrait: J. Rutledge]

[Portrait: Will. Moultrie]

[Illustration: BATTLE OF FORT MOULTRIE, JUNE 28, 1776]

[Sidenote: Battle of Fort Moultrie, June 28, 1776]

[Sidenote: Lord Cornwallis arrives upon the scene]

Throughout a considerable portion of the country the news of the

Declaration of Independence was accompanied by the news of a brilliant

success at the South. After the defeat of Macdonald at Moore's Creek,

and the sudden arming of North Carolina, Clinton did not venture to

land, but cruised about in the neighbourhood, awaiting the arrival of

Sir Peter Parker's squadron from Ireland. Harassed by violent and

contrary winds, Parker was three months in making the voyage, and it was

not until May that he arrived bringing with him Lord Cornwallis. As

North Carolina had given such unmistakable evidence of its real temper,

it was decided not to land upon that coast for the present, but to go

south and capture Charleston and Savannah. Lord William Campbell,

refugee governor of South Carolina, urged that there was a great

loyalist party in that colony, which would declare itself as soon as the

chief city should be in the hands of the king's troops. That there would

be any serious difficulty in taking Charleston occurred to no one. But

Colonel Moultrie had thrown up on Sullivan's Island, commanding the

harbour, a fortress of palmetto logs strengthened by heavy banks of

sand, and now held it with a force of twelve hundred men, while five

thousand militia were gathered about the town, under command of General

Charles Lee, who had been sent down to meet the emergency, but did

little more than to meddle and hinder. In his character of trained

European officer, Lee laughed to scorn Moultrie's palmetto stronghold,

and would have ordered him to abandon it, but that he was positively

overruled by John Rutledge, president of the provincial congress, who

knew Moultrie and relied upon his sound judgment. The British

commanders, Clinton and Parker, wasted three weeks in discussing various

plans of attack, while the Americans, with spade and hatchet, were

rapidly barring every approach to Charleston, and fresh regiments came

pouring in to man the new-built intrenchments. At last Clinton landed

three thousand men on a naked sand-bank, divided from Sullivan's Island

by a short space of shallow sea, which he thought could be forded at low

tide. At the proper time Sir Peter Parker was to open a lively fire from

the fleet, which it was expected would knock down the fort in a few

minutes, while Clinton, fording the shoals, would drive out the

Americans at the point of the bayonet. The shoals, however, turned out

to be seven feet deep at low water, and the task of the infantry was

reduced to a desperate conflict with the swarms of mosquitoes, which

nearly drove them frantic. The battle thus became a mere artillery duel

between the fort and the fleet. The British fire was rapid and furious,

but ineffective. Most of the shot passed harmlessly over the low

fortress, and those which struck did no harm to its elastic structure.

The American fire was very slow, and few shots were wasted. The cable of

Parker's flagship was cut by a well-aimed ball, and the ship, swinging

around, received a raking fire which swept her deck with terrible

slaughter. After the fight had lasted ten hours, the British retreated

out of range. The palmetto fort had suffered no serious injury, and only

one gun had been silenced. The American loss in killed and wounded was

thirty-seven. On the other hand, Sir Peter's flagship had lost her

mainmast and mizzen-mast, and had some twenty shots in her hull, so that

she was little better than a wreck. The British loss in killed and

wounded was two hundred and five. Of their ten sail, only one frigate

remained seaworthy at the close of the action. After waiting three weeks

to refit, the whole expedition sailed away for New York to coöperate

with the Howes. Charleston was saved, and for more than two years the

southern states were freed from the invader. In commemoration of this

brilliant victory, and of the novel stronghold which had so roused the

mirth of the European soldier of fortune, the outpost on Sullivan's

Island has ever since been known by the name of Fort Moultrie.

[Sidenote: British plan for conquering the Hudson and cutting the United

Colonies in twain]

It was with such tidings of good omen that the Declaration of

Independence was sent forth to the world. But it was the last news of

victory that for the next six months was to cheer the anxious statesmen

assembled at Philadelphia. During the rest of the summer and the autumn,

disaster followed upon disaster, until it might well seem as if fickle

fortune had ceased to smile upon the cause of liberty. The issue of the

contest was now centred in New York. By conquering and holding the line

of the Hudson river, the British hoped to cut the United Colonies in

two, after which it was thought that Virginia and New England, isolated

from each Colonies other, might be induced to consider the error of

their ways and repent. Accordingly, General Howe was to capture the city

of New York, while General Carleton was to descend from Canada,

recapture Ticonderoga, and take possession of the upper waters of the

Hudson, together with the Mohawk valley. Great hopes were built upon the

coöperation of the loyalists, of whom there was a greater number in New

York than in any other state, except perhaps South Carolina. It was

partly for this reason, as we shall hereafter see, that these two states

suffered more actual misery from the war than all the others put

together. The horrors of civil war were to be added to the attack of the

invader. Throughout the Mohawk valley the influence of Sir John Johnson,

the Tory son of the famous baronet of the Seven Years' War, was thought

to be supreme; and it turned out to be very powerful both with the white

population and with the Indians. At the other end of the line, in New

York city, the Tory element was strong, for reasons already set forth.

On Long Island, the people of Kings and Queens counties, of Dutch

descent, were Tories almost to a man, while the English population of

Suffolk was solidly in favour of independence.

[Sidenote: Lord Howe's futile attempt to negotiate with Washington

unofficially]

Before beginning his attack on New York, General Howe had to await the

arrival of his brother; for the ministry had resolved to try the effect

of what seemed to them a "conciliatory policy." On the 12th of July Lord

Howe arrived at Staten Island, bringing with him the "olive-branch"

which Lord North had promised to send along with the sword. This curious

specimen of political botany turned out to consist of a gracious

declaration that all persons who should desist from rebellion and lend

their "aid in restoring tranquillity" would receive full and free pardon

from their sovereign lord the king. As it would not do to recognize the

existence of Congress, Lord Howe inclosed this declaration in a letter

addressed to "George Washington, Esq.," and sent it up the harbour with

a flag of truce. But as George Washington, in his capacity of Virginian

landholder and American citizen, had no authority for dealing with a

royal commissioner, he refused to receive the letter. Colonel Reed

informed Lord Howe's messenger that there was no person in the army with

that address. The British officer reluctantly rowed away, but suddenly,

putting his barge about, he came back and inquired by what title

Washington should be properly addressed. Colonel Reed replied, "You are

aware, sir, of the rank of General Washington in our army?" "Yes, sir,

we are," answered the officer; "I am sure my Lord Howe will lament

exceedingly this affair, as the letter is of a civil, and not of a

military nature. He greatly laments that he was not here a little

sooner." This remark was understood by Colonel Reed to refer to the

Declaration of Independence, which was then but eight days old. A week

later Lord Howe sent Colonel Patterson, the British adjutant-general,

with a document now addressed to "George Washington, Esq., etc., etc."

Colonel Patterson begged for a personal interview, which was granted. He

was introduced to Washington, whom he describes as a gentleman of

magnificent presence and very handsomely dressed. Somewhat overawed, and

beginning his remarks with "May it please your Excellency," Patterson

explained that the etceteras on the letter meant everything. "Indeed,"

said Washington, with a pleasant smile, "they might mean anything." He

declined to take the letter, but listened to Patterson's explanations,

and then replied that he was not authorized to deal with the matter, and

could not give his lordship any encouragement, as he seemed empowered

only to grant pardons, whereas those who had committed no fault needed

no pardons. As Patterson got up to go, he asked if his Excellency had no

message to send to Lord Howe. "Nothing," answered Washington, "but my

particular compliments." Thus foiled in his attempt to negotiate with

the American commander, Lord Howe next inclosed his declaration in a

circular letter addressed to the royal governors of the middle and

southern colonies; but as most of these dignitaries were either in jail

or on board the British fleet, not much was to be expected from such a

mode of publication. The precious document was captured and sent to

Congress, which derisively published it for the amusement and

instruction of the people. It was everywhere greeted with jeers. "No

doubt we all need pardon from Heaven," said Governor Trumbull of

Connecticut, "for our manifold sins and transgressions; but the American

who needs the pardon of his Britannic Majesty is yet to be found." The

only serious effect produced was the weakening of the loyalist party.

Many who had thus far been held back by the hope that Lord Howe's

intercession might settle all the difficulties, now came forward as warm

supporters of independence as soon as it became apparent that the king

had really nothing to offer.

[Portrait: Jon; Trumbull[9]]

[Sidenote: The military problem at New York]

The olive-branch having proved ineffectual, nothing was left but to

unsheathe the sword, and an interesting campaign now began, of which the

primary object was to capture the city of New York and compel

Washington's army to surrender. The British army was heavily reinforced

by the return of Clinton's expedition and the arrival of 11,000 fresh

troops from England and Germany. General Howe had now more than 25,000

men at his disposal, fully equipped and disciplined; while to oppose him

Washington had but 18,000, many of them raw levies which had just come

in. If the American army had consisted of such veterans as Washington

afterwards led at Monmouth, the disparity of numbers would still have

told powerfully in favour of the British. As it was, in view of the

crudeness of his material, Washington could hardly hope to do more with

his army than to make it play the part of a detaining force. To keep the

field in the face of overwhelming odds is one of the most arduous of

military problems, and often calls for a higher order of intelligence

than that which is displayed in the mere winning of battles. Upon this

problem Washington was now to be employed for six months without

respite, and it was not long before he gave evidence of military genius

such as has seldom been surpassed in the history of modern warfare. At

the outset the city of New York furnished the kernel of the problem.

Without control of the water it would be well-nigh impossible to hold

the city. Still there was a chance, and it was the part of a good

general to take this chance, and cut out as much work as possible for

the enemy. The shore of Manhattan Island was girded with small forts and

redoubts, which Lee had erected in the spring before his departure for

South Carolina. The lower end of the island, along the line of Wall

Street, was then but little more than half its present width, as several

lines of street have since been added upon both sides. From Cortlandt

Street across to Paulus Hook, the width of the Hudson river was not less

than two miles, while the East river near Fulton Ferry was nearly a mile

in width. The city reached only from the Battery as far as Chatham

Street, whence the Bowery Lane ran northwestwardly to Bloomingdale

through a country smiling with orchards and gardens. Many of the streets

were now barricaded, and a strong line of redoubts ran across from river

to river below the side of Canal Street. At the upper end of the island,

and on the Jersey shore, were other fortresses, with which we shall

shortly have to deal, and out in the harbour, as a sort of watch-tower

from which to inspect the enemy's fleet, a redoubt had been raised on

Governor's Island, and was commanded by Colonel Prescott, with a party

of the men of Bunker Hill.

[Illustration: VIEW OF NEW YORK IN 1776[10]]

[Sidenote: Importance of Brooklyn Heights]

In order to garrison such various positions, it was necessary for

Washington to scatter his 18,000 men; and this added much to the

difficulty of his task, for Howe could at any moment strike at almost

any one of these points with his whole force. From the nature of the

case the immense advantage of the initiative belonged entirely to Howe.

But in one quarter, the most important of all, Washington had effected

as much concentration of his troops as was possible. The position on

Brooklyn Heights was dangerously exposed, but it was absolutely

necessary for the Americans to occupy it if they were to keep their hold

upon New York. This eminence commanded New York exactly as Bunker Hill

and Dorchester Heights commanded Boston. Greene had, accordingly, spent

the summer in fortifying it, and there 9,000 men--one half of the

army--were now concentrated under command of Putnam. Upon this exposed

position General Howe determined to throw nearly the whole of his force.

He felt confident that the capture or destruction of half the American

army would so discourage the rebels as to make them lend a readier ear

to the overtures of that excellent peacemaker, his brother. Accordingly,

on the 22d of August, General Howe landed 20,000 men at Gravesend Bay.

From this point the American position was approachable by four roads,

two of which crossed a range of densely wooded hills, and continued

through the villages of Bedford and Flatbush. To the left of these the

Gowanus road followed the shore about the western base of the hills,

while on the right the Jamaica road curved inland and turned their

eastern base.

[Sidenote: Battle of Long Island, Aug. 27, 1776]

The elaborate caution with which the British commander now proceeded

stands out in striking contrast with the temerity of his advance upon

Bunker Hill in the preceding year. He spent four days in reconnoitring,

and then he sent his brother, with part of the fleet, to make a feint

upon New York, and occupy Washington's attention. Before daybreak of the

27th, under the cover of this feint, the British advance had been nearly

completed. General Grant, with the Highland regiments, advanced along

the coast road, where the American outposts were held by William

Alexander of New Jersey, commonly known as Lord Stirling, from a lapsed

Scotch earldom to which he had claimed the title. The Hessians, under

General von Heister, proceeded along the Bedford and Flatbush roads,

which were defended by Sullivan; while more than half of the army, under

Howe in person, accompanied by Clinton, Percy, and Cornwallis,

accomplished a long night march by the Jamaica road, in order to take

the Americans in flank. This long flanking march was completed in

perfect secrecy because the people of the neighbourhood were in sympathy

with the British, and it encountered no obstacles because the American

force was simply incapable of covering so much territory. The divisions

of Stirling and Sullivan contained the 5,000 men which were all that

Putnam could afford to send forward from his works. A patrol which

watched the Jamaica road was captured early in the morning, but it would

not in any case have been possible to send any force there which could

materially have hindered the British advance. Overwhelming superiority

in numbers enabled the British to go where they pleased, and the battle

was already virtually won when they appeared on the Jamaica road in the

rear of the village of Bedford. Scarcely had the fight begun on the

crest of the hill between Sullivan and the Hessians in his front when he

found himself assaulted in the rear. Thrown into confusion, and driven

back and forth through the woods between two galling fires, his division

was quickly routed, and nearly all were taken prisoners, including the

general himself. On the coast road the fight between Stirling and Grant

was the first in which Americans had ever met British troops in open

field and in regular line of battle. Against the sturdy Highland

regiments Stirling held his ground gallantly for four hours, until he

was in turn assaulted in the rear by Lord Cornwallis, after the rout of

Sullivan. It now became, with Stirling, simply a question of saving his

division from capture, and after a desperate fight this end was

accomplished, and the men got back to Brooklyn Heights, though the brave

Stirling himself was taken prisoner. In this noble struggle the highest

honours were won by the brigade of Maryland men commanded by Smallwood,

and throughout the war we shall find this honourable distinction of

Maryland for the personal gallantry of her troops fully maintained,

until in the last pitched battle, at Eutaw Springs, we see them driving

the finest infantry of England at the point of the bayonet.

The defeat of Sullivan and Stirling enabled Howe to bring up his whole

army in front of the works at Brooklyn Heights toward the close of the

day. To complete the victory it would be necessary to storm these works,

but Howe's men were tired with marching, if not with fighting, and so

the incident known as the battle of Long Island came to an end. A swift

ship was at once dispatched to England with the news of the victory,

which were somewhat highly coloured. It was for a while supposed that

there had been a terrible slaughter, but careful research has shown that

this was not the case. About 400 had been killed and wounded on each

side, and this loss had been incurred mainly in the fight between

Stirling and Grant. On other parts of the field the British triumph had

consisted chiefly in the scooping up of prisoners, of whom at least

1,000 were taken. The stories of a wholesale butchery by the Hessians

which once were current have been completely disproved. Washington gave

a detailed account of the affair a few days afterward, and the most

careful investigation has shown that he was correct in every particular.

But to the American public the blow was none the less terrible, while in

England the exultation served as an offset to the chagrin felt after the

loss of Boston and the defeat at Fort Moultrie, and it was naturally

long before facts could be seen in their true proportions.

[Sidenote: Howe prepares to besiege the Heights;]

[Sidenote: but Washington slips away with his army]

Heavy as was the blow, however, General Howe's object was still but half

attained. He had neither captured nor destroyed the American forces on

Long Island, but had only driven them into their works. He was still

confronted by 8,000 men on Brooklyn Heights, and the problem was how to

dislodge them. In the evening Washington came over from New York, and

made everything ready to resist a storm. To this end, on the next day,

he brought over reinforcements, raising his total force within the works

to 10,000 men. Under such circumstances, if the British had attempted a

storm they would probably have been repulsed with great slaughter. But

Howe had not forgotten Bunker Hill, and he thought it best to proceed by

way of siege. As soon as Washington perceived this intention of his

adversary, he saw that he must withdraw his army. He would have courted

a storm, in which he was almost sure to be victorious, but he shrank

from a siege, in which he was quite sure to lose his whole force. The

British troops now invested him in a semicircle, and their ships might

at any moment close in behind and cut off his only retreat. Accordingly,

sending trusty messengers across the river, Washington collected every

sloop, yacht, fishing-smack, yawl, scow, or row-boat that could be found

in either water from the Battery to King's Bridge or Hell Gate; and

after nightfall of the 29th, these craft were all assembled at the

Brooklyn ferry, and wisely manned by the fishermen of Marblehead and

Gloucester from Glover's Essex regiment, experts, every one of them,

whether at oar or sail. All through the night the American troops were

ferried across the broad river, as quietly as possible and in excellent

order, while Washington superintended the details of the embarkation,

and was himself the last man to leave the ground. At seven o'clock in

the morning the whole American army had landed on the New York side, and

had brought with them all their cannon, small arms, ammunition, tools,

and horses, and all their larder besides, so that when the bewildered

British climbed into the empty works they did not find so much as a

biscuit or a glass of rum wherewith to console themselves.

[Illustration: BEDFORD CORNERS, LONG ISLAND, IN 1776.[11]]

[Sidenote: His vigilance robbed the British of the most golden

opportunity ever afforded them]

This retreat has always been regarded as one of the most brilliant

incidents in Washington's career, and it would certainly be hard to find

a more striking example of vigilance. Had Washington allowed himself to

be cooped up on Brooklyn Heights he would have been forced to surrender;

and whatever was left of the war would have been a game played without

queen, rook, or bishop. For this very reason it is hardly creditable to

Howe that he should have let his adversary get away so easily. At

daybreak, indeed, the Americans had been remarkably favoured by the

sudden rise of a fog which covered the East river, but during the night

the moon had shone brightly, and one can only wonder that the

multitudinous plash of oars and the unavoidable murmur of ten thousand

men embarking, with their heavy guns and stores, should not have

attracted the attention of some wakeful sentinel, either on shore or

on the fleet. A storming party of British, at the right moment, would at

least have disturbed the proceedings. So rare a chance of ending the war

at a blow was never again to be offered to the British commanders.

Washington now stationed the bulk of his army along the line of the

Harlem river, leaving a strong detachment in the city under Putnam; and

presently, with the same extraordinary skill which he had just displayed

in sending boats under the very eyes of the fleet, he withdrew Colonel

Prescott and his troops from their exposed position on Governor's

Island, which there was no longer any reason for holding.

[Sidenote: The conference at Staten Island, Sept. 11]

Hoping that the stroke just given by the British sword might have

weakened the obstinacy of the Americans, Lord Howe again had recourse to

the olive-branch. The captured General Sullivan was sent to Congress to

hold out hopes that Lord Howe would use his influence to get all the

obnoxious acts of Parliament repealed, only he would first like to

confer with some of the members of Congress informally and as with mere

private gentlemen. A lively debate ensued upon this proposal, in which

some saw an insult to Congress, while all quite needlessly suspected

treachery. John Adams, about whom there was so much less of the

_suaviter in modo_ than of the _fortiter in re_, alluded to Sullivan,

quite unjustly, as a "decoy duck," who had better have been shot in the

battle than employed on such a business. It was finally voted that no

proposals of peace from Great Britain should receive notice, unless they

should be conveyed in writing, and should explicitly recognize Congress

as the legal representative of the American States. For this once,

however, out of personal regard for Lord Howe, and that nothing might be

disdained which really looked toward a peaceful settlement, they would

send a committee to Staten Island to confer with his lordship, who might

regard this committee in whatever light he pleased. In this shrewd,

half-humorous method of getting rid of the diplomatic difficulty, one is

forcibly reminded of President Lincoln's famous proclamation addressed

"To whom it may concern." The committee, consisting of Franklin,

Rutledge, and John Adams, were hospitably entertained by Lord Howe, but

their conference came to nothing, because the Americans now demanded a

recognition of their independence as a condition which must precede all

negotiation. There is no doubt that Lord Howe, who was a warm friend to

the Americans and an energetic opponent of the king's policy, was

bitterly grieved at this result. As a last resort he published a

proclamation announcing the intention of the British government to

reconsider the various acts and instructions by which the Americans had

been annoyed, and appealing to all right-minded people to decide for

themselves whether it were not wise to rely on a solemn promise like

this, rather than commit themselves to the dangerous chances of an

unequal and unrighteous war.

[Sidenote: Howe takes the city of New York, Sept. 15]

[Sidenote: but Mrs. Lindley Murray saves the garrison]

[Sidenote: Attack upon Harlem Heights Sept 16]

Four days after this futile interview General Howe took possession of

New York. After the loss of Brooklyn Heights, Washington and Greene were

already aware that the city could not be held. Its capture was very

easily effected. Several ships-of-the-line ascended the Hudson as far as

Bloomingdale, and the East river as far as Blackwell's Island; and while

thus from either side these vessels swept the northern part of Manhattan

with a searching fire, General Howe brought his army across from

Brooklyn in boats and landed at Kipp's Bay, near the present site of

East Thirty-Fourth Street. Washington came promptly down, with two New

England brigades, to reinforce the men whom he had stationed at that

point, and to hinder the landing of the enemy until Putnam should have

time to evacuate the city. To Washington's wrath and disgust, these men

were seized with panic, and suddenly turned and fled without firing a

shot. Had Howe now thrown his men promptly forward across the line of

Thirty-Fourth Street, he would have cut off Putnam's retreat from the

city. But what the New England brigades failed to do a bright woman

succeeded in accomplishing. When Howe had reached the spot known as

Murray Hill,--now the centre of much brownstone magnificence in Park and

Madison and Fifth avenues, at that time a noble country farmstead,--Mrs.

Lindley Murray, mother of the famous grammarian, well knowing the easy

temper of the British commander, sent out a servant to invite him to

stop and take luncheon. A general halt was ordered; and while Howe and

his officers were gracefully entertained for more than two hours by

their accomplished and subtle hostess, Putnam hastily marched his 4,000

men up the shore of the Hudson, until, passing Bloomingdale, he touched

the right wing of the main army, and was safe, though his tents,

blankets, and heavy guns had been left behind. The American lines now

extended from the mouth of Harlem river across the island, and on the

following day the British attempted to break through their centre at

Harlem Heights, but the attack was repulsed, with a loss of sixty

Americans and three hundred British, and the lines just formed remained,

with very little change, for nearly four weeks.

[Illustration: MANHATTAN ISLAND in 1776.]

[Sidenote: The new problem before Howe]

General Howe had thus got possession of the city of New York, but the

conquest availed him little so long as the American army stood across

the island, in the attitude of blockading him. If this campaign was to

decide the war, as the ministry hoped, nothing short of the capture or

dispersal of Washington's army would suffice. But the problem was now

much harder than it had been at Brooklyn. For as the land above

Manhattan Island widens rapidly to the north and east, it would not be

easy to hem Washington in by sending forces to his rear. As soon as he

should find his position imperilled, he would possess the shorter line

by which to draw his battalions, together and force an escape, and so

the event proved. Still, with Howe's superior force and with his fleet,

if he could get up the Hudson to the rear of the American right, and at

the same time land troops from the Sound in the rear of the American

left, it was possible that Washington might be compelled to surrender.

There was nothing to bar Howe's passage up the East river to the Sound;

but at the northern extremity of Manhattan Island the ascent of the

Hudson was guarded on the east by Fort Washington, under command of

Putnam, and on the west by Fort Lee, standing on the summit of the lofty

cliffs known as the Palisades, and commanded by Greene. It was still

doubtful, however, whether these two strongholds could effectually bar

the ascent of so broad a river, and for further security Putnam

undertook to place obstructions in the bed of the stream itself. Both

the Continental Congress and the State Convention of New York were

extremely unwilling that these two fortresses should in any event be

given up, for in no case must the Hudson river be abandoned. Putnam and

Greene thought that the forts could be held, but by the 9th of October

it was proved that they could not bar the passage of the river, for on

that day two frigates ran safely between them, and captured some small

American craft a short distance above.

[Sidenote: Howe moves upon Throg's Neck, but Washington changes base]

This point having been ascertained, General Howe, on the 12th, leaving

Percy in command before Harlem Heights, moved the greater part of his

army nine miles up the East river to Throg's Neck, a peninsula in the

Sound, separated from the mainland by a narrow creek and a marsh that

was overflowed at high tide. By landing here suddenly, Howe hoped to get

in Washington's rear and cut him off from his base of supply in

Connecticut. But Washington had foreseen the move and forestalled it.

When Howe arrived at Throg's Neck, he found the bridge over the creek

destroyed, and the main shore occupied by a force which it would be

dangerous to try to dislodge by wading across the marsh. While Howe was

thus detained six days on the peninsula Washington moved his base to

White Plains, and concentrated his whole army at that point, abandoning

everything on Manhattan Island except Fort Washington. Sullivan,

Stirling, and Morgan who had just been exchanged, now rejoined the army,

and Lee also arrived from South Carolina.

[Sidenote: Baffled at White Plains, Howe tries a new plan]

By this movement to White Plains, Washington had foiled Howe's attempt

to get in his rear, and the British general decided to try the effect of

an attack in front. On the 28th of October he succeeded in storming an

outpost at Chatterton Hill, losing 229 lives, while the Americans lost

140. But this affair, which is sometimes known as the battle of White

Plains, seems to have discouraged Howe. Before renewing the attack he

waited three days, thinking perhaps of Bunker Hill; and on the last

night of October, Washington fell back upon North Castle, where he took

a position so strong that it was useless to think of assailing him. Howe

then changed his plans entirely, and moved down the east bank of the

Hudson to Dobb's Ferry, whence he could either attack Fort Washington or

cross into New Jersey and advance upon Philadelphia, the "rebel

capital." The purpose of this change was to entice Washington from his

unassailable position.

[Sidenote: Washington's orders in view of the emergency]

To meet this new movement, Washington threw his advance of 5,000 men,

under Putnam, into New Jersey, where they encamped near Hackensack; he

sent Heath up to Peekskill, with 3,000 men, to guard the entrance to the

Highlands; and he left Lee at North Castle, with 7,000 men, and ordered

him to coöperate with him promptly in whatever direction, as soon as the

nature of Howe's plans should become apparent. As Forts Washington and

Lee detained a large force in garrison, while they had shown themselves

unable to prevent ships from passing up the river, there was no longer

any use in holding them. Nay, they had now become dangerous, as traps in

which the garrisons and stores might be suddenly surrounded and

captured. Washington accordingly resolved to evacuate them both, while,

to allay the fears of Congress in the event of a descent from Canada, he

ordered Heath to fortify the much more important position at West Point.

[Sidenote: Congress meddles with the situation and muddles it]

Had Washington's orders been obeyed and his plans carried out, history

might still have recorded a retreat through "the Jerseys," but how

different a retreat from that which was now about to take place! The

officious interference of Congress, a venial error of judgment on the

part of Greene, and gross insubordination on the part of Lee, occurring

all together at this critical moment, brought about the greatest

disaster of the war, and came within an ace of overwhelming the American

cause in total and irretrievable ruin. Washington instructed Greene, who

now commanded both fortresses, to withdraw the garrison and stores from

Fort Washington, and to make arrangements for evacuating Fort Lee also.

At the same time he did not give a positive order, but left the matter

somewhat within Greene's discretion, in case military circumstances of

an unforeseen kind should arise. Then, while Washington had gone up to

reconnoitre the site for the new fortress at West Point, there came a

special order from Congress that Fort Washington should not be abandoned

save under direst extremity. If Greene had thoroughly grasped

Washington's view of the case, he would have disregarded this

conditional order, for there could hardly be a worse extremity than that

which the sudden capture of the fortress would entail. But Greene's mind

was not quite clear; he believed that the fort could be held, and he did

not like to take the responsibility of disregarding a message from

Congress. In this dilemma he did the worst thing possible: he reinforced

the doomed garrison, and awaited Washington's return.

[Illustration: REMAINS OF FORT WASHINGTON, NEW YORK, 1856]

[Sidenote: Howe takes Fort Washington by storm, Nov. 16]

When the commander-in-chief returned, on the 14th, he learned with

dismay that nothing had been done. But it was now too late to mend

matters, for that very night several British vessels passed up between

the forts, and the next day Howe appeared before Fort Washington with

an overwhelming force, and told Colonel Magaw, the officer in charge,

that if he did not immediately surrender the whole garrison would be put

to the sword. Magaw replied that if Howe wanted his fort he must come

and take it. On the 16th, after a sharp struggle, in which the Americans

fought with desperate gallantry though they were outnumbered more than

five to one, the works were carried, and the whole garrison was

captured. The victory cost the British more than 500 men in killed and

wounded. The Americans, fighting behind their works, lost but 150; but

they surrendered 3,000 of the best troops in their half-trained army,

together with an immense quantity of artillery and small arms. It was

not in General Howe's kindly nature to carry out his savage threat of

the day before; but some of the Hessians, maddened with the stubborn

resistance they had encountered, began murdering their prisoners in cold

blood, until they were sharply called to order. From Fort Lee, on the

opposite bank of the river, Washington surveyed this woful surrender

with his usual iron composure; but when it came to seeing his brave men

thrown down and stabbed to death by the Hessian bayonets, his

overwrought heart could bear it no longer, and he cried and sobbed like

a child.

[Sidenote: Washington and Greene]

This capture of the garrison of Fort Washington was one of the most

crushing blows that befell the American arms during the whole course of

the war. Washington's campaign seemed now likely to be converted into a

mere flight, and a terrible gloom overspread the whole country. The

disaster was primarily due to the interference of Congress. It might

have been averted by prompt and decisive action on the part of Greene.

But Washington, whose clear judgment made due allowance for all the

circumstances, never for a moment cast any blame upon his subordinate.

The lesson was never forgotten by Greene, whose intelligence was of that

high order which may indeed make a first mistake, but never makes a

second. The friendship between the two generals became warmer than ever.

Washington, by a sympathetic instinct, had divined from the outset the

military genius that was by and by to prove scarcely inferior to his

own.

[Illustration: GENERAL GREENE'S HEADQUARTERS, FORT LEE, NEW JERSEY]

[Sidenote: Outrageous conduct of Charles Lee]

Yet worse remained behind. Washington had but 6,000 men on the Jersey

side of the river, and it was now high time for Lee to come over from

North Castle and join him, with the force of 7,000 that had been left

under his command. On the 17th, Washington sent a positive order for him

to cross the river at once; but Lee dissembled, pretended to regard the

order in the light of mere advice, and stayed where he was. He occupied

an impregnable position: why should he leave it, and imperil a force

with which he might accomplish something memorable on his own account?

By the resignation of General Ward, Lee had become the senior

major-general of the Continental army, and in the event of disaster to

Washington he would almost certainly become commander-in-chief. He had

returned from South Carolina more arrogant and loud-voiced than ever.

The northern people knew little of Moultrie, while they supposed Lee to

be a great military light; and the charlatan accordingly got the whole

credit of the victory, which, if his precious advice had been taken,

would never have been won. Lee was called the hero of Charleston, and

people began to contrast the victory of Sullivan's Island with the

recent defeats, and to draw conclusions very disparaging to Washington.

From the beginning Lee had felt personally aggrieved at not being

appointed to the chief command, and now he seemed to see a fair chance

of ruining his hated rival. Should he come to the head of the army in a

moment of dire disaster to the Americans, it would be so much the

better, for it would be likely to open negotiations with Lord Howe, and

Lee loved to chaffer and intrigue much better than to fight. So he spent

his time in endeavouring, by insidious letters and lying whispers, to

nourish the feeling of disaffection toward Washington, while he refused

to send a single regiment to his assistance. Thus, through the villainy

of this traitor in the camp, Washington actually lost more men, so far

as their present use was concerned at this most critical moment, than he

had been deprived of by all the blows which the enemy had dealt him

since the beginning of the campaign.

[Sidenote: Greene barely escapes from Fort Lee, Nov. 20]

[Signature: James Bowdoin]

[Sidenote: Lee intrigues against Washington]

On the night of the 19th, Howe threw 5,000 men across the river, about

five miles above Fort Lee, and with this force Lord Cornwallis marched

rapidly down upon that stronghold. The place had become untenable, and

it was with some difficulty that a repetition of the catastrophe of Fort

Washington was avoided. Greene had barely time, with his 2,000 men, to

gain the bridge over the Hackensack and join the main army, leaving

behind all his cannon, tents, blankets, and eatables. The position now

occupied by the main army, between the Hackensack and Passaic rivers,

was an unsafe one, in view of the great superiority of the enemy in

numbers. A strong British force, coming down upon Washington from the

north, might compel him to surrender or to fight at a great

disadvantage. To avoid this danger, on the 21st he crossed the Passaic

and marched southwestward to Newark, where he stayed five days; and

every day he sent a messenger to Lee, urging him to make all possible

haste in bringing over his half of the army, that they might be able to

confront the enemy on something like equal terms. Nothing could have

been more explicit or more peremptory than Washington's orders; but Lee

affected to misunderstand them, sent excuses, raised objections,

paltered, argued, prevaricated, and lied, and so contrived to stay where

he was until the first of December. To Washington he pretended that his

moving was beset by "obstacles," the nature of which he would explain as

soon as they should meet. But to James Bowdoin, president of the

executive council of Massachusetts, he wrote at the same time declaring

that his own army and that under Washington "must rest each on its own

bottom." He assumed command over Heath, who had been left to guard the

Highlands, and ordered him to send 2,000 troops to himself; but that

officer very properly refused to depart from the instructions which the

commander-in-chief had left with him. To various members of Congress Lee

told the falsehood that if _his_ advice had only been heeded, Fort

Washington would have been evacuated ere it was too late; and he wrote

to Dr. Rush, wondering whether any of the members of Congress had ever

studied Roman history, and suggesting that he might do great things if

he could only be made Dictator for one week.

[Sidenote: Washington retreats into Pennsylvania]

Meanwhile Washington, unable to risk a battle, was rapidly retreating

through New Jersey. On the 28th of November Cornwallis advanced upon

Newark, and Washington fell back upon New Brunswick. On the first of

December, as Cornwallis reached the latter place, Washington broke down

the bridge over the Raritan, and continued his retreat to Princeton. The

terms of service for which his troops had been enlisted were now

beginning to expire, and so great was the discouragement wrought by the

accumulation of disasters which had befallen the army since the battle

of Long Island that many of the soldiers lost heart in their work.

Homesickness began to prevail, especially among the New England troops,

and as their terms expired it was difficult to persuade them to

reënlist. Under these circumstances the army dwindled fast, until, by

the time he reached Princeton, Washington had but 3,000 men remaining at

his disposal. The only thing to be done was to put the broad stream of

the Delaware between himself and the enemy, and this he accomplished by

the 8th, carrying over all his guns and stores, and seizing or

destroying every boat that could be found on that great river for many

miles in either direction. When the British arrived, on the evening of

the same day, they found it impossible to cross. Cornwallis was eager to

collect a flotilla of boats as soon as practicable, and push on to

Philadelphia, but Howe, who had just joined him, thought it hardly worth

while to take so much trouble, as the river would be sure to freeze

over before many days. So the army was posted--with front somewhat too

far extended--along the east bank, with its centre at Trenton, under

Colonel Rahl; and while they waited for that "snap" of intensely cold

weather, which in this climate seldom fails to come on within a few days

of Christmas, Howe and Cornwallis both went back to New York.

[Sidenote: Reinforcements come from Schuyler]

Meanwhile, on the 2d of December, Lee had at last crossed the Hudson

with a force diminished to 4,000 men, and had proceeded by slow marches

as far as Morristown. Further reinforcements were at hand. General

Schuyler, in command of the army which had retreated the last summer

from Canada, was guarding the forts on Lake Champlain; and as these

appeared to be safe for the present, he detached seven regiments to go

to the aid of Washington. As soon as Lee heard of the arrival of three

of these regiments at Peekskill, he ordered them to join him at

Morristown. As the other four, under General Gates, were making their

way through northern New Jersey, doubts arose as to where they should

find Washington in the course of his swift retreat. Gates sent his aid,

Major Wilkinson, forward for instructions, and he, learning that

Washington had withdrawn into Pennsylvania, reported to Lee at

Morristown, as second in command.

[Illustration: OPERATIONS IN NEW YORK AND NEW JERSEY, 1776 AND 1777]

[Sidenote: Fortunately for the Americans, the British capture Charles

Lee, Dec. 13]

Lee had left his army in charge of Sullivan, and had foolishly taken up

his quarters at an unguarded tavern about four miles from the town,

where Wilkinson found him in bed on the morning of the 13th. After

breakfast Lee wrote a confidential letter to Gates, as to a kindred

spirit from whom he might expect to get sympathy. Terrible had been the

consequences of the disaster at Fort Washington. "There never was so

damned a stroke," said the letter. "_Entre nous_, a certain great man is

most damnably deficient. He has thrown me into a situation where I have

my choice of difficulties. If I stay in this province I risk myself and

army, and if I do not stay the province is lost forever.... Our

counsels have been weak to the last degree. As to yourself, if you think

you can be in time to aid the general, I would have you by all means go.

You will at least save your army.... Adieu, my dear friend. God bless

you." Hardly had he signed his name to this scandalous document when

Wilkinson, who was standing at the window, exclaimed that the British

were upon them. Sure enough. A Tory in the neighbourhood, discerning the

golden opportunity, had galloped eighteen miles to the British lines,

and returned with a party of thirty dragoons, who surrounded the house

and captured the vainglorious schemer before he had time to collect his

senses. Bareheaded, and dressed only in a flannel gown and slippers, he

was mounted on Wilkinson's horse, which stood waiting at the door, and

was carried off, amid much mirth and exultation, to the British camp.

Crest-fallen and bewildered, he expressed a craven hope that his life

might be spared, but was playfully reminded that he would very likely be

summarily dealt with as a deserter from the British army; and with this

scant comfort he was fain to content himself for some weeks to come.

[Sidenote: The times that tried men's souls]

The capture of General Lee was reckoned by the people as one more in the

list of dire catastrophes which made the present season the darkest

moment in the whole course of the war. Had they known all that we know

now, they would have seen that the army was well rid of a worthless

mischief-maker, while the history of the war had gained a curiously

picturesque episode. Apart from this incident there was cause enough for

the gloom which now overspread the whole country. Washington had been

forced to seek shelter behind the Delaware with a handful of men, whose

terms of service were soon to expire, and another fortnight might easily

witness the utter dispersal of this poor little army. At Philadelphia,

where Putnam was now in command, there was a general panic, and people

began hiding their valuables and moving their wives and children out

into the country. Congress took fright, and retired to Baltimore. At the

beginning of December, Lord Howe and his brother had issued a

proclamation offering pardon and protection to all citizens who within

sixty days should take the oath of allegiance to the British Crown; and

in the course of ten days nearly three thousand persons, many of them

wealthy and of high standing in society, had availed themselves of this

promise. The British soldiers and the Tories considered the contest

virtually ended. General Howe was compared with Cæsar, who came, and

saw, and conquered. For his brilliant successes he had been made a

Knight Commander of the Bath, and New York was to become the scene of

merry Christmas festivities on the occasion of his receiving the famous

red ribbon. In his confidence that Washington's strength was quite

exhausted, he detached a considerable force from the army in New Jersey,

and sent it, under Lord Percy, to take possession of Newport as a

convenient station for British ships entering the Sound. Donop and Rahl

with their Hessians and Grant with his hardy Scotchmen would now quite

suffice to destroy the remnant of Washington's army; and Cornwallis

accordingly packed his portmanteaus and sent them aboard ship, intending

to sail for England as soon as the fumes of the Christmas punch should

be duly slept off.

[Sidenote: Washington prepares to strike back]

Well might Thomas Paine declare, in the first of the series of pamphlets

entitled "The Crisis," which he now began to publish, that "these are

the times that try men's souls." But in the midst of the general

despondency there were a few brave hearts that had not yet begun to

despair, and the bravest of these was Washington's. At this awful moment

the whole future of America, and of all that America signifies to the

world, rested upon that single Titanic will. Cruel defeat and yet more

cruel treachery, enough to have crushed the strongest, could not crush

Washington. All the lion in him was aroused, and his powerful nature was

aglow with passionate resolve. His keen eye already saw the elements of

weakness in Howe's too careless disposition of his forces on the east

bank of the Delaware, and he had planned for his antagonist such a

Christmas greeting as he little expected. Just at this moment Washington

was opportunely reinforced by Sullivan and Gates, with the troops lately

under Lee's command; and with his little army thus raised to 6,000 men,

he meditated such a stroke as might revive the drooping spirits of his

countrymen, and confound the enemy in the very moment of his fancied

triumph.

[Portrait: GEORGE WASHINGTON (BY TRUMBULL)]

[Sidenote: He crosses the Delaware]

[Sidenote: and pierces the British centre at Trenton, Dec. 26]

Washington's plan was, by a sudden attack, to overwhelm the British

centre at Trenton, and thus force the army to retreat upon New York. The

Delaware was to be crossed in three divisions. The right wing, of 2,000

men, under Gates, was to attack Count Donop at Burlington; Ewing, with

the centre, was to cross directly opposite Trenton; while Washington

himself, with the left wing, was to cross nine miles above, and march

down upon Trenton from the north. On Christmas Day all was ready, but

the beginnings of the enterprise were not auspicious. Gates, who

preferred to go and intrigue in Congress, succeeded in begging off, and

started for Baltimore. Cadwalader, who took his place, tried hard to get

his men and artillery across the river, but was baffled by the huge

masses of floating ice, and reluctantly gave up the attempt. Ewing was

so discouraged that he did not even try to cross, and both officers took

it for granted that Washington must be foiled in like manner. But

Washington was desperately in earnest; and although at sunset, just as

he had reached his crossing-place, he was informed by special messenger

of the failure of Ewing and Cadwalader, he determined to go on and make

the attack with the 2,500 men whom he had with him. The great blocks of

ice, borne swiftly along by the powerful current, made the passage

extremely dangerous, but Glover, with his skilful fishermen of

Marblehead, succeeded in ferrying the little army across without the

loss of a man or a gun. More than ten hours were consumed in the

passage, and then there was a march of nine miles to be made in a

blinding storm of snow and sleet. They pushed rapidly on in two columns,

led by Greene and Sullivan respectively, drove in the enemy's pickets at

the point of the bayonet, and entered the town by different roads soon

after sunrise. Washington's guns were at once planted so as to sweep the

streets, and after Colonel Rahl and seventeen of his men had been slain,

the whole body of Hessians, 1,000 in number, surrendered at discretion.

Of the Americans, two were frozen to death on the march, and two were

killed in the action. By noon of the next day Cadwalader had crossed the

river to Burlington, but no sooner had Donop heard what had happened at

Trenton than he retreated by a circuitous route to Princeton, leaving

behind all his sick and wounded soldiers, and all his heavy arms and

baggage. Washington recrossed into Pennsylvania with his prisoners, but

again advanced, and occupied Trenton on the 29th.

[Sidenote: Cornwallis comes up to retrieve the disaster]

[Sidenote: and thinks he has run down the "old fox"]

When the news of the catastrophe reached New York, the holiday feasting

was rudely disturbed. Instead of embarking for England, Cornwallis rode

post-haste to Princeton, where he found Donop throwing up earthworks. On

the morning of January 2d Cornwallis advanced, with 8,000 men, upon

Trenton, but his march was slow and painful. He was exposed during most

of the day to a galling fire from parties of riflemen hidden in the

woods by the roadside, and Greene, with a force of 600 men and two

field-pieces, contrived so to harass and delay him that he did not reach

Trenton till late in the afternoon. By that time Washington had

withdrawn his whole force beyond the Assunpink, a small river which

flows into the Delaware just south of Trenton, and had guarded the

bridge and the fords by batteries admirably placed. The British made

several attempts to cross, but were repulsed with some slaughter; and as

their day's work had sorely fatigued them, Cornwallis thought best to

wait until to-morrow, while he sent his messenger post-haste back to

Princeton to bring up a force of nearly 2,000 men which he had left

behind there. With this added strength he felt sure that he could force

the passage of the stream above the American position, when by turning

Washington's right flank he could fold him back against the Delaware,

and thus compel him to surrender. Cornwallis accordingly went to bed in

high spirits. "At last we have run down the old fox," said he, "and we

will bag him in the morning."

[Portrait: LORD CORNWALLIS]

[Sidenote: But Washington prepares a checkmate]

[Sidenote: and again severs the British line at Princeton, Jan. 3]

The situation was indeed a very dangerous one; but when the British

general called his antagonist an old fox, he did him no more than

justice. In its union of slyness with audacity, the movement which

Washington now executed strongly reminds one of "Stonewall" Jackson. He

understood perfectly well what Cornwallis intended to do; but he knew

at the same time that detachments of the British army must have been

left behind at Princeton and New Brunswick to guard the stores. From the

size of the army before him he rightly judged that these rear

detachments must be too small to withstand his own force. By

overwhelming one or both of them, he could compel Cornwallis to retreat

upon New York, while he himself might take up an impregnable position on

the heights about Morristown, from which he might threaten the British

line and hold their whole army in check,--a most brilliant and daring

scheme for a commander to entertain while in such a perilous position as

Washington was that night! But the manner in which he began by

extricating himself was not the least brilliant part of the manoeuvre.

All night long the American camp-fires were kept burning brightly, and

small parties were busily engaged in throwing up intrenchments so near

the Assunpink that the British sentinels could plainly hear the murmur

of their voices and the thud of the spade and pickaxe. While this was

going on, the whole American army marched swiftly up the south bank of

the little stream, passed around Cornwallis's left wing to his rear, and

gained the road to Princeton. Toward sunrise, as the British detachment

was coming down the road from Princeton to Trenton, in obedience to

Cornwallis's order, its van, under Colonel Mawhood, met the foremost

column of Americans approaching, under General Mercer. As he caught

sight of the Americans, Mawhood thought that they must be a party of

fugitives, and hastened to intercept them; but he was soon undeceived.

The Americans attacked with vigour, and a sharp fight was sustained,

with varying fortunes, until Mercer was pierced by a bayonet, and his

men began to fall back in some confusion. Just at this critical moment

Washington came galloping upon the field and rallied the troops, and as

the entire forces on both sides had now come up the fight became

general. In a few minutes the British were routed and their line was cut

in two; one half fleeing toward Trenton, the other half toward New

Brunswick. There was little slaughter, as the whole fight did not occupy

more than twenty minutes. The British lost about 200 in killed and

wounded, with 300 prisoners and their cannon; the American loss was less

than 100.

[Portrait: Hugh Mercer]

[Sidenote: General retreat of the British toward New York]

Shortly before sunrise, the men who had been left in the camp on the

Assunpink to feed the fires and make a noise beat a hasty retreat, and

found their way to Princeton by circuitous paths. When Cornwallis got

up, he could hardly believe his eyes. Here was nothing before him but an

empty camp: the American army had vanished, and whither it had gone he

could not imagine. But his perplexity was soon relieved by the booming

of distant cannon on the Princeton road, and the game which the "old

fox" had played him all at once became apparent. Nothing was to be done

but to retreat upon New Brunswick with all possible haste, and save the

stores there. His road led back through Princeton, and from Mawhood's

fugitives he soon heard the story of the morning's disaster. His march

was hindered by various impediments. A thaw had set in, so that the

little streams had swelled into roaring torrents, difficult to ford, and

the American army, which had passed over the road before daybreak, had

not forgotten to destroy the bridges. By the time that Cornwallis and

his men reached Princeton, wet and weary, the Americans had already left

it, but they had not gone on to New Brunswick. Washington had hoped to

seize the stores there, but the distance was eighteen miles, his men

were wretchedly shod and too tired to march rapidly, and it would not be

prudent to risk a general engagement when his main purpose could be

secured without one. For these reasons, Washington turned northward to

the heights of Morristown, while Cornwallis continued his retreat to New

Brunswick. A few days later, Putnam advanced from Philadelphia and

occupied Princeton, thus forming the right wing of the American army, of

which the main body lay at Morristown, while Heath's division on the

Hudson constituted the left wing. Various cantonments were established

along this long line. On the 5th, George Clinton, coming down from

Peekskill, drove the British out of Hackensack and occupied it, while on

the same day a detachment of German mercenaries at Springfield was

routed by a body of militia. Elizabethtown was then taken by General

Maxwell, whereupon the British retired from Newark.

[Sidenote: The tables completely turned]

Thus in a brief campaign of three weeks Washington had rallied the

fragments of a defeated and broken army, fought two successful battles,

taken nearly 2,000 prisoners, and recovered the state of New Jersey. He

had cancelled the disastrous effects of Lee's treachery, and replaced

things apparently in the condition in which the fall of Fort Washington

had left them. Really he had done much more than this, for by assuming

the offensive and winning victories through sheer force of genius, he

had completely turned the tide of popular feeling. The British generals

began to be afraid of him, while on the other hand his army began to

grow by the accession of fresh recruits. In New Jersey, the enemy

retained nothing but New Brunswick, Amboy, and Paulus Hook.

On the 25th of January Washington issued a proclamation declaring that

all persons who had accepted Lord Howe's offer of protection must either

retire within the British lines or come forward and take the oath of

allegiance to the United States. Many narrow-minded people, who did not

look with favour upon a close federation of the states, commented

severely upon the form of this proclamation: it was too national, they

said. But it proved effective. However lukewarm may have been the

interest which many of the Jersey people felt in the war when their soil

was first invaded, the conduct of the British troops had been such that

every one now looked upon them as enemies. They had foraged

indiscriminately upon friend and foe; they had set fire to farmhouses,

and in one or two instances murdered peaceful citizens. The wrath of the

people had waxed so hot that it was not safe for the British to stir

beyond their narrow lines except in considerable force. Their foraging

parties were waylaid and cut off by bands of yeomanry, and so sorely

were they harassed in their advanced position at New Brunswick that they

often suffered from want of food. Many of the German mercenaries, caring

nothing for the cause in which they had been forcibly enlisted, began

deserting; and in this they were encouraged by Congress, which issued a

manifesto in German, making a liberal offer of land to any foreign

soldier who should leave the British service. This little document was

inclosed in the wrappers in which packages of tobacco were sold, and

every now and then some canny smoker accepted the offer.

[Sidenote: Washington's superb generalship]

Washington's position at Morristown was so strong that there was no hope

of dislodging him, and the snow-blocked roads made the difficulties of a

winter campaign so great that Howe thought best to wait for warm weather

before doing anything more. While the British arms were thus held in

check, the friends of America, both in England and on the continent of

Europe, were greatly encouraged. From this moment Washington was

regarded in Europe as a first-rate general. Military critics who were

capable of understanding his movements compared his brilliant

achievements with his slender resources, and discovered in him genius of

a high order. Men began to call him "the American Fabius;" and this

epithet was so pleasing to his fellow-countrymen, in that pedantic age,

that it clung to him for the rest of his life, and was repeated in

newspapers and speeches and pamphlets with wearisome iteration. Yet

there was something more than Fabian in Washington's generalship. For

wariness he has never been surpassed; yet, as Colonel Stedman observed,

in his excellent contemporary history of the war, the most remarkable

thing about Washington was his courage. It would be hard indeed to find

more striking examples of audacity than he exhibited at Trenton and

Princeton. Lord Cornwallis was no mean antagonist, and no one was a

better judge of what a commander might be expected to do with a given

stock of resources. His surprise at the Assunpink was so great that he

never got over it. After the surrender at Yorktown, it is said that his

lordship expressed to Washington his generous admiration for the

wonderful skill which had suddenly hurled an army four hundred miles,

from the Hudson river to the James, with such precision and such deadly

effect. "But after all," he added, "your excellency's achievements in

New Jersey were such that nothing could surpass them." The man who had

turned the tables on him at the Assunpink he could well believe to be

capable of anything.

[Portrait: Beaumarchais]

In England the effect of the campaign was very serious. Not long before,

Edmund Burke had despondingly remarked that an army which was always

obliged to refuse battle could never expel the invaders; but now the

case wore a different aspect. Sir William Howe had not so much to show

for his red ribbon, after all. He had taken New York, and dealt many

heavy blows with his overwhelming force, unexpectedly aided by foul play

on the American side; but as for crushing Washington and ending the war,

he seemed farther from it than ever. It would take another campaign to

do this,--perhaps many. Lord North, who had little heart for the war at

any time, was discouraged, while the king and Lord George Germain were

furious with disappointment. "It was that unhappy affair of Trenton,"

observed the latter, "that blasted our hopes."

[Portrait: Silas Deane]

In France the interest in American affairs grew rapidly. Louis XVI. had

no love for Americans or for rebels, but revenge for the awful disasters

of 1758 and 1759 was dear to the French heart. France felt toward

England then as she feels toward Germany now, and so long ago as the

time of the Stamp Act, Baron Kalb had been sent on a secret mission to

America, to find out how the people regarded the British government. The

policy of the French ministry was aided by the romantic sympathy for

America which was felt in polite society. Never perhaps have the

opinions current among fashionable ladies and gentlemen been so directly

controlled by philosophers and scholars as in France during the latter

half of the eighteenth century. Never perhaps have men of letters

exercised such mighty influence over their contemporaries as Voltaire,

with his noble enthusiasm for humanity, and Rousseau, with his startling

political paradoxes, and the writers of the "Encyclopédie," with their

revelations of new points of view in science and in history. To such men

as these, and to such profound political thinkers as Montesquieu and

Turgot, the preservation of English liberty was the hope of the world;

but they took little interest in the British crown or in the imperial

supremacy of Parliament. All therefore sympathized with the Americans

and urged on the policy which the court for selfish reasons was inclined

to pursue. Vergennes, the astute minister of foreign affairs, had for

some time been waiting for a convenient opportunity to take part in the

struggle, but as yet he had contented himself with furnishing secret

assistance. For more than a year he had been intriguing, through

Beaumarchais, the famous author of "Figaro," with Arthur Lee (a brother

of Richard Henry Lee), who had long served in London as agent for

Virginia. Just before the Declaration of Independence Vergennes sent

over a million dollars to aid the American cause. Soon afterwards

Congress sent Silas Deane to Paris, and presently ordered Arthur Lee to

join him there. In October Franklin was also sent over, and the three

were appointed commissioners for making a treaty of alliance with

France.

[Portrait: Arthur Lee]

The arrival of Franklin was the occasion of great excitement in the

fashionable world of Paris. By thinkers like Diderot and D'Alembert he

was regarded as the embodiment of practical wisdom. To many he seemed to

sum up in himself the excellences of the American cause,--justice, good

sense, and moderation. Voltaire spoke quite unconsciously of the

American army as "Franklin's troops." It was Turgot who said of him, in

a line which is one of the finest modern specimens of epigrammatic

Latin, "Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis." As symbolizing

the liberty for which all France was yearning, he was greeted with a

popular enthusiasm such as perhaps no Frenchman except Voltaire has ever

called forth. As he passed along the streets, the shopkeepers rushed to

their doors to catch a glimpse of him, while curious idlers crowded the

sidewalk. The charm of his majestic and venerable figure seemed

heightened by the republican simplicity of his plain brown coat, over

the shoulders of which his long gray hair fell carelessly, innocent of

queue or powder. His portrait was hung in the shop-windows and painted

in miniature on the covers of snuff-boxes. Gentlemen wore "Franklin"

hats, ladies' kid gloves were dyed of a "Franklin" hue, and _cotelettes

à la Franklin_ were served at fashionable dinners.

[Portrait: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN]

As the first fruits of Franklin's negotiations, the French government

agreed to furnish two million livres a year, in quarterly instalments,

to assist the American cause. Three ships, laden with military stores,

were sent over to America: one was captured by a British cruiser, but

the other two arrived safely. The Americans were allowed to fit out

privateers in French ports, and even to bring in and sell their prizes

there. Besides this a million livres were advanced to the commissioners

on account of a quantity of tobacco which they agreed to send in

exchange. Further than this France was not yet ready to go. The British

ambassador had already begun to protest against the violation of

neutrality involved in the departure of privateers, and France was not

willing to run the risk of open war with England until it should become

clear that the Americans would prove efficient allies. The king,

moreover, sympathized with George III., and hated the philosophers whose

opinions swayed the French people; and in order to accomplish anything

in behalf of the Americans he had to be coaxed or bullied at every step.

But though the French government was not yet ready to send troops to

America, volunteers were not wanting who cast in their lot with us

through a purely disinterested enthusiasm. At a dinner party in Metz,

the Marquis de Lafayette, then a boy of nineteen, heard the news from

America, and instantly resolved to leave his pleasant home and offer his

services to Washington. He fitted up a ship at his own expense, loaded

it with military stores furnished by Beaumarchais, and set sail from

Bordeaux on the 26th of April, taking with him Kalb and eleven other

officers. While Marie Antoinette applauded his generous self-devotion,

the king forbade him to go, but he disregarded the order. His young

wife, whom he deemed it prudent to leave behind, he consoled with the

thought that the future welfare of all mankind was at stake in the

struggle for constitutional liberty which was going on in America, and

that where he saw a chance to be useful it was his duty to go. The able

Polish officers, Pulaski and Kosciuszko, had come some time before.

[Portrait: Lafayette]

During the winter season at Morristown, Washington was busy in

endeavouring to recruit and reorganize the army. Up to this time the

military preparations of Congress had been made upon a ludicrously

inadequate scale. There had been no serious attempt to create a regular

army, but squads of militia had been enlisted for terms of three or six

months, as if there were any likelihood of the war being ended within

such a period. The rumour of Lord Howe's olive-branch policy may at

first have had something to do with this, and even after the

Declaration of Independence had made further temporizing impossible,

there were many who expected Washington to perform miracles and thought

that by some crushing blow the invaders might soon be brought to terms.

But the events of the autumn had shown that the struggle was likely to

prove long and desperate, and there could be no doubt as to the

imperative need of a regular army. To provide such an army was, however,

no easy task. The Continental Congress was little more than an advisory

body of delegates, and it was questionable how far it could exercise

authority except as regarded the specific points which the constituents

of these delegates had in view when they chose them. Congress could only

recommend to the different states to raise their respective quotas of

men, and each state gave heed to such a request according to its ability

or its inclination. All over the country there was then, as always, a

deep-rooted prejudice against standing armies. Even to-day, with our

population of seventy millions, a proposal to increase our regular army

to fifty thousand men, for the more efficient police of the Indian

districts in Arizona and Montana, has been greeted by the press with

tirades about military despotism. A century ago this feeling was

naturally much stronger than it is to-day. The presence of standing

armies in this country had done much toward bringing on the Revolution;

and it was not until it had become evident that we must either endure

the king's regulars or have regulars of our own that the people could be

made to adopt the latter alternative. Under the influence of these

feelings, the state militias were enlisted for very short terms, each

under its local officers, so that they resembled a group of little

allied armies. Such methods were fatal to military discipline. Such

soldiers as had remained in the army ever since it first gathered itself

together on the day of Lexington had now begun to learn something of

military discipline; but it was impossible to maintain it in the face of

the much greater number who kept coming and going at intervals of three

months. With such fluctuations in strength, moreover, it was difficult

to carry out any series of military operations. The Christmas night when

Washington crossed the Delaware was the most critical moment of his

career; for the terms of service of the greater part of his little army

expired on New Year's Day, and but for the success at Trenton, they

would almost certainly have disbanded. But in the exultant mood begotten

of this victory, they were persuaded to remain for some weeks longer,

thus enabling Washington to recover the state of New Jersey. So low had

the public credit sunk, at this season of disaster, that Washington

pledged his private fortune for the payment of these men, in case

Congress should be found wanting; and his example was followed by the

gallant John Stark and other officers. Except for the sums raised by

Robert Morris of Philadelphia, even Washington could not have saved the

country.

[Portrait: Rob Morris.]

Another source of weakness was the intense dislike and jealousy with

which the militia of the different states regarded each other. Their

alliance against the common enemy had hitherto done little more toward

awakening a cordial sympathy between the states than the alliance of

Athenians with Lacedæmonians against the Great King accomplished toward

ensuring peace and good-will throughout the Hellenic world. Politically

the men of Virginia had thus far acted in remarkable harmony with the

men of New England, but socially there was little fellowship between

them. In those days of slow travel the plantations of Virginia were much

more remote from Boston than they now are from London, and the

generalizations which the one people used to make about the other were,

if possible, even more crude than those which Englishmen and Americans

are apt to make about each other at the present day. In the stately

elegance of the Virginian country mansion it seemed right to sneer at

New England merchants and farmers as "shopkeepers" and "peasants," while

many people in Boston regarded Virginian planters as mere Squire

Westerns. Between the eastern and the middle states, too, there was much

ill-will, because of theological differences and boundary disputes. The

Puritan of New Hampshire had not yet made up his quarrel with the

Churchman of New York concerning the ownership of the Green Mountains;

and the wrath of the Pennsylvania Quaker waxed hot against the Puritan

of Connecticut who dared claim jurisdiction over the valley of Wyoming.

We shall find such animosities bearing bitter fruit in personal

squabbles among soldiers and officers, as well as in removals and

appointments of officers for reasons which had nothing to do with their

military competence. Even in the highest ranks of the army and in

Congress these local prejudices played their part and did no end of

mischief.

From the outset Washington had laboured with Congress to take measures

to obviate these alarming difficulties. In the midst of his retreat

through the Jerseys he declared that "short enlistments and a mistaken

dependence upon militia have been the origin of all our misfortunes,"

and at the same time he recommended that a certain number of battalions

should be raised directly by the United States, comprising volunteers

drawn indiscriminately from the several states. These measures were

adopted by Congress, and at the same time Washington was clothed with

almost dictatorial powers. It was decided that the army of state troops

should be increased to 66,000 men, divided into eighty-eight battalions,

of which Massachusetts and Virginia were each to contribute fifteen,

"Pennsylvania twelve, North Carolina nine, Connecticut eight, South

Carolina six, New York and New Jersey four each, New Hampshire and

Maryland three each, Rhode Island two, Delaware and Georgia each one."

The actual enlistments fell very far short of this number of men, and

the proportions assigned by Congress, based upon the population of the

several states, were never heeded. The men now enlisted were to serve

during the war, and were to receive at the end a hundred acres of land

each as bounty. Colonels were to have a bounty of five hundred acres,

and inferior officers were to receive an intermediate quantity. Even

with these offers it was found hard to persuade men to enlist for the

war, so that it was judged best to allow the recruit his choice of

serving for three years and going home empty-handed, or staying till the

war should end in the hope of getting a new farm for one of his

children. All this enlisting was to be done by the several states, which

were also to clothe and arm their recruits, but the money for their

equipments, as well as for the payment and support of the troops, was to

be furnished by Congress. Officers were to be selected by the states,

but formally commissioned by Congress. At the same time Washington was

authorized to raise sixteen battalions of infantry, containing 12,000

men, three regiments of artillery, 3,000 light cavalry, and a corps of

engineers. These forces were to be enlisted under Washington's

direction, in the name of the United States, and were to be taken

indiscriminately from all parts of the country. Their officers were to

be appointed by Washington, who was furthermore empowered to fill all

vacancies and remove any officer below the rank of brigadier-general in

any department of the army. Washington was also authorized to take

whatever private property might anywhere be needed for the army,

allowing a fair compensation to the owners; and he was instructed to

arrest at his own discretion, and hold for trial by the civil courts,

any person who should refuse to take the continental paper money, or

otherwise manifest a want of sympathy with the American cause.

These extraordinary powers, which at the darkest moment of the war were

conferred upon Washington for a period of six months, occasioned much

grumbling, but it does not appear that any specific difficulty ever

arose through the way in which they were exercised. It would be as hard,

perhaps, to find any strictly legal justification for the creation of a

Continental army as it would be to tell just where the central

government of the United States was to be found at that time. Strictly

speaking, no central government had as yet been formed. No articles of

confederation had yet been adopted by the states, and the authority of

the Continental Congress had been in nowise defined. It was generally

felt, however, that the Congress now sitting had been chosen for the

purpose of representing the states in their relations to the British

crown. This Congress had been expressly empowered to declare the states

independent of Great Britain, and to wage war for the purpose of making

good its declaration. And it was accordingly felt that Congress was

tacitly authorized to take such measures as were absolutely needful for

the maintenance of the struggle. The enlistment of a Continental force

was therefore an act done under an implied "war power," something like

the power invoked at a later day to justify the edict by which President

Lincoln emancipated the slaves. The thoroughly English political genius

of the American people teaches them when and how to tolerate such

anomalies, and has more than once enabled them safely to cut the Gordian

knot which mere logic could not untie if it were to fumble till

doomsday. In the second year after Lexington the American commonwealths

had already entered upon the path of their "manifest destiny," and were

becoming united into one political body faster than the people could

distinctly realize.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Jonathan Trumbull, Governor of Connecticut, was a graduate of

Harvard in 1737, in the same class with Hutchinson. Washington

used to call him "Brother Jonathan." He was father of John

Trumbull, the famous painter.

[10] This view is taken from the Hudson river, and shows Fort George

at the extreme right. The street facing upon the river was

Greenwich Street, from which the descent to the water was

abrupt. The cliff-like look of the banks has since been

destroyed by the addition of new land sloping gently down to

the water level at West Street. The church most conspicuous in

the picture is the old Trinity, which was burned in 1776.

[11] This is a contemporary view of the road by which Howe advanced

upon Sullivan's rear.