COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENT—REFORMS IN THE ARMY—SCARCITY IN THE CAMP—THE
ENEMY REVEL IN PHILADELPHIA—ATTEMPT TO SURPRISE LIGHT-HORSE
HARRY—HIS GALLANT DEFENCE—PRAISED BY WASHINGTON—PROMOTED—LETTER FROM
GENERAL LEE—BURGOYNE RETURNS TO ENGLAND—MRS. WASHINGTON AT VALLEY
FORGE—BRYAN FAIRFAX VISITS THE CAMP—ARRIVAL OF THE BARON STEUBEN—HIS
CHARACTER—DISCIPLINES THE ARMY—GREENE MADE QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL.
During the winter’s encampment in Valley Forge, Washington sedulously
applied himself to the formation of a new system for the army. At his
earnest solicitation Congress appointed a committee of five, called the
Committee of Arrangement, to repair to the camp and assist him in the
task.[124] Before their arrival he had collected the written opinions
and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and from these, and his
own observations and experience, had prepared a document exhibiting the
actual state of the army, the defects of previous systems, and the
alterations and reforms that were necessary. The committee remained
three months with him in camp, and then made a report to Congress
founded on his statement. The reforms therein recommended were generally
adopted. On one point, however, there was much debate. Washington had
urged that the pay of the officers was insufficient for their decent
subsistence, especially during the actual depreciation of the currency;
and that many resignations were the consequence. He recommended not only
that their pay should be increased, but that there should be a provision
for their future support, by half pay and a pensionary establishment; so
as to secure them from being absolutely impoverished in the service of
their country.
This last recommendation had to encounter a great jealousy of the army
on the part of Congress, and all that Washington could effect by
strenuous and unremitted exertions, was a kind of compromise, according
to which officers were to receive half pay for seven years after the
war, and non-commissioned officers and privates eighty dollars each.
The reforms adopted were slow in going into operation. In the mean time,
the distresses of the army continued to increase. The surrounding
country for a great distance was exhausted, and had the appearance of
having been pillaged. In some places where the inhabitants had
provisions and cattle they denied it, intending to take them to
Philadelphia, where they could obtain greater prices. The undisturbed
communication with the city had corrupted the minds of the people in its
vicinage. “This State is sick even unto the death,” said Gouverneur
Morris.
The parties sent out to forage too often returned empty-handed. “For
some days past there has been little less than a famine in the camp,”
writes Washington, on one occasion. “A part of the army has been a week
without any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked and
starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience
and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited
by their suffering to a general mutiny and desertion.”
The committee, in their report, declared that the want of straw had cost
the lives of many of the troops. “Unprovided with this, or materials to
raise them from the cold and wet earth, sickness and mortality have
spread through their quarters in an astonishing degree. Nothing can
equal their sufferings, except the patience and fortitude with which the
faithful part of the army endure them.” A British historian cites as a
proof of the great ascendency of Washington over his “raw and
undisciplined troops,” that so many remained with him throughout the
winter, in this wretched situation and still more wretched plight;
almost naked, often on short allowance, with great sickness and
mortality, and a scarcity of medicines, their horses perishing by
hundreds from hunger and the severity of the season.
He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury which reigned at
the same time in the British army in Philadelphia. It is true, the
investment of the city by the Americans rendered provisions dear and
fuel scanty; but the consequent privations were felt by the inhabitants,
not by their invaders. The latter revelled as if in a conquered place.
Private houses were occupied without rendering compensation; the
officers were quartered on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were
of the Society of “Friends;” some even transgressed so far against
propriety as to introduce their mistresses into the quarters thus
oppressively obtained. The quiet habits of the city were outraged by the
dissolute habits of a camp. Gaming prevailed to a shameless degree. A
foreign officer kept a faro bank, at which he made a fortune, and some
of the young officers ruined themselves.
“During the whole of this long winter of riot and dissipation,”
continues the same writer, “Washington was suffered to remain
undisturbed at Valley Forge, with an army not exceeding five thousand
effective men; and his cannon frozen up and immovable. A nocturnal
attack might have forced him to a disadvantageous action or compelled
him to a disastrous retreat, leaving behind him his sick, cannon,
ammunition and heavy baggage. It might have opened the way for supplies
to the city, and shaken off the lethargy of the British army. In a
word,” adds he, “had General Howe led on his troops to action, victory
was in his power and conquest in his train.”[125]
Without assenting to the probability of such a result, it is certain
that the army for a part of the winter, while it held Philadelphia in
siege, was in as perilous a situation as that which kept a bold front
before Boston, without ammunition to serve its cannon.
On one occasion there was a flurry at the most advanced post, where
Captain Henry Lee (Light-horse Harry) with a few of his troops was
stationed. He had made himself formidable to the enemy by harassing
their foraging parties. An attempt was made to surprise him. A party of
about two hundred dragoons, taking a circuitous route in the night, came
upon him by daybreak. He had but a few men with him at the time, and
took post in a large storehouse. His scanty force did not allow a
soldier for each window. The dragoons attempted to force their way into
the house. There was a warm contest. The dragoons were bravely repulsed,
and sheered off, leaving two killed and four wounded. “So well directed
was the opposition,” writes Lee to Washington, “that we drove them from
the stables, and saved every horse. We have got the arms, some cloaks,
&c., of their wounded. The enterprise was certainly daring, though the
issue of it very ignominious. I had not a soldier for each window.”
Washington, whose heart evidently warmed more and more to this young
Virginian officer, the son of his “lowland beauty,” not content with
noticing his exploit in general orders, wrote a note to him on the
subject, expressed with unusual familiarity and warmth. “My dear Lee,”
writes he, “although I have given you my thanks in the general orders of
this day, for the late instance of your gallant behavior, I cannot
resist the inclination I feel to repeat them again in this manner. I
needed no fresh proof of your merit to bear you in remembrance. I waited
only for the proper time and season to show it; those I hope are not far
off. * * * Offer my sincere thanks to the whole of your gallant party,
and assure them, that no one felt pleasure more sensibly, or rejoiced
more sincerely for your and their escape, than your affectionate,” &c.
In effect, Washington not long afterwards strongly recommended Lee for
the command of two troops of horse, with the rank of major, to act as an
independent partisan corps. “His genius,” observes he, “particularly
adapts him to a command of this nature; and it will be the most
agreeable to him of any station in which he could be placed.”
It was a high gratification to Washington when Congress made this
appointment; accompanying it with encomiums on Lee as a brave and
prudent officer, who had rendered essential service to the country, and
acquired distinguished honor to himself and the corps he commanded.
About the time that Washington was gladdened by the gallantry and good
fortune of “Light-horse Harry,” he received a letter from another Lee,
the captive general, still in the hands of the enemy. It had been
written nearly a month previously. “I have the strongest reason to
flatter myself,” writes Lee, “that you will interest yourself in
whatever interests my comfort and welfare. I think it my duty to inform
you that my situation is much bettered. It is now five days that I am on
my parole. I have the full liberty of the city and its limits; have
horses at my command furnished by Sir Henry Clinton and General
Robertson; am lodged with two of the oldest and warmest friends I have
in the world, Colonel Butler and Colonel Disney of the forty-second
regiment. In short, my situation is rendered as easy, comfortable and
pleasant as possible, for a man who is in any sort a prisoner.”
Washington, in reply, expressed his satisfaction at learning that he was
released from confinement, and permitted so many indulgences. “You may
rest assured,” adds he, “that I feel myself very much interested in your
welfare, and that every exertion has been used on my part to effect your
exchange. This I have not been able to accomplish. However, from the
letters which have lately passed between Sir William Howe and myself,
upon the subject of prisoners, I am authorized to expect that you will
return in a few days to your friends on parole, as Major-general
Prescott will be sent in on the same terms for that purpose.”
Difficulties, however, still occurred; and General Lee and Colonel Ethan
Allen were doomed for a few months longer to suffer the annoyance of
hope deferred.
The embarkation of General Burgoyne and his troops from Boston, became
also a subject of difficulty and delay; it being alleged that some
stipulations of the treaty of surrender had not been complied with.
After some correspondence, and discussion, it was resolved in Congress
that the embarkation should be suspended, until a distinct and explicit
ratification of the convention should be properly notified to that body
by the court of Great Britain. Burgoyne subsequently obtained permission
for his own return to England on parole, on account of ill health.
In the month of February, Mrs. Washington rejoined the general at Valley
Forge, and took up her residence at head-quarters. The arrangements
consequent to her arrival bespeak the simplicity of style in this rude
encampment. “The general’s apartment is very small,” writes she to a
friend; “he has had a log cabin built to dine in, which has made our
quarters much more tolerable than they were at first.”
Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the general, and the wives of
other of the officers were also in the camp. The reforms in the
commissariat had begun to operate. Provisions arrived in considerable
quantities; supplies, on their way to the Philadelphia market to load
the British tables, were intercepted and diverted into the hungry camp
of the patriots; magazines were formed in Valley Forge; the threatened
famine was averted; “grim-visaged war” gradually relaxed his features,
and affairs in the encampment began to assume a more cheering aspect.
In the latter part of the winter, Washington was agreeably surprised by
a visit from his old and highly esteemed friend, Bryan Fairfax. That
gentleman, although he disapproved of the measures of the British
government which had severed the colonies from the mother country, was
still firm in allegiance to his king. This had rendered his situation
uncomfortable among his former intimates, who were generally embarked in
the Revolution. He had resolved, therefore, to go to England, and remain
there until the peace. Washington, who knew his integrity and respected
his conscientiousness, received him with the warm cordiality of former
and happier days; for indeed he brought with him recollections always
dear to his heart, of Mount Vernon, and Belvoir, and Virginia life, and
the pleasant banks of the Potomac. As Mr. Fairfax intended to embark at
New York, Washington furnished him with a passport to that city. Being
arrived there, the conscience of Mr. Fairfax prevented him from taking
the oaths prescribed, which he feared might sever him from his wife and
children, and he obtained permission from the British commander to
return to them. On his way home he revisited Washington, and the
kindness he again experienced from him, so different from the harshness
with which others had treated him, drew from him a grateful letter of
acknowledgment after he had arrived in Virginia.
“There are times,” said he, “when favors conferred make a greater
impression than at others, for, though I have received many, I hope I
have not been unmindful of them; yet, that at a time your popularity was
at the highest and mine at the lowest, and when it is so common for
men’s resentments to run high against those who differ from them in
opinion, you should act with your wonted kindness towards me, has
affected me more than any favor I have received; and could not be
believed by some in New York, it being above the run of common
minds.”[126]
Washington, in reply, expressed himself gratified by the sentiments of
his letter, and confident of their sincerity. “The friendship,” added
he, “which I ever professed and felt for you, met with no diminution
from the difference in our political sentiments. I know the rectitude of
my own intentions, and believing in the sincerity of yours, lamented,
though I did not condemn, your renunciation of the creed I had adopted.
Nor do I think any person or power ought to do it, whilst your conduct
is not opposed to the general interest of the people and the measures
they are pursuing; the latter, that is our actions, depending upon
ourselves, may be controlled; while the powers of thinking, originating
in higher causes, cannot always be moulded to our wishes.”
The most important arrival in the camp was that of the Baron Steuben,
towards the latter part of February. He was a seasoned soldier from the
old battle fields of Europe; having served in the seven years’ war, been
aide-de-camp to the great Frederick, and connected with the
quartermaster-general’s department. Honors had been heaped upon him in
Germany. After leaving the Prussian army he had been grand marshal of
the court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, colonel in the circle
of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince Margrave of Baden, and
knight of the Order of Fidelity; and he had declined liberal offers from
the King of Sardinia and the Emperor of Austria. With an income of about
three thousand dollars, chiefly arising from various appointments, he
was living pleasantly in distinguished society at the German courts, and
making occasional visits to Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count de
St. Germain, French Minister of War, and others of the French cabinet,
to come out to America, and engage in the cause they were preparing to
befriend. Their object was to secure for the American armies the
services of an officer of experience and a thorough disciplinarian.
Through their persuasions he resigned his several offices, and came out
at forty-eight years of age, a soldier of fortune, to the rude fighting
grounds of America, to aid a half-disciplined people in their struggle
for liberty. No certainty of remuneration was held out to him, but there
was an opportunity for acquiring military glory; the probability of
adequate reward should the young republic be successful; and it was
hinted that, at all events, the French court would not suffer him to be
a loser. As his means, on resigning his offices, were small,
Beaumarchais furnished funds for his immediate expenses.
The baron had brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane,
our envoys at Paris, and from the Count St. Germain. Landing in
Portsmouth in New Hampshire, Dec. 1st, he had forwarded copies of his
letters to Washington. “The object of my greatest ambition,” writes he,
“is to render your country all the service in my power, and to deserve
the title of a citizen of America by fighting for the cause of your
liberty. If the distinguished ranks in which I have served in Europe
should be an obstacle, I had rather serve under your Excellency as a
volunteer, than to be an object of discontent among such deserving
officers as have already distinguished themselves among you.”
“I would say, moreover,” adds he, “were it not for the fear of offending
your modesty, that your Excellency is the only person under whom, after
having served under the King of Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art
to which I have wholly given myself up.”
By Washington’s direction, the baron had proceeded direct to Congress.
His letters procured him a distinguished reception from the president. A
committee was appointed to confer with him. He offered his services as a
volunteer: making no condition for rank or pay, but trusting, should he
prove himself worthy and the cause be crowned with success, he would be
indemnified for the sacrifices he had made, and receive such further
compensation as he might be thought to merit.
The committee having made their report, the baron’s proffered services
were accepted with a vote of thanks for his disinterestedness, and he
was ordered to join the army at Valley Forge. That army, in its ragged
condition and squalid quarters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict
disciplinarian from Germany, accustomed to the order and appointments of
European camps; and the baron often declared, that under such
circumstances no army in Europe could be kept together for a single
month. The liberal mind of Steuben, however, made every allowance; and
Washington soon found in him a consummate soldier, free from pedantry or
pretension.
The evils arising from a want of uniformity in discipline and manœuvres
throughout the army, had long caused Washington to desire a well
organized inspectorship. He knew that the same desire was felt by
Congress. Conway had been appointed to that office, but had never
entered upon its duties. The baron appeared to be peculiarly well
qualified for such a department; Washington determined, therefore, to
set on foot a temporary institution of the kind. Accordingly he proposed
to the baron to undertake the office of inspector-general. The latter
cheerfully agreed. Two ranks of inspectors were appointed under him; the
lowest to inspect brigades, the highest to superintend several of these.
Among the inspectors was a French gentleman of the name of Ternant,
chosen not only for his intrinsic merit and abilities, but on account of
his being well versed in the English as well as the French language,
which made him a necessary assistant to the baron, who, at times, needed
an interpreter. The gallant Fleury, to whom Congress had given the rank
and pay of lieutenant-colonel, and who had exercised the office of
aide-major in France, was soon after employed likewise as an
inspector.[127]
In a little while the whole army was under drill; for a great part, made
up of raw militia, scarcely knew the manual exercise. Many of the
officers, too, knew little of manœuvring, and the best of them had much
to learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written
instructions relative to their several functions. He took a company of
soldiers under his immediate training, and after he had sufficiently
schooled it, made it a model for the others, exhibiting the manœuvres
they had to practise.
It was a severe task at first for the aide-de-camp of the Great
Frederick to operate upon such raw materials. His ignorance of the
language, too, increased the difficulty, where manœuvres were to be
explained or rectified. He was in despair, until an officer of a New
York regiment, Captain Walker, who spoke French, stepped forward and
offered to act as interpreter. “Had I seen an angel from Heaven,” says
the baron, “I could not have been more rejoiced.” He made Walker his
aide-de-camp, and from that time, had him always at hand.
For a time, there was nothing but drills throughout the camp, then
gradually came evolutions of every kind. The officers were schooled as
well as the men. The troops, says a person who was present in the camp,
were paraded in a single line with shouldered arms; every officer in his
place. The baron passed in front, then took the musket of each soldier
in hand, to see whether it was clean and well polished, and examined
whether the men’s accoutrements were in good order.
He was sadly worried for a time with the militia; especially when any
manœuvre was to be performed. The men blundered in their exercise; the
baron blundered in his English; his French and German were of no avail;
he lost his temper, which was rather warm; swore in all three languages
at once, which made the matter worse, and at length called his aide to
his assistance; to help him curse the blockheads, as it was
pretended—but no doubt to explain the manœuvre.[128]
Still the grand marshal of the court of Hohenzollern mingled with the
veteran soldier of Frederick, and tempered his occasional bursts of
impatience; and he had a kind, generous heart, that soon made him a
favorite with the men. His discipline extended to their comforts. He
inquired into their treatment by the officers. He examined the doctor’s
reports; visited the sick; and saw that they were well lodged and
attended.
He was an example, too, of the regularity and system he exacted. One of
the most alert and indefatigable men in the camp; up at daybreak if not
before, whenever there were to be any important manœuvres, he took his
cup of coffee and smoked his pipe while his servant dressed his hair,
and by sunrise he was in the saddle, equipped at all points, with the
star of his order of knighthood glittering on his breast, and was off to
the parade, alone, if his suite were not ready to attend him.
The strong good sense of the baron was evinced in the manner in which he
adapted his tactics to the nature of the army and the situation of the
country, instead of adhering with bigotry to the systems of Europe. His
instructions were appreciated by all. The officers received them gladly
and conformed to them. The men soon became active and adroit. The army
gradually acquired a proper organization, and began to operate like a
great machine; and Washington found in the baron an intelligent,
disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the badge he wore as a
knight of the Order of _Fidelity_.
Another great satisfaction to Washington, was the appointment by
Congress (March 3d) of Greene to the office of quartermaster-general;
still retaining his rank of major-general in the army. The confusion and
derangement of this department during the late campaign, while filled by
General Mifflin, had been a source of perpetual embarrassment. That
officer, however capable of doing his duty, was hardly ever at hand. The
line and the staff were consequently at variance; and the country was
plundered in a way sufficient to breed a civil war between the staff and
the inhabitants. Washington was often obliged to do the duties of the
office himself, until he declared to the Committee of Congress that “he
would stand quartermaster no longer.”[129] Greene undertook the office
with reluctance, and agreed to perform the military duties of it without
compensation for the space of a year. He found it in great disorder and
confusion, but, by extraordinary exertions and excellent system, so
arranged it, as to put the army in a condition to take the field and
move with rapidity the moment it should be required.[130] The favor in
which Greene stood with the commander-in-chief, was a continual cause of
mean jealousy and cavil among the intriguing and the envious, but it
arose from the abundant proofs Washington had received in times of trial
and difficulty, that he had a brave, affectionate heart, a sound head,
and an efficient arm, on all of which he could thoroughly rely.