CHAPTER XXXVI.

ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET—CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON AND THE COUNT

D’ESTAING—PLANS OF THE COUNT—PERTURBATION AT NEW YORK—EXCITEMENT IN

THE FRENCH FLEET—EXPEDITION AGAINST RHODE ISLAND—OPERATIONS BY SEA

AND LAND—FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION—IRRITATION BETWEEN THE ALLIED

FORCES—CONSIDERATE LETTER OF WASHINGTON TO THE COUNT D’ESTAING.

While encamped at Paramus, Washington, in the night of the 13th of July,

received a letter from Congress informing him of the arrival of a French

fleet on the coast; instructing him to concert measures with the

commander, the Count D’Estaing, for offensive operations by sea and

land, and empowering him to call on the States from New Hampshire to New

Jersey inclusive, to aid with their militia.

The fleet in question was composed of twelve ships of the line and six

frigates, with a land force of four thousand men. On board of it came

Mons. Gerard, minister from France to the United States, and the Hon.

Silas Deane, one of the American ministers who had effected the late

treaty of alliance. The fleet had sailed from Toulon on the 13th of

April. After struggling against adverse winds for eighty-seven or

eighty-eight days, it had made its appearance off the northern extremity

of the Virginia coast, and anchored at the mouth of the Delaware, on the

eighth of July. Thence the count despatched a letter to Washington,

dated at sea. “I have the honor of imparting to your Excellency,” writes

he, “the arrival of the king’s fleet, charged by his majesty with the

glorious task of giving his allies, the United States of America, the

most striking proofs of his affection. Nothing will be wanting to my

happiness, if I can succeed in it. It is augmented by the consideration

of concerting my operations with a General such as your Excellency. The

talents and great actions of General Washington have insured him, in the

eyes of all Europe, the title truly sublime of Deliverer of America,”

&c.

The count was unfortunate in the length of his voyage. Had he arrived in

ordinary time, he might have entrapped Lord Howe’s squadron in the

river; co-operated with Washington in investing the British army by sea

and land, and, by cutting off its retreat to New York, compelled it to

surrender.

Finding the enemy had evacuated both city and river, the count sent up

the French minister and Mr. Deane to Philadelphia in a frigate, and

then, putting to sea, continued along the coast. A little earlier, and

he might have intercepted the squadron of Lord Howe on its way to New

York. It had had but a very few days the advantage of him, and when he

arrived with his fleet in the road outside of Sandy Hook, he descried

the British ships quietly anchored inside of it.

A frank and cordial correspondence took place forthwith between the

count and Washington, and a plan of action was concerted between them by

the intervention of confidential officers; Washington’s aides-de-camp,

Laurens and Hamilton, boarding the fleet while off the Hook, and Major

Chouin, a French officer of merit, repairing to the American

head-quarters.

The first idea of the count was to enter at Sandy Hook, and capture or

destroy the British fleet composed of six ships of the line, four fifty

gun ships, and a number of frigates and smaller vessels; should he

succeed in this, which his greatly superior force rendered probable, he

was to proceed against the city, with the co-operation of the American

forces. To be at hand for such purpose, Washington crossed the Hudson,

with his army, at King’s Ferry, and encamped at White Plains about the

20th of July.

In the mean time New York was once more in a violent perturbation.

“British seamen,” says a writer of the times, “endured the

mortification, for the first time, of seeing a British fleet blocked up

and insulted in their own harbor, and the French flag flying triumphant

without. And this was still more embittered and aggravated, by beholding

every day vessels under English colors captured under their very eyes by

the enemy.”[143] The army responded to their feelings; many royalists of

the city, too, hastened to offer their services as volunteers; there was

in short, a prodigious stir in every department, military and naval.

On the other hand, the French officers and crews were in the highest

state of excitement and exultation. The long low point of Sandy Hook was

all that intervened between them and a splendid triumph, and they

anticipated the glory of “delivering America from the English colors

which they saw waving on the other side of a simple barrier of sand,

upon so great a crowd of masts.”[144]

Several experienced American pilots and masters of vessels, however, who

had accompanied Colonels Laurens and Hamilton on board of the fleet,

declared that there was not sufficient depth of water on the bar to

admit the safe passage of the largest ships one of which carried 80 and

another 90 guns: the attempt therefore, was reluctantly abandoned; and

the ships anchored about four miles off, near Shrewsbury on the Jersey

coast, taking in provisions and water.

The enterprise which the American and French commanders deemed next

worthy of a combined operation, was the recapture of Rhode Island

proper, that it is to say, the island which gives its name to the

State, and which the enemy had made one of their military depôts and

strongholds. In anticipation of such an enterprise, Washington on the

17th of July wrote to General Sullivan, who commanded at Providence,

ordering him to make the necessary preparations for a descent from the

mainland upon the island, and authorizing him to call in

reinforcements of New England militia. He subsequently sent to his aid

the Marquis Lafayette with two brigades (Varnum’s and Glover’s).

Quartermaster-general Greene also was detached for the service, being

a native of the island, well acquainted with its localities, and

having great influence among its inhabitants. Sullivan was instructed

to form his whole force, Continental, State and militia, into two

equal divisions, one to be commanded by Greene, the other by

Lafayette.

On the 22d of July, the French fleet, having finished taking in its

supplies, appeared again in full force off the bar at Sandy Hook. The

British, who supposed they had only been waiting on the Shrewsbury coast

for the high tides of the latter part of July, now prepared for a

desperate conflict; and, indeed, had the French fleet been enabled to

enter, it is difficult to conceive a more terrible and destructive

struggle than would have ensued between these gallant and deadly rivals,

with their powerful armaments brought side to side, and cramped up in so

confined a field of action.

D’Estaing, however, had already determined his course. After a few

demonstrations off the harbor, he stood away to the eastward, and on the

29th arrived off Point Judith, coming to anchor within five miles of

Newport.

Rhode Island (proper), the object of this expedition, is about sixteen

miles long, running deep into the great Narraganset Bay. Seaconnet

Channel separates it on the east from the mainland, and on the west the

main channel passes between it and Conanicut Island. The town of Newport

is situated near the south end of the island, facing the west, with

Conanicut Island in front of it. It was protected by batteries and a

small naval force. Here General Sir Robert Pigott, who commanded in the

island, had his head-quarters. The force under him was about six

thousand strong, variously posted about the island, some in works at the

north end, but the greater part within strongly intrenched lines

extending across the island, about three miles from the town. General

Greene hastened from Providence on hearing of the arrival of the fleet

of Count D’Estaing, and went on board of it at the anchorage to concert

a plan of operations. Some questions of etiquette and precedence rose

between them in settling the mode in which the attack was to be

conducted. It was at length agreed that the fleet should force its way

into the harbor at the same time that the Americans approached by land,

and that the landing of the troops from the ships on the west side of

the island should take place at the same time that the Americans should

cross Seaconnet Channel, and land on the east side near the north end.

This combined operation was to have been carried promptly into effect,

but was postponed until the 10th of August, to give time for the

reinforcements sent by Washington to arrive. The delay was fatal to the

enterprise.

On the 8th, the Count D’Estaing entered the harbor and passed up the

main channel, exchanging a cannonade with the batteries as he passed,

and anchored a little above the town, between Goat and Conanicut

Islands. The English, on his approach, burnt or scuttled three frigates

and some smaller vessels, which would otherwise have been captured.

General Sullivan, to be ready for the concerted attack, had moved down

from Providence to the neighborhood of Howland’s Ferry, on the east side

of Seaconnet passage.

The British troops stationed opposite on the north end of the island,

fearful of being cut off, evacuated their works in the night of the 8th,

and drew into the lines at Newport.

Sullivan, seeing the works thus abandoned, could not resist the

temptation to cross the channel in flat-bottomed boats on the morning of

the 9th, and take possession of them.

This sudden movement, a day in advance of the concerted time, and

without due notice given to the count, surprised and offended him,

clashing with his notions of etiquette and punctilio. He, however,

prepared to co-operate, and was ordering out his boats for the purpose,

when, about two o’clock in the day, his attention was called to a great

fleet of ships standing toward Newport. It was, in fact, the fleet of

Lord Howe. That gallant nobleman had heard of the danger of Newport, and

being reinforced by four stout ships, part of a squadron coming out

under Admiral Byron, had hastened to its relief; though still inferior

in force to the French admiral. The delay of the concerted attack had

enabled him to arrive in time. The wind set directly into the harbor.

Had he entered promptly the French would have been placed between two

fires, from his ships and the batteries, and cramped up in a confined

channel where their largest ships had no room to operate. His lordship,

however, merely stood in near the land, communicated with General

Pigott, and having informed himself exactly of the situation of the

French fleet, came to anchor at Point Judith, some distance from the

south-west entrance of the bay.

In the night the wind changed to the north-east. The count hastened to

avail himself of the error of the British admiral. Favored by the wind,

he stood out of the harbor at eight o’clock in the morning to give the

enemy battle where he should have good sea room; previously sending word

to General Sullivan, who had advanced the preceding afternoon to Quaker

Hill, about ten miles north of Newport, that he would land his promised

troops and marines, and co-operate with him on his return.

The French ships were severely cannonaded as they passed the batteries,

but without material damage. Forming in order of battle, they bore down

upon the fleet of Lord Howe, confidently anticipating a victory from

their superiority of force. The British ships slipt their cables at

their approach, and likewise formed in line of battle, but his lordship

avoided an encounter while the enemy had the weathergage. To gain this

on the one part, and retain it on the other, the two fleets manœuvred

throughout the day, standing to the southward, and gradually

disappearing from the anxious eyes of the belligerent forces on Rhode

Island.

The army of Sullivan, now left to itself before Newport, amounted to ten

thousand men, having received the militia reinforcements. Lafayette

advised the delay of hostile operations until the return of D’Estaing,

but the American commander piqued and chagrined at the departure of his

allies, determined to commence the siege immediately, without waiting

for his tardy aid. On the twelfth, however, came on a tempest of wind

and rain, which raged for two days and nights with unexampled violence.

Tents were blown down; several soldiers and many horses perished, and a

great part of the ammunition recently dealt out to the troops was

destroyed. On the 14th, the weather cleared up and the sun shone

brightly, but the army was worn down and dispirited. Had the British

troops sallied forth at this juncture hale and fresh from comfortable

quarters, it might have fared badly with their weatherbeaten besiegers.

The latter, however, being unmolested, had time to breathe and refit

themselves. The day was passed in drying their clothes, cleaning their

arms, and putting themselves in order for action. By the next morning

they were again on the alert. Expecting the prompt return of the French,

they now took post on Honeyman’s Hill, about two miles from the British

lines, and began to construct batteries, form lines of communication,

and make regular approaches. The British were equally active in

strengthening their defences. There was casual cannonading on each side,

but nothing of consequence. Several days elapsed without the

reappearance of the French. The situation of the besiegers was growing

critical, when, on the evening of the 19th, they descried the expected

fleet standing toward the harbor. All now was exultation in the camp.

Should the French with their ships and troops attack the town by sea and

land on the one side, while the Americans assailed it on the other, the

surrender of the place was inevitable.

These sanguine anticipations, however, were shortlived. The French fleet

was in a shattered and forlorn condition. After sailing from before

Newport, on the 20th, it had manœuvred for two days with the British

fleet, each unwilling to enter into action without having the

weathergage. While thus manœuvring, the same furious storm which had

raged on shore separated and dispersed them with fearful ravage. Some

single encounters of scattered ships subsequently took place, but

without definite result. All were too much tempest-tost and disabled to

make good fight. Lord Howe with such of his ships as he could collect

bore away to New York to refit, and the French admiral was now before

Newport, but in no plight or mood for fighting.

In a letter to General Sullivan, he informed him that pursuant to the

orders of his sovereign and the advice of his officers, he was bound for

Boston, being instructed to repair to that port, should he meet with

misfortune, or a superior British force appear upon the coast.

Dismayed at this intelligence, which threatened ruin and disgrace to the

enterprise, Sullivan wrote a letter of remonstrance to the count, and

General Greene and the Marquis Lafayette repaired with it on board of

the admiral’s ship, to enforce it by their personal exertions. They

represented to the count the certainty of carrying the place in two

days, by a combined attack; and the discouragement and reproach that

would follow a failure on this their first attempt at co-operation; an

attempt, too, for which the Americans had made such great and expensive

preparations, and on which they had indulged such sanguine hopes. These

and other considerations equally urgent had their weight with the count,

and he was inclined to remain and pursue the enterprise, but was

overruled by the principal officers of his fleet. The fact is, that he

was properly a land officer, and they had been indignant at his having a

nautical command over their heads. They were glad, therefore, of any

opportunity to thwart and mortify him; and now insisted on his complying

with his letter of instructions, and sailing for Boston. On Lafayette’s

taking leave, the count assured him that he would only remain in Boston

time enough to give his men repose after their long sufferings, and

refit his ships; and trusted to leave the port again within three weeks

after entering it, “to fight for the glory of the French name and the

interests of America.”[145]

The marquis and General Greene returned at midnight, and made a report

of the ill success of their mission. Sullivan sent another letter on the

following day, urging D’Estaing in any event to leave his land forces.

All the general officers, excepting Lafayette, joined in signing and

sending a protest against the departure of the fleet for Boston, as

derogatory to the honor of France, contrary to the intention of his most

Christian majesty and the interest of his nation, destructive of the

welfare of the United States, and highly injurious to the alliance

formed between the two nations. The fleet was already under way when

Colonel Laurens got on board of the admiral’s ship with the letter and

protest. The count was deeply offended by the tone of the protest, and

the manner in which it was conveyed to him. He declared to Colonel

Laurens that “this paper imposed on the commander of the king’s squadron

the painful, but necessary law of profound silence.” He continued his

course to Boston.

At the sailing of the ships there was a feeling of exasperation

throughout the camp. Sullivan gave vent to his vexation in a general

order on the 24th, wherein he observed: “The general cannot help

lamenting the sudden and unexpected departure of the French fleet, as he

finds it has a tendency to discourage some who placed great dependence

upon the assistance of it; though he can by no means suppose the army,

or any part of it, endangered by this movement. He yet hopes the event

will prove America able to procure that by her own arms which her allies

refuse to assist in obtaining.”

On cooler reflection he thought proper, in subsequent orders, to explain

away the rash and unwarrantable imputation on French loyalty contained

in the foregoing document, but a general feeling of irritation against

the French continued to prevail in the army.

As had been foretold, the departure of the fleet was a death-blow to the

enterprise. Between two and three thousand volunteers abandoned the camp

in the course of four and twenty hours; others continued to go off;

desertions occurred among the militia, and in a few days the number of

besiegers did not exceed that of the besieged.

All thoughts of offensive operations were now at an end. The question

was how best to extricate the army from its perilous position. The

harbors of Rhode Island being now free, and open to the enemy,

reinforcements might pour in from New York, and render the withdrawal of

the troops disastrous, if not impossible. To prepare for rapid retreat,

if necessary, all the heavy artillery that could be spared, was sent off

from the island. On the 28th it was determined, in a council of war, to

fall back to the military works at the north end of the island, and

fortify there, until it should be known whether the French fleet would

soon return to their assistance, the Marquis Lafayette setting off with

all speed to have an interview with the Count D’Estaing, and ascertain

the fact.

General Sullivan broke up his camp, and commenced his retreat that very

night, between nine and ten o’clock; the army retiring by two roads; the

rear covered by parties of light troops, under Colonels Livingston and

Laurens.

Their retreat was not discovered until daylight, when a pursuit was

commenced. The covering parties behaved gallantly making frequent

stands, abandoning one eminence only to take post on another, and

keeping up a retreating fire that checked the advance of the enemy.

After a series of skirmishes they were pressed back to the fortified

grounds on the north end of the island; but Sullivan had already taken

post there, on Batt’s Hill, the main body of his army being drawn up in

order of battle, with strong works in their rear, and a redoubt in front

of the right wing.

The British now took post on an advantageous height called Quaker Hill,

a little more than a mile from the American front, whence they commenced

a cannonade which was briskly returned. Skirmishing ensued until about

ten o’clock, when two British sloops-of-war and some small vessels

having gained a favorable position, the enemy’s troops, under cover of

their fire, advanced in force to turn the right flank of the American

army, and capture the redoubt which protected it. This was bravely

defended by General Greene: a sharp action ensued, which had nearly

become a general one; between two and three hundred men were killed on

each side; the British at length drew back to their artillery and works

on Quaker Hill, and a mutual cannonade was resumed and kept up until

night.

On the following day (29th) the enemy continued his distant firing, but

waited for reinforcements before coming to close quarters. In the mean

time, General Sullivan had received intelligence that Lord Howe had

again put to sea with the design, no doubt, to attempt the relief of

Newport and then followed another report that a fleet with troops was

actually off Block Island, and must arrive almost immediately in the

harbor.

Under these circumstances it was determined to abandon Rhode Island. To

do so with safety, however, required the utmost caution, as the hostile

sentries were within four hundred yards of each other, and any

suspicious movements would be easily discovered and reported to the

British commander. The position on Batt’s Hill favored a deception.

Tents were brought forward and pitched in sight of the enemy, and a

great part of the troops employed throughout the day in throwing up

works, as if the post was to be resolutely maintained; at the same time,

the heavy baggage and stores were quietly conveyed away in the rear of

the hill, and ferried across the bay. As soon as it was dark the tents

were struck, fires were lighted at various points, the troops withdrawn,

and in a few hours the whole were transported across the channel to the

mainland. In the height of the transit, Lafayette arrived. He had ridden

from the island to Boston, a distance of nearly seventy miles, in seven

hours, and had conferred with the French admiral.

D’Estaing had convinced him of the inadequacy of his naval force, but

had made a spirited offer of leading his troops by land to co-operate

with the Americans. Eager to be in time for any engagement that might

take place, Lafayette had spurred back still more speedily than he went,

but was disappointed and mortified at finding all the fighting over. He

arrived in time, however, to bring off the pickets and covering parties,

amounting to a thousand men, which he did in such excellent order, that

not a man was left behind, nor the smallest article lost.

The whole army had crossed by two o’clock in the morning unperceived by

the enemy, and had reason to congratulate themselves on the course they

had taken, and the quickness of their movements; for the very next day

Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Newport in a light squadron, with a

reinforcement of four thousand men, a naval and land force that might

effectually have cut off Sullivan’s retreat, had he lingered on the

island.

Sir Henry, finding he had arrived a day too late, returned to New York,

but first detached Major-general Sir Charles Grey with the troops, on a

ravaging expedition to the eastward; chiefly against ports which were

the haunts of privateers. This was the same general that had surprised

Wayne in the preceding year, and effected such slaughter among his men

with the bayonet. He appears to have been fitted for rough and merciless

warfare. In the course of his present expedition he destroyed more than

seventy vessels in Acushnet River, some of them privateers with their

prizes, others peaceful merchant ships. New Bedford and Fair Haven

having been made military and naval deposits, were laid waste, wharves

demolished, rope-walks, storehouses and mills, with several private

dwellings, wrapped in flames. Similar destruction was effected at the

Island of Martha’s Vineyard, a resort of privateers; where the

inhabitants were disarmed, and a heavy contribution levied upon them in

sheep and cattle. Having thus ravaged the coasts of New England, the

squadron returned laden with inglorious spoil to New York.

Lord Howe, also, who had sailed for Boston in the hope of intercepting

the Count D’Estaing, and had reached there on the 30th of August, found

the French fleet safely sheltered in Nantasket Road, and protected by

American batteries erected on commanding points. He also returned to New

York, and shortly afterward, availing himself of a permission granted

him some time before by government, resigned the command of the fleet to

Admiral Gambier, to hold it until the arrival of Admiral Byron. His

lordship then returned to England, having rendered important services by

his operations along the American coast and on the waters of the

Delaware, and presenting a strong contrast, in his incessant activity,

to the easy indolence and self-indulgence of his brother.

The failure of the combined enterprise against Rhode Island was a cause

of universal chagrin and disappointment, but to none more so than to

Washington, as is evident from the following passage of a letter to his

brother, John Augustine:

“An unfortunate storm, and some measures taken in consequence of it by

the French admiral, blasted in one moment the fairest hopes that ever

were conceived; and, from a moral certainty of success, rendered it a

matter of rejoicing to get our own troops safe off the island. If the

garrison of that place, consisting of nearly six thousand men, had been

captured, as there was, in appearance at least, a hundred to one in

favor of it, it would have given the finishing blow to British

pretensions of sovereignty over this country; and would, I am persuaded,

have hastened the departure of the troops in New York, as fast as their

canvas wings would carry them away.”

But what gave Washington the greatest solicitude, was the effect of this

disappointment upon the public mind. The failure of the enterprise was

generally attributed to the departure of the French fleet from Newport,

and there was at one time such popular exasperation, that it was feared

the means of repairing the French ships at Boston would be withheld.

Count D’Estaing, and the other French officers, on their part, were

irritated by the protests of the American officers, and the expressions

in Sullivan’s general order derogatory to French loyalty. The Count

addressed a letter to Congress, explaining and vindicating his conduct

subsequent to his arrival on the coast.

Washington regarded this mutual irritation which had so suddenly sprung

up between the army and the fleet, with the most poignant anxiety. He

wrote to Sullivan and Greene on the subject, urging them to suppress the

feuds and jealousies which had already arisen, to conceal as much as

possible from the soldiery and public, the misunderstandings which had

occurred between the officers of the two nations; to discountenance all

illiberal or unfriendly observations on the part of the army, and to

cultivate the utmost harmony and good-will.

Congress, also, endeavored to suppress the protest of the officers of

Sullivan’s army which had given so much offence; and, in a public

resolution, expressed their perfect approbation of the conduct of the

count, and their sense of his zeal and attachment.

Nothing perhaps tended more to soothe his wounded sensibilities, than a

letter from Washington, couched in the most delicate and considerate

language. “If the deepest regret, that the best concerted enterprise and

bravest exertions should have been rendered fruitless by a disaster,

which human prudence was incapable of foreseeing or preventing, can

alleviate disappointment, you may be assured that the whole continent

sympathizes with you. It will be a consolation to you to reflect, that

the thinking part of mankind do not form their judgment from events; and

that their equity will ever attach equal glory to those actions which

deserve success, and those which have been crowned with it. It is in the

trying circumstances to which your excellency has been exposed, that the

virtues of a great mind are displayed in their brightest lustre, and

that a general’s character is better known than in the hour of victory.

It was yours, by every title which can give it; and the adverse element,

which robbed you of your prize, can never deprive you of the glory due

to you.”

Life of George Washington, volume 3 of 5 · 第 36 / 40 章