WINTER CANTONMENTS OF THE AMERICAN ARMY—WASHINGTON AT
MIDDLEBROOK—PLAN OF ALARM SIGNALS FOR THE JERSEYS—LAFAYETTE’S
PROJECT FOR AN INVASION OF CANADA—FAVORED BY CONGRESS—CONDEMNED BY
WASHINGTON—RELINQUISHED—WASHINGTON IN PHILADELPHIA—THE WAR SPIRIT
DECLINING—DISSENSIONS IN CONGRESS—SECTIONAL FEELINGS—PATRIOTIC
APPEALS OF WASHINGTON—PLANS FOR THE NEXT CAMPAIGN—INDIAN
ATROCITIES TO BE REPRESSED—AVENGING EXPEDITION SET ON
FOOT—DISCONTENTS OF THE JERSEY TROOPS—APPEASED BY THE INTERFERENCE
OF WASHINGTON—SUCCESSFUL CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE INDIANS.
About the beginning of December, Washington distributed his troops for
the winter in a line of strong cantonments extending from Long Island
Sound to the Delaware. General Putnam commanded at Danbury, General
McDougall in the Highlands, while the head-quarters of the
commander-in-chief were near Middlebrook in the Jerseys. The objects of
this arrangement were the protection of the country; the security of the
important posts on the Hudson, and the safety, discipline, and easy
subsistence of the army.
In the course of this winter he devised a plan of alarm signals, which
General Philemon Dickinson was employed to carry into effect. On Bottle
Hill, which commanded a vast map of country, sentinels kept watch day
and night. Should there be an irruption of the enemy, an eighteen
pounder, called the Old Sow, fired every half hour, gave the alarm in
the day time or in dark and stormy nights; an immense fire or beacon at
other times. On the booming of that heavy gun, lights sprang up from
hill to hill along the different ranges of heights; the country was
aroused, and the yeomanry, hastily armed, hurried to their gathering
places.
Washington was now doomed to experience great loss in the narrow circle
of those about him, on whose attachment and devotion he could place
implicit reliance. The Marquis Lafayette, seeing no immediate prospect
of active employment in the United States, and anticipating a war on the
continent of Europe, was disposed to return to France to offer his
services to his sovereign; desirous, however, of preserving a relation
with America, he merely solicited from Congress the liberty of going
home for the next winter; engaging himself not to depart until certain
that the campaign was over. Washington backed his application for a
furlough, as an arrangement that would still link him with the service;
expressing his reluctance to part with an officer who united “to all the
military fire of youth an uncommon maturity of judgment.” Congress in
consequence granted the marquis an unlimited leave of absence, to return
to America whenever he should find it convenient.
The marquis, in truth, was full of a grand project for the following
summer’s campaign, which he was anxious to lay before the cabinet of
Versailles; it was to effect the conquest of Canada by the combined
forces, naval and military, of France and the United States. Of course
it embraced a wide scope of operations. One body of American troops was
to be directed against Detroit; another against Niagara; a third was to
seize Oswego, launch a flotilla, and get command of Lake Ontario, and a
fourth to penetrate Canada by the river St. Francis, and secure Montreal
and the posts on Lake Champlain. While the Americans thus invaded Upper
Canada, a French fleet with five thousand men was to ascend the St.
Lawrence, and make an attack on Quebec. The scheme met the approbation
of a great majority in Congress, who ordered it to be communicated to
Dr. Franklin, then minister at Paris, to be laid by him before the
French cabinet. Previous to a final determination, the House prudently
consulted the opinion of the commander-in-chief. Washington opposed the
scheme, both by letter and in a personal interview with Congress, as too
complicated and extensive, and requiring too great resources in men and
money to be undertaken with a prospect of success. He opposed it also on
political grounds. Though it had apparently originated in a proposition
of the Marquis Lafayette, it might have had its birth in the French
cabinet, with a view to some ulterior object. He suggested the danger of
introducing a large body of French troops into Canada, and putting them
in possession of the capital of a province attached to them by all the
ties of blood, habits, manners, religion, and former connection of
government. Let us realize for a moment, said he, the striking
advantages France would derive from the possession of Canada; an
extensive territory, abounding in supplies for the use of her islands; a
vast source of the most beneficial commerce with the Indian nations,
which she might then monopolize; ports of her own on this Continent
independent of the precarious good-will of an ally; the whole trade of
Newfoundland whenever she pleased to engross it, the finest nursery for
seamen in the world; and finally, the facility of awing and controlling
these States, the natural and most formidable rival of every maritime
power in Europe. All these advantages he feared might prove too great a
temptation to be resisted by any power actuated by the common maxims of
national policy; and, with all his confidence in the favorable
sentiments of France, he did not think it politic to subject her
disinterestedness to such a trial. “To waive every other consideration,”
said he, grandly, in the conclusion of a letter to the President of
Congress, “I do not like to add to the number of our national
obligations. I would wish, as much as possible, to avoid giving a
foreign power new claims of merit for services performed to the United
States, and would ask no assistance that is not indispensable.”
The strenuous and far-seeing opposition of Washington was at length
effectual; and the magnificent, but hazardous scheme, was entirely,
though slowly and reluctantly abandoned. It appears since, that the
cabinet of France had really no hand either in originating or promoting
it; but, on the contrary, was opposed to any expedition against Canada;
and the instructions to their minister forbade him to aid in any such
scheme of conquest.
Much of the winter was passed by Washington in Philadelphia, occupied in
devising and discussing plans for the campaign of 1779. It was an
anxious moment with him. Circumstances which inspired others with
confidence, filled him with solicitude. The alliance with France had
produced a baneful feeling of security, which, it appeared to him, was
paralyzing the energies of the country. England, it was thought, would
now be too much occupied in securing her position in Europe, to increase
her force or extend her operations in America. Many, therefore,
considered the war as virtually at an end; and were unwilling to make
the sacrifices, or supply the means necessary for important military
undertakings.
Dissensions, too, and party feuds were breaking out in Congress, owing
to the relaxation of that external pressure of a common and imminent
danger, which had heretofore produced a unity of sentiment and action.
That august body had, in fact, greatly deteriorated since the
commencement of the war. Many of those whose names had been as
watchwords at the Declaration of Independence, had withdrawn from the
national councils; occupied either by their individual affairs, or by
the affairs of their individual States. Washington, whose comprehensive
patriotism embraced the whole Union, deprecated and deplored the dawning
of this sectional spirit. America, he declared, had never stood in more
imminent need of the wise, patriotic, and spirited exertions of her sons
than at this period. The States, separately, were too much engaged in
their local concerns, and had withdrawn too many of their ablest men
from the general council, for the good of the common weal. “Our
political system,” observed he, “is like the mechanism of a clock; it is
useless to keep the smaller wheels in order, if the greater one, the
prime mover of the whole, is neglected.” It was his wish, therefore,
that each State should not only choose, but absolutely compel its ablest
men to attend Congress, instructed to investigate and reform public
abuses.
Nothing can exceed his appeal to the patriotism of his native State,
Virginia, in a letter to Colonel Harrison, the speaker of its House of
Delegates, written on the 30th of December. “Our affairs are in a more
distressed, ruinous, and deplorable condition than they have been since
the commencement of the war. By a faithful laborer, then, in the cause;
by a man who is daily injuring his private estate without the smallest
earthly advantage, not common to all in case of a favorable issue to the
dispute; by one who wishes the prosperity of America most devoutly, but
sees it, or thinks he sees it, on the brink of ruin; you are besought
most earnestly, my dear Colonel Harrison, to exert yourself in
endeavoring to rescue your country, by sending your best and ablest men
to Congress. These characters must not slumber nor sleep at home in such
a time of pressing danger. They must not content themselves with the
enjoyment of places of honor or profit in their own State, while the
common interests of America are mouldering and sinking into
irretrievable ruin. * * * If I were to be called upon to draw a picture
of the times and of men, from what I have seen, heard, and in part know,
I should in one word say, that idleness, dissipation, and extravagance
seem to have laid fast hold of most of them; that speculation,
peculation, and an insatiable thirst for riches, seem to have got the
better of every other consideration, and almost of every order of men;
that party disputes and personal quarrels are the great business of the
day; while the momentous concerns of an empire, a great and accumulating
debt, ruined finances, depreciated money, and want of credit, which in
its consequences is the want of every thing, are but secondary
considerations, and postponed from day to day, from week to week, as if
our affairs wore the most promising aspect. * * * * * In the present
situation of things, I cannot help asking where are Mason, Wythe,
Jefferson, Nicholas, Pendleton, Nelson, and another I could name? And
why, if you are sufficiently impressed with your danger, do you not, as
New York has done in the case of Mr. Jay, send an extra member or two,
for at least a limited time, till the great business of the nation is
put upon a more respectable and happy establishment? * * * I confess to
you I feel more real distress on account of the present appearance of
things, than I have done at any one time since the commencement of the
dispute.”
Nothing seems to have disgusted him more during his visit to
Philadelphia, than the manner in which the concerns of the patriot camp
were forgotten amid the revelry of the capital. “An assembly, a concert,
a dinner, a supper, that will cost three or four hundred pounds, will
not only take men off from acting in this business, but even from
thinking of it; while a great part of the officers of our army, from
absolute necessity, are quitting the service, and the more virtuous few,
rather than do this, are sinking by sure degrees into beggary and want.”
In discussing the policy to be observed in the next campaign, Washington
presumed the enemy would maintain their present posts, and conduct the
war as heretofore; in which case he was for remaining entirely on the
defensive; with the exception of such minor operations as might be
necessary to check the ravages of the Indians. The country, he observed,
was in a languid and exhausted state, and had need of repose. The
interruption to agricultural pursuits, and the many hands abstracted
from husbandry by military service, had produced a scarcity of bread and
forage, and rendered it difficult to subsist large armies. Neither was
it easy to recruit these armies. There was abundance of employment;
wages were high, the value of money was low; consequently there was but
little temptation to enlist. Plans had been adopted to remedy the
deranged state of the currency, but they would be slow in operation.
Great economy must in the mean time be observed in the public
expenditure.
The participation of France in the war, also, and the prospect that
Spain would soon be embroiled with England, must certainly divide the
attention of the enemy, and allow America a breathing time; these and
similar considerations were urged by Washington in favor of a defensive
policy. One single exception was made by him. The horrible ravages and
massacres perpetrated by the Indians and their tory allies at Wyoming,
had been followed by similar atrocities at Cherry Valley, in the State
of New York, and called for signal vengeance to prevent a repetition.
Washington knew by experience that Indian warfare, to be effective,
should never be merely defensive, but must be carried into the enemy’s
country. The Six Nations, the most civilized of the savage tribes, had
proved themselves the most formidable. His idea was to make war upon
them in their own style; penetrate their country, lay waste their
villages and settlements, and at the same time destroy the British post
at Niagara, that nestling-place of tories and refugees.
The policy thus recommended was adopted by Congress. An expedition was
set on foot to carry that part relative to the Indians into execution:
but here a circumstance occurred, which Washington declared gave him
more pain than any thing that had happened in the war. A Jersey brigade
being ordered to march, the officers of the first regiment hesitated to
obey. By the depreciation of paper money, their pay was incompetent to
their support; it was, in fact, merely nominal; the consequence was, as
they alleged, that they were loaded with debt, and their families at
home were starving; yet the Legislature of their State turned a deaf ear
to their complaints. Thus aggrieved, they addressed a remonstrance to
the Legislature on the subject of their pay, intimating that, should it
not receive the immediate attention of that body, they might, at the
expiration of three days, be considered as having resigned, and other
officers might be appointed in their place.
Here was one of the many dilemmas which called for the judgment,
moderation, and great personal weight and influence of Washington. He
was eminently the soldier’s friend, but he was no less thoroughly the
patriot general. He knew and felt the privations and distresses of the
army, and the truth of the grievances complained of; but he saw, also,
the evil consequences that might result from such a course as that which
the officers had adopted. Acting, therefore, as a mediator, he
corroborated the statements of the complainants on the one hand, urging
on government the necessity of a more general and adequate provision for
the officers of the army, and the danger of subjecting them to too
severe and continued privations. On the other hand, he represented to
the officers the difficulties with which government itself had to
contend from a deranged currency and exhausted resources; and the
unavoidable delays that consequently impeded its moneyed operations. He
called upon them, therefore, for a further exertion of that patience and
perseverance which had hitherto done them the highest honor at home and
abroad, had inspired him with unlimited confidence in their virtue, and
consoled him amidst every perplexity and reverse of fortune to which the
national affairs had been exposed. “Now that we have made so great a
progress to the attainment of the end we have in view,” observed he,
“any thing like a change of conduct would imply a very unhappy change of
principle, and a forgetfulness, as well of what we owe to ourselves, as
to our country. Did I suppose it possible this could be the case even in
a single regiment of the army, I should be mortified and chagrined
beyond expression. I should feel it as a wound given to my own honor,
which I consider as embarked with that of the army at large.
“But the gentlemen,” adds he, “cannot be in earnest; they cannot
seriously intend any thing that would be a stain on their former
reputation. They have only reasoned wrong about the means of obtaining a
good end; and on consideration, I hope and flatter myself, they will
renounce what must appear to be improper. At the opening of a campaign,
when under marching orders for an important service, their own honor,
duty to the public and to themselves, and a regard to military
propriety, will not suffer them to persist in a measure which would be a
violation of them all. It will even wound their delicacy, coolly to
reflect that they have hazarded a step which has an air of dictating to
their country, by taking advantage of the necessity of the moment; for
the declaration they have made to the State, at so critical a time, that
unless they obtain relief in the short period of three days, they must
be considered out of the service, has very much that aspect.”
These and other observations of similar purport, were contained in a
letter to General Maxwell, their commander, to be laid before the
officers. It produced a respectful reply, but one which intimated no
disposition to swerve from their determination. After reiterating their
grievances, “we are sorry,” added they, “that you should imagine we
meant to disobey orders. It was and is still our determination to march
with our regiment, and to do the duty of officers until the Legislature
shall have a reasonable time to appoint others, but no longer. We beg
leave to assure your Excellency, that we have the highest sense of your
ability and virtues; that executing your orders has ever given us
pleasure; that we love the service, and love our country;—but when that
country gets so lost to virtue and justice, as to forget to support its
servants, it then becomes their duty to retire from its service.”
A commander of less magnanimity than Washington, would have answered
this letter by a stern exercise of military rule, and driven the really
aggrieved parties to extremity. He nobly contented himself with the
following comment on it, forming a paragraph of a letter to General
Maxwell. “I am sorry the gentlemen persist in the principles which
dictated the step they have taken; as, the more the affair unfolds
itself, the more reason I see to disapprove it. But in the present view
they have of the matter, and with their present feelings, it is not
probable any new argument that could be offered would have more
influence than the former. While, therefore, the gentlemen continue in
the execution of their duty, as they declare themselves heartily
disposed to do, I shall only regret that they have taken a step of which
they must hereafter see the impropriety.”
The Legislature of New Jersey imitated the forbearance of Washington.
Compounding with their pride, they let the officers know that on their
withdrawing the memorial, the subject matter of it would be promptly
attended to. It was withdrawn. Resolutions were immediately passed,
granting pecuniary supplies to both officers and soldiers. The money was
forthwith forwarded to camp, and the brigade marched.
Such was the paternal spirit exercised by Washington, in all the
difficulties and discontents of the army. How clearly he understood the
genius and circumstances of the people he was called upon to manage; and
how truly was he their protector even more than their commander!
We shall briefly dispose of the Indian campaign. The first act was an
expedition from Fort Schuyler by Colonel Van Schaick, Lieutenant-colonel
Willett, and Major Cochran, with about six hundred men, who, on the 19th
of April, surprised the towns of the Onondagas; destroyed the whole
settlement, and returned to the fort without the loss of a single man.
The great expedition of the campaign, however, was in revenge of the
massacre of Wyoming. Early in the summer, three thousand men assembled
in that lately desolated region, and, conducted by General Sullivan,
moved up the west branch of the Susquehanna into the Seneca country.
While on the way, they were joined by a part of the western army, under
General James Clinton, who had come from the valley of the Mohawk by
Otsego lake and the east branch of the Susquehanna. The united forces
amounted to about five thousand men, of which Sullivan had the general
command.
The Indians, and their allies the tories, had received information of
the intended invasion, and appeared in arms to oppose it. They were much
inferior in force, however, being about fifteen hundred Indians and two
hundred white men, commanded by the two Butlers, Johnson, and Brant. A
battle took place at Newtown on the 29th of August, in which they were
easily defeated. Sullivan then pushed forward into the heart of the
Indian country, penetrating as far as the Genesee River, laying every
thing waste, setting fire to deserted dwellings, destroying cornfields,
orchards, gardens, every thing that could give sustenance to man, the
design being to starve the Indians out of the country. The latter
retreated before him with their families, and at length took refuge
under the protection of the British garrison at Niagara. Having
completed his errand, Sullivan returned to Easton in Pennsylvania. The
thanks of Congress were voted to him and his army, but he shortly
afterward resigned his commission on account of ill health, and retired
from the service.
A similar expedition was undertaken by Colonel Brodhead, from Pittsburg
up the Allegany, against the Mingo, Muncey, and Seneca tribes, with
similar results. The wisdom of Washington’s policy of carrying the war
against the Indians into their country, and conducting it in their own
way, was apparent from the general intimidation produced among the
tribes by these expeditions, and the subsequent infrequency of their
murderous incursions; the instigation of which by the British, had been
the most inhuman feature of this war.