DAVID LENNOX.

Having been called upon by General Cadwalader, to certify, so

far as my knowledge extends, as to the matter hereinafter

mentioned, I do declare, that in the spring of the year 1781,

I went with Major Lennox, of this city, on board of a flag of

truce vessel, then lying in the river Delaware, where she had

arrived from New York, and heard Mr. Robert Lennox, deputy

commissary of prisoners under the British king, say, that in

the year of 1776, a person had arrived at Count Donop's

quarters, near Bordentown, in New Jersey, who told the Count,

that he had been sent to him by Gen. Reed and another person,

whose name I do not think necessary to mention, to procure a

protection for them; that the Count refused to grant them a

protection in that manner, and was about to treat the person

who had applied to him as a spy, but was prevented by the

entreaties of the said Robert Lennox, and some other

gentlemen.

_Philadelphia, 17th March, 1783._ FRANCIS NICHOLS.

Here, then, it fully appears, that the testimony contained in the above

certificates, all point to the same object, and to the same period

mentioned by me, supporting and confirming each other. They likewise

clearly prove the whole progress of your meditated defection; they prove

that you deceived me by those professions, by which I had been induced to

trust to your appearances of fidelity, as you absolutely made an

application for a protection to Count Donop, in which an intimate friend of

yours was included.

But what opinion must the world form of your veracity, when you are

detected in falsely asserting, that you had not mentioned such sentiments

to your most intimate friends and relations. "Is it not utterly

incredible," you say, "that I should hold such communication or sentiments

from my most intimate friends and relations, and make it to a person with

whom I had held no friendship for many years; who had received me with

coldness." Mr. Pettit is your relation, and Col. Bayard your most intimate

friend, with whom, at that time, you had the freest intercourse. To these

you communicated your sentiments, as appears by the certificates of Col.

Bradford, Col. Ellis, and Mr. Davenport; but your friend, hinted at in

Major Lennox's certificate, had consented to accompany you in your intended

desertion. The height of your iniquity does not end here; you endeavoured,

by your influence, to spread general disaffection, in order to lessen your

share of the infamy, by dividing it among many. Had you conferred with men

whose principles were in every instance like your own, you might have

succeeded, as every person concerned might have carried off his particular

friend with him.

If all the evidence which now appears against you, had been produced at

that time, what would have been your fate, as you then, (being

_Adjutant-General_ of the army,) was subject to the Continental articles of

war?

In the 10th page you say, you can "truly declare, that the subject of the

present slander was not known to you, till its appearance in the

newspaper." Having mentioned it at the Coffee House, (as appears by Mr.

Pryor's certifiate[TN],) in the presence of some of your friends, it was

reasonable to expect they would have informed you of it; but it seems there

is some difference between private information and a public charge made in

the papers. As a gentleman, there can, in my opinion, be no difference; as

you say, in your letter of the 9th Sept. last, that this insinuation seems

to deserve some credit from a _reference_ to _me_. You insinuate, that if

you had heard it, you should have noticed it. To this, however, the world

will give little credit, as you made no public or private inquiry

respecting the charge made in Major Lennox's certificate, though he

communicated it to Major Thomas Moore, son of the late President, whose

permission I have for asserting publicly, that he informed you of what

Major Lennox had related, the very day he heard it.

The matters mentioned in Major Lennox's certificate, and in that of Col.

Nichols reach vastly beyond me; here you absolutely apply for protection;

and if one report demanded your notice, in reference to my authorities, why

not another, more alarming to you, your notice in reference to Major

Lennox?

But the consciousness of the communications made to confidential friends,

and others, suggested the fear of other proofs. As long as it was only

communicated by private information, you were willing to submit to private

censure. But when a charge, which originated from me, was made in the

papers, it reduced you to the disagreeable alternative of a tacit

confession, or the hazard of public proof. And in the present instance, if

I am rightly informed, you was perfectly disposed to treat the publication

signed Brutus, with that "silent contempt," which, you say, you have for a

"long time observed, with respect to the anonymous abuse which disgraces

our public papers;" but your friends, feeling the weight of the charge,

goaded you into so unfortunate a measure. _"Unhappy man! against whose

peace and happiness all are combined."_

What answer can you make to the weight of testimony here produced against

you? I see nothing left, but to declare to the world, that the whole is a

wicked combination to destroy you; you may say, "you thought _me_ entitled

to the whole infamy of the insinuation," till the above mentioned witnesses

"consented to divide it with me;" and that, "if you did not sufficiently

measure the malignancy of their dispositions, or thought more favourably of

them than you ought to have done, you are content to acknowledge your

error, and do full justice in this respect hereafter;" and if any person

should ask you, would all these gentlemen hazard such assertions without

foundation? you may answer, "it is difficult to resolve what men of

ungovernable passions will or will not say, when their minds are inflamed

by party, and their breasts burning with disappointed ambition;" may they

not have "mistaken a conversation with some other person, or at this

distance of time, converted some JOCULAR EXPRESSION into such suspicions as

they have mentioned;" and you may add, "the MEMORIES of MEN may fail; their

minds are subject to the warp of prejudice and passion; they may convert

into serious import what was dropped in JEST; and, from false pride,

persist in what they have said, because they have said it, even against the

conviction of their own consciences."

In your letter of the 23d of September last, you say, "you have declared

the insinuations in Oswald's paper of the 7th inst. false; and you apply

the same epithet to my avowal of them." This assertion has been fully

refuted by the concurrent testimony of your _intimate friends_ and others.

In your friends, you thought yourself perfectly secure; but the weakness of

two of them has betrayed you, and the third is proved your accomplice.

It would, indeed, have appeared somewhat extraordinary, if you had not

discovered your intentions to some of your intimate friends and relations;

and that "no circumstance should occur to correspond with this imputation,"

after having communicated the same to me. Nor are proofs wanting, if they

were here necessary, independently of those I have already adduced, with

respect to some of your friends, who at the time held considerable commands

in the militia.

And "though specially sent by General Washington," as you say, "for the

express purpose of assisting me," it may not be here improper to make a

short observation, in which I conceive I shall be perfectly justifiable.

Though the duties of an Adjutant General would naturally confine you to the

Continental army, yet I can easily conceive that there was no difficulty,

by hints thrown out, or by the interposition of a friend, to induce the

commander-in-chief to permit you to come to Bristol, under the _pretence_

of assisting me; being, as _you represent_, well acquainted with the

inhabitants of Burlington, through whom you might obtain information. But

from the evidence which appears against you, it will not be thought

uncharitable to conclude, that you conceived your plan could be better

executed at Bristol, than under the eye of General Washington. Besides, you

might reasonably hope to shake more easily the constancy of untried

officers of militia, than those in the army, whose minds might be supposed

better fortified against such attacks.

I am at a loss for words to express my indignation for the attempt you made

on my integrity; for though I did not see it in that point of view at the

time, yet the whole testimony, as now collected, fully proves such to have

been your intention; and happy I conceive it to be for my own honour and

the safety of my country, that you found in me that strength of mind, which

you might not have experienced in some of your particular friends, had they

been in my situation.

The circumstances relating to the letter you wrote Count Donop, created at

the time no suspicions; nor do I recollect any publication which alludes to

it. This affair, and that mentioned by Major Lenox[TN], are distinct

transactions; but it is not more than probable, that at the interview you

proposed under cover of serving the inhabitants of Burlington, you intended

to confer with Count Donop upon the subject of your own interest and

personal safety? This suspicion, in my opinion, is perfectly warranted by

the indubitable proofs of your intended desertion. Another circumstance

relating to this affair was equally unusual and improper. Mr. Daniel

Ellis,[J] by whom you sent the letter with a flag, was universally known to

be disaffected; having been so long in the service you could not be

ignorant of those obvious reasons, which prove the propriety of sending men

with flags, whose attachment to the cause is well known, and men of

observation.

Every page, almost, of your publication is full of reflections against me,

and almost upon every subject; so intent have you been to injure my

reputation. The errors I committed during my command may serve a double

purpose; because he who committed them is subject to censure, and he who

points them out claims the merit of the discovery. That I committed

errors, I readily admit; my friends have marked some, and subsequent

experience discovered others; but I am conscious they proceed from want of

experience, not a want of integrity. Why, then, need I seek to justify

myself, when, from the nature of the war, considerable commands were, from

necessity, entrusted to young officers, there being few amongst us to whom

the profession was not entirely new. But, I confess, it would give me

infinite pain, if, by "a strange inattention of mine to the tide and state

of the river," and the not arriving "one hour" sooner at Dunk's Ferry, we

had lost the opportunity of striking a blow at Mount Holly, of equal glory

with that at Trenton. When you insinuated, in the former part of your

address, a superior knowledge in military matters, by saying you had more

"experience," I gave up the point, and left you the happiness of thinking

so; for why should I have contended a point with a man who, throughout his

pamphlet, assumes to himself the merit of all those brilliant successes, so

highly commended even by our enemies, and which determined the fate of

American independence. And if I was sensible that the charge you now make

was true, or could be thought so, by competent judges, I would scorn to

defend my error.

My orders were, to make the attack one hour before day, and to effect a

surprise, if possible. The impropriety, therefore, of sending the boats

from Bristol to Dunk's Ferry, and marching the troops from the same place

in open day, is evident, as such a movement must have been observed, and

communicated to the enemy. And now, tell me the instance, where even

continental troops have arrived at the point of attack at the given time?

It was General Washington's intention to have made his attack on Trenton

before day; yet, from unavoidable delays, he did not arrive there till

after eight o'clock in the morning. We reached Dunk's Ferry a little before

low water, and can any person believe, that if we had arrived "one hour

sooner," we could have passed over near twenty-five hundred men, four

pieces of cannon, ammunition wagons and horses, and all the horses

belonging to officers, in that time, in the night too, and the river full

of ice, with only five large batteauxs and two or three scows; when it took

us at least six hours, (a day or two afterwards,) to cross above Bristol,

in open day and the river almost clear of ice. Strange "inattention,"

unhappy commander! That "_a single hour_, which we might have enjoyed with

equal convenience and equal risk," should be the only obstacle to a scene

of equal glory with that of Trenton, and yet you have represented to

General Washington, as appears by his letter,[K] dated six o'clock, P. M.,

25th December, 1776, to me, _being the very same night_, and before we

marched to Dunk's Ferry, that you gave him the most discouraging accounts

of what might be expected from our operations below. What, then, were those

discouraging accounts? Why was I not acquainted with them? or were they

thrown out to influence him from making his attempt on Trenton, by

representing that no co-operation from our quarter could favour his

enterprise? In the general's opinion, it is plain, it had that tendency.

But in the heedless fury of this stroke at me, you have incautiously

unguarded your most tender part.

"Anxious to fill up the part of this glorious plan assigned to us," you

"passed over, you say, with your horse, to see and judge for yourself." You

did so. "Having seen the last man re-embarked, you proceeded before day to

Burlington." Here permit me to correct you, because there is no

circumstance better ascertained, than that many of the men were not brought

back till eight o'clock the next morning.

Your motives for going to Burlington that night, were then thought a

mystery; 'tis now no longer so; and the "_other circumstances_," that

permitted you to join us again at Bristol, are now clearly accounted for.

General Washington's success or defeat was, no doubt, to determine whether

you were to remain a citizen of the United States of America, or to be a

shameful deserter of your country.

You say, you went to Philadelphia, at my request, to confer with Gen.

Putnam; that you set out in the evening, (the 24th December,) and reached

Philadelphia about midnight; but what credit, can you reasonably expect,

will be given to your "detail of proceedings," in other particulars, when

you find yourself detected in such gross contradictions in the following

instance?

In the 17th page you say, "Upon conference with General Putnam, (at

Philadelphia,) he represented the state of the militia, the general

confusion which prevailed, his apprehensions of an insurrection in the city

in his absence, and many other circumstances, in such strong terms, as

convinced me, no assistance could be derived from him;" and yet, in your

letter to me, dated Philadelphia, 25th December, 1776, 11 o'clock, you say;

"General Putnam has determined to cross the river, with as many men as he

can collect, which, he says, will be about five hundred; he is now

mustering them, and endeavouring to get Proctor's company of artillery to

go with them. I wait to know what success he meets with, and the progress

he makes; but, at all events, I shall be with you this afternoon."

Here the representation stated in your pamphlet is contradicted by a letter

in your own handwriting. Having forgot, perhaps, that you had written such

a letter, your ingenuity furnished materials for a plausible narrative,

suitable to your purposes; not suspecting that such proof could be adduced

in opposition to it.

Having returned to Bristol about daylight on the 26th December, with the

greater part of the troops, I received an account, about 11 o'clock, A. M.,

from a person just arrived from Trenton Ferry, that General Washington had

succeeded in his attack. I immediately despatched a messenger with a line

to General Ewing, for information, but all I could learn was, that the

victory was ours.

From the continuance of the rain and wind, I concluded the ice must be

destroyed in the course of the day, and instantly sent down to Dunk's Ferry

for the boats. This being an extraordinary service, required of men who had

been exposed to the storm the whole night, was, however, cheerfully

undertaken and executed. I then consulted Col. Hitchcock, who commanded the

New England brigade, to know whether his troops would willingly accompany

us to New Jersey, as I had determined to cross the river in the morning, if

practicable, to co-operate with General Washington. He informed me, that

his troops could not march, unless they could be supplied with shoes,

stockings and breeches; upon which I instantly wrote to the Council of

Safety, and obtained seven hundred pairs of each of the above articles,

which arrived about sunrise on the morning of the 27th December. This

second attempt being determined on, I went with several officers, in the

afternoon of the 26th, to fix upon a proper place for crossing the river

above Bristol, and the next morning before day viewed the Jersey Shore in a

barge, for the same purpose. By your relation, one would imagine you had

been the _life and soul_ of this second movement across the Delaware,--as

little privy to it as the emperor of Morocco,--but it is no unusual thing

for you to intercept the praise due to others of creditable actions.

Instead of being present to confirm my proposed movements, by your advice,

you remained at Burlington, "in a kind of concealment, till the weather and

OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES permitted you to join us at Bristol," after all our

resolutions were taken, and the most of our arrangements made. In the

tissue of your representations, it is your purpose to insinuate my

deficiency in military conduct in the subsequent transactions. Let my

relation of it be heard!

We marched on the 27th, in the morning, and the ice being by this time

chiefly destroyed, we met with little obstruction in passing. The last

division of the troops being embarked, and then crossing, we received

private information, that General Washington had re-crossed the river, and

returned to Newtown, in Pennsylvania, from whence he dates his letter, 27th

December, 1776, informing me of the particulars of the action at Trenton,

and which was not received, contrary to your assertion, till we had marched

above a mile on our way to Burlington; it was then read to the troops, who

were halted for this purpose. We had, however, before given full credit to

the first information of his having re-crossed; on which previous

information I called together the field officers, to consult what was then

best to be done. From this circumstance, Col. Hitchcock, and some others,

proposed returning to Bristol. I instantly declared my determination

against it, and recommended an attack upon Mount Holly, as from the

information we had of the force at that post, we might easily carry it, and

should then have a retreat open towards Philadelphia, if necessary. You

then, "_as a middle course_," advised our going to Burlington; in which

those who had at first proposed our return, joined in opinion. This was the

true cause of that hesitation you remarked with respect to me. Burlington

was in a position, in my judgment, very dangerous; as in case we should be

invested there, and the river impassable, we should be forced to submit at

discretion, for want of provisions, or hazard an action against troops

superior in discipline, and perhaps in number, if their whole force was

collected to that point. Having no other retreat open to us, but that over

the river, it was evident this could not be effected without the loss, at

least, of those who might be ordered to cover the retreat. Having passed

the river in open day, it was probable the enemy might be informed of it;

and, in that case, the post at Mount Holly reinforced. To determine whether

we should take a position, unanimously approved by the council, but which I

thought extremely dangerous; or adhere to my own plan, unsupported by a

single voice, was certainly a question that required more than a momentary

consideration, even for an officer, at this stage of the war. Being pressed

for some resolution, as the day was far spent, I waived my own opinion, and

acquiesced in the desire of marching to Burlington; but it is ridiculous to

suppose, as you say, that your brother's intelligence of Count Donop's

retreat, could have influenced my acquiescence, for it did not arrive till

after our resolutions were taken,--and besides, was not credited; because

if it had reached us before, and been credited, I should not have

acquiesced in such desire; if even after, I should naturally have taken

another course, and pursued the flying enemy, instead of going to

Burlington, which was five miles in the rear.

Late that night, I received certain information, that the enemy had

evacuated all their posts in the neighborhood, and immediately despatched a

messenger to General Washington with the intelligence; in answer to which,

I received his orders, very early next morning, to pursue and keep up the

panic, and that he would cross at Trenton that day. From this circumstance,

it appears that the General had taken his determination before your

pretended information or advice from Trenton could have reached him.

In justification to myself, I have thought it necessary to point out your

false state of facts, in these particulars; the multitude of lesser ones,

relating to military matters, I shall pass over, as this publication is

already necessarily lengthened beyond my first intention.

As I hinted, in my letter of 10th September last, that "charges of the same

nature had been, some time since, made against you," by Arnold; you say,

you "allow full weight to so respectable a connexion and testimony;" to

which you made no reply, though from the rank and character of Arnold at

that time, they merited your notice. Arnold having received his information

from me, it cannot be concluded, that I meant by his testimony to

strengthen my own assertion; but merely to show, that having before been

charged, you did not reply; from which many believed it true. And when he

apologized to me for inserting it in his defence without my permission, I

remarked, that an apology was unnecessary, from the public manner in which

I had mentioned it.

Arnold was commanding officer in this city, very generally visited by

officers of the army, citizens and strangers. I received the usual

civilities from him, and returned them; and often met him at the tables of

gentlemen in the city. To my civilities, at that time, I thought him

entitled from the signal services he had rendered his country; services

infinitely superior to those you so much boast of; he stood high, as a

military character, even in France, and after your prosecution, he was

continued in command by Congress; appointed first, by the

commander-in-chief, to the command of the left wing of the army, and

afterwards to that important post of West Point, where his treacherous

conduct exceeded, I fancy, even your own idea of his baseness. To what,

then, do your insinuations amount? They cannot criminate me, without an

implied censure on Congress and the commander-in-chief. But why contaminate

my name, by connecting it, in this instance, with such a wretch? when you,

yourself, at his trial, with a half-shamed face, seemed to apologize for

being his prosecutor, and became his fulsome panegyrist. It consisted,

however, with that artifice and cunning which has ever been the sum of your

_abilities_, and the whole amount of your _wisdom_.

Your remarks on my letter of the 10th December, 1777, are so inconsistent,

that I shall bestow a few observations on them. "So strong and virulent,"

you say, "was my antipathy to the constitution, and such my enmity to those

who administered it, that you believe I would have preferred _any_

government to that of Pennsylvania, if my _person_ and _property_ would

have been equally secure;" and yet it seems, in the next sentence you say,

"but it was our lot to meet again, a few days before the battle of

Monmouth; here we were again united in _confidence_ and _danger_." If you

really thought I would prefer _any government_ to that of Pennsylvania, why

did you then take so much pains to show, that we again united in

"_confidence_ and _danger_," at the battle of Monmouth, so many months

after I had discovered that virulent antipathy, and which now hath extorted

such gross reflections?

You say, my breast was burning with disappointed ambition; but how does

this appear, when, immediately upon the formation of the new government, I

was appointed the first of three brigadiers, which created me commanding

officer of the militia. Could my ambition be gratified further? But to

obviate every objection, let me suppose you meant, that I wished to rise to

power in the civil line,--which, however, has never been insinuated

before,--let me here call to your memory, how easy the task was for _any

character_ to rise to the first offices of government. I confess, I do not

think so meanly of myself, as to have dreaded any rivalship from some of

the candidates of those days; nor do I mean, by this declaration, to

insinuate any extraordinary merit, when I estimate mine by that of those I

have alluded to. I could not have consented to make the sacrifices

required; but you, however, and some others, as much opposed to the

essential parts of the constitution as I was, freely made them, and broke

through every obligation of faith and honour.

The charge you have brought against a party in the state, of an opposition

to its constitution, deserves some attention. I will digress a little from

my main subject to examine how far this charge is true, and how far the

thing is in itself criminal.

Government is generally so reverenced among men, that those who attempt to

subvert any system of it whatever, have to contend against a very natural

prejudice. But this prejudice can only be in degree with the antiquity of

its establishment; for modern error, how high soever its authority, has but

little claim to our veneration. This concession made, could it be expected

that our novel constitution, liable at first blush to so many important

objections, should not have its opponents; but that in a moment it should

be submitted to, as implicitly as if it had had the sanction of ages? What

circumstance was there, in the production of this whimsical machine, that

should silence, at once, all the remonstrances of reason and sense against

it? Was it not worth a pause to examine, whether this coat, wove for ages,

would fit us or our posterity before we put on; or whether this gift of our

convention would not prove our destruction? From an apprehension that it

would, an opposition was formed, that included a majority of the state. Did

those who composed it, think it criminal to prevent the singular ideas of a

convention, from being carried into execution, against an almost general

sentiment; or did they not rather conceive it safe and better for the

community still to go on in the administration of governmental affairs by

those temporary expedients we had been in the habits of, until their

constitution could be revised?

This idea, patriotic as it was, was defeated by the obstinate enthusiasm of

some, who trembled for this New Jerusalem of their hopes, and by the

scandalous desertion of others, and especially yourself. The ends of

opposition being thus rendered unattainable, but at the hazard of

convulsions, that might endanger the great American cause, the same virtue

that began it, ended it, and it has long since ceased to act.

This is a well-known state of facts; but what it did not suit with your own

by-purposes to admit, could not be expected from your integrity; you have,

therefore, constantly kept up the alarm of a constitutional opposition,

and, on every occasion, referred to this false cause, that honest and

useful opposition which was created by your weak, though violent and

tyrannical administration.

That you was called to the chair of government, by the unanimous vote of

council and assembly, you have often boasted, with a view of conveying to

the world an idea, that even the gentlemen opposed to the constitution

approved the choice. But they neither esteemed you as a gentleman, nor

approved your public conduct. They knew there was a majority in assembly in

favour of your election, and as their grand object was the obtaining a

resolution of that body, recommending the calling a convention for revising

the constitution, some of the party entered into an engagement for this

purpose, and your election was negotiated. _You_ were to use your

endeavours to prevail on the Council to enforce the recommendation of the

assembly by a similar resolution. From your own acknowledgment at the City

Tavern, the resolution of the Council was never obtained, or even moved

for, by you, and for this flimsy reason, that no formal information, of

such resolution having passed, had been communicated to you; though known

to all the world; and that it could not be expected that Council would

"tag" after the assembly, in a measure relating to the public. Yet you had

the effrontery to assert, that "_every engagement on your part_," was

strictly performed.

At this meeting, you say, you "in the most open manner called upon us, to

support our imputations, and that you so effectually vindicated every part

of your conduct, that every gentleman, (myself excepted,) acknowledged his

mistake." I own I made no concessions, and if the reasons I then gave are

not thought a sufficient justification to the world, of the opinion I had

formed, I am content to admit that it was not only "singular," but

"absurd."

After a reasonable pause, I remarked, that from the repeated conversations

I had had with you, on this subject, you appeared to me as much opposed as

I was, to the constitution, before the evacuation of the city; that you had

refused to accept the appointment of Chief Justice, (because you could not

in conscience take the oath;[L]) that a short time before the election, in

1778, you engaged yourself to the constitutional party, to serve in Council

for the County, and to the party in the opposition, to serve in Assembly

for the City; and being chosen in both instances, you hesitated above six

weeks, (though often pressed to a resolution,) before you determined to

accept your seat in Council;--depriving, during this time, the City of a

vote in Assembly, while an important point was debated concerning the

contested Chester election; and voluntarily advocating the question in

favor of the constitutional party; that on the fate of this trial depended

your hopes of succeeding to the President's chair; that a determination in

favour of that party gave them a decided majority, and that you instantly

accepted your seat in Council.--To which you replied, and in recapitulating

my arguments, endeavoured to justify your conduct; but conscious of having

failed in the capital points, you closed your remarks with some warm

expressions, which conveyed the idea of a threat; of which I desired an

explanation. After working up your passions to a degree little short of

frenzy, you expressed yourself in the following terms: I mean this,--"If

the publications traducing my public and private character are continued, I

mean to apply to the law; but if this will not do me that justice, which in

some instances it cannot do,--I know I have the affections and command of

the fighting men of this state; and if necessary, I will make use of that

influence, and call forth that force,--and if bloodshed should be the

consequence be it on your own heads."

Such violent and unwarrantable expressions from the first magistrate of

the state, and in the presence of the whole bench of justices, created the

highest indignation, and were severely reprobated by several gentlemen

present; which induced you afterwards to endeavour to soften your

expressions and meaning.

But if it was singular or absurd, "to expect a President of the State to

enter into the violence of party on _my_ side of the question," let me

oppose to this, the _treachery_ of your conduct in deserting the party to

which you was at first from ("_conscientious_" principles) attached, and

yet, as President, enter into all the violence of party on the other side

of the question.

Again, "upon our return to Philadelphia," you say, "I became the open and

avowed patron of those who are distinguished by the appellation of tories;

and my decisive attachment to the British Army,[N] and their adherents,

"has marked every subsequent period of my life, too plainly to admit of

doubt or denial." If you really entertained such sentiments, why did you,

in the month of February, (after my marriage,) waiving the indignity

offered to you in not paying the usual compliments of congratulation, upon

your appointment, pay me the first visit, and thereby make advances towards

a reconciliation? Such a condescension, so contrary to the _usual forms_,

can scarcely be reconciled even to a character like yours.

Men who acquire popularity by means disgraceful to a gentleman, dare not

hazard a sentiment that is not approved by the party with which he is

connected. I have, on all occasions, and in all companies, private and

public, delivered freely my political opinions; nor has the dread of losing

the little popularity I possessed in Pennsylvania, ever induced me to make

a sacrifice of my honour, by adopting opinions or measures which I

disapproved, or thought injurious to my country. Esteeming it the highest

honour to deserve the approbation of my fellow-citizens, I have ever been

solicitous to obtain it. You and some others have industriously propagated

reports for the purpose of injuring my reputation; but conscious that my

political opinions and conduct will stand the test, upon the nicest

scrutiny, and having never experienced any diminution of that esteem,

respect and warmth of friendship, which my fellow-citizens have ever shown

towards me, a refutation of such calumny is utterly needless.

From the whole of what I have here laid before the public, supported by the

testimony of the most respectable witnesses, the following conclusions may

fairly be deduced:

1. That the conversation alluded to, which I have asserted to have passed

between us at Bristol, was mentioned by me in confidence to Col. Hamilton

and some others of General Washington's family, in the year 1777; and

therefore could not have originated at the time, you mention, or to gratify

my resentment against you, as at that time, you acknowledge, no parties

subsisted.

2. It could not have been invented to gratify my resentment for the attempt

you made to evade the payment of Mr. Porter's order; because I did not make

it public at the time, nor till several years afterwards, and you

acknowledge, all that coolness was done away, and our former habits of

friendship restored.

[TN] As is appears, by Mr. Clymer's testimony, that I mentioned it publicly

at Mr. Hamilton's trial, which was before you were elected President of the

state, it ought to be imputed to another cause than that which you have

assigned.

4. As it appears, from Mr. Pryor's testimony, that I mentioned it at the

Coffee House, in the hearing of some of your friends, we may reasonably

conclude you were informed of it; and this conclusion is strengthened by

your passing over unnoticed, the information contained in Major Lennox's

testimony, which was related to you by Major Thomas Moore.

5. It cannot appear improbable that you should have held this conversation

with me, as your expressions to Gen. Dickinson, Col. Nixon, and Doctor

Rush, convey sentiments equally injurious to your reputation as a patriot

and Adjutant General of the army.

6. As it fully appears, by the testimony of Col. Ellis and Mr. Davenport,

and that of Col. Bradford, that you had communicated such sentiments to

your brother-in-law, Mr. Pettit, and to Col. Bayard, contrary to your

declaration, we may with propriety assert that you have forfeited that

veracity, which is essential to the character of a gentleman.

Lastly, from the testimony of Major Lennox and Col. Nichols, it appears

that you absolutly[TN] applied to Count Donop for protection, and that a

particular and intimate friend of yours was included in it; and therefore,

from this and the foregoing testimony, all pointing to the same object and

to the same period, supporting and confirming each other, it cannot leave

the least room to doubt the truth of my assertion.

In some instances, a man's general good conduct has had great weight to

invalidate or weaken charges highly criminal; but unfortunately, _yours_

can receive no aid from such circumstances. Dissimulation and cunning have

for a time deceived the most discerning, but the snares you have laid for

others will most probably accomplish your own destruction.

Having long since known how to estimate your character, I have not any

where pretended, in this performance, to fix it at a higher value than what

it generally passes current for; you have, since the term of your

administration, repeatedly put yourself upon your country. Your name has

been offered to the people for a seat in the legislature; to the

legislature, for a seat in Congress; to Congress, for posts of Continental

trust; but that _name_, its counterfeit gilding at length rubbed off, and

the native colour of the contexture exposed, has depreciated, like the

Continental money, with such velocity, that though a few years ago worth a

President's chair, it would not, _now_ purchase a constable's staff; nor is

it more highly rated in the sphere of polite life, than in the great

theatre of the world; for its unfortunate owner stands alone, unnoticed in

the midst of company, with full leisure to reflect on the sensible effects

of the loss of reputation.

My immediate purpose requires nothing further from me; but your

administration, the theme of your own solitary praise, might not improperly

have been touched upon, but that it is a field too extensive for me, and

that I have not asperity enough in my nature to do justice to the subject.

I will yet observe upon some matters in your pamphlet, not in direct

connexion with one or the other subject; but which are extremly[TN]

demonstrative of a temper in the writer to wish evil to the community,

after the power of doing it has ceased.

You, who have ever been a rapacious lawyer, and have never omitted any

means of amassing a fortune, have, with a truly consistent spirit, shown an

implacable enmity to all those who are raised to a condition above want and

dependence. And though you kick against the parallel drawn between you and

the Cataline of antiquity, you have in this point proved its exactness; he

haranguing in the circle of his conspirators, exasperates them against the

opulent citizens of Rome; you, in your pamphlet, labor to create invidious

distinctions, would pervert the order of well regulated society, and make

fortune's larger gifts, or even its moderate blessings, criterions of

disqualification for public trust and honours in Pennsylvania; and under a

spacious description of men, offer with your _sword_ to lead the indigent,

the bankrupt, and the desperate, into all the authority of government. But

in the shallowness of your understanding, you have mistaken the spirit of

the times; it will not countenance or support a Cataline.

You would also, no doubt, as may be inferred from your pamphlet, _you_, who

are so deficient in morality, draw your sword in religious quarrels, to

bring you once more into play; but 'tis to no purpose you would raise an

alarm, as a very great and respectable part of your opponents consist of

persons belonging to that society, of which you profess yourself to be a

member; and there is a general and commendable coolness and indifference

for such quarrels, that will not easily take fire on your false and

inflammatory suggestions; so that whatever you have catched at to raise you

from the earth, has broke in your hands and brought you again to the

ground.

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