British. Washington and Greene appear to have been the only two American
generals of marked ability, though they unquestionably derived great
advantage from the talents of their foreign allies, Lafayette, Pulaski,
Steuben, Rochambeau--and Washington was more than once out-manoeuvred.
Gates evidently owed his one signal triumph to enormous superiority of
numbers on his own ground, and was as signally defeated, under
circumstances infinitely less creditable to him than those of Burgoyne's
surrender. Lee's vaunted abilities came to nothing.
Political incapacity was of course charged upon ministers as another
cause of disaster; and no doubt their miscalculation of the severity of
the struggle was almost childish. When Parliament met in the autumn of
1776--_i.e._, after the Declaration of Independence had gone forth to
the world--it was held out in the King's speech that another campaign
would be sufficient to end the war, while in spite of all the warnings
of the Opposition, they persisted in blinding themselves to the force of
the temptations which must inevitably bring down France, if not Spain,
into the lists against them, until the treaties of these powers with
America were actually concluded. The forces sent out were miserably
inadequate for a war on so large a scale--"too many to make peace, too
few to make war," as Lord Chatham told the Ministry. When for once a
really considerable force was sent out under Burgoyne, it failed for
want of timely cooperation by Howe, and this failure is stated, by Lord
Shelburne, to have arisen from Lord George Germain's not having had
patience to wait after signing the despatch to Burgoyne, till that to
Howe had been fair-copied; so that instead of going out together, the
second, owing to further mischances, did not leave till some time later.
The English generals complained almost as bitterly as the American of
the want of adequate reenforcements, and the best of them, Sir Henry
Clinton, is found writing (1779) in a strain which might be mistaken for
Washington's of his spirits being "worn out" by the difficulties of his
position.
But no mistakes in the management of the war by British statesmen can
account for their ultimate failure. However great British mismanagement
may have been, it was far surpassed by American. Until Robert Morris
took the finances in hand, the administration of them was beneath not
only contempt but conception. There was nothing on the British side
equal to that caricature of a recruiting system, in which different
bounties were offered by Congress, by the States, by the separate towns,
as to make it the interest of the intending soldier to delay enlistment
as long as possible in order to sell himself to the highest bidder; to
that caricature of a war establishment the main bulk of which broke up
every twelvemonth in front of the enemy, which was only paid, if at all,
in worthless paper, and left almost habitually without supplies.
To mention one fact only, commissions in British regiments on American
soil continued to be sold for large sums, while Washington's officers
were daily throwing up theirs, many from sheer starvation. On the whole,
no better idea can be had of the nature of the struggle on the American
side, after the first heat of it had cooled down, than from the words of
Count de Rochambeau, writing to Count de Vergennes, July 10, 1780: "They
have neither money nor credit; their means of resistance are only
momentary, and called forth when they are attacked in their own homes.
They then assemble for the moment of immediate danger and defend
themselves."
A far more important cause in determining the ultimate failure of the
British was the aid afforded by France to America, followed by that of
Spain and Holland. It was impossible for England to reconquer a
continent, and carry on war at the same time with the three most
powerful states of Europe. The instincts of race have tended on both the
English and the American sides to depreciate the value of the aid given
by France to the colonists. It may be true that Rochambeau's troops
which disembarked in Rhode Island in July, 1780, did not march till
July, 1781,--that they were blockaded soon after their arrival,
threatened with attack from New York, and only disengaged by a feint of
Washington's on that city. But more than two years before their arrival,
Washington wrote to a member of Congress, "France, by her supplies, has
saved us from the yoke thus far." The treaty with France alone was
considered to afford a "certain prospect of success"--to "secure"
American independence.
The arrival of D'Estaing's fleet, although no troops joined the American
army, and nothing eventually was done, determined the evacuation of
Philadelphia. The discipline of the French troops when they landed in
1780 set an example to the Americans; chickens and pigs walked between
the lines without being disturbed. The recruits of 1780 could not have
been armed without fifty tons of ammunition supplied by the French. In
September of that year, Washington, writing to the French envoy, speaks
of the "inability" of the Americans to expel the British from the South
"unassisted, or perhaps even to stop their career," and he writes in
similar terms to Congress a few days later. To depend "upon the
resources of the country, unassisted by foreign loans," he writes to a
member of Congress two months later, "will, I am confident, be to lean
upon a broken reed."
In January, 1781, writing to Colonel Laurens, the American envoy in
Paris, he presses for "an immediate, ample, and efficacious succor in
money" from France, for the maintenance of the American coasts of "a
constant naval superiority," and for "an additional succor in troops."
And since the assistance so requested was in fact granted in every
shape, and the surrender of Yorktown was obtained by the cooperation
both of the French army and fleet, we must hold that Washington's words
were justified by the event.
The real cause, however, why England yielded in 1782-1783 to her
revolted colonies was probably this: The English nation at large had
never realized the nature of the struggle; when it did, it refused to
carry it on. Enormous ignorance no doubt prevailed at the beginning of
the struggle as to the North American colonies. They had been till then
entirely overshadowed by the West Indies, which were perhaps at that
time the greatest source of English commercial wealth; and the time was
not far past when, it is said, they were supposed, like the latter, to
be chiefly inhabited by negroes. The prominence of the slave colonies
seems to have associated the idea of colonies with that of absolute
government. Englishmen did not generally realize the existence in North
America of vast countries inhabited by communities of their own race,
which enjoyed in general a larger measure of self-government than the
mother-country herself. That a colony should resist the mother-country
seemed in a manner preposterous. It appears certain, therefore, that
when the war at first broke out it was popular, and that the King and
Lord North, as has been already stated, were themselves amazed at the
loyal addresses which it called forth.
But the early resort to the aid of German mercenaries showed that this
popularity was only skin-deep--that the heart of the masses was not
engaged in the war. The very employment of these mercenaries, as well as
of the Indian auxiliaries of the royal forces, tended to lower the
character of the war in English eyes. When Chatham, in his scathing
invectives, would speak of the Ministers' "traffic and barter with every
little pitiful German prince that sells and sends his subjects to the
shambles," or of their sending "the infidel savage--against whom?
against your Protestant brethren, to lay waste their country, to
desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name," he might
not carry with him the votes of the House of Lords, but his words would
burn their way into English hearts.
That the war with the American colonies themselves was repugnant to the
deepest feelings of the nation is proved by contrast through the sudden
burst of warlike spirit which followed (1778-1779) on the outbreak of
war with France and Spain. A few days before the French treaty with
America was known, Horace Walpole had written to Mason that the new
levies "don't come, consequently they will not go." By July of the same
year he writes to Sir Horace Mann, "The country is covered with camps."
In 1776 the King had reviewed the Guards on Wimbledon Common, and pulled
off his hat to them before their departure for America. He had now
(1779) to review volunteers. The passionate interest which is henceforth
taken in so much of the struggle as is carried on with foreign foes,
Keppel's scarcely deserved popularity, the riotous popular joy on his
acquittal, the outburst of universal rejoicing over Rodney's victories,
show a totally different temper to that brought out by either victory or
defeat in what was now felt to be a dread civil war with our American
kinsmen.
Hence it was, no doubt, that after the surrender of Yorktown,
hostilities were practically at an end with America, while the naval
warfare with France and Spain was carried on for another twelvemonth,
and that the signing of provisional articles of peace with the United
States preceded by two months that of similar articles with France and
Spain, the armistice with Holland being of still later date. It may even
be conjectured that the outbreak of war with France and Spain, instead
of incensing the mind of the English people against the Americans,
rather gave different objects to their angry passions, and tended to
diminish their bitterness toward the colonists. It must have been a kind
of relief to Englishmen to find themselves fighting once more against
those whom they considered hereditary enemies, against men who did not
speak their own mother-tongue; and the wholly unprovoked character of
these foreign hostilities would soften men's feelings toward the
stubbornness of those colonists of their own blood, who after all asked
only to be left alone. It is moreover observable that when peace came,
though it upset the Shelburne ministry, yet that of the coalition which
succeeded it was most unpopular, and addresses came pouring in from
counties and towns to thank the King for making the peace.
Substantially indeed--although colonial independence would no doubt have
been achieved sooner or later--the more we look into the events of the
war of 1775-1783, the more, perhaps, shall we be convinced that it
resolves itself into a duel between two men who never saw each other in
the flesh, Washington and George III.
Take Washington out of the history on the American side, and it is
impossible to conceive of American success. It is barely possible that
under Greene--the one general after Washington's own heart, who wrote to
him from his command in the South, "We fight, get beaten, and fight
again"--the army itself might have been commanded with an ability which
would enable it to withstand its British opponents. But neither Greene
nor any other general possessed that weight of personal character which
fixed the trust of Congress and people on Washington, maintained him in
authority through all reverses, and enabled him to criticise with such
unflinching frankness the measures of Congress.
Take, on the other hand, George III out of the history on the British
side, and it is beyond question that if the war had ever broken out, it
would have been put a stop to long before its ultimate failure. In him
alone is to be found the real centre of resistance to American
independence. It is now well known that at least from the beginning of
1778, if not from the end of 1775, Lord North was anxious to resign, and
desirous of conciliation, and that it was only through the King's
constant appeals to his sense of honor, not to "desert" him, that the
minister was prevailed upon to remain in office. "Till I see things
change to a more favorable position," the King wrote to Lord North as
late as May 19, 1780, "I shall not feel at liberty to grant your
resignation"; and it was only on March 20, 1781, that Lord North at
last compelled his master to accept it. Three ideas were fixed in the
King's mind, the first of which was a delusion, the second a mistake,
and the third contrary to all principles of constitutional government.
First, he had persuaded himself that the country was radically opposed
to American independence. In January, 1778, he opposes conciliatory
measures, "lest they should dissatisfy this country, which so cheerfully
and handsomely carries on the contest." In the autumn of that year he is
certain that "if ministers show that they never will consent to the
independence of America, the cry will be strong in their favor." Two
years later he "can never suppose this country so far lost to all ideas
of self-importance as to be willing to grant American independence."
Secondly, he was convinced--and this conviction, it must be admitted,
was shared by some of the strongest opponents of the war--that if the
independence of the North American colonies were acknowledged, all the
others, as well as Ireland, would be lost. If any one branch of the
empire is allowed to throw off its dependency, the others will
inevitably follow the example. "Should America succeed, the West Indies
must follow, not in independence, but dependence on America. Ireland
would soon follow, and this island reduce itself to a poor island
indeed."
Thirdly, he would not allow the Opposition to rule. "He would run any
personal risk rather than submit to the Opposition; rather than be
shackled by these desperate men he would lose his crown." If he
authorizes the attempt at a coalition (1779), it is "provided it be
understood that every means are to be employed to keep the empire
entire, to prosecute the present just and unprovoked war in all its
branches with the utmost vigor, and that his majesty's past measures be
treated with proper respect," _i.e._, provided the Opposition are ready
to stultify themselves, and do all that the King thinks right, and admit
that all for which they have contended is wrong. Before the spectacle of
such narrow obstinacy it is difficult not to sympathize with an
expression of Fox in one of his letters--"it is intolerable to think
that it should be in the power of one blockhead to do so much mischief."
Between these two men--it may be conceded, equally sincere, equally
resolute--but the one reasoning, like the madman that he was to be, from
false premises, self-deluded as to the feelings of his people,
anticipating consequences which a century sees yet unrealized and the
other with eyes at all times almost morbidly open to all the gloomier
features of this cause, void of all self-delusion--the one conceiving
himself justified in imposing dictates of his own self-will on every
minister whom he might employ, entitled alike to chain an unwilling
friend to office, and to shut the door of office to opponents except on
terms of surrendering all their principles; the other always ready to
accept the inevitable, to make the most use of the least means, to curb
himself for the sake of his cause in all things except fearless
plain-speaking--the one, finally resolved only to hinder the making of a
nation; the other resolved to make one, if anyhow possible--the issue of
the contest could not be doubtful, if both lives were prolonged. From
that contest the one emerged as the mad king who threw away half a
continent from England; the other as the father of the American nation.
The common consent of mankind has ranked Washington among its great men;
and although the title may have been fully justified by the course of
his civil life, whether in or out of office, after the termination of
the War of Independence, it is hardly to be doubted that it would freely
have been accorded to him had his career been cut short immediately
after the resignation of his military command. Yet of those who have
enjoyed the title, few, if any, have ever earned it by actions of less
brilliancy. The fame of no conspicuous victory is bound up with
Washington's name. His one dashing exploit was the surprise of Trenton.
His one victory, that of Monmouth, had no results; his most considerable
battle, that of Brandywine, was a severe defeat. His greatness as a
general consisted in doing much with little means, never missing an
opportunity, rising superior to every disaster. When he had recovered
Boston he could say, "I have been here months together with not thirty
rounds of musket cartridges to a man, and have been obliged to submit to
all insults of the enemy's cannon for want of powder, keeping what
little we had for pistol-distance. We have maintained our ground against
the enemy under this want of powder, and we have disbanded one army and
recruited another, within musket-shot of two-and-twenty regiments, the
flower of the British Army, while our force has been but little if any
superior to theirs, and at last have beaten them into a shameful and
precipitate retreat out of a place the strongest by nature on this
continent, and strengthened and fortified at an enormous expense."
The character of Washington as a commander recalls in various respects
that of Wellington. In both we see the same dogged perseverance under
all the various phases of fortune; the same strict discipline, hardening
readily into sternness, coupled with the same careful consideration for
the wants and welfare of the soldier; the same patient, constant
attention to every detail of military organization; the same ability in
maintaining a defensive warfare against an enemy superior in force, with
the same quickness to strike a blow in any unguarded quarter; the same
unflinching frankness in exposing the evils of the military
administration of the day. Many of Wellington's despatches from the
Peninsula might almost have been written by Washington. The difference
between them, while the war lasts, is mainly this: that in Wellington
the soldier is all, while in Washington the statesman and the patriot
are never merged in the soldier. Hence, while in after-life Wellington
had to serve his apprenticeship as a statesman after ceasing to be a
soldier, and often bungled over his new craft, Washington's after-life
was simply that of a statesman who had been called to take up arms and
had laid them down again.
In short, though England had never a more successful foe than
Washington, it is impossible not to feel, in studying his character,
that no more typical Englishman ever lived.
Let us now cast a final glance at the state of the world at the close of
the war. Except that an independent state had grown up for the first
time since the downfall of Aztec and Inca empires on the American
continent, and that England had been politically lessened, the balance
of power had been little affected by the war. France had one West Indian
island more, Holland one Indian settlement less. Spain had recovered
Minorca and the Floridas. But she was irrevocably shut out from one
great object of her ambition, the eastern half of the Mississippi
Basin.
SETTLEMENT OF AMERICAN LOYALISTS IN CANADA[30]
A.D. 1783
SIR JOHN G. BOURINOT
In the American Revolutionary War there were many in the
then new-born Republic who either refrained from
participating or took the loyalist side in the conflict.
These were called "United Empire Loyalists," for they clung
to the unity of the empire and refused to ally themselves
with their fellow-colonists in revolt. When the war was
over, those who took up arms on the loyal side found
themselves in a hopeless minority, loaded with obloquy, and
subjected to indignity at the hands of the victorious
republicans. Rather than live under these humiliating
conditions, some of the Loyalists returned to England; but
most of them, preferring voluntary expatriation in Western
wilds to living in a country that had become independent
through rebellion, sought new homes for themselves in Acadia
and Canada.
Their act was not lost upon the home Government, for the
latter sent instructions to Canada to make provision for
their reception and settlement, and for the mitigation, in
some measure, of their trials and privations. This provision
consisted of seed, farm implements, tools for building
purposes, and food and clothing for a year or two after
settling in the country. To make good in part their losses
the British Government also voted about three millions
sterling to be divided among the incoming settlers, and gave
them munificent grants of land, chiefly in the western
portion of the country, the then virgin Province of Upper
Canada. There, as well as in desirable locations in Nova
Scotia and New Brunswick, streamed in the Loyalists and
their families, to begin their sad experience of exile in
the wilderness. By their coming, Western Canada--chiefly on
the banks of the St. Lawrence, on the Bay of Quinte, in the
Niagara district, and round the shores of Lake
Ontario--received that contribution of brawn and muscle so
essential to the carving out of a new province and the
founding of a strong and enduring community.
It was during Governor Haldimand's administration that one of the most
important events in the history of Canada occurred as a result of the
American War of Independence. This event was the coming to the Provinces
of many thousand people, known as United Empire Loyalists, who, during
the progress of the war, but chiefly at its close, left their old homes
in the thirteen colonies. When the Treaty of 1783 was under
consideration, the British representatives made an effort to obtain some
practical consideration from the new nation for the claims of this
unfortunate people who had been subject to so much loss and obloquy
during the war. All that the English envoys could obtain was the
insertion of a clause in the treaty to the effect that Congress would
recommend to the legislatures of the several States measures of
restitution--a provision which turned out, as Franklin intimated at the
time, a perfect nullity. The English Government subsequently indemnified
these people in a measure for their self-sacrifice, and among other
things gave a large number of them valuable tracts of land in the
Provinces of British North America. Many of them settled in Nova Scotia,
others founded New Brunswick and Upper Canada, now Ontario. Their
influence on the political fortunes of Canada has been necessarily very
considerable. For years they and their children were animated by a
feeling of bitter animosity against the United States, the effects of
which could be traced in later times when questions of difference arose
between England and her former colonies. They have proved with the
French Canadians a barrier to the growth of any annexation party, and as
powerful an influence in national and social life as the Puritan element
itself in the Eastern and Western States.
Among the sad stories of the past the one which tells of the exile of
the Loyalists from their homes, of their trials and struggles in the
valley of the St. Lawrence, then a wilderness, demands our deepest
sympathy. In the history of this continent it can be only compared with
the melancholy chapter which relates the removal of the French
population from their beloved Acadia. During the Revolution they
comprised a very large, intelligent, and important body of people, in
all the old colonies, especially in New York and at the South, where
they were in the majority until the peace. They were generally known as
Tories, while their opponents, who supported independence, were called
Whigs. Neighbor was arrayed against neighbor, families were divided, the
greatest cruelties were inflicted, as the war went on, upon men and
women who believed it was their duty to be faithful to king and
country.