Evils of the Continental Currency.—Military Reforms proposed by
Washington.—Congress Jealous of Military Power.—Committee of Three
sent to confer with Washington.—Losses by Depreciation of the
Currency to be made good to the Troops.—Arrival of Lafayette.—Scheme
for a Combined Attack upon New York.—Arnold has Debts and
Difficulties.—His Proposals to the French Minister.—Anxious to
return to the Army.—Mutiny of the Connecticut Troops.—Washington
writes to Reed for Aid from Pennsylvania.—Good Effects of his
Letter.
We have cited the depreciation of the currency as a main cause of the
difficulties and distresses of the army. The troops were paid in paper
money at its nominal value. A memorial of the officers of the Jersey
line to the legislature of their State, represented the depreciation to
be so great, that four months’ pay of a private soldier would not
procure for his family a single bushel of wheat; the pay of a colonel
would not purchase oats for his horse, and a common laborer or express
rider could earn four times the pay in paper of an American officer.
Congress, too, in its exigencies, being destitute of the power of
levying taxes, which vested in the State governments, devolved upon
those governments, in their separate capacities, the business of
supporting the army. This produced a great inequality in the condition
of the troops; according to the means and the degree of liberality of
their respective States. Some States furnished their troops amply, not
only with clothing, but with many comforts and conveniences; others were
more contracted in their supplies; while others left their troops almost
destitute. Some of the States, too, undertook to make good to their
troops the loss in their pay caused by the depreciation of the currency.
As this was not general, it increased the inequality of condition. Those
who fared worse than others were incensed, not only against their own
State, but against the confederacy. They were disgusted with a service
that made such injurious distinctions. Some of the officers resigned,
finding it impossible, under actual circumstances, to maintain an
appearance suitable to their rank. The men had not this resource. They
murmured and showed a tendency to seditious combinations.
These, and other defects in the military system, were pressed by
Washington upon the attention of Congress in a letter to the president:
“It were devoutly to be wished,” observed he, “that a plan could be
devised by which everything relating to the army could be conducted on a
general principle, under the direction of Congress. This alone can give
harmony and consistency to our military establishment, and I am
persuaded it will be infinitely conducive to public economy.”[6]
In consequence of this letter it was proposed in Congress to send a
committee of three of its members to head-quarters to consult with the
commander-in-chief, and, in conjunction with him, to effect such reforms
and changes in the various departments of the army as might be deemed
necessary. Warm debates ensued. It was objected that this would put too
much power into a few hands, and especially into those of the
commander-in-chief; “_that his influence was already too great; that
even his virtues afforded motives for alarm; that the enthusiasm of the
army, joined to the kind of dictatorship already confided to him, put
Congress and the United States at his mercy; that it was not expedient
to expose a man of the highest virtues to such temptations_.”[7]
The foregoing passage from a dispatch of the French minister to his
government, is strongly illustrative of the cautious jealousy still
existing in Congress with regard to military power, even though wielded
by Washington.
After a prolonged debate, a committee of three was chosen by ballot; it
consisted of General Schuyler and Messrs. John Mathews and Nathaniel
Peabody. It was a great satisfaction to Washington to have his old
friend and coadjutor, Schuyler, near him in this capacity, in which, he
declared, no man could be more useful, “from his perfect knowledge of
the resources of the country, the activity of his temper, his
fruitfulness of expedients, and his sound military sense.”[8]
The committee, on arriving at the camp, found the disastrous state of
affairs had not been exaggerated. For five months the army had been
unpaid. Every department was destitute of money or credit; there were
rarely provisions for six days in advance; on some occasions the troops
had been for several successive days without meat; there was no forage;
the medical department had neither tea, chocolate, wine, nor spirituous
liquors of any kind. “Yet the men,” said Washington, “have borne their
distress in general, with a firmness and patience never exceeded, and
every commendation is due to the officers for encouraging them to it by
exhortation and example. They have suffered equally with the men, and,
their relative situations considered, rather more.” Indeed, we have it
from another authority, that many officers for some time lived on bread
and cheese, rather than take any of the scanty allowance of meat from
the men.[9]
To soothe the discontents of the army, and counteract the alarming
effects of the currency, Congress now adopted the measure already
observed by some of the States, and engaged to make good to the
continental and the independent troops the difference in the value of
their pay caused by this depreciation; and that all moneys or other
articles heretofore received by them, should be considered as advanced
on account, and comprehended at their just value in the final
settlement.
At this gloomy crisis came a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette, dated
April 27th, announcing his arrival at Boston. Washington’s eyes, we are
told, were suffused with tears as he read this most welcome epistle, and
the warmth with which he replied to it, showed his affectionate regard
for this young nobleman. “I received your letter,” writes he, “with all
the joy that the sincerest friendship could dictate, and with that
impatience which an ardent desire to see you could not fail to
inspire.... I most sincerely congratulate you on your safe arrival in
America, and shall embrace you with all the warmth of an affectionate
friend when you come to head-quarters, where a bed is prepared for you.”
He would immediately have sent a troop of horse to escort the marquis
through the tory settlements between Morristown and the Hudson, had he
known the route he intended to take; the latter, however, arrived safe
at head-quarters on the 12th of May, where he was welcomed with
acclamations, for he was popular with both officers and soldiers.
Washington folded him in his arms in a truly parental embrace, and they
were soon closeted together to talk over the state of affairs, when
Lafayette made known the result of his visit to France. His generous
efforts at court had been crowned with success, and he brought the
animating intelligence that a French fleet, under the Chevalier de
Ternay, was to put to sea early in April, bringing a body of troops
under the Count de Rochambeau, and might soon be expected on the coast
to coöperate with the American forces; this, however, he was at liberty
to make known only to Washington and Congress.
Remaining but a single day at head-quarters, he hastened on to the seat
of government, where he met the reception which his generous enthusiasm
in the cause of American Independence had so fully merited. Congress, in
a resolution on the 16th of May, pronounced his return to America to
resume his command a fresh proof of the disinterested zeal and
persevering attachment which had secured him the public confidence and
applause, and received with pleasure a “tender of the further services
of so gallant and meritorious an officer.”
Within three days after the departure of the marquis from Morristown,
Washington, in a letter to him, gave his idea of the plan which it would
be proper for the French fleet and army to pursue on their arrival upon
the coast. The reduction of New York he considered the first enterprise
to be attempted by the coöperating forces. The whole effective land
force of the enemy he estimated at about eight thousand regulars and
four thousand refugees, with some militia, on which no great dependence
could be placed. Their naval force consisted of one seventy-four gun
ship, and three or four small frigates. In this situation of affairs the
French fleet might enter the harbor and gain possession of it without
difficulty, cut off its communications, and, with the coöperation of the
American army, oblige the city to capitulate. He advised Lafayette,
therefore, to write to the French commanders, urging them, on their
arrival on the coast, to proceed with their land and naval forces, with
all expedition, to Sandy Hook, and there await further advices; should
they learn, however, that the expedition under Sir Henry Clinton had
returned from the South to New York, they were to proceed to Rhode
Island.
General Arnold was at this time in Philadelphia, and his connection with
subsequent events requires a few words concerning his career, daily
becoming more perplexed. He had again petitioned Congress on the subject
of his accounts. The Board of Treasury had made a report far short of
his wishes. He had appealed, and his appeal, together with all the
documents connected with the case, was referred to a committee of three.
The old doubts and difficulties continued: there was no prospect of a
speedy settlement; he was in extremity. The French minister, M. de
Luzerne, was at hand; a generous-spirited man who had manifested
admiration of his military character. To him Arnold now repaired in his
exigency; made a passionate representation of the hardships of his case;
the inveterate hostility he had experienced from Pennsylvania; the
ingratitude of his country; the disorder brought into his private
affairs by the war, and the necessity he should be driven to of
abandoning his profession, unless he could borrow a sum equal to the
amount of his debts. Such a loan, he intimated, it might be the interest
of the king of France to grant, thereby securing the attachment and
gratitude of an American general of his rank and influence.
The French minister was too much of a diplomatist not to understand the
bearing of the intimation, but he shrank from it, observing that the
service required would degrade both parties.
“When the envoy of a foreign power,” said he, “gives, or if you will,
lends money, it is ordinarily to corrupt those who receive it, and to
make them the creatures of the sovereign whom he serves; or rather, he
corrupts without persuading; he buys and does not secure. But the league
entered into between the king and the United States, is the work of
justice and of the wisest policy. It has for its basis a reciprocal
interest and good-will. In the mission with which I am charged, my true
glory consists in fulfilling it without intrigue or cabal; without
resorting to any secret practices, and by the force alone of the
conditions of the alliance.”
M. de Luzerne endeavored to soften this repulse and reproof, by
complimenting Arnold on the splendor of his past career, and by alluding
to the field of glory still before him; but the pressure of debts was
not to be lightened by compliments, and Arnold retired from the
interview, a mortified and desperate man.
He was in this mood when he heard of the expected arrival of aid from
France, and the talk of an active campaign. It seemed as if his military
ambition was once more aroused. To General Schuyler, who was about to
visit the camp as one of the committee, he wrote on the 25th of May,
expressing a determination to rejoin the army, although his wounds still
made it painful to walk or ride, and intimated, that, in his present
condition, the command at West Point would be best suited to him.
In reply, General Schuyler wrote from Morristown, June 2d, that he had
put Arnold’s letter into Washington’s hands, and added: “He expressed a
desire to do whatever was agreeable to you, dwelt on your abilities,
your merits, your sufferings, and on the well-earned claims you have on
your country, and intimated, that as soon as his arrangements for the
campaign should take place, he would properly consider you.”
In the mean time, the army with which Washington was to coöperate in the
projected attack upon New York, was so reduced by the departure of
troops whose term had expired, and the tardiness in furnishing recruits,
that it did not amount quite to four thousand rank and file, fit for
duty. Among these was a prevalent discontent. Their pay was five months
in arrear; if now paid, it would be in Continental currency, without
allowance for depreciation, consequently, almost worthless for present
purposes.
A long interval of scarcity and several days of actual famine, brought
matters to a crisis. On the 15th of May, in the dusk of the evening, two
regiments of the Connecticut line assembled on their parade by beat of
drum, and declared their intention to march home bag and baggage, “or,
at best, to gain subsistence at the point of the bayonet.” Colonel
Meigs, while endeavoring to suppress the mutiny, was struck by one of
the soldiers. Some officers of the Pennsylvania line came to his
assistance, parading their regiments. Every argument and expostulation
was used with the mutineers. They were reminded of their past good
conduct, of the noble objects for which they were contending, and of the
future indemnifications promised by Congress. Their answer was, that
their sufferings were too great to be allayed by promises, in which they
had little faith; they wanted present relief, and some present
substantial recompense for their services.
It was with difficulty they could be prevailed upon to return to their
huts. Indeed, a few turned out a second time, with their packs, and were
not to be pacified. These were arrested and confined.
This mutiny, Washington declared, had given him infinitely more concern
than anything that had ever happened, especially as he had no means of
paying the troops excepting in Continental money, which, said he, “is
evidently impracticable from the immense quantity it would require to
pay them as much as would make up the depreciation.” His uneasiness was
increased by finding that printed handbills were secretly disseminated
in his camp by the enemy, containing addresses to the soldiery,
persuading them to desert.[10]
In this alarming state of destitution, Washington looked around
anxiously for bread for his famishing troops. New York, Jersey,
Pennsylvania, and Maryland, were what he termed his “flour country.”
Virginia was sufficiently tasked to supply the South. New York, by
legislative coercion, had already given all that she could spare from
the subsistence of her inhabitants. Jersey was exhausted by the long
residence of the army. Maryland had made great exertions, and might
still do something more, and Delaware might contribute handsomely, in
proportion to her extent: but Pennsylvania was now the chief dependence,
for that State was represented to be full of flour. Washington’s letter
of the 16th of December, to President Reed, had obtained temporary
relief from that quarter; he now wrote to him a second time, and still
more earnestly “Every idea you can form of our distresses, will fall
short of the reality. There is such a combination of circumstances to
exhaust the patience of the soldiery, that it begins at length to be
worn out, and we see in every line of the army, features of mutiny and
sedition. All our departments, all our operations, are at a stand, and
unless a system very different from that which has a long time prevailed
be immediately adopted throughout the States, our affairs must soon
become desperate beyond the possibility of recovery.”
Nothing discouraged Washington more than the lethargy that seemed to
deaden the public mind. He speaks of it with a degree of despondency
scarcely ever before exhibited. “I have almost ceased to hope. The
country is in such a state of insensibility and indifference to its
interests that I dare not flatter myself with any change for the
better.” And again, “The present juncture is so interesting, that if it
does not produce correspondent exertions, it will be a proof that
motives of honor, public good, and even self-preservation, have lost
their influence on our minds. This is a decisive moment; one of the
most, I will go further, and say, _the_ most important America has seen.
The court of France has made a glorious effort for our deliverance, and
if we disappoint its intentions by our supineness, we must become
contemptible in the eyes of all mankind, nor can we after that venture
to confide that our allies will persist in an attempt to establish what,
it will appear, we want inclination or ability to assist them in.” With
these and similar observations, he sought to rouse President Reed to
extraordinary exertions. “This is a time,” writes he, “to hazard and to
take a tone of energy and decision. All parties but the disaffected will
acquiesce in the necessity and give it their support.” He urges Reed to
press upon the legislature of Pennsylvania the policy of investing its
executive with plenipotentiary powers. “I should then,” writes he,
“expect everything from your ability and zeal. This is no time for
formality or ceremony. The crisis in every point of view is
extraordinary, and extraordinary expedients are necessary. I am decided
in this opinion.”
His letter procured relief for the army from the legislature, and a
resolve empowering the president and council, during its recess, to
declare martial law, should circumstances render it expedient. “This,”
observes Reed, “gives us a power of doing what may be necessary without
attending to the ordinary course of law, and we shall endeavor to
exercise it with prudence and moderation.”[11]
In like manner, Washington endeavored to rouse the dormant fire of
Congress, and impart to it his own indomitable energy. “Certain I am,”
writes he to a member of that body, “unless Congress speak in a more
decisive tone, unless they are vested with powers by the several States,
competent to the purposes of war, or assume them as matters of right,
and they and the States respectively act with more energy than they have
hitherto done, that our cause is lost. We can no longer drudge on in the
old way. By ill-timing the adoption of measures, by delays in the
execution of them, or by unwarrantable jealousies, we incur enormous
expenses and derive no benefit from them. One State will comply with a
requisition of Congress; another neglects to do it; a third executes it
by halves; and all differ, either in the manner, the matter, or so much
in point of time, that we are always working up-hill; and, while such a
system as the present one, or rather want of one, prevails, we shall
ever be unable to apply our strength or resources to any advantage—I see
one head gradually changing into thirteen, I see one army branching into
thirteen, which, instead of looking up to Congress as the supreme
controlling power of the United States, are considering themselves
dependent on their respective States. In a word, I see the powers of
Congress declining too fast for the consideration and respect which are
due to them as the great representative body of America, and I am
fearful of the consequences.”[12]
At this juncture came official intelligence from the South, to connect
which with the general course of events, requires a brief notice of the
operations of Sir Henry Clinton in that quarter.
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