THE ENEMY CROSS THE HUDSON—RETREAT OF THE GARRISON FROM FORT LEE—THE
CROSSING OF THE HACKENSACK—LEE ORDERED TO MOVE TO THE WEST SIDE OF THE
RIVER—REED’S LETTER TO HIM—SECOND MOVE OF THE ARMY BEYOND THE
PASSAIC—ASSISTANCE SOUGHT FROM VARIOUS QUARTERS—CORRESPONDENCES AND
SCHEMES OF LEE—HEATH STANCH TO HIS INSTRUCTIONS—ANXIETY OF GEORGE
CLINTON FOR THE SAFETY OF THE HUDSON—CRITICAL SITUATION OF THE
ARMY—DISPARAGING CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LEE AND REED—WASHINGTON RETREATS
ACROSS THE RARITAN—ARRIVES AT TRENTON—REMOVES HIS BAGGAGE ACROSS THE
DELAWARE—DISMAY AND DESPONDENCY OF THE COUNTRY—PROCLAMATION OF LORD
HOWE—EXULTATION OF THE ENEMY—WASHINGTON’S RESOLVE IN CASE OF EXTREMITY.
With the capture of Fort Washington, the project of obstructing the
navigation of the Hudson, at that point, was at an end. Fort Lee,
consequently, became useless, and Washington ordered all the ammunition
and stores to be removed, preparatory to its abandonment. This was
effected with the whole of the ammunition, and a part of the stores, and
every exertion was making to hurry off the remainder, when, early in the
morning of the 20th, intelligence was brought that the enemy, with two
hundred boats, had crossed the river and landed a few miles above.
General Greene immediately ordered the garrison under arms, sent out
troops to hold the enemy in check, and sent off an express to
Washington, at Hackensack.
The enemy had crossed the Hudson, on a very rainy night, in two
divisions, one diagonally upward from King’s Bridge, landing on the west
side, about eight o’clock; the other marched up the east bank, three or
four miles, and then crossed to the opposite shore. The whole corps, six
thousand strong, and under the command of Lord Cornwallis, were landed,
with their cannon, by ten o’clock, at a place called Closter Dock, five
or six miles above Fort Lee, and under that line of lofty and
perpendicular cliffs known as the Palisades. “The seamen,” says Sir
William Howe, “distinguished themselves remarkably on this occasion, by
their readiness to drag the cannon up a very narrow road, for nearly
half a mile to the top of a precipice, which bounds the shore for some
miles on the west side.”[136]
Washington arrived at the fort in three quarters of an hour. Being told
that the enemy were extending themselves across the country, he at once
saw that they intended to form a line from the Hudson to the Hackensack,
and hem the whole garrison in between the two rivers. Nothing would save
it but a prompt retreat to secure the bridge over the Hackensack. No
time was to be lost. The troops sent out to check the enemy were
recalled. The retreat commenced in all haste. There was a want of horses
and waggons; a great quantity of baggage, stores and provisions,
therefore, was abandoned. So was all the artillery excepting two
twelve-pounders. Even the tents were left standing, and camp-kettles on
the fire. With all their speed they did not reach the Hackensack River
before the vanguard of the enemy was close upon them. Expecting a brush,
the greater part hurried over the bridge, others crossed at the ferry,
and some higher up. The enemy, however, did not dispute the passage of
the river; but Cornwallis stated in his despatches, that, had not the
Americans been apprised of his approach, he would have surrounded them
at the fort. Some of his troops that night occupied the tents they had
abandoned.
From Hackensack, Colonel Grayson, one of Washington’s aides-de-camp,
wrote instantly, by his orders, to General Lee; informing him that the
enemy had crossed into the Jerseys, and, as was reported, _in great
numbers_. “His Excellency,” adds Grayson, “thinks it would be advisable
in you to remove the troops under your command on this side of the North
River, and there wait for further commands.”
Washington himself wrote to Lee on the following day (Nov. 21st). “I am
of opinion,” said he, “and the gentlemen about me concur in it, that the
public interest requires your coming over to this side of the Hudson
with the Continental troops. * * * * The enemy is evidently changing the
seat of war to this side of the North River, and the inhabitants of this
country will expect the Continental army to give them what support they
can; and failing in that, they will cease to depend upon, or support a
force from which no protection is to be derived. It is, therefore, of
the utmost importance, that at least an appearance of force should be
made, to keep this province in connection with the others.”
In this moment of hurry and agitation, Colonel Reed, also, Washington’s
_fidus Achates_, wrote to Lee, but in a tone and spirit that may
surprise the reader, knowing the devotion he had hitherto manifested for
the commander-in-chief. After expressing the common wish that Lee should
be at the principal scene of action, he adds: “I do not mean to flatter
or praise you, at the expense of any other; but I do think it is
entirely owing to you, that this army, and the liberties of America, so
far as they are dependent on it, are not entirely cut off. You have
decision, a quality often wanting in minds otherwise valuable, and I
ascribe to this our escape from York Island, King’s Bridge, and the
Plains; and I have no doubt, had you been here, the garrison of Mount
Washington would now have composed a part of this army; and from all
these circumstances, I confess, I do ardently wish to see you removed
from a place where there will be so little call for your judgment and
experience, to the place where they are likely to be so necessary. Nor
am I singular in my opinion; every gentleman of the family, the officers
and soldiers generally, have a confidence in you. The enemy constantly
inquire where you are, and seem to be less confident when you are
present.”
Then alluding to the late affair at Fort Washington, he continues:
“General Washington’s own judgment, seconded by representations from us,
would, I believe, have saved the men, and their arms; but, unluckily,
General Greene’s judgment was contrary. This kept the general’s mind in
a state of suspense, till the stroke was struck. Oh, general! An
indecisive mind is one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall an
army; how often have I lamented it this campaign. All circumstances
considered, we are in a very awful and alarming situation; one that
requires the utmost wisdom, and firmness of mind. As soon as the season
will admit, I think yourself and some others, should go to Congress, and
form the plan of the new army. * * * * I must conclude, with my clear
and explicit opinion, that your presence is of the last
importance.”[137]
Well might Washington apprehend that his character and conduct, in the
perplexities in which he was placed, would be liable to be misunderstood
by the public, when the friend of his bosom could so misjudge him.
Reed had evidently been dazzled by the daring spirit and unscrupulous
policy of Lee, who, in carrying out his measures, heeded but little the
counsels of others, or even the orders of government; Washington’s
respect for both, and the caution with which he hesitated in adopting
measures in opposition to them, was stamped by the bold soldier and his
admirers as indecision.
At Hackensack the army did not exceed three thousand men, and they were
dispirited by ill success, and the loss of tents and baggage. They were
without intrenching tools, in a flat country, where there were no
natural fastnesses. Washington resolved, therefore, to avoid any attack
from the enemy, though, by so doing, he must leave a fine and fertile
region open to their ravages; or a plentiful storehouse, from which they
would draw voluntary supplies. A second move was necessary, again to
avoid the danger of being enclosed between two rivers. Leaving three
regiments, therefore, to guard the passes of the Hackensack, and serve
as covering parties, he again decamped, and threw himself on the west
bank of the Passaic, in the neighborhood of Newark.
His army, small as it was, would soon be less. The term of enlistment of
those under General Mercer, from the flying camp, was nearly expired;
and it was not probable that, disheartened as they were by defeats and
losses, exposed to inclement weather, and unaccustomed to military
hardships, they would longer forego the comforts of their homes, to drag
out the residue of a ruinous campaign.
In addition, too, to the superiority of the force that was following
him, the rivers gave the enemy facilities, by means of their shipping,
to throw troops in his rear. In this extremity he cast about in every
direction for assistance. Colonel Reed, on whom he relied as on a second
self, was despatched to Burlington, with a letter to Governor William
Livingston, describing his hazardous situation, and entreating him to
call out a portion of the New Jersey militia; and General Mifflin was
sent to Philadelphia to implore immediate aid from Congress, and the
local authorities.
His main reliance for prompt assistance, however, was upon Lee. On the
24th came a letter from that general, addressed to Colonel Reed.
Washington opened it, as he was accustomed to do, in the absence of that
officer, with letters addressed to him on the business of the army. Lee
was at his old encampment at Northcastle. He had no means, he said, of
crossing at Dobbs’ Ferry, and the round by King’s Ferry would be so
great, that he could not get there in time to answer any purpose. “I
have therefore,” added he, “ordered General Heath, who is close to the
only ferry which can be passed, to detach two thousand men to apprise
his Excellency, and await his further orders; a mode which I flatter
myself will answer better what I conceive to be the spirit of the
orders, than should I move the corps from hence. Withdrawing our troops
from hence would be attended with some very serious consequences, which
at present would be tedious to enumerate; as to myself,” adds he, “I
hope to set out to-morrow.”
A letter of the same date (Nov. 23d), from Lee to James Bowdoin,
president of the Massachusetts council, may throw some light on his
motives for delaying to obey the orders of the commander-in-chief.
“Before the unfortunate affair of Fort Washington,” writes he, “it was
my opinion that the two armies—that on the east, and that on the west
side of the North River—must rest each on its own bottom; that the idea
of detaching and reinforcing from one side to the other, on every motion
of the enemy, was chimerical; but to harbor such a thought in our
present circumstances, is absolute insanity. In this invasion, should
the enemy alter the present direction of their operations, and attempt
to open the passage of the Highlands, or enter New England, I should
never entertain the thought of being succored by the western army. I
know it is impossible. We must, therefore, depend upon ourselves. To
Connecticut and Massachusetts, I shall look for assistance. * * * * * I
hope the cursed job of Fort Washington will occasion no dejection: the
place itself was of no value. For my own part, I am persuaded that if we
only act with common sense, spirit, and decision, the day must be our
own.”
In another letter to Bowdoin, dated on the following day, and enclosing
an extract from Washington’s letter of Nov. 21st, he writes: “Indecision
bids fair for tumbling down the goodly fabric of American freedom, and,
with it, the rights of mankind. ’Twas indecision of Congress prevented
our having a noble army, and on an excellent footing. ’Twas indecision
in our military councils which cost us the garrison of Fort Washington,
the consequence of which must be fatal, unless remedied in time by a
contrary spirit. Enclosed I send you an extract of a letter from the
general, on which you will make your comments; and I have no doubt you
will concur with me in the necessity of raising immediately an army to
save us from perdition. Affairs appear in so important a crisis, that I
think the resolves of the Congress must no longer too nicely weigh with
us. We must save the community, in spite of the ordinances of the
legislature. There are times when we must commit treason against the
laws of the State, for the salvation of the State. The present crisis
demands this brave, virtuous kind of treason.” He urges President
Bowdoin, therefore, to waive all formalities, and not only complete the
regiments prescribed to the province, but to add four companies to each
regiment. “We must not only have a force sufficient to cover your
province, and all these fertile districts, from the insults and
irruptions of the tyrant’s troops, but sufficient to drive ’em out of
all their quarters in the Jerseys, or all is lost. * * * In the mean
time, send up a formidable body of militia, to supply the place of the
Continental troops, which I am ordered to convey over the river. Let
your people be well supplied with blankets, and warm clothes, as I am
determined, by the help of God, to unnest ’em, even in the dead of
winter.”[138]
It is evident Lee considered Washington’s star to be on the decline, and
his own in the ascendant. The “affair of Fort Washington,” and the
“indecision of the commander-in-chief,” were apparently his watchwords.
On the following day (24th), he writes to Washington from Northcastle,
on the subject of removing troops across the Hudson. “I have received
your orders, and shall endeavor to put them in execution, but question
whether I shall be able to carry with me any considerable number; not so
much from a want of zeal in the men, as from their wretched condition
with respect to shoes, stockings, and blankets, which the present bad
weather renders more intolerable. I sent Heath orders to transport two
thousand men across the river, apprise the general, and wait for further
orders; but that great man (as I might have expected) intrenched himself
within the letter of his instructions, and refused to part with a single
file, though I undertook to replace them with a part of my own.” He
concludes by showing that, so far from hurrying to the support of his
commander-in-chief, he was meditating a side blow of his own devising.
“I should march this day with Glover’s brigade; but have just received
intelligence that Rogers’ corps, a part of the light-horse, and another
brigade lie in so exposed a situation, as to present us the fairest
opportunity of carrying them off. If we succeed, it will have a great
effect, and amply compensate for two days’ delay.”
Scarce had Lee sent this letter, when he received one from Washington,
informing him that he had mistaken his views in regard to the troops
required to cross the Hudson; it was his (Lee’s) division that he wanted
to have over. The force under Heath must remain to guard the posts and
passes through the Highlands, the importance of which was so infinitely
great, that there should not be the least possible risk of losing them.
In the same letter Washington, who presumed Lee was by this time at
Peekskill, advised him to take every precaution to come by a safe route,
and by all means to keep between the enemy and the mountains, as he
understood they were taking measures to intercept his march.
Lee’s reply was still from Northcastle. He explained that his idea of
detaching troops from Heath’s division was merely for expedition’s sake,
intending to replace them from his own. The want of carriages and other
causes had delayed him. From the force of the enemy remaining in
Westchester County, he did not conceive the number of them in the
Jerseys to be near so great as Washington was taught to believe. He had
been making a sweep of the country to clear it of the tories. Part of
his army had now moved on, and he would set out on the following day. He
concluded with the assurance, “I shall take care to obey your
Excellency’s orders, in regard to my march, as exactly as possible.”
On the same day, he vents his spleen in a tart letter to Heath. “I
perceive,” writes he, “that you have formed an idea, that should General
Washington remove to the Straits of Magellan, the instructions he left
with you, upon a particular occasion, have, to all intents and purposes,
invested you with a command separate from, and independent of any other
superiors. * * * * That General Heath is by no means to consider himself
obliged to obey the second in command.” He concluded by informing him
that, as the commander-in-chief was now separated from them, he (Lee)
commanded, of course, on this side of the water, and for the future
would, and must be obeyed.
Before receiving this letter, Heath, doubtful whether Washington might
not be pressed, and desirous of having his troops across the Hudson, had
sent off an express to him for explicit instructions on that point, and,
in the mean time, had kept them ready for a move.
General George Clinton, who was with him, and had the safety of the
Hudson at heart, was in an agony of solicitude. “We have been under
marching orders these three days past,” writes he, “and only wait the
directions of General Washington. Should they be to move, all’s over
with the river this season, and, I fear, for ever. General Lee, four or
five days ago, had orders to move with his division across the river.
Instead of so doing, he ordered General Heath to march his men through,
and he would replace them with so many of his. General Heath could not
do this consistent with his instructions, but put his men under marching
orders to wait his Excellency’s orders.” Honest George Clinton was still
perplexed and annoyed by these marchings and countermarchings; and
especially with these incessant retreats. “A strange way of cooking
business!” writes he. “We have no particular accounts yet from
head-quarters, _but I am apt to believe retreating is yet fashionable_.”
The return of the express sent to Washington, relieved Clinton’s anxiety
about the Highlands; reiterating the original order, that the division
under Heath should remain for the protection of the passes.
Washington was still at Newark when, on the 27th, he received Lee’s
letter of the 24th, speaking of his scheme of capturing Rogers the
partisan. Under other circumstances it might have been a sufficient
excuse for his delay, but higher interests were at stake; he immediately
wrote to Lee as follows: “My former letters were so full and explicit,
as to the necessity of your marching as early as possible, that it is
unnecessary to add more on that head. I confess I expected you would
have been sooner in motion. The force here, when joined by yours, will
not be adequate to any great opposition; at present it is weak, and it
has been more owing to the badness of the weather that the enemy’s
progress has been checked, than any resistance we could make. They are
now pushing this way,—part of ’em have passed the Passaic. Their plan is
not entirely unfolded, but I shall not be surprised if Philadelphia
should turn out the object of their movement.”
The situation of the little army was daily becoming more perilous. In a
council of war, several of the members urged a move to Morristown, to
form a junction with the troops expected from the Northern army.
Washington, however, still cherished the idea of making a stand at
Brunswick on the Raritan, or, at all events, of disputing the passage of
the Delaware; and in this intrepid resolution he was warmly seconded by
Greene.
Breaking up his camp once more, therefore, he continued his retreat
towards New Brunswick; but so close was Cornwallis upon him, that his
advance entered one end of Newark, just as the American rear-guard had
left the other.
From Brunswick, Washington wrote on the 29th to William Livingston,
governor of the Jerseys, requesting him to have all boats and river
craft, for seventy miles along the Delaware, removed to the western bank
out of the reach of the enemy, and put under guard. He was disappointed
in his hope of making a stand on the banks of the Raritan. All the force
he could muster at Brunswick, including the New Jersey militia, did not
exceed four thousand men. Colonel Reed had failed in procuring aid from
the New Jersey legislature. That body, shifting from place to place, was
on the eve of dissolution. The term of the Maryland and New Jersey
troops in the flying camp had expired. General Mercer endeavored to
detain them, representing the disgrace of turning their back upon the
cause when the enemy was at hand: his remonstrances were fruitless. As
to the Pennsylvania levies, they deserted in such numbers, that guards
were stationed on the roads and ferries to intercept them.
At this moment of care and perplexity, a letter, forwarded by express,
arrived at head-quarters. It was from General Lee, dated from his camp
at Northcastle, to Colonel Reed, and was in reply to the letter written
by that officer from Hackensack on the 21st, which we have already laid
before the reader. Supposing that it related to official business,
Washington opened it, and read as follows:
“MY DEAR REED:—I received your most obliging, flattering letter; lament
with you that fatal indecision of mind, which in war is a much greater
disqualification than stupidity, or even want of personal courage.
Accident may put a decisive blunderer in the right; but eternal defeat
and miscarriage must attend the man of the best parts, if cursed with
indecision. The General recommends in so pressing a manner as almost to
amount to an order, to bring over the continental troops under my
command, which recommendation, or order, throws me into the greatest
dilemma from several considerations.” After stating these
considerations, he adds: “My reason for not having marched already is,
that we have just received intelligence that Rogers’ corps, the
light-horse, part of the Highlanders, and another brigade, lie in so
exposed a situation as to give the fairest opportunity of being carried.
I should have attempted it last night, but the rain was too violent, and
when our pieces are wet, you know our troops are _hors du combat_. This
night I hope will be better. * * * * * * I only wait myself for this
business of Rogers and company being over. I shall then fly to you; for,
to confess a truth, I really think our chief will do better with me than
without me.”
A glance over this letter sufficed to show Washington that, at this dark
moment, when he most needed support and sympathy, his character and
military conduct were the subject of disparaging comments, between the
friend in whom he had so implicitly confided, and a sarcastic and
apparently self-constituted rival. Whatever may have been his feelings
of wounded pride and outraged friendship, he restrained them, and
enclosed the letter to Reed, with the following chilling note:
“DEAR SIR:—The enclosed was put into my hands by an express from White
Plains. Having no idea of its being a private letter, much less
suspecting the tendency of the correspondence, I opened it; as I have
done all other letters to you from the same place, and Peekskill, upon
the business of your office, as I conceived, and found them to be. This,
as it is the truth, must be my excuse for seeing the contents of a
letter, which neither inclination nor intention would have prompted me
to,” &c.
The very calmness and coldness of this note must have had a greater
effect upon Reed, than could have been produced by the most vehement
reproaches. In subsequent communications, he endeavored to explain away
the offensive paragraphs in Lee’s letter, declaring there was nothing in
his own inconsistent with the respect and affection he had ever borne
for Washington’s person and character.
Fortunately for Reed, Washington never saw that letter. There were
passages in it beyond the reach of softening explanation. As it was, the
purport of it, as reflected in Lee’s reply, had given him a sufficient
shock. His magnanimous nature, however, was incapable of harboring long
resentments; especially in matters relating solely to himself. His
personal respect for Colonel Reed continued; he invariably manifested a
high sense of his merits, and consulted him, as before, on military
affairs; but his hitherto affectionate confidence in him, as a
sympathizing friend, had received an incurable wound. His letters,
before so frequent, and such perfect outpourings of heart and mind,
became few and far between, and confined to matters of business.
It must have been consoling to Washington at this moment of bitterness,
to receive the following letter (dated Nov. 27th) from William
Livingston, the intelligent and patriotic governor of New Jersey. It
showed that while many misjudged him, and friends seemed falling from
his side, others appreciated him truly, and the ordeal he was
undergoing.
“I can easily form some idea of the difficulties under which you labor,”
writes Livingston, “particularly of one for which the public can make no
allowance, because your prudence, and fidelity to the cause, will not
suffer you to reveal it to the public; an instance of magnanimity,
superior, perhaps, to any that can be shown in battle. But depend upon
it, my dear sir, the impartial world will do you ample justice before
long. May God support you under the fatigue, both of body and mind, to
which you must be constantly exposed.”[139]
Washington lingered at Brunswick until the 1st of December, in the vain
hope of being reinforced. The enemy, in the mean time, advanced through
the country, impressing waggons and horses, and collecting cattle and
sheep, as if for a distant march. At length their vanguard appeared on
the opposite side. of the Raritan. Washington immediately broke down the
end of the bridge next the village, and after nightfall resumed his
retreat. In the mean time, as the river was fordable, Captain Alexander
Hamilton planted his field-pieces on high, commanding ground, and opened
a spirited fire, to check any attempt of the enemy to cross.
At Princeton, Washington left twelve hundred men in two brigades, under
Lord Stirling and General Adam Stephen, to cover the country, and watch
the motions of the enemy. Stephen was the same officer that had served
as a colonel under Washington in the French war, as second in command of
the Virginia troops, and had charge of Fort Cumberland. In consideration
of his courage and military capacity, he had, in 1764, been intrusted
with the protection of the frontier. He had recently brought a
detachment of Virginia troops to the army, and received from Congress,
in September, the commission of brigadier-general.
The harassed army reached Trenton on the 2d of December. Washington
immediately proceeded to remove his baggage and stores across the
Delaware. In his letters from this place to the President of Congress,
he gives his reasons for his continued retreat. “Nothing but necessity
obliged me to retire before the enemy, and leave so much of the Jerseys
unprotected. Sorry am I to observe that the frequent calls upon the
militia of this State, the want of exertion in the principal gentlemen
of the country, and a fatal supineness and insensibility of danger, till
it is too late to prevent an evil that was not only foreseen, but
foretold, have been the causes of our late disgraces.
“If the militia of this State had stepped forth in season (and timely
notice they had), we might have prevented the enemy’s crossing the
Hackensack. We might, with equal possibility of success, have made a
stand at Brunswick on the Raritan. But as both these rivers were
fordable in a variety of places, being knee deep only, it required many
men to guard the passes, and these we had not.”
In excuse for the people of New Jersey, it may be observed, that they
inhabited an open, agricultural country, where the sound of war had
never been heard. Many of them looked upon the Revolution as rebellion;
others thought it a ruined enterprise; the armies engaged in it had been
defeated and broken up. They beheld the commander-in-chief retreating
through their country with a handful of men, weary, wayworn, dispirited;
without tents, without clothing, many of them barefooted, exposed to
wintry weather, and driven from post to post, by a well-clad, well-fed,
triumphant force, tricked out in all the glittering bravery of war.
Could it be wondered at, that peaceful husbandmen, seeing their quiet
fields thus suddenly overrun by adverse hosts, and their very
hearthstones threatened with outrage, should, instead of flying to arms,
seek for the safety of their wives and little ones, and the protection
of their humble means, from the desolation which too often marks the
course even of friendly armies?
Lord Howe and his brother sought to profit by this dismay and
despondency. A proclamation, dated 30th of November, commanded all
persons in arms against his majesty’s government, to disband and return
home, and all Congresses to desist from treasonable acts: offering a
free pardon to all who should comply within fifty days.
Many who had been prominent in the cause, hastened to take advantage of
this proclamation. Those who had most property to lose, were the first
to submit. The middle ranks remained generally steadfast in this time of
trial.[140]
The following extract of a letter from a field-officer in New York,
dated Dec. 2d, to his friend in London, gives the British view of
affairs. “The rebels continue flying before our army Lord Cornwallis
took the fort opposite Brunswick, plunged into Raritan River, and seized
the town. Mr. Washington had orders from the Congress to rally and
defend that post, but he sent them word he could not. He was seen
retreating with two brigades to Trenton, where they talk of resisting;
but such a panic has seized the rebels, that no part of the Jerseys will
hold them, and I doubt whether Philadelphia itself will stop their
career. The Congress have lost their authority. * * * * They are in such
consternation that they know not what to do. The two Adamses are in New
England; Franklin gone to France; Lynch has lost his senses; Rutledge
has gone home disgusted; Dana is persecuting at Albany, and Jay’s in the
country playing as bad a part; so that the fools have lost the
assistance of the knaves. However, should they embrace the enclosed
proclamation, they may yet escape the halter. * * * Honest David Mathew,
the mayor, has made his escape from them, and arrived here this
day.”[141]
In this dark day of peril to the cause, and to himself, Washington
remained firm and undaunted. In casting about for some stronghold where
he might make a desperate stand for the liberties of his country, his
thoughts reverted to the mountain regions of his early campaigns.
General Mercer was at hand, who had shared his perils among these
mountains, and his presence may have contributed to bring them to his
mind. “What think you,” said Washington; “if we should retreat to the
back parts of Pennsylvania, would the Pennsylvanians support us?”
“If the lower counties give up, the back counties will do the same,” was
the discouraging reply.
“We must then retire to Augusta County in Virginia,” said Washington.
“Numbers will repair to us for safety, and we will try a predatory war.
If overpowered, we must cross the Alleganies.”
Such was the indomitable spirit, rising under difficulties, and buoyant
in the darkest moment, that kept our tempest-tost cause from foundering.