and died the following morning at eight. At six in the evening he was
buried--all the generals attending his funeral, and marching to an
eminence where his remains were deposited. The Americans, entirely
ignorant of the nature of the collection, directed their artillery
towards the British. Fortunately, no lives were lost, and no one was
wounded. General Gates, on learning the object of the assemblage,
expressed his deep regret at the firing.
XI. PROGRESS OF THE WAR.
STATE of affairs in England--Treaty with France--Movements in the
British Parliament--Overtures to Congress--Rejection of
them--Battle of Monmouth--Disastrous Retreat of General
Lee--Fortunate interposition of Washington--His rebuke of
Lee--Tremendous Battle--Sufferings of the Armies--Renewal of
the Contest--Midnight Retreat of the British army--Subsequent
Trial and Dismission of General Lee.
1. STATE OF AFFAIRS IN ENGLAND.
The effect produced by the surrender of General Burgoyne, upon the
British cabinet and the nation at large, was as grievous and
depressing, as it had been joyous and animating to congress and the
American people. The most brilliant success had been anticipated by
the former; the most ignominious result had occurred. The pride of the
nation was humbled, and those who had disapproved of the war, were now
loud in their censures of ministers.
Already had the war cost England twenty thousand men and thirty
millions of money. But more of both were now needed. Reluctant to ask
parliament for a fresh levy, the ministers, during the recess of that
body, near the beginning of the year 1778, dispatched agents into the
different provinces of the kingdom, to spur the inhabitants to enlist,
and to furnish voluntary contributions to carry on the war.
The success of this plan was only partial--far less than anticipated,
or the exigencies of the case required. The citizens of Liverpool and
Manchester, however, responded to the call, and agreed to raise and
equip a regiment of one thousand each. Edinburgh and Glasgow followed
their example. London, as a city, peremptorily refused to raise
troops--but the friends of the government raised the sum of twenty
thousand pounds.
2. TREATY WITH FRANCE.
Not long after the declaration of independence, commissioners were
authorized to bring the subject of a recognition before the court of
Versailles, and to urge the measure by such considerations as existed
in the case. This they had done, and continued to do, so long as any
prospect of success existed. At length, despairing of obtaining their
object, they were about to abandon further effort, when the joyful
intimation was communicated to Dr. Franklin, that a treaty, involving
the desired recognition, had been determined upon by the king and his
ministers. On the 6th of February, 1778, this measure, most auspicious
to American interests, was concluded at Paris. It was signed on behalf
of the king by M. Gerard; and for the United States by Benjamin
Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. The treaty stipulated--a thing
until then unheard of on the part of a king--that the essential and
express object of the alliance was to maintain effectually the
_liberty_, _sovereignty_, and _independence of the United States_.
[Illustration: American Commissioners before the Court of Louis XVI.]
On the 21st of March, the American commissioners were with great pomp
and ceremony, introduced by Count de Vergennes before the throne,
whereon was seated the king, Louis XVI., in the midst of the grandees of
his court. The honor was one which was conferred only when the king
gave audience to the ambassadors of sovereigns and independent states.
On the 2d of May, the French frigate _La Sensible_, having on board
the important treaty, reached the American shores. Congress was
forthwith convened, and the treaty was ratified. The most heartfelt
joy pervaded the country. The army, drawn up in the order of battle,
received the intelligence with exultation not to be described.
3. MOVEMENTS IN THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT.
Before the treaty between France and the United States was made
public, the British ministry had knowledge of its existence. Justly
alarmed, they felt the necessity of adopting some measures by which to
bring the war to a close, without a collision with France. What those
measures should be, was a question on which a diversity of opinion
existed in the cabinet. It is asserted, that some of the members, in
secret session, proposed at once to acknowledge the independence of
the United States, and to conclude a treaty with them. But on the 19th
of February, Lord North introduced a resolution into parliament,
admitting that the parliament could not in future impose any tax or
duty on the colonies of North America, except such only as should be
deemed beneficial to commerce, and the product even of those to be
collected under the authority of the respective colonies, and to be
employed for their use and advantage. He proposed, besides, that five
commissioners should be appointed, empowered to adjust with any
assembly or individual whatsoever, the differences existing between
Great Britain and her colonies; it being understood, however, that the
compacts were not to take effect till ratified by the parliament.
To the surprise and indignation of the friends of the war, the bill
passed; and, shortly after, the king appointed for commissioners the
Earl of Carlisle, William Eden, George Johnstone, and the
commander-in-chief of the English army in America. The three first
sailed from St. Helena for America on the 21st, on board the ship
Trident.
In the beginning of June, the commissioners arrived, and on the 9th,
repaired to Philadelphia. Soon after, they made a communication to
congress, explanatory of their object, and requested the privilege of
opening a conference with that body, or with some of its members,
either at New York, or some other place which congress should please
to appoint.
The serious consideration of congress was given to the overture, and
on the 17th of June, their answer was returned. In substance it was,
that they would be ready to enter upon the consideration of peace and
commerce, not inconsistent with treaties already subsisting, when the
king of Great Britain should demonstrate a sincere disposition for
that purpose; of which no other proof could be admitted but that of an
explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, or
the withdrawal of his fleets and armies.
Thus terminated the negotiation. America, steady to her purpose, would
not listen to any proposal which did not involve the recognition of her
independence. Great Britain was yet too proud to accede to such terms,
and consequently, the idea of accommodation was abandoned, and the most
vigorous measures were adopted to wage war against her ancient ally and
her disobedient child, whose fortunes had now become linked together.
It may be added in this place, that, subsequent to the failure of the
commissioners in effecting the object of their mission, commenced a
system of intrigue with several distinguished persons, and especially
with members of congress, to whom one at least addressed confidential
letters, with the hope of winning them to the royal cause. Some of
these letters and propositions at length were made public. General
Reed, a member of congress, stated that a proposition had been made to
him by Johnstone, through a _lady_, that if he would promote the
rëunion of the two countries, he should have any office in the
colonies which he might name. His reply was worthy of a Christian and
a patriot: "_I am not worth purchasing; but such as I am, the king of
Great Britain is not rich enough to do it_."
4. BATTLE OF MONMOUTH.
During the winter of 1777-8, the British army had occupied
Philadelphia; the winter-quarters of the American army were at Valley
Forge. On the opening of the spring, in consequence of the alliance of
France and America, orders were issued to the British general to
evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate the royal force in the city and
harbor of New York. In pursuance of this resolution, the royal army,
now under command of Sir Henry Clinton--General Howe having returned
to England--left Philadelphia, and on the 18th of June, passed the
Delaware into New Jersey.
Washington immediately quitted his camp, and hung upon the British
army, watching a favorable opportunity to offer battle. On the 27th,
the British army encamped on some high grounds in the neighborhood of
Freehold court-house, in the county of Monmouth.
On the morning of the 28th, General Lee was ordered to take command of
five thousand men, and commence the attack.
At first, he declined the honor; but judging, on reflection, that such
a procedure would redound to his discredit, he now sought the command
at the hands of Lafayette, to whom, on his declining it, it had been
tendered.
Lee immediately put his troops in motion for the plain of Monmouth,
some four or five miles distant. On approaching it, the British were
already in motion. The army was in advance of the baggage-train, which
covered miles in extent. The morning was clear, and the sun poured
down his heat so fervidly, as seemingly to cause all nature to faint.
Before noon, the mercury of the thermometer reached ninety-six. Man
and beast panted for breath. The sand-plain became parched as an
oven, and water was needed at almost every step. The sufferings of men
and horses early became nearly insupportable.
Moreover, it was the _Sabbath_--that day when the hum of life is
ordinarily hushed, and when men are commonly with their families in
the house of God. We may pause, we trust, to say, that that Sabbath,
and the God of that Sabbath, would have been more honored--nor do we
believe that the patriot cause would have suffered in the sequel--had
Washington, instead of sending out a hostile corps--had he and his
troops spent it in paying divine honors to the God of our fathers. It
had been still better, could hostile armies have that day grounded
their arms, and of that plain made a sanctuary, and there, in the
exercise of that friendship and love which the gospel enjoins,
worshiped together at a common altar, and before a common Father. But
the latter was not to be expected--perhaps, not the former. Other
thoughts were occupying those bosoms, and a far different spectacle
was that day to be witnessed. Let us not judge severely. We will hope
that the honor of God did animate those sons of the Pilgrims. We know
that they were true patriots, and that they were fighting for their
altars and their firesides. Nor is it to be doubted that they would
have preferred the calm and delightful worship of God, with their
families, in the sanctuaries of their own quiet villages. But they
were summoned to the field of battle, and here, now, we find them soon
employed amid scenes of carnage and death.
Wayne was that day in command under Lee. On seeing the British
train--horses and waggons, miles in extent--following the army in
advance, the former, with his detachment, hastened rapidly forward,
with the intent to cut off and capture the train. Meanwhile, Lee, with
the rest of his division, took a more circuitous route, designing to
attack the corps which had the train in charge. Most unexpectedly,
however, just as he was ready to commence the charge, intelligence was
received that the entire British army--which was on the retreat, but
which had had intimation of Lee's advance--had wheeled about, and were
in full march to protect its rear.
Lee had reluctantly taken the command; he was in ill-humor, and,
moreover, was probably now appalled at the prospect before him. At all
adventures, greatly to his discredit, for as yet he had not commenced
action, he ordered a retreat. This movement fell upon Wayne like a
thunderbolt, who was himself compelled, by reason of it, to fall back,
at the hazard of his entire command.
Washington was still at a distance with the remainder of the army; but
was rapidly approaching the theatre of the contest. The distant
cannonade impelled him forward. The troops, partaking of his own
enthusiasm, if not of his anxiety, laid aside knapsacks--coats--all
that encumbered, and amidst dust and heat pressed on to the encounter.
At this moment, a horseman was seen approaching from the immediate
battle-field. He pressed his horse, and made announcement to
Washington that Lee's division, in utter disorder, was in full
retreat. For a moment, the latter seemed petrified with astonishment;
and the next moment--for it seems he had for some reason
dismounted--vaulting upon his saddle, he sprang forward, and like a
winged arrow directed his way to the scene of confusion and flight.
The instant he was seen by the troops in retreat, "The brave
fellows"--we use the stirring language of Headley--"the brave fellows,
who had not been half beaten, sent up a shout that was heard the whole
length of the line, and '_Long live Washington!_' rent the air.
Flinging a hasty inquiry to Osgood, as to the reason, who replied,
'_Sir, we are fleeing from a shadow;_' he galloped to the rear, and,
reining up his horse beside Lee, bent on him a face of fearful
expression, and thundered in his ear, as he leaned over his
saddle-bow, '_Sir, I desire to know what is the reason, and whence
arises this disorder and confusion!_' It was not the words, but the
smothered tone of passion in which they were uttered, and the manner,
which was severe as a blow, that made this rebuke so terrible.
Wheeling his steed, he spurred up to Oswald's and Stewart's regiments,
saying, 'On you I depend to check this pursuit;' and riding along the
ranks, he roused their courage to the highest pitch by his stirring
appeals; while that glorious shout of '_Long live Washington!_' again
shook the field. The sudden gust of passion had swept by; but the
storm that ever slumbered in his bosom was now fairly up; and,
galloping about on his splendid charger, his tall and commanding form
towering above all about him, and his countenance lit up with
enthusiasm, he was the impersonation of all that is great and heroic
in man. In a moment, the aspect of the field was changed--the
retreating mass halted--officers were seen hurrying about in every
direction, their shouts and orders ringing above the roar of the
enemy's guns. The ranks opened--and, under the galling fire of the
British, wheeled, and formed in splendid order. Washington then rode
back to Lee, and, pointing to the firm front he had arrayed against
the enemy, exclaimed, 'Will you, sir, command in that place?' He
replied, 'Yes.'--'Well,' then said he, 'I expect you to check the
enemy immediately.' 'Your orders shall be obeyed,' replied the stung
commander, 'and I will not be the first to leave the field.' The
battle then opened with renewed fury, and Washington hurried back, to
bring his own division into the field."
This took time, as the division was still at a distance. Meanwhile,
however, the retreat was partially staid. The troops once more
rallied. They stood--they fought--fought with unwonted desperation.
But the overpowering legions of the enemy pressed hard. Their shouts
were deafening--their cannonade appalling and destructive. Lee now
attempted to his utmost power to withstand the impetuous shock--but it
was entirely beyond the compass of his troops. They were again giving
way. A few moments longer, and all would be lost. At this critical
juncture, Hamilton appeared, seemingly sent as a messenger from
above--crossing the field--his charger covered with foam, and his
hair streaming in the wind--Hamilton appeared, and riding up to Lee,
said to him: "_My dear general, let us die here rather than retreat._"
What would have been the effect of this soul-stirring and patriotic
address of Hamilton, had no succor been at hand, we pretend not to say.
They were words of comfort and assurance; and, if necessary to prevent a
dishonorable retreat, there doubtless Hamilton, and perhaps now Lee
himself, would have surrendered up life. But succor was at hand.
Washington with his division had arrived. No time was lost. He issued
his orders, and they were obeyed. Sterling, Knox, Wayne, brought up
their several commands, and soon the battle was raging, and the whole
plains shook under the clangor of arms and the thunder of artillery. For
a time, few such spectacles were seen during the Revolutionary war. The
heat of the day, we have already said, was intense. Water was not to be
had, or rather there was no time to quench parched lips, had there been
any. Their thirst added to the sufferings of the troops immeasurably.
The tongues of the soldiers became so inflamed and swollen, as not to be
retained in their mouths. Yet they fought, and fought with a desperation
increased by the very sufferings they endured. The British suffered from
the same causes, and fought with the same desperation. And for a time,
it was indeed doubtful whose cause would triumph. But the batteries of
Knox and Sterling, like volcanoes, hurled death and destruction on every
side; while the impetuous Wayne with his columns, torrent-like, spread
confusion and dismay in every step of their progress. There was a
concentration of effort--and that effort, doubtless the more earnest and
effective, for the reason of the previous unwarranted and pusillanimous
retreat.
In turn, the British themselves now retreated, and encamped on the
spot which Lee's division had occupied in the morning. They had fought
with unwonted zeal. Officers and soldiers were exhausted. They coveted
rest. They needed repose. It was so with the Americans. "Even
Washington's powerful frame was overcome by the heat and toil he had
passed through; and as he stood begrimed with the dust and the smoke
of the battle, and wiped his brow, the perspiration fell in streams
from his horse, which looked as if it had been dragged through a muddy
stream, rather than rode by a living man."
Yet, wearied as he was--wearied and worn down as were his officers and
men--Washington could not consent so to terminate the day. A further
duty remained ere he slept. That duty was to dislodge the enemy from
the position which he had taken. His officers--his army sympathized
with him; they were willing to put forth one more effort to secure all
that they had promised themselves, and which in the morning had seemed
so practicable.
Two brigades were therefore ordered to attack the British at their
post--on the right and left. The battle was now renewed, and renewed
with all the spirit and determination of an earlier hour. It
continued, however, but for a brief period. The sun was fast
descending when the second battle began, and had set ere the several
corps had really attained their proposed positions. It was fortunate,
probably, that the contest was interrupted. Both armies had done
enough. Had Washington succeeded in dislodging the enemy, his troops
were too much spent to have followed up the victory.
There they now paused. Darkness soon set in. Too much overcome even to
administer to the wants of nature, the troops of both armies flung
themselves upon the parched ground, and slept. They slept in sight of
each other, and they slept strong and deep. With the morning light,
Washington had decided to renew the battle. He, therefore, instead of
retiring to his marquee, wrapped himself in his cloak, and sunk upon
the earth in the midst of his soldiers.
At the dawn of morning, Washington rose, and with his recruited
followers was about to follow up the advantages of the preceding day.
But the enemy had retired. Aware of the peril of his condition, the
British commander had roused his army at midnight, and ordered a
retreat. And so silently was that retreat effected, and so soundly had
the American army slept, officers and men, that no one of the thousands
which composed it, had any suspicion of the retreat, till the light of
day revealed it. Washington was indeed disappointed; but the departure
of the enemy, if it was not in all respects equal to a victory, gave
practical assurance that Washington had suffered no defeat.
There were doubtless other engagements during the Revolutionary struggle
more brilliant, and of greater influence, as to the final result, than
the battle of Monmouth. But it is doubtful whether there was a single
other one in which there was a higher exhibition of firmness, or the
practice of greater self-denial, or the endurance of greater suffering.
Never did commander appear more nobly than did Washington. But for his
presence at the critical moment--his quick perception of the danger,
and the means of averting it--his celerity in issuing his orders--his
manly but terrific rebuke of Lee--and perhaps more than all, his
undaunted bravery, and his firm stand when all were flying from a
pursuing foe--all would indeed have been lost.
For twelve long hours were the respective armies that day engaged.
They numbered about twenty thousand men. They were on a plain where
little or no water could be obtained, and with a thermometer standing
the whole day at nearly one hundred degrees. Not a few died from
sun-stroke--and still more from excessive fatigue. The cry for
"_water! water!_" from the wounded and the dying, was sufficient to
overcome the stoutest heart.
It is not necessary to dwell longer on the particulars of this
remarkable battle. The British troops, as already intimated, left
Washington in occupation of the field. On the following day, finding
his foe gone, he took up his line of march, and by easy stages moved
towards the Hudson.
It does not belong to the plan of our work to pursue the history of
the difficulty which that day arose between Washington and Lee,
growing out of the retreat of the latter. That retreat was most
unexpected, dishonorable, and needless. So Washington evidently deemed
it, and this was the occasion of his severe rebuke of that officer in
the field. It has been said that Washington was profane. That he was
greatly excited, calm as he usually was, admits of no question. That
he was profane, is without proof. Weems says, as quoted by Headley,
that as he rode up, he exclaimed, "For God's sake! General Lee, what
is the cause of this ill-timed prudence?"--to which the latter
replied, "No man can boast a larger share of that rascally virtue than
your excellency." What reliance, if any, is to be placed upon the
above authority, the writer pretends not to say. To an inquiry once
made of Lafayette, at La Grange, by Dr. Sparks, what the precise
expression of Washington was, he replied, that although near him at
the moment, he could not have told an hour subsequently. He thought,
however, that it was not so much the expression itself, as the manner
in which it was uttered, that stung the retreating general. That
manner was terrible. The wrath of Washington was without disguise.
But the results of the day served to meliorate the feelings of
Washington towards Lee, whatever opinion he might have continued to
entertain of his unworthy conduct. It is said that he rëinstated him
in his old command; and had Lee reciprocated the feelings and kindness
of Washington, the unpleasant occurrence might have passed, and have
been forgotten. But Lee was hot-tempered; and, under the smart of
rebuke, addressed a most ill-judged and "saucy" letter to Washington,
in which he demanded a trial by court-martial. Washington, in his
reply, accused Lee of a breach of orders, in not attacking the enemy;
and a breach of good behavior, unbecoming an officer of his rank, in
so hasty and cowardly a retreat. Lee rejoined, and in a manner
entirely in accordance with his previous communication. "You cannot,"
he wrote, "afford me greater pleasure, sir, than in giving me an
opportunity of showing to America the efficiency of her respective
servants. I trust that the temporary power of office, and the trivial
dignity attending it, will not be able, by all the mists they can
raise, to effusate the bright rays of truth. In the mean time, your
excellency can have no objection to my retiring from the army."