"There is no time to lose," remarked Adams to Washington. "Letters to me

from Generals Warren and Ward insist that the undisciplined army cannot

be kept together much longer without the aid of Congress; and Congress

has done the best thing it could for the army in appointing you to its

command."

"I shall lose no time in preparations to take command of the army,"

replied Washington. "I shall repair to Cambridge at once."

"Without returning to Mount Vernon?"

"Yes; that would consume too much time. Much as I should enjoy a visit

home, I must forego the pleasure, and hasten to my command."

"A sacrifice, truly," remarked Adams.

"And one that both my wife and mother will appreciate," added

Washington, "although the disappointment will be so great to them. Our

country first, for the sake of our homes."

"True, very true; and it is a terrible necessity that makes it true,"

continued Adams. "War is serious business, and under its direful

necessities you may never see your loved Mount Vernon again."

"No one can be more sensible of that than myself, but personal pleasure

must yield to the demands of patriotism in such a crisis as this. Duty

is the watchword now."

Without consuming time for more than the most hasty preparation,

Washington started for Massachusetts, after penning the following tender

letter to his wife. The epistle shows so much of his noble character

that our narrative would be incomplete without it:

PHILADELPHIA, June 18, 1775.

MY DEAREST,--I am now set down to write you on a subject which

fills me with inexpressible concern; and this concern is greatly

aggravated and increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I

know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress that

the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause

shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to

proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it.

You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you in the most

solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I

have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from

my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a

consciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity,

and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with

you at home than I have the most distant prospect of finding

abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as

it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this

service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to

answer some good purpose. You might, and I suppose did,

perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I was apprehensive

I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to

intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was

utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment without

exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected

dishonor upon myself and given pain to my friends. This I am

sure could not, and ought not, to be pleasing to you, and must

have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely,

therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore

preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I

shall return safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from

the toil or the danger of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow

from the uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone.

I therefore beg that you will summon your whole fortitude, and

pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing will give me so

much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from

your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is, that you would

pursue any plan that is most likely to produce content and a

tolerable degree of tranquility; and it must add greatly to my

uneasy feelings to hear that you are dissatisfied or complaining

at what I really could not avoid.

As life is always uncertain, and common prudence dictates to

every man the necessity of settling his temporal concerns while

it is in his power, and while the mind is calm and undisturbed,

I have, since I came to this place (for I had not time to do it

before I left home), got Colonel Pendleton to draft a will for

me, by the directions I gave him, which will I now enclose.

The provisions made for you in case of my death will, I hope,

be agreeable. I shall add nothing more, as I have several

letters to write, but to desire that you will remember me to

your friends, and to assure you that I am, with the most

unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy,

Your affectionate husband.

The preparation of his will is expressive of his thoughts and feelings

at the time, and it magnifies, also, the sacrifice he was making for his

country.

It will be noticed that the letter to his wife is dated June 18, the day

after the battle of Bunker Hill. He knew nothing of that battle, of

course; and the fact shows all the more how rapidly public affairs were

hastening to a crisis.

It was the 23d of June when he left Philadelphia, and just before

leaving he addressed another brief letter to his wife, that furnishes a

key to his heart:

PHILADELPHIA, June 23, 1775.

MY DEAREST,--As I am within a few minutes of leaving this city,

I could not think of departing from it without dropping you a

line, especially as I do not know whether it will be in my power

to write again until I get to the camp at Boston. I go fully

trusting in that Providence which has been more bountiful to me

than I deserve, and in full confidence of a happy meeting with

you in the fall. I have not time to add more, as I am surrounded

by company to take leave of me. I retain an unalterable

affection for you, which neither time nor distance can change.

My best love to Jack and Nelly, and regards to the rest of the

family, concludes me, with the utmost sincerity,

Your entire

GEO. WASHINGTON.

Two thousand troops had gathered in Philadelphia, and he reviewed them

before leaving. The whole two thousand escorted him out of the city, and

a company of light-horse escorted him to New York, together with

Generals Lee and Schuyler.

Twenty miles from Philadelphia he was met by a courier on horseback,

bringing particulars of the battle of Bunker Hill.

"How many Americans were engaged in it?" Washington inquired.

"About twelve hundred only."

"Who led them?"

"General Prescott."

"How many were killed?"

"About four hundred and fifty were killed and wounded. The British lost

more than half of their men."

"What officers fell?"

"The brave General Warren was one."

"Did the men fight well?"

"Never braver men met a foe."

"Then the liberties of our country are safe," added Washington.

As grand a welcome as could possibly be given, without the burning of

powder, was tendered by the Provincial Assembly of New York and New

Jersey. They could burn no powder because the Colony possessed but four

barrels, having forwarded a thousand barrels to Cambridge for the use of

the army.

Washington left General Schuyler in command at New York and hastened

forward to Cambridge, for at New York he received a more detailed

account of the battle of Bunker Hill. This information caused him to

hasten his journey; and he reached Watertown, where the Legislature was

sitting, on the second day of July. That body gave him an enthusiastic

welcome, and presented a lengthy address to him, in which they spread

out the deplorable condition of the army, pledging their prompt aid in

its organization and discipline.

On the third day of July he was escorted by an imposing cavalcade to

Cambridge, four miles distant, to take immediate command of the army.

Notwithstanding the scarcity of powder, his arrival was announced by

salvos of artillery; and the sight of him, in his splendid bearing, drew

from the admiring thousands the heartiest cheers. The general of whom

they had heard so much even more than met their expectations, and their

joy knew no bounds.

Washington wheeled his noble charger under the shadow of the "Great

Elm," where he formally took command of the Continental Army, thereby

making the tree historic to this day. He was forty-three years of age at

that time.

Mrs. John Adams was in Cambridge when Washington arrived, and she wrote

of him as follows:

"Dignity, ease, and complacency, the gentleman and the soldier look,

agreeably blended in him. Modesty marks every line and feature of his

face. These lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me:

"'Mark his majestic fabric! He's a temple

Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;

His soul's the deity that lodges there,

Nor is the pile unworthy of the God.'"

Washington found General Artemas Ward in command, who informed him that,

"We have fourteen thousand five hundred men, including the sick."

"How many troops of the king hold Boston?" Washington inquired.

"About eleven thousand of the best disciplined troops that England could

send over."

"And how many inhabitants of Boston are there in the city now?"

"Seventeen thousand; and it is said that they are treated as rebels,

except the Tories, who support the cause of the Crown. General Gage is

in command, and Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne arrived with their

last reinforcements."

"Gage was with me twenty years ago in the expedition against Duquesne,"

said Washington. "Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne are the best

generals the king can send, I suppose."

"I judge so. At any rate this army is a mob compared to the royal army

in Boston. Very few of them were ever in the service before. They know

nothing about order and discipline, and care as little."

"They must learn both as quickly as possible," responded Washington. "An

army without discipline can be little more than a mob. My first step

will be to bring the army under rigid military discipline."

Washington, accompanied by General Lee, took immediate measures to

acquaint himself with the condition of the army, and in an incredibly

short time had it distributed thus: The right wing was stationed on the

heights of Roxbury, under the command of Major-General Ward; the left

wing was stationed on Winter and Prospect Hills, in what is now the

city of Somerville, under command of Major-General Lee; while the

centre, under Major-General Putnam, occupied Cambridge. The army was

thus distributed over a line of some twelve miles in length.

The army was destitute of clothing, ammunition, and nearly everything

for its comfort. The mass of them were dressed as they were clad when

they left their farms and work-shops, a dirty, ragged collection of

armed men, though resolute and brave. Their cry against the king's

troops in Boston was:

"Shut them up! Starve them out! Drive them into their ships, and send

their ships out to sea!"

To add to the disheartening situation, Charlestown lay in ashes, having

been set on fire by the enemy's shells at the battle of Bunker Hill;

there were no well-constructed works throughout the whole line of

fortifications; insubordination was popular among the troops, who called

it _independence_; and still worse, jealousies prevailed among the

troops of different Colonies.

The larger part of the army, nearly ten thousand, belonged to

Massachusetts, and they were in the worst plight of all. Washington made

the following magnanimous apology for them:

"This unhappy and devoted province has been so long in a state of

anarchy, and the yoke has been laid so heavily on it, that great

allowances are to be made for troops raised under such circumstances.

The deficiency of members, discipline, and stores can only lead to this

conclusion: _that their spirit has exceeded their strength_."

A British officer wrote home:

"The rebel army are in so wretched a condition as to clothing and

accoutrements, that I believe no nation ever saw such a set of

tatterdemalions. There are few coats among them but what are out at

elbows, and in a whole regiment there is scarce a whole pair of

breeches."

Nevertheless, the material for an army in such a crisis was good. The

famous General Nathaniel Greene of Rhode Island organized three

regiments in that province after the Concord fight, and he was there

with his men, "the best disciplined and appointed troops in the army."

Connecticut also raised a respectable force, and put them under the

command of General Israel Putnam, who left his plough in the furrow,

and galloped off to Boston; and they were there. The brave Colonel Stark

of New Hampshire, with his "Green Mountain boys," was there also. Other

officers of ability were doing all they could with an undisciplined

army, while the rank and file were eager to drive the foe out of Boston.

A leader like Washington was needed to organize and manipulate this

rough mass of material. A chief like him, too, was indispensable to

elevate their moral condition; for drunkenness, revelry, lewdness,

profanity, gambling, not to mention other evils, abounded.

The following was Washington's first order to the army:

"The Continental Congress having now taken all the troops of the several

Colonies which have been raised, or which may be hereafter raised, for

the support and defence of the liberties of America, into their pay and

service, they are now the troops of the United Provinces of North

America; and it is hoped that all distinctions of Colonies will be laid

aside, so that one and the same spirit may animate the whole, and the

only contest be, who shall render, on this great and trying occasion,

the most essential service to the great and common cause in which we are

all engaged. It is required and expected that exact discipline be

observed, and due subordination prevail, through the whole army, as a

failure in these most essential points must necessarily produce extreme

hazard, disorder, and confusion, and end in shameful disappointment and

disgrace. The general most earnestly requires and expects a due

observance of those articles of war established for the government of

the army, which forbid profane cursing, swearing, and drunkenness. And

in like manner he requires and expects of all officers and soldiers, not

engaged on actual duty, a punctual attendance on divine service, to

implore the blessing of Heaven upon the means used for our safety and

defence."

Rev. William Emerson was a chaplain in the army, and he wrote as follows

of the wonderful change Washington wrought in a short time:

"There is great overturning in the camp as to order and regularity. New

lords, new laws. The Generals Washington and Lee are upon the lines

every day. New orders from his Excellency are read to the respective

regiments every morning after prayers. The strictest government is

taking place, and great distinction is made between officers and

soldiers.

"Every one is made to know his place and keep in it, or be tied up and

receive thirty or forty lashes, according to his crime. Thousands are at

work every day from four to eleven o'clock in the morning. It is

surprising how much work has been done. The lines are extended almost

from Cambridge to Mystic River, so that very soon it will be morally

impossible for the enemy to get between the works, except in one place,

which is supposed to be left purposely unfortified to entice the enemy

out of their fortresses."

"The British army in Boston understand their business," remarked

Washington to his secretary, Mr. Reed. "Their works are thoroughly

constructed, and they seem to be provided with every thing that war

requires." At that time he had reconnoitered until he had acquired quite

a thorough knowledge of their defences.

"King George would not be likely to send over others," answered Reed.

"He is too anxious to awe his rebellious subjects into submission to

pursue another course."

"Well, they are in close quarters now," continued Washington, "although,

if they understood our weakness, they might fight their way out, and

annihilate the American army. I have just discovered that all the powder

in the camp will not furnish the soldiers nine cartridges apiece."

"No more?" exclaimed Reed. "You surprise me!"

"You cannot be more surprised than I am. It is a fearful condition for

this army to be in."

"How can it be so?" added Reed, still more surprised. "According to

that, powder is scarcer than clothing."

"It is true, if my investigation does not mislead," responded

Washington. "No army was ever in a condition so deplorable; and I would

not dare to let my soldiers know the actual state of things, lest they

become demoralized."

"Fortunate for us that so far they are in blissful ignorance of our

condition," said Reed; "but this state of affairs must not be suffered

to continue."

"Certainly not; I shall take immediate measures to remedy the evil."

And he did. Agents were sent in different directions to procure

ammunition. A vessel was sent to the Bermudas for this purpose.

Expeditions to capture British forts in this country and Canada were set

on foot. The manufacture of powder was recommended by Congress.

At that time, the transportation of supplies for an army was a slow and

tedious work. There were no railroads, and the facilities for

transportation by horses and cattle were far inferior to those of the

present day. For example, a little later, Henry Knox, who was a thriving

book-seller in Boston when the British took possession of the city, and

who fought bravely at Bunker Hill, was sent to Ticonderoga and Crown

Point, which the Americans had captured, to bring such artillery and

ordnance stores as could be spared. He was instructed, also, to proceed

to St. John and Montreal, both of which had just been captured by

American expeditions under Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen, Generals

Schuyler and Montgomery. It was in the depth of winter when Knox

returned with over fifty cannon, mortars, and howitzers, and a quantity

of lead and flints, loaded upon forty sleds, drawn by eighty yoke of

cattle. Washington procured for Knox the commission of colonel soon

after he undertook the enterprise.

Washington's headquarters were established at the CRAGIE HOUSE, a

spacious building, favorably situated for the commander-in-chief. For

many years it was owned by Professor Longfellow the poet, who died there

some years since.

Order, sobriety, and religion regulated his headquarters. Morning and

evening prayers were scrupulously maintained, and the whole appearance

of the place indicated that the renowned occupant was a Christian.

Washington required the chaplains of all his regiments to conduct

prayers morning and evening, and religious services on the Sabbath. The

officers were required to see that their men attended all these

services, since they were observed "for their good."

Early in the siege of Boston, when he felt that "if success ever crowns

the American cause, it will be because an All-wise Providence controls

the affairs of men," Washington advised the appointment of a day of

fasting and prayer, to intercede for the blessing of God upon the

little army at Cambridge. Congress appointed the day, and the

commander-in-chief required its observance throughout the army.

Religious services were held, all business suspended, and the day was

made as quiet and religious as Sunday.

One of the earliest arrivals at the camp in Cambridge, after Washington

took command, was from Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, fourteen

hundred sharp-shooters, as we should call them now. They were tall,

stalwart men, dressed in fringed hunting shirts and round caps.

They were received in camp with the wildest demonstrations of joy. A few

weeks later a long, lumbering train of wagons, laden with military

stores captured on the sea, came into camp. Washington had been forced

to send out cruisers, by the action of General Gage in arming vessels to

capture supplies along the American coast. One of his cruisers captured

a brigantine ladened with munitions of war,--two thousand stand of arms,

one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot, and thirty-two

tons musket balls,--which were taken into Cape Ann, and transported from

thence on wagons to Cambridge.

In this way, as well as by the action of Congress and the Provincial

Legislatures, the army of Washington was strengthened and equipped. The

British were so thoroughly entrenched in Boston, and their army so well

disciplined and powerful, that it would have been foolhardy for

Washington to attack them; besides, an attack would have resulted in

burning the city and sacrificing the lives of many friends who lived

there.

"British officers must understand that men fighting for their country

are patriots, and not malefactors," remarked Washington to Mr. Reed, his

secretary. "Cruelty to prisoners anyway is contrary to all the rules of

civilized warfare."

"Well, we are 'rebels,' you know," replied Reed sarcastically, "and

General Gage thinks that 'rebels' have no claim upon his clemency."

"Cruelty to prisoners is not confined to General Gage," responded

Washington. "There is no doubt that the king holds Allen [Ethan] in

irons, and his fellow-captives, which is treating prisoners of war as

savages do."

Ethan Allen was the famous patriot who led two hundred and thirty men

against Fort Ticonderoga, and captured it in May, 1775. He surprised the

commander, and demanded an immediate surrender.

"By whose authority do you make this demand?" inquired the officer in

charge.

"In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!" shouted

Allen.

He was captured by General Prescott in Canada.

"Were the king's forces in Boston to sally forth and conquer our army,

the rules of civilized warfare would be of no account to them, I am

thinking;" suggested Mr. Reed. "It behooves us to keep out of their

clutches, or die in the attempt."

The cruelty of British officers to prisoners was the subject of frequent

discussion between Washington and his advisers, and finally he wrote to

General Gage as follows:

"I understand that the officers engaged in the cause of liberty and

their country, who, by the fortune of war have fallen into your hands,

have been thrown indiscriminately into a common jail, appropriated to

felons; that no consideration has been had for those of the most

respectable rank, when languishing with wounds and sickness, and that

some have been amputated in this unworthy situation.... The obligations

arising from the rights of humanity and claims of rank are universally

binding and extensive, except in case of retaliation. These, I should

have hoped, would have dictated a more tender treatment of those

individuals whom chance or war had put in your power.... My duty now

makes it necessary to apprise you that, for the future, I shall regulate

all my conduct towards those gentlemen who are, or may be, in our

possession, exactly by the rule you shall observe toward those of ours

now in your custody.

"If severity and hardships mark the line of your conduct, painful as it

may be to me, your prisoners will feel its effects. But if kindness and

humanity are shown to us, I shall with pleasure consider those in our

hands only as unfortunate, and they shall receive from me that treatment

to which the unfortunate are ever entitled."

The reply of General Gage was characteristic of a conceited, ambitious,

and domineering officer of the king, and Washington closed his reply to

it with these words:

"I shall now, sir, close my correspondence with you, perhaps forever. If

your officers, our prisoners, receive a treatment from me different from

that which I wished to show them, they and you will remember the

occasion of it."

Subsequently, Washington ordered British officers at Watertown and Cape

Ann, who were at large on parole, to be confined in the jail at

Northampton, explaining to them that it was not agreeable to his

feelings of humanity, but according to the treatment of Americans whom

the officers of the crown held as prisoners. But he could not tolerate

even this mild form of retaliation, and therefore in a short time he

revoked the order, and the prisoners were at large again.

"I was never more distressed in mind than I am now," remarked Washington

to a member of his staff.

"Why so?"

From Farm House to the White House The life of George Washington, his boyhood, youth, manhood, public and private life and services · 第 19 / 30 段