LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF .CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WAR OF THE INDEPENDENCE 
 
 - 
 
 * 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 BY CHARLES BOTTA. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 TRANSLATED tfROM THE ITALIAN, 
 
 BY GEORGE ALEXANDER OTIS. ESQ. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. IN TWO VOLUMES, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY H^RISON GRAY. 
 
 William L. Lewis, Printer. 
 
 1826. 
 
DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, to wit . 
 
 District Clerk's Office. 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the sixth day of March, A.D. 1826, in the fiftieth year 
 of the Independence of the United States of America, GEORGE ALEXANDER OTIS, ESQ. 
 of the said district, has deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he 
 claims as proprietor, in -the words following, to wit : 
 
 ' History of the War of the Independence of the United States of America. By Charles 
 Botta. Vol. I. Translated from the Italian, by George Alexander Otis, Esq. Second edi- 
 tion, in two volumes, revised and corrected.' 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, ' An act for the 
 encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the 
 authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned,' and also to 
 an act entitled, ' An act supplementary to an act entitled, an act for the encouragement 
 of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and pro- 
 prietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned,' and extending the benefits 
 thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints. 
 
 JNO. W. DAVIS, 
 
 Clerk of the District of Massachusetts 
 
NOTICE OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 There will be found, in the course of this history, several 
 discourses of a certain length. Those I have put in the 
 mouth of the different speakers have really been pro- 
 nounced by them, and upon those very occasions which 
 are treated of in the work. I should, however, mention 
 that I have sometimes made a single orator say what has 
 been said in substance by others of the same party. Some- 
 times, also, but rarely, using the liberty granted in all 
 times to historians, I have ventured to add a small num- 
 ber of phrases, which appeared to me to coincide perfectly 
 with the sense of the orator, and proper to enforce his 
 opinion ; this has happened especially in the two dis- 
 courses pronounced before Congress, for and against 
 independence, by Richard Henry Lee, and John Dickin- 
 son. 
 
 It will not escape attentive readers, that in some of 
 these discourses are found predictions which time has 
 accomplished. I affirm that these remarkable passages 
 belong entirely to the authors cited. In order that these 
 might not resemble those of the poets, always made after 
 the fact, I have been so scrupulous as to translate them, 
 word for word, from the original language. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S NOTICE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 The translator of this history, in laying before his fel- 
 low-citizens a second edition of it, would offer them his 
 sincere acknowledgments for their favorable reception of 
 the first ; a reception the more gratifying, as, notwithstand- 
 ing his own high value of the work, it surpassed his most 
 sanguine expectations. It evidently appeared that Botta, 
 like all his great predecessors in the march of immortality, 
 was greeted with the most enthusiasm and admiration by 
 those who were, doubtless, the most conscious of being 
 his fellow-travellers on the road to posterity. How warmly 
 was he welcomed by the surviving patriots who had distin- 
 guished themselves the most eminently in the great 
 scenes he describes ! The venerable John Adams, on 
 receiving the second volume of the translation, expressed 
 himself in the words following ; ' I unite with many other 
 gentlemen in the opinion that the work has great merit, 
 has raised a monument to your name, and performed a 
 valuable service to your country. If it should not have a 
 rapid sale at first, it will be, in the language of book- 
 sellers, good stock, and will be in demand as long as the 
 American Revolution is an object of curiosity. It is indeed 
 the most classical and methodical, the most particular and 
 circumstantial, the most entertaining and interesting nar- 
 ration of the American War, that I have seen.' In like 
 manner, the hand that penned the Declaration of Ameri- 
 can Independence, en receiving the first volume of the 
 translation, having already for some years been possessed 
 of the original, addressed the translator the words of 
 encouragement which are here set down. * I am glad to 
 
TO THE READER. V 
 
 find that the excellent history of Botta is at length trans- 
 lated. The merit of this work has been too long unknown 
 with us. He has had the faculty of sifting the truth of 
 facts from our own histories with great judgment, of sup- 
 pressing details which do not make a part of the general 
 history, and of enlivening the whole with the constant 
 glow of his holy enthusiasm for the liberty and independ- 
 ence of nations. Neutral, as an historian should be, in 
 the relation of facts, he is never neutral in his feelings, 
 nor in the warm expression of them, on the triumphs and 
 reverses of the conflicting parties, and of his honest sym- 
 pathies with that engaged in the better cause. Another 
 merit is in the accuracy of his narrative of those portions 
 of the same war which passed in other quarters of the 
 globe, and especially on the ocean. We must thank him, 
 too, for having brought within the compass of three 
 volumes every thing we wish to know of that war, and in 
 a style so engaging, that we cannot lay the book down. 
 He had been so kind as to send me a copy of his work, 
 of which I shall manifest my acknowledgment by sending 
 him your volumes, as they come out. My original being 
 lent out, I have no means of collating it with the transla- 
 tion ; but see no cause to doubt correctness.' On receipt 
 of the second volume of the translation, Mr. Jefferson 
 renews his eulogies of the history, in the expressions 
 which follow ; ' I join Mr. Adams, heartily, in good 
 wishes for the success of your labors, and hope they will 
 bring you both profit and fame. You have certainly ren- 
 dered a good service to your country; and when the 
 superiority of the work over every other on the same sub- 
 ject shall be more known, I think it will be the common 
 manual of our Revolutionary History.' Mr. Madison is 
 no less decisive in his approbation of the undertaking. 
 He writes the translator on receiving his first volume ; 
 
VI TO THE READER. 
 
 < The literary reputation of this author, with the philosophic 
 spirit and classic taste allowed to this historical work, 
 justly recommended the task in which you are engaged, 
 of placing a translation of it before American readers; to 
 whom the subject must always be deeply interesting, and 
 who cannot but feel a curiosity to see the picture of it as 
 presented to Europe by so able a hand. The author seems 
 to have the merit of adding to his other qualifications much 
 industry and care in his researches into the best sources 
 of information, and it may readily be supposed that he did 
 not fail to make the most of his access to those in France, 
 not yet generally laid open?' &c. Thus cotemporary 
 witnesses, and the most prominent actors in some of the 
 principal events recorded in these volumes, have 
 authorised and sanctioned the unexpected indulgence 
 with which they were received by the American people. 
 Grateful for such high approbation, and content with 
 having been the first to present his countrymen, at his 
 own peril, with however imperfect a copy of so inimitable 
 an original, the translator will always be happy to con- 
 gratulate 'them on the appearance of a better. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 
 SUMMARY. Opinions, manners, customs, and inclinations of the inhabitants of the 
 English colonies in America. Mildness of the British government towards its colonists. 
 Seeds of-discontent between the two people. Plan of colonial government proposed by 
 the colonists. Other motives of discontent in America. Justification of ministers. Designs 
 and instigations of the French. All the states of Europe desire to reduce the power of 
 England. New subjects of complaint. Stamp duty projected by the ministers and pro- 
 posed to parliament. The Americans are alarmed at it, and make remonstrances. Long 
 and violent debates between the advocates of the stamp act and the opposition. The 
 stamp act passes in parliament. 
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 
 SUMMARY. Troubles in America on account of the stamp duty. Violent tumult at 
 Boston. Movements in other parts of America. League of citizens desirous of a new 
 order of things. New doctrines relative to political authority. American associations 
 against English commerce. Admirable constancy of the colonists. General Congress 
 of New York and its operations. Effects produced in England by the news of the tumults 
 in America. Change of ministers. The new ministry favorable to the Americans. They 
 propose to parliament the repeal of the stamp act. Doctor Franklin is interrogated by th 
 parliament. Discourse of George Grenville in favor of the tax. Answer of William Pitt. 
 The stamp act is revoked. Joy manifested in England on this occasion. The news is 
 transmitted with all despatch to America. 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 SUMMARY. Extreme joy of the colonists on hearing of the repeal of the stamp act. 
 Causes of new discontents. Deliberations of the government on the subject of the oppo- 
 sition of the Americans. Change of ministry. The new ministers propose to parliament, 
 and carry, a bill imposing a duty upon tea, paper, glass, and painters' colors. This duty 
 is accompanied by other measures, which sow distrust in the colonies. New disturbances 
 and new associations in America. The royal troops enter Boston. Tumult, with effu- 
 sion of blood, in Boston. Admirable judicial decision in the midst of so great commo- 
 tion. Condesccndence of the English government; it suppresses the taxes, with the ex- 
 ception of that on tea. The Americans manifest no greater submission in consequence. 
 The government adopts measures of rigor.i The Americans break out on their part ; 
 they form leagues of resistance. The Bostonians throw tea overboard. The ministers 
 adopt rigorous counsels. Violent agitations in America. Events which result from them. 
 New confederations. All the provinces determine to hold a general Congress at Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Confidence of the Americans in the general Congress. Dispositions of 
 minds in Europe, and particularly in France, towards the Americans. Deliberations of 
 Congress. Approved by the provinces. Indifference of minds in England relative to 
 the quarrel with America. Parliament convoked. The ministers will have the inhabitants 
 of Massachusetts declared rebels. Oration of Wilkes against this proposition. Oration 
 of Harvey in support of it. The ministers carry it. They send troops to America. They 
 accompany the measures of rigor with a proposition of arrangement, and a promise of 
 amnesty. Edmund Burke proposes to the parliament another plan of reconciliation ; 
 which does not obtain. Principal reason why the ministers will hearken to no proposi- 
 tion of accommodation. Fury of the Americans on learning that the inhabitants of 
 Massachusetts have been declared rebels. Every thing, in America, takes the direction 
 of war. Battle of Lexington. Siege of Boston. Unanimous resolution of the Americans 
 to take arms and enter the field. 
 
Viii TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK FIFTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Situation of Boston. State of the two armies. The provinces make prepa- 
 rations for war. Taking of Ticonderoga. Siege of Boston. Battle of Breed's Hill. 
 New Congress in Philadelphia. George Washington elected captain-general. Repairs 
 to the camp of Boston. The Congress make new regulations for the army. Eulogy of 
 doctor Warren. The Congress take up the subject of finances. Endeavor to secure the 
 Indians. Their manifesto. Religious solemnities to move the people. Address of the 
 Congress to the British nation. Another to the king. Another to the Irish people. 
 Letter to the Canadians. Events in Canada. Resolutions of Congress relative to the 
 conciliatory proposition of lord North. Articles of union between the provinces proposed 
 by the Congress. The royal governors oppose the designs of the popular governors. 
 Serious altercations which result from it. Massachusetts begins to labor for independ- 
 ence. The other provinces discover repugnance to imitate the example. Military ope- 
 rations near Boston. Painful embarrassments in which Washington finds himself. Gene- 
 ral Gage succeeded by sir William Howe, in the chief command of the English troops. 
 Boldness of the Americans upon the sea. Difficulties experienced by Howe. Invasion 
 of Canada. Magnanimity of Montgomery. Montreal taken. Surprising enterprise 
 executed by Arnold. Assault of Quebec. Death of Montgomery. 
 
 BOOK SIXTH. 
 
 SUMMARY State of parties in England. Discontent of the people. The ministers 
 take Germans into the pay of England. Parliament convoked. Designs of France. King's 
 speech at the opening of parliament. Occasions violent debates. The ministers carry 
 their Address. Commissioners appointed with power of pardon. Siege of Boston. The 
 English are forced to evacuate it. New disturbances in North Carolina. Success of the 
 American marine. War of Canada. Praises of Montgomery. Designs of the English 
 against South Carolina. They furiously attack fort Moultrie. Strange situation of the 
 American colonies. Independence every day gains new partisans ; and wherefore. The 
 Congress propose to declare Independence. Speech of Richard Henry Lee in favor of 
 the proposition. Speech of John Dickinson on the other side. The Congress proclaim 
 Independence. Exultation of the people. 
 
 BOOK SEVENTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Immense preparations of the British for the reduction of America. Con- 
 ferences for an arrangement. The Americans lose the battle of Brooklyn. New con- 
 ferences. The troops of the king take possession of New York. Forts Washington and 
 Lee fall into their power. The English victoriously overrun New Jersey. Danger of 
 Philadelphia. The royal army pause at the Delaware. General Lee is made prisoner. 
 War with the Indians. Campaign of Canada. Firmness of Washington and of Congress 
 in adverse fortune ; a.nd their deliberations to reestablish it. Dictatorial power granted 
 to Washington ; in what manner he uses it. Overtures of Congress to the court of France. 
 Franklin sent thither. His character. The fortune of America regains at Trenton. Pru- 
 dence and intrepidity of Washington. Howe, after various movements, abandons New 
 Jersey. Embarks at New York to carry the war into another part. 
 
HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR 
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 
 AMERICA, and especially some parts of it, having been discover- 
 ed by the genius and intrepidity of Italians, received, at various 
 times, as into a place of asylum, the men whom political or religious 
 disturbances had driven from their own countries in Europe. . The 
 security which these distant and desert regions presented to their 
 minds, appeared to them preferable even to the endearments of coun- 
 try and of their natal air. 
 
 Here they exerted themselves with admirable industry and forti- 
 tude, according to the custom of thos$ whom the fervor of opinion 
 agitates and stimulates, in subduing the wild beasts, dispersing or 
 destroying pernicious or importunate animals, repressing or subject- 
 ing the barbarous and savage nations that inhabited this New World, 
 draining the marshes, controlling the course of rivers, clearing the 
 forests, furrowing a virgin soil, and committing to its bosom new and 
 unaccustomed seeds ; and thus prepared themselves a climate less 
 rude and hostile to human nature, more secure and more commo- 
 dious habitations, more salubrious food, and a part of the conve- 
 niences and enjoyments proper to civilised life. 
 
 This multitude of emigrants, departing principally from England, 
 in the time of the last Stuarts, landed in that part of North America 
 which extends from the thirty-second to the forty-fifth degree of 
 north latitude ; and there founded the colonies of New Hampshire, 
 Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island, which took the general 
 name of New England. To these colonies were afterwards joined 
 those of Virginia, New York, Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey, 
 Maryland, the two Carolinas, and Georgia. Nor must it be under- 
 stood, that in departing from the land in which they were born, to 
 seek in foreign regions a better condition of life, they abandoned their 
 country on terms of enmity, dissolving every tie of early attachment. 
 
 VOL. T. 2 
 
10 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 Far from this, besides the customs, the habits, the usages and man- 
 ners of their common country, they took with them privileges, granted 
 by the royal authority, whereby their laws were constituted upon the 
 model of those of England, and more or less conformed to a free 
 government, or to a more absolute system, according to the charac- 
 ter or authority of the prince from whom they emanated. They 
 were also modified by the influence which the people, by means of 
 their organ, the parliament, were found to possess. For, it then 
 being the epoch of those civil and religious dissensions which caused 
 English blood to flow in torrents, the changes were extreme and 
 rapid. Each province, each colony, had an elective assembly, which, 
 under certain limitations, was invested with the authority of parlia- 
 ment ; and a governor, who, representing the king to the eyes of the 
 colonists, exercised also a certain portioji of his power. To this 
 was added the trial, which is called by jury, not only in criminal 
 matters, but also in civil causes; an institution highly important, and 
 corresponding entirely with the judicial system of England. 
 
 But, in point of religion, the colonists enjoyed even greater latitude 
 than in their parent country itself: they had not preserved that 
 ecclesiastical hierarchy, against which they had combated so strenu- 
 ously, and which they did not cease to abhor, as the primary cause 
 of the long and perilous expatriation to which they had been con- 
 strained to resort. 
 
 It can, therefore, excite no surprise, if this generation of men not 
 only had their minds imbued with the principles that form the basis 
 of the English constitution, but even if they aspired to a mode of 
 government less rigid, and a liberty more entire ; in a word, if they 
 were, inflamed with the fervor which is naturally kindled in the hearts 
 of men by obstacles which oppose their religious and political opi- 
 nions, and still increased by the privations and persecutions they have 
 suffered on their account. And how should this ardor, this excite- 
 ment of exasperated minds, have been appeased in the vast solitudes 
 of America, where the amusements of Europe were unknown, where 
 assiduity in manual toils must have hardened their bodies, and in- 
 creased the asperity of their characters ? If in England ibey had 
 shown themselves averse to the prerogative of the crown, how, as 
 to this, should their opinions have been changed in America, where 
 scarcely a vestige was seen of the royal authority and splendor ? 
 where the same occupation being common to all, that of cultivating the 
 earth, must have created in all the opinion and the love of a general 
 equality ? They had encountered exile, at the epoch when the war 
 raged most fiercely in their native country, between the king and the 
 people ; at the epoch when the armed subjects contended for the 
 right of resisting the will of the prince, when he usurps their liberty ; 
 and even, if the public good require it, of transferring the crown 
 from one head to another. The colonists had supported these 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 11 
 
 principles ; and how should they have renounced them f They who, 
 out of the reach of royal authority, and, though still in the infancy 
 of a scarcely yet organised society, enjoyed already, in their new 
 country, a peaceful and happy life ?' The laws observed, justice 
 administered, the magistrates respected, offences rare or unknown ; 
 persons, property and honor, protected from all violation ? 
 
 They believed it the unalienable right of every English subject, 
 whether freeman or freeholder, not to give his property without his 
 own consent ; that the house of commons only, as the representative 
 of the English people, had the right to grant its money to the crown ; 
 that taxes are free gifts of the people to those who govern ; and that 
 princes are bound to exercise their authority, and employ the public 
 treasure, for the sole benefit and use of the community. ' These 
 privileges,' said the colonists, ' we have brought with us'; distance, 
 or change of climate, cannot have deprived us of English preroga- 
 tives ; we departed from the kingdom with the consent and under 
 the guarantee of the sovereign authority ; the right not to contribute 
 with our money without our own consent, has been solemnly recog- 
 nised by the government in the charters it has granted to many of 
 the colonies. It is for this purpose that assemblies or courts have 
 been established in each colony, and that they have been invested 
 with authority to investigate and superintend the employment of the 
 public money.' And how, in fact, should the colonists have relin- 
 quished such a right ; they who derived their subsistence from the 
 American soil, not given or granted by others, but acquired and 
 possessed by themselves ; which they had first occupied, and which 
 their toils had rendered productive? Every thing, on the contrary, 
 in English America, tended to favor and develop civil liberty; every 
 thing appeared to lead towards national independence. 
 
 The Americans, for the most part, were not only Protestants, but 
 Protestants against Protestantism itself, and sided with those who in 
 England are called Dissenters ; for, besides, as Protestants, not 
 acknowledging any authority in the affair of religion, whose decision, 
 without other examination, is a rule of faith, claiming to be of 
 themselves, by the light of natural reason alone, sufficient judges of 
 religious dogmas, they had rejected the ecclesiastical hierarchy, and 
 abolished even the names of its dignities ; they had, in short, divested 
 themselves of all that deference which man, by his nature, has for 
 the opinions of those who are constituted in eminent stations ; and 
 whose dignities, wealth and magnificence, seem to command respect 
 The intellects of the Americans being therefore perfectly free upon 
 this topic, they exercised the same liberty of thought upon other 
 subjects unconnected with religion, and especially upon the affairs of 
 government, which had been the habitual theme of their conversation, 
 during their residence in the mother country. The colonies, more 
 than any other country, abounded in lawyers, who, accustomed to 
 
12 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 the most subtle and the most captious arguments, are commonly, in 
 a country governed by an absolute prince, the most zealous advocates 
 of his power, and in a free country the most ardent defenders of 
 liberty. Thus had arisen, among the Americans, an almost universal 
 familiarity with those sophistical discussions which appertain to the 
 professions of theology and of law, the effect of which is often to 
 generate obstinacy and presumption in the human mind ; accordingly, 
 however long their disquisitions upon political and civil liberty, they 
 never seemed to think they had sifted these matters sufficiently. The 
 study of polite literature and the liberal arts having already madt a 
 remarkable progress in America, these discussions were adorned with 
 the graces of a florid elocution ; the charms of eloquence fascinated 
 and flattered on the one hand the defenders of bold opinions, as on 
 the other, they imparted to their discourses greater attraction, and 
 imprinted them more indelibly on the minds of their auditors. 
 
 The republican maxims became a common doctrine : and the 
 memory of the Puritans, and of those who in the sanguinary con- 
 tentions of England had supported the party of the people and pe- 
 rished for its cause, was immortalised. These were their apostles, 
 these their martyrs: their names, their virtues, their achievements, 
 their unhappy, but to the eyes of the colonists so honorable, death, 
 formed the continual subject of the conversations of children with 
 the authors of their days. 
 
 If, before the revolution, the portrait of the king was usually seen 
 in every house, it was not rare to observe near it the images of 
 those who, in the time of Charles T. sacrificed their lives in defence 
 of what they termed English liberties. It is impossible to express 
 with what exultation they had received the news of the victories of 
 the republicans in England ; with what grief they heard of the resto- 
 ration of the monarchy, in the person of Charles II. Thus their incli- 
 nations and principles were equally contrary to the government, and 
 to the church, which prevailed in Great Britain. Though naturally 
 reserved and circumspect, yet expressions frequently escaped them 
 which manifested a violent hatred for the political and religious 
 establishments of the mother country. Whoever courted popular 
 favor, gratified both himself and his hearers, by inveighing against 
 them ; the public hatred, on the contrary, was the portion of the 
 feeble party of the hierarchists, and such as favored England. All 
 things, particularly in New England, conspired to cherish the germs 
 of these propensities and opinions. The colonists had few books ; 
 but the greater part of those, which were in the hands of all, only 
 treated of political affairs, or transmitted the history of the persecu- 
 tions sustained by the Puritans, their ancestors. They found in these 
 narratives, tfiat, tormented in their ancient country on account of 
 their political and religious opinions, their ancestors had taken the 
 intrepid resolution of abandoning it, of traversing an immense ocean, 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 13 
 
 of flying to the most distant, the most inhospitable regions, in order 
 to preserve the liberty of professing openly these cherished principles ; 
 and that, to accomplish so generous a design, they had sacrificed all 
 the accommodations and delights of the happy country where they 
 had received birth and education. And what toils, what fatigues, 
 what perils, had they not encountered, upon these unknown and 
 savage shores ? All had opposed them ; their bodies had not been 
 accustomed to the extremes of cold in winter, and of heat in sum- 
 mer, both intolerable in the climate of America ; the land chiefly 
 covered with forests, and little of it habitable, the soil reluctant, the 
 air pestilential; an untimely death had carried off most of the first 
 founders of the colony : those who had resisted the climate, and 
 survived the famine, to secure their infant establishment, had been 
 forced to combat the natives, a ferocious race, and become still more 
 ferocious at seeing a foreign people, even whose existence they had 
 never heard of, come to appropriate the country of which they had 
 so long been the sole occupants and masters. The colonists, by their 
 fortitude, and courage, had gradually surmounted all these obstacles ; 
 which result, if on the one hand it secured them greater tranquillity, 
 and improved their condition, on the other it gave them a better 
 opinion of themselves, and inspired them with an elevation of senti- 
 ments, not often paralleled. 
 
 As the prosperous or adverse events which men have shared to- 
 gether, and the recollections which attend them, have a singular 
 tendency to unite their minds, their affections and their sympathies ; 
 the Americans were united not only by the ties which reciprocally 
 attach individuals of the same nation, from the identity of language, 
 of laws, of climate, and of customs, but also by those which result 
 from a common participation in all the vicissitudes to which a people is 
 liable. They offered to the world an image of those congregations 
 of men, subject not only to the general laws of the society of which 
 they are members, but also to particular statutes and regulations, to 
 which they have voluntarily subscribed, and which usually produce, 
 besides an uniformity of opinions, a common zeal and enthusiasm. 
 
 It should not be omitted, that even the, composition of society in 
 the English colonies, rendered the inhabitants averse to every spe- 
 cies of superiority, and inclined them to liberty. Here was but one 
 class of men ; the mediocrity of their condition tempted not the rich 
 and the powerful of Europe, to visit their shores ; opulence, and 
 hereditary honors, were unknown amongst them ; whence no vestige 
 remained of feudal servitude. From these causes resulted a general 
 opinion that all men are by nature equal ; and the inhabitants of 
 America would have found it difficult to persuade themselves that 
 they owed their lands and their civil rights to the munificence of 
 princes. Few among them, had heard mention of Magna Charta ; 
 and those who were not ignorant of the history of that important 
 
14 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 period of the English revolution, in which this compact was con- 
 firmed, considered it rather a solemn recognition, by the king of 
 England, of the rights of the people, than any concession. As they 
 referred to heaven the protection which had conducted them through 
 so many perils, to a land, where at length they had found that 
 repose which in their ancient country they had sought in vain ; and 
 as they owed to its beneficence the harvests of their exuberant fields, 
 the only and the genuine so'urce of their riches; so not from the 
 concessions of the king of Great Britain, but from the bounty and 
 infinite clemency of the King of the universe, did they derive every 
 right ; these opinions, in the minds of a religious and thoughtful peo- 
 plej were likely to have deep and tenacious roots. 
 
 From the vast extent of the provinces occupied, and the abundance 
 of vacant lands, every colonist was, or easily might have become, 
 at the same time, a proprietor, farmer, and laborer. 
 
 Finding all his enjoyments in rural life, he saw spring up, grow, 
 prosper, and arrive at maturity, under his own eyes, and often by the 
 labor of his own hands, all things necessary to the life of man ; he 
 felt himself free from all subjection, from all dependence ; and 
 individual liberty is a powerful incentive to civil independence. 
 Each might hunt, fowl and fish, at his pleasure, without fear of 
 possible injury to others ; poachers were consequently unknown in 
 America. Their parks and reservoirs were boundless forests, vast 
 and numerous lakes, immense rivers, and a sea unrestricted, inex- 
 haustable in fish of every species. As they lived dispersed in the 
 country, mutual affection was increased between the members of the 
 same family, and finding happiness in the domestic circle, they had 
 no temptation to seek diversion in the resorts of idleness, where 
 men too often contract the vices which terminate in dependence and 
 habits of servility. 
 
 The greater part of the colonists, being proprietors and cultivators 
 of land, lived continually upon their farms; merchants, artificers, and 
 mechanics,, composed scarcely a fifth part of the total population. 
 Cultivators of the earth depend only on Providence and their own 
 industry, while the artisan, pn the contrary, to render himself agree- 
 able to the consumers, is obliged to pay a certain deference to their 
 caprices. It resulted, from the great superiority of the first class, 
 that the colonies abounded in men of independent minds, who, know- 
 ing no insurmountable obstacles but those presented by the very 
 nature of things, could not fail to resent with animation, and oppose 
 with indignant energy, every curb which human authority might 
 attempt to impose. 
 
 The inhabitants of the colonies were exempt, and almost out of 
 danger, from ministerial seductions, the seat of government being at 
 such a distance, that far from having proved, they had never even 
 heard of, its secret baits. 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 15 
 
 It was not therefore customary among them to corrupt, and be 
 corrupted : the offices were few, and so little lucrative, that they 
 were far from supplying the means of corruption to those who were 
 invested with them. 
 
 The love of the sovereign, and their ancient country, which the 
 first colonists might have retained in their new establishment, gra- 
 dually diminished in the hearts of their descendants, as successive 
 generations removed them further from their original stock ; and 
 when the revolution commenced, of which we purpose to write the 
 history, the inhabitants of the English colonies were, in general, but 
 the third, fourth, and even the fifth generation from the original 
 colonists, who had left England to establish themselves in the new 
 regions of America. At such a distance, the affections of consan- 
 guinity became feeble, or extinct ; and the remembrance of their 
 ancestors lived more in their memories, than in their hearts. 
 
 Commerce, which has power to unite and conciliate a sort of 
 friendship between the inhabitants of the most dista-nt countries, was 
 not, in the early periods of the colonies, so active as to produce 
 these effects between the inhabitants of England and America. The 
 greater part of the colonists had heard nothing of Great Britain, ex- 
 cepting that it was a distant kingdom, from which their ancestors 
 had been barbarously expelled, or hunted away, as they had been 
 forced to take refuge in the deserts and forests of wild America, in- 
 habited only by savage men, and prowling beasts, or venomous and 
 horrible serpents. 
 
 The distance of government diminishes its force ; either because, 
 in the absence of the splendor and magnificence of fhe throne, men 
 yield obedience only to its power, unsupported by the influence of 
 illusion and respect ; or, because the agents of authority in distant 
 countries, exercising a larger discretion in the execution of the laws, 
 inspire the people governed with greater hope of being able to es- 
 cape their restraints. 
 
 What idea must we then form of the force which the British go- 
 vernment could exercise in the new world, when it is considered, 
 that the two countries being separated by an ocean three thousand 
 miles in breadth, entire months sometimes transpired, between the 
 date of an order, and its execution ? 
 
 Let it be added, also, that except in cases of war, standing armies, 
 this powerful engine of coercion, were very feeble in England, and 
 much more feeble still in America ; their existence even was contrary 
 to law. 
 
 It follows, of necessity, that, as the means of constraint became 
 almost illusory in the hands of the government, there must have 
 arisen, and gradually increased, in the minds of the Americans, the 
 hope, and with it the desire, to shake off the yoke of English supe- 
 riority. 
 
16 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 All these considerations apply, especially, to the condition of the 
 eastern provinces of English America. As to the provinces of the 
 south, the land being there more fertile, and the colonists conse- 
 quently enjoying greater affluence, they could pretend to a more 
 ample liberty, and discover less deference for opinions which differed 
 from their own. Nor should it be imagined, that the happy fate 
 they enjoyed, had enervated their minds, or impaired their courage. 
 Living continually on their plantations, far from the luxury and se- 
 ductions of cities, frugal and moderate in all their desires, it is cer- 
 tain, on the contrary, that the great abundance of things necessary 
 to life rendered *their bodies more vigorous, and their minds more 
 impatient of all subjection. 
 
 In these provinces also, the slavery of the blacks, which was in 
 use, seemed, however strange the assertion may appear, to have in- 
 creased the love of liberty among the white population. Having 
 continually before their eyes, the living picture of the miserable con- 
 dition of man reduced to slavery, they could better appreciate the 
 liberty they enjoyed. This liberty they considered not merely as a 
 right, but as a franchise and privilege. As it is usual for men, when 
 their own interests and passions are concerned, to judge partially and 
 inconsiderately, the colonists supported impatiently the superiority of 
 the British government. They considered its pretensions as tending 
 to reduce them to a state little different from that of their own slaves ; 
 thus detesting, for themselves, what they found convenient to exer- 
 cise upon others. 
 
 The inhabitants of the colonies, especially those of New England, 
 enjoyed not only the shadow,' but the substance itself, of the English 
 constitution ; for in this respect, little was wanting to their entire 
 independence. They elected their own magistrates ; they paid 
 them ; and decided all affairs relative to internal administration. 
 The sole evidence of their dependence on the mother country, con- 
 sisted in this : that they could not enact laws or statutes, contrary to 
 the letter or spirit of the English laws ; that the king had the pre- 
 rogative to annul the deliberations of their assemblies; and that they 
 were subject to such regulations and restrictions of commerce, as the 
 parliament should judge necessary and conducive to the general 
 good of the British empire. This dependence, however, was rather 
 nominal than actual, for the king very rarely refused his sanction ; 
 and as to commercial restrictions, they knew how to elude them 
 dexterously, by a contraband traffic. 
 
 The provincial assemblies were perfectly free, and more perhaps 
 than the parliament of England itself; the ministers not being there, 
 to diffuse corruption daily. The democratic ardor was under no 
 restraint, or little less than none ; for the governors who intervened, 
 in the name of the king, had too little credit to control it, as they 
 received their salaries, not from the crown, but from the province 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 17 
 
 itself; and in some, they were elected by the suffrages of the inha- 
 bitants. The religious zeal, or rather enthusiasm, which prevailed 
 among the colonists, and chiefly among the inhabitants of New Eng- 
 land, maintained the purity of their manners. Frugality, tempe- 
 rance, and chastity, were virtues peculiar to this people. There" 
 were no examples, among them, of wives devoted to luxury, hus- 
 bands to debauch, and children to the haunts of pleasure. The 
 ministers of a severe religion were respected and revered ; for they 
 gave themselves the example of the virtues they preached. Their 
 time was divided between rural occupations, domestic parties, pray- 
 ers, and thanksgivings, addressed to that God by whose bounty the 
 seasons were made propitious, and the earth to smile on their labors 
 with beauty and abundance, and who showered upon them so many 
 blessings and so many treasures. If we add, further, that the inha- 
 bitants of New England, having surmounted the first obstacles, found 
 themselves in a productive and healthful country, it will cease to as- 
 tonish, that, in the course of a century, the population of the Ame- 
 rican colonies should have so increased, that from a few destitute 
 families, thrown by misfortune upon this distant shore, should have 
 sprung a great and powerful nation. 
 
 Another consideration presents itself here. The fathers of families, 
 in America, were totally exempt from that anxiety, which in Europe 
 torments them incessantly, concerning the subsistence and future es- 
 tablishment of their offspring. In the new world, the increase of 
 families, however restricted their means, was not deemed a mis- 
 fortune : on the contrary, it was not only for the father, but for all 
 about him, that the birth of a son was a joyful event. In this im- 
 mensity of uncultivated lands, the infant, when arrived at the age of 
 labor, was assured of finding a resource for himself, and even the 
 means of aiding his parents ; thus, the more numerous were the chil- 
 dren, the greater competence and ease were secured to the household. 
 
 It is therefore evident, that in America, the climate, the soil, the 
 civil and religious institutions, even the interest of families, all con- 
 curred to people it with robust and virtuous fathers, with swarms of 
 vigorous and spirited sons. 
 
 Industry, a spirit of enterprise, and an extreme love of gain, are 
 characteristic qualities of those who are separated from other men, 
 and can expect no support but from themselves ; and the colonists 
 being descended from a nation distinguished for its boldness and ac- 
 tivity in the prosecution of traffic, it is easily conceived that the in- 
 crease of commerce was in proportion to that of population. Po- 
 sitive facts confirm this assertion. In 1704, the sum total of the 
 commercial exports of Great Britain, inclusive of the merchandise 
 destined for her colonies, had been six millions five hundred and nine 
 thousand pounds sterling ; but from this year to 1772, these colonies 
 had so increased in population and prosperity, that at this epoch 
 VOL. i. 3 
 
18 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I, 
 
 they of themselves imported from England to the value of six mil- 
 lions twenty-two thousand one hundred and thirty-two pounds ster- 
 ling ; that is to say, that in the year 1772, the colonies alone furnish- 
 ed the mother country with a market for a quantity of merchandise 
 almost equal to that which, sixty-eight years before, sufficed for her 
 commerce with all parts of the world. 
 
 Such was the state of the English colonies in America, such the 
 opinions and dispositions of those who inhabited them, about the 
 middle of the eighteenth century. Powerful in numbers and in force, 
 abounding in riches of every kind, already far advanced in the career 
 of useful arts and of liberal studies, engaged in commerce with all 
 parts of the globe, it was impossible that they should have remained 
 ignorant of what they were capable, and that the progressive deve- 
 lopment of national pride should not have rendered the British yoke 
 more intolerable. 
 
 But this tendency towards a new order of things did not as yet 
 menace a general combustion ; and, without particular irritation, 
 would still have kept within the bounds which had already so long 
 sufficed to.restrain it. During a century, the British government had 
 prudently avoided to exasperate the minds of the colonists : with 
 parental solicitude, it had protected and encouraged them, when in a 
 state of infancy ; regulating, afterwards, by judicious laws, their 
 commerce with the mother country and with foreign nations, it had 
 conducted them to their present prosperous atid flourishing condi- 
 tion. In effect, in times immediately following the foundation of the 
 colonies, England, as a tender mother, who defends her own children, 
 had lent them the succour of her troops and her ships, against the 
 attacks of the savage tribes, and against the encroachments of other 
 powers; she granted immunities and privileges to Europeans who 
 were disposed to establish themselves in these new countries ; she 
 supplied her colonists, at the most moderate prices, with cloths, 
 stuffs, linens, and all necessary instruments as well for their defence 
 against enemies as for the exercise of useful professions in time of 
 peace, and especially such as were required for clearing the lands, 
 and the labors of agriculture. The English merchants also assist- 
 ed them with their rich capitals, in order to enable them to engage in 
 enterprises of great importance, such as the construction of ships, 
 the draining of marshes, the diking of rivers, the cutting of forests, 
 the establishing of new plantations, and other similar works.. 
 
 In exchange for so many advantages, and rather as a* necessary 
 consequence of the act of navigation, than as a fiscal restriction, and 
 peculiar to commerce, England only required the colonists to furnish 
 her with the things she*wanted, on condition of receiving in return 
 those in which she abounded, and of which they had need. The 
 Americans were therefore obliged to carry to the English all the 
 commodities and productions which their lands abundantly supplied, 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 19 
 
 and, besides, the fleeces of their flocks for the use of her manufac- 
 turers. It was also prohibited the colonists to purchase the manufac- 
 tures of any other part of the world except England, and to buy the 
 productions of lands appertaining to any European people whatever, 
 unless these productions had been first introduced into the English 
 ports. Such had been the constant scope and object of a great num- 
 ber of -acts of parliament, from 1660 down to 1764 ; in effect, esta- 
 blishing a real commercial monopoly, at the expense of the colonies, 
 and in favor of England : at which, however, the colonists discovered 
 no resentment; either because they received in compensation a real 
 prqtection on the part of the government, and numerous advantages 
 on that of individuals, or because they considered the weight of this 
 dependence as an equivalent for the taxes and assessments to which 
 the inhabitants of Great Britain were subjected, by laws emanating 
 from parliament. 
 
 In all this space of time, parliamentary taxes formed no part of the 
 colonial system of government. In truth, in all the laws relative to 
 the colonies, the expressions sanctioned by usage in the preambles 
 of financial statutes, to designate taxes or duties to be raised for the 
 use of government, were studiously avoided, and those only of free 
 gifts, of grants, and aids lent to the crown, were employed. The 
 parliament, it is true, had frequently imposed export duties upon 
 many articles of commerce in the colonies ; but these were consi- 
 dered rather as restrictions of commerce, than as branches of public 
 revenue. Thus, until the year 1764, the affair of taxation by 
 authority of parliament, slept in silence. England contented herself 
 with the exercise of her supremacy, in regulating the general inte- 
 rests of her colonies, and causing them to concur with those of all 
 the British empire. The Americans submitted to this system, if not 
 without some repugnance, at least with filial obedience. 
 
 It appears evident that, though they were not subjected to parlia- 
 mentary taxes, they were not useless subjects to the state, since they 
 contributed essentially, on the contrary, to the prosperity of the mo- 
 ther country. 
 
 It cannot be asserted, however, that ill humors were not agitated, 
 at intervals, between the people of the two countries, by attempts on 
 the one part to maintain and even extend the superiority, and on the 
 other to advance towards independence. A year after the peace of 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, (1749,) a grant was made, near the river Ohio, of 
 six hundred thousand acres of excellent land, to some merchants, 
 whose association was called the Ohio Company. The governor of 
 Canada, at that time a province of France, having had intelligence 
 of this establishment, was apprehensive-the English had the intention 
 of interrupting the commerce of the Canadians with the Indians, call- 
 ed Tuigtuis, and of intercepting the direct communication between 
 Canada and Louisiana. He therefore wrote to the governors of New 
 
20 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 York and of Pennsylvania, to express his surprise that the English 
 merchants had violated the French territory, in order to trade with 
 the Indians : he threatened that he would cause them to be seized, 
 wherever he could find them. This traffic, however, not having 
 been discontinued, detachments of French and Indians made prison- 
 ers of the English traders, at the commencement of the year 1751. 
 
 The Indians friendly to England, indignant at the outrage their 
 confederates had sustained, assembled, and, scouring the forests, fell 
 upon the French traders, whom they transported to Philadelphia. 
 ,Not content with this vengeance, the inhabitants of Virginia despatch- 
 ed to M. de Saint Pierre, commanding, for the king of France, a 
 fort, situated upon the Ohio, major Washington, the same who com- 
 manded afterwards the American armies, with orders to demand an 
 explanation of these acts of hostility, and summon him to draw off 
 his troops. Saint Pierre answered, that he could not comply with 
 the demands of the English ; that the country appertained to the 
 king of France, his master ; that the English had no right to traffic 
 upon those rivers ; that, consequently, in execution of the orders he 
 had received, he should cause to be seized and conducted to Cana- 
 da, every Englishman who should attempt to trade upon the river 
 Ohio, and its dependencies. 
 
 This proceeding of the French greatly incensed the ministers of- 
 Great Britain ; they could not endure to see their friends and con- 
 federates oppressed. Their resolution was soon taken ; they de- 
 spatched instructions to America, that resistance should be made, 
 by force of arms, to the usurpations of the French. This or4er 
 arrived seasonably in Virginia ; hostilities immediately followed, and 
 blood flowed on both sides. 
 
 The Board, which in England superintends especially the interests 
 of commerce and the plantations, perceiving that the colonists, divid- 
 ed among themselves, could not resist, without delay and disadvan- 
 tage, the enterprises of an audacious and determined people, sup- 
 ported by -a great number of Indians, recommended to the different 
 provinces to choose deputies, to convene for the purpose of forming 
 a general confederation, and a formal alliance with the Indians, in the 
 name and under the protection of his Britannic majesty. It was 
 agreed that the assembly of the governors and chief merv of each 
 colony should be convened at Albany, situated upon the Hudson 
 river. This convention, after having conciliated the affection of the 
 Indians of the Six Tribes, by suitable presents, proceeded to deli- 
 berate upon the most expedient means of defending themselves and 
 their effects from the attacks of the enemy. 
 
 They came to the resolution, that it was of urgent importance to 
 unite all the colonies, by a general league. The conditions of it 
 were concluded on the 4th of July, 1754. They purported, in sub- 
 stance, that a petition should be presented to parliament, to obtain 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 21 
 
 an act for the establishment of a general government in America ; 
 that, under this government, each colony should preserve its internal 
 constitution, with the exception of the changes introduced by the 
 same act ; that the general government should be administered by a 
 president-general, appointed arid paid by the crown, and by a grand 
 council, elected by the representatives of the people of the colonies ; 
 that the president-general should be invested with the right of nega- 
 tive over the acts of the grand council, and authorised to put them 
 in execution ; that with the advice of the grand council, he should 
 have authority to conclude, and carry into effect, any treaties with 
 the Indians, in which all the colonies should have a common interest, 
 as also to make peace with them, or to declare war against the 
 same ; and to take the measures he might judge suitable for regulat- 
 ing the traffic with these tribes ; that he should have power to pur- 
 chase of the Indians, and for account of the crown, lands, situated 
 without the territories of the particular colonies ; that he should have 
 authority to establish new colonies upon the acquired lands, and to 
 make laws for the regulation and government of these colonies ; that 
 he should have power to levy and pay troops, to construct fortresses, 
 and to equip a fleet for the defence of the coasts, and the protection 
 of commerce ; and also, in order to accomplish these purposes, that 
 he should have power to impose such duties, taxes, or excises, as he 
 might deem most convenient ; that he should appoint a treasurer- 
 general, and a 'particular treasurer for the provinces in which it 
 might be thought necessary ; that the president-general should haye 
 the right to appoint all officers of the service, by land or sea ; and 
 that the appointment of all civil officers should appertain to the grand 
 council ; and finally, that the laws passed by these two authorities 
 could not be contrary, but should even be conformable to the Eng- 
 lish laws, and transmitted to the king for approbation. 
 
 Such was the model of future government, proposed by the colo- 
 nies, and sent to England for determination. The Americans at- 
 tached great hopes to the success of their plan ; already every 
 appearance announced an open rupture with France, and the colo- 
 nists affirmed, that if the confederation was approved, they should 
 be quite able to defend themselves against the French arms, without 
 any other succour on the part of England. 
 
 It is not difficult to perceive how much an order of things, thus 
 constituted, would have impaired the authority of the British govern- 
 ment, and approached the colonies towards independence. By this 
 establishment, they would have obtained a local power, which would 
 have exercised all the rights appertaining to sovereignty, however 
 dependent it might appear to be on the mother country. But this 
 project was far from being agreeable to the English ministry, who 
 saw with a jealous eye, that the confederation proposed, furnished a 
 plausible pretext for a concert of intrigues in America, all tending to 
 
22 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 the prejudice of British sovereignty : and, therefore, notwithstanding 
 the imminent peril of a foreign war against a powerful enemy, the 
 articles of the confederation were not approved. 
 
 But the ministers of England were not disposed to let this occa- 
 sion escape them, of increasing, if it was possible, the authority of 
 the government in America, and especially that of imposing taxes ; 
 a thing most of all desired on the one side of the ocean, and detested 
 on the other. Instead, therefore, of the plan proposed by the 
 American-s, the ministers drew up another, which they addressed to 
 the 'governors of the colonies, to be offered by them to the colonial 
 assemblies. It was proposed by the ministers ; ' That the governors 
 of all the colonies, assisted by one or two members of the councils, 
 should assemble, to concert measures, for the organisation of a 
 general system of defence, to construct fortresses, to levy troops, 
 with authority to draw upon the British treasury for all sums that 
 might be requisite ; the treasure to be reimbursed by way of a tax, 
 which should be laid upon the colonies, by an act of parliament.' 
 
 The drift of this ministerial expedient is not difficult to be under- 
 stood, if it be considered that the governors, and members of the 
 council, were almost all appointed by the king. Accordingly, the 
 scheme had no success in America ; its motives were ably develop- 
 ed, in a letter of Benjamin Franklin to governor Shirley, who had 
 sent him the plan of the ministers. In this letter, the seeds of the 
 discord which followed soon after, begin to make their appearance.* 
 The general court of Massachusetts wrote to their agent in Lon- 
 don, to oppose every measure which should have for its object the 
 establishment of taxes in America, under any pretext of utility what- 
 ever. On the contrary, the governors, and particularly Shirley, in- 
 sisted continually, in their letters to the ministers, that the thing was 
 just, possible, and expedient. 
 
 These suspicions, this jealous inquietude, which agitated the 
 minds of the Americans, ever apprehensive of a parliamentary tax, 
 obtained with the more facility, as they found them already imbitter- 
 ed by ancient resentments. They had never been able to accustom 
 themselves to certain laws of parliament, which, though not tending 
 to impose contributions, yet greatly restricted the internal commerce 
 of the colonies, impeded their manufactures, or wounded, in a thou- 
 sand shapes, the self-love of the Americans, by treating them as if 
 they were not men of the same nature with the English, or as if, by 
 clipping the wings of American genius, it was intended to retain 
 them in a state of inferiority and degradation. Such was the act 
 prohibiting the felling of pitch and white pine trees, not compre- 
 hended within enclosures ; such was that which interdicted the ex- 
 portation from the colonies, and also the introduction from one colony 
 
 * See Note I. 
 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 23 
 
 into another, of hats, and woollens, of domestic manufacture, and 
 forbade hatters to have at one time, more than two apprentices ; also 
 that passed to facilitate the collection of debts in the colonies, by 
 which houses, lands, slaves, and other real effects, were made liable 
 for the payment of debts ; and finally, that which was passed in 1733, 
 at the instance of the sugar colonies, which prohibited the importa- 
 tion of sugar, rum, and molasses, from the French and Dutch colo- 
 nies in North America, without paying an exorbitant duty. To 
 these should be added another act of parliament, passed in 1750, 
 according to which, after the 24th of June of the same year, certain 
 works in iron could not be executed in the American colonies ; by a 
 clause of the same act, the manufacture of steel was forbidden. 
 Nor should we omit another, which regulated and restricted the bills 
 of credit issued by the government of New England, and by which 
 it was declared, that they should not have legal currency in the pay- 
 ment of debts, that English creditors might not be injured by the 
 necessity of receiving a depreciated paper, instead of money. This 
 regulation, though just, the Americans received with displeasure, as 
 tending to discredit their currency. Hence originated the first dis- 
 contents on the part of the colonists, and the first sentiments of dis- 
 trust on the part of the English. 
 
 At the same time, it was pretended, in England, that if the colo- 
 nists, on account of the commercial restrictions, so beneficial to the 
 mother country, had merely demanded to be treated with tenderness 
 and equity in the imposition of taxes, nothing would have been more 
 just and reasonable ; but that it could not be at all endured, that 
 they should refuse the European country every species of ulterior 
 succour ; that England, in reserving to herself the commerce of her 
 colonies, had acted according to the practice of all modern nations ; 
 that she had imitated the example of the Spaniards and of the Por- 
 tuguese, and that she had done so with a moderation unknown to the 
 governments of these nations. In founding these distant colonies, it 
 was said, England had caused them to participate in all the rights 
 and privileges that are enjoyed by English subjects themselves 
 in their own country ; leaving the colonists at liberty to govern them- 
 selves, according to such local laws as the wisdom and prudence of 
 their assemblies had deemed expedient ; in a word, she had granted 
 the colonies the most ample authority to pursue their respective in- 
 terests, only reserving to herself the benefit of their commerce, and 
 a political connexion under the same sovereign. The French and 
 Dutch colonies, and particularly those of Spain and Portugal, were 
 far from being treated with the same indulgence ; and also, notwith- 
 standing these restrictions, the subject of so much complaint, the 
 English colonies had immense capitals in their commerce, or in their 
 funds; for besides the rich cargoes of the products of their lands, 
 exported in British ships which came to trade in their ports, the 
 
24 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 Americans had their own ships, which served to transport with an 
 incredible profit, their productions and merchandise, not only to the 
 mother country, but also, thanks to her maternal indulgence, to al- 
 most all parts of the world, and to carry home the commodities and 
 luxuries of Europe, at will. And thus, in the English colonies, the 
 enormous prices at which European merchandise is sold in the 
 Spanish and Portuguese establishments, were not only unusual, but 
 absolutely unheard of ; it was even remarkable that many of these 
 articles were sold in the American colonies at the same, or even at 
 a lower price than in England itself. The restrictions imposed by 
 Great Britain upon the American commerce, tended rather to a just 
 and prudent distribution of this traffic, between all the parts of its 
 vast dominions, than to a real prohibition ; if English subjects were 
 allowed to trade in all parts of the world, the same permission was 
 granted to American subjects, with the exception of the north of 
 Europe, and the East Indies. In Portugal, in Spain, in Italy, in all 
 the Mediterranean, upon the coasts of Africa, in all the American 
 hemisphere, the ships of the English colonies might freely carry on 
 commerce. The English laws, for the protection of this commerce, 
 were wise and well conceived, since they were calculated to increase 
 the exportation of their own produce from the American ports, and 
 to facilitate, for the colonists, the means of clearing their forests and 
 cultivating their soil, by the certain vent of an immense quantity'of 
 timber, with which their country is covered. They could not, it 
 was admitted, procure themselves certain articles, except in the ports 
 of England ; but it was just to consider, that the American lands, 
 from their nature and vast extent, must offer sufficient occupation 
 both for the minds and the hands of the inhabitants, without its being 
 necessary that they should ramble abroad in search of gain, like the 
 inhabitants of other countries, already cultivated to perfection. 
 
 Besides, if England reserved to herself an exclusive commerce, 
 in certain kinds of merchandise, how did this concern, or how injure, 
 the Americans ? These objects appertaining for the most part to the 
 refined luxury of social life, in what country could they procure them in 
 greater perfection, or at a more moderate price, than in England f 
 The affection and liberality of the British government towards its 
 colonies, had gone so far, as not only to abstain from imposing duties 
 upon English manufactures destined for their ports, but even had 
 induced it to exempt foreign merchandise from all duties, when ex- 
 ported by England to America ; thus causing it to become so com- 
 mon in some colonies, as to be sold at a lower price than in certain 
 countries of Europe. 
 
 It should not be forgotten, that the most entire liberty was grant- 
 ed for the exchange of productions between North America and the 
 islands of the West Indies, a trade from which the English colonists 
 derived immense advantages. And in fact, notwithstanding the re- 
 
BOOK 1. THE AMERICAN WAR. 25 
 
 strictions laid upon the commerce of the Americans, did there not 
 remain amply sufficient to render them a rich, happy, and enterpris- 
 ing people ? Was not their prosperity known, and even envied, by 
 the whole world ? Assuredly, if there was any part of the globe 
 where man enjoyed a sweet and pleasant life, it was especially in 
 English America. Was not this an irrefragable proof, a striking ex- 
 ample, of the maternal indulgence of England towards her colonies ? 
 Let the Americans compare their condition with that of foreign co- 
 lonists, and they would soon confess, not without gratitude towards 
 the mother country, both their real felicity, and the Anility of their 
 complaints. 
 
 But all these and other considerations that were alleged by Eng- 
 land, had not the effect to satisfy the Americans, and many discon- 
 tents remained. The French, animated by the spirit of rivalship, 
 which has so long existed between their nation and the British, ne- 
 glected no means of inflaming the wounds which the Americans had 
 received, or thought they had received, from their fellow citizens in 
 England. The flourishing state of the English colonies, was a spec- 
 tacle which the French had long been unable to observe with indif- 
 ference. They had at first the design of establishing others for 
 themselves, in some part of this immense continent, hoping to reap 
 from them the same benefits which the English derived from theirs ; 
 and to be able, at length, to give another direction to the commerce 
 of America, and of Europe. They intended, by good laws, or by 
 the employment of their arms, to repair the disadvantages of soil and 
 'of climate, observable in the countries which had fallen to their 
 share. But the French government being; more inclined for arms 
 than for commerce, and the nation itself having a natural bias much 
 stronger in favor of the one than towards the other of these profes- 
 sions, their resolutions were soon taken accordingly. And as their 
 character, also, disposes them to form vast designs, and renders 
 them impatient to enjoy without delay, they began immediately to 
 fortify themselves, and to enlarge their limits. Bastions, redoubts, 
 arsenals, and magazines, were established at every point, and in a 
 short time a line of French posts was seen to extend from one ex- 
 tremity of the continent to the other ; but military power can neither 
 supply population nor commerce, nor develop the advantages of 
 either. These fortresses, these arms, these garrisons, occupied 
 desert or steril regions. An immense solitude, impenetrable forests, 
 surrounded them on all sides. 
 
 The conduct of the English was very different ; they advanced 
 only step by step, restricting themselves to the cultivation of what 
 they possessed, and not seeking lo extend themselves, until urged 
 by the exigencies of an increased population. Their progress was 
 therefore slow, but sure; they occupied no new lands, until those 
 they had occupied at first were carried to the highest degree of cul- 
 VOL. i. 4 
 
26 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK f* 
 
 tivation, and inhabited by a sufficient number of individuals. A me- 
 thod so different, could not fail to produce effects totally contrary ; 
 and in effect, a century after the foundation of the English and 
 French colonies, the former presented the image of fertility and 
 abundance, while the latter exhibited but a steril and scarcely in- 
 habited region. 
 
 Meanwhile the French reflecting that either from the rigor of 
 the climate, or the sterility of the soil, or from defect of industry, or 
 of suitable laws, they could not hope to direct towards their esta- 
 blishment the commerce of the English colonies, or at least to share 
 its benefits ; convinced, on the other hand, that these colonies were 
 an inexhaustable source of riches and power for a rival nation, they 
 resolved to resort to arms, and to obtain by force what they had 
 failed to acquire by their industry. They hoped that the discontent of 
 the Americans would manifest itself, and produce favorable events ; 
 or at least, that they would be less prompt to engage in the contest. 
 They well knew that in the American arms, men, munitions, and 
 treasure, must consist all the nerve and substance of the war. 
 
 Proceeding with their accustomed impatience, without waiting 
 till their preparations were completed, they provoked the enemy, 
 sometimes complaining that he had occupied lands appertaining to 
 them, sometimes themselves invading or disturbing his possessions. 
 This the British government deeply resented ; and war between the 
 two nations broke out, in the year 1755. But the effects little cor- 
 responded with such confident hopes ; the councils of England be- 
 ing directed by William Pitt, afterwards earl of Chatham, a man, 
 for the power of his genius, and the purity of his manners, rather 
 single, than rare ; the affairs of Great Britain succeeded so prosper- 
 ously, and her arms acquired so decided a superiority, by land and 
 sea, that her enemies, wearied, worsted, and having lost all hopes of 
 victory, accepted the conditions of the peace of Paris, which was 
 concluded in 1763. It guarantied to the English the possession of 
 the vast continent of North America, from the banks of the Missis- 
 sippi to the shores of Greenland ; but the most important point for 
 them, was the cession made them, by France, of Canada. 
 
 England also gained, by this treaty, many valuable islands in the 
 West Indies ; and so greatly was her power extended in the east, 
 and so solid were the foundations on which it reposed, that her 
 commerce and her arms soon reigned there almost without a com- 
 petitor. 
 
 The Americans, on their part, displayed so much zeal in sustain- 
 ing, with their arms and resources, the efforts of the common coun- 
 try, that, besides the glory they acquired, they were deemed worthy 
 to participate in the advantages which resulted to England from so 
 many successes. 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 27 
 
 The French renouncing the hope of reaping any advantage from 
 the chances of war, resorted to the means of address ; emissaries 
 traversed the American continent, saying to all that would hear 
 them, l To what end have the Americans lavished their blood, en- 
 countered so many dangers, and expended so much treasure, in the 
 late war, if the English supremacy must continue to press upon them 
 with so much harshness and arrogance ? In recompense of such 
 fidelity, of so much constancy, the English government, perhaps, 
 has moderated its prohibitions, has enfranchised commerce from 
 trammels so prejudicial to the interests of America ? Perhaps 
 the odious and so much lamented laws against manufactures, have 
 been repealed ? Perhnps the Americans no longer need toil upon 
 their lands, or traverse the immensity of the seas, exclusively to fill 
 the purses of English merchants . ? Perhaps the government of Eng- 
 land had shown a disposition to abandon for ever the project of par- 
 liamentary taxes? Is it not, on the contrary, too evident, that, with 
 its forces and power, have increased its thirst of gold, and the tyran- 
 ny of its caprices ? Was not this admitted by Pitt himself, when he 
 declared, the war being terminated, he should be at no loss to find 
 the means of drawing a public revenue from America, and of putting 
 an end, once for all, to American resistance ? Has not England, at 
 present being mistress of Canada, a province recently French, and, 
 as such, more patient of the yoke, has she not the means of impos- 
 ing it on her colonists themselves, by the hand of her numerous 
 soldiery ? Is it not time that the Americans, no longer in a state of 
 infancy, should, at .length, consider themselves a nation, strong and 
 formidable of itself 5 Is it only for the utility of England they have 
 demonstrated, in the late war, what they were capable of achieving ? 
 And by what right should a distant island pretend to govern, by its 
 caprices, an immense and populous continent f How long must the 
 partialities and the avarice of England be tolerated ? Did ever men, 
 arms, riches, courage, climate, invite to a more glorious enterprise ? 
 Let the Americans, then, seize the occasion, with a mrnd worthy of 
 themselves, now they have proved their arms, now that an enormous 
 public debt overwhelms England, now that her name has become 
 detestable to all ! America can place her confidence in foreign suc- 
 cours. What could be objected to a resolution so generous ? Con- 
 sanguinity ? But have not the English hitherto treated the colonists 
 more as vassals, than as brothers ? Gratitude f But have not the 
 English strangled it, under the pretensions of that mercantile and 
 avaricious spirit which animates them ?' 
 
 The general state of Europe was eminently favorable to the 
 secret designs of France. It is certain, that at this epoch, all the 
 powers concurred in considering the enormous increase of the 
 strength of the British nation, both upon land and sea, as imminent- 
 ly menacing to the repose and liberty of Europe ; excessive pros-. 
 
28 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 perity but too rarely permitting men to know where to limit their 
 enterprises. Supported with one hand upon her colonies of Ameri- 
 ca, and with the other upon her possessions of the East Indies, Eng- 
 land seemed to press the two extremities of the globe, and to aspire 
 at the entire dominion of the ocean. From the day in which was 
 concluded the peace of 1763, England was viewed with the same 
 jealousy which France had inspired under Lewis XIV. She was 
 the object of the same umbrage, of the same distrusts. All desired 
 to see her power reduced ; and the more she had shown herself 
 formidable in the preceding war, the more ardently was it wished 
 to take advantage of the present peace, to humble and reduce her. 
 These wishes "were much the most fervent with the maritime 
 states, and especially in Holland, to whom England, in these late 
 times, had caused immense losses. The English squadrons had 
 often interrupted, and sometimes by the most outrageous proceed- 
 ings, the commerce, in the munitions of war, which the Dutch car- 
 ried on with France ; and, on many occasions, the officers of the 
 British navy made use of this pretext to detain -ships, laden with 
 articles that could not really be considered as munitions of war. 
 
 The kingdoms of the north reluctantly supported the prepotence 
 of England, and openly complained that she had presumed to harass 
 the commerce of neutrals, in time of war. It was evident they were 
 prepared to seize the first occasion to give her a check. But 
 France, more than any other power, being of a martial spirit, was 
 inflamed with a desire to avenge her defeats, to repair her losses, 
 and reconquer her glory, eclipsed by recent discomfiture ; she was 
 incessantly occupied with calculations which might lead to this object 
 of all her wishes ; and no means more efficacious could be offered 
 her for attaining it, than to lacerate the bosom of her adversary, by 
 separating from England the American colonies, so important a part 
 of her power and resources. 
 
 Excited by so many suggestions, the inhabitants of English Ame- 
 rica conceived an aversion, still more intense, for the avaricious 
 proceedings of the British government. Already, those who were 
 the most zealous for liberty, or the most ambitious, had formed in 
 the secret of their hearts, the resolution to shake off the yoke of 
 England, whenever a favorable occasion should present. This de- 
 sign was encouraged by the recent cession of Canada : while that 
 province continued a dependency of France, the vicinity of a restless 
 and powerful nation kept the colonists in continual alarm ; they were 
 often constrained to solicit the succours of England, as those from 
 which alone they could expect protection against the incursions of 
 the enemy. But the French having abandoned Canada, the Ameri- 
 cans necessarily became more their own protectors ; they placed 
 greater reliance upon their own strength, and had less need of re- 
 curring to others, for their particular security. It should be consi- 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 29 
 
 dered, besides, that in the late war a great number of the colonists 
 had renounced the arts of peace, and assuming the sword instead of 
 tle spade, had learned the exercise of arms, inured their bodies to 
 military fatigues, and their minds to the dangers of battle : they had, 
 in a word, lost all the habits of agriculture and of commerce, and 
 acquired those of the military profession. The being that has the 
 consciousness of his force, becomes doubly strong, and the yoke he 
 feels in a condition to break, is borne with reluctance : thus, the 
 skill recently acquired in the use of arms, become general among 
 the Americans, rendered obedience infinitely more intolerable to 
 them. They considered it a shameful and outrageous thing, that a 
 minister, residing at a distance of three thousand miles from their 
 country, could oppress, by his agents, those who had combated with 
 so much valor, and obtained frequent victories over the troops of a 
 powerful, brave, and warlike nation. They often reflected, that this 
 prosperity, in which England exulted, and which was the object of 
 envy to so many nations, was in great part the work of their hands. 
 They alleged that they had repaid with the fruit of their toils, and 
 even with their blood, the fostering cares with which the mother 
 country had protected and sustained them, in the infancy of their 
 establishment : that now there was a greater parity between the two 
 nations, and therefore they had claims to be treated on terms of 
 greater equality. Thus the Americans habitually discoursed, and 
 perhaps the less timid among them aspired to loftier things. The 
 greater number, however, satisfied with the ancient terms of con- 
 nexion with England, were reluctant to dissolve it, provided she 
 would abandon all idea of ulterior usurpations. Even the most 
 intrepid in the defence of their privileges, could not endure the 
 thought of renouncing every species of dependence on their legiti- 
 mate sovereign. This project they condemned the more decidedly, 
 as they perceived that in its execution they must not only encounter 
 all the forces of England, by so many victories become formidable 
 to the universe, but also must resort to the assistance of a nation, in 
 language, manners and customs, so different from themselves : of a 
 nation they had so long been accustomed to hate, and to combat 
 under the banners of their mother country. 
 
 Notwithstanding the suggestions of the French, and the new im- 
 pulse which their military essays had given to the minds of the 
 Americans, this state of things might have continued still for a long 
 time, if, after the conclusion of the peace of 1763, England had not 
 conceived the extravagant idea of new taxes, of new prohibitions, of 
 new outrages. The English commerce, about the close of the war 
 with France, having arrived at the highest point of prosperity, it 
 would be difficult to estimate the immense number of vessels which 
 brought the productions of all parts of the globe into the ports of 
 Great Britain, and received, in exchange, the produce, and espe- 
 
30 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 cially the manufactures, of the country, esteemed above all others 
 in foreign markets ; and, as these various commodities were subject, 
 when introduced or exported, to duties, more or less considerable, 
 this commerce had become a source of riches for the public treasury. 
 But, it soon appeared that, to the great prejudice of this revenue, the 
 increase of smuggling was in proportion to that of commerce. Govern- 
 ment, desirous of arresting so pernicious a scourge, made a regulation, 
 in 1764, by which it was enjoined the commanders of vessels station- 
 ed upon the coasts of England, and even those of ships that were 
 destined for America, to perform the functions of revenue officers, 
 and conform themselves to the rules established for the protection of 
 the customs ; a strange and pernicious measure, by which those 
 brave officers, who had combated the enemy with so much glory, 
 found themselves degraded into so many tide-waiters and bailiffs of 
 the revenue. The most deplorable effects soon resulted from it ; 
 the naval commanders, little conversant with the regulations of the 
 custom-house, seized and confiscated promiscuously the cargoes 
 prohibited, and those that were not. 
 
 This confusion was the occasion of manifold abuses, which, if they 
 were soon repaired in England, could not be remedied without 
 extreme difficulty in America, from the distance of places, and the 
 formalities required. Hence loud complaints were heard from all 
 the colonies against the law. It produced, however, consequences 
 still more pernicious. A commerce had been established, for a great 
 length of time, between the English and Spanish colonies, extremely 
 lucrative to both the parties, and, ultimately also to England. On 
 the part of the British colonies, the principal objects of this traffic 
 were the manufactures of England, which the Americans had ac- 
 quired in exchange for their productions, and on the part of the 
 Spanish, gold and silver, in specie or ingots, cochineal, medicinal 
 drug? ; besides live stock, especially mules, which the Americans 
 transported to the islands of the West Indies, where they were de- 
 manded at great prices. This commerce procured for the Ameri- 
 cans an abundance of these metals, and enabled them to make ample 
 purchases of English merchandise ; and furnished their own country, 
 at the same time, with a sufficient quantity of gold and silver coin. 
 
 This traffic, if it was not prohibited by the commercial laws of 
 England, was not expressly authorised. Accordingly, the new 
 revenue officers believed it was their duty to interrupt its course, as 
 if it had been contraband ; and captured, without distinction, all 
 vessels, whether English or foreign, laden with merchandise of this 
 nature. Hence, in a short time, this commerce was destroyed, to 
 the great prejudice, not only of the colonies upon the continent, 
 but even of the English islands themselves, and particularly of 
 Jamaica. 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 31 
 
 From the same cause proceeded the ruin of another very import- 
 ant commerce, which was exercised between the English colonies 
 of America on the one part, and the islands appertaining to France 
 on the other ; and which had been productive of the greatest reci- 
 procal utility. Its material consisted principally of such productions 
 and commodities as were superfluous to the one, and totally wanting 
 to the other. It is, therefore, not surprising, that the colonists, at 
 the news of losses so disastrous, should have resolved not to pur- 
 chase, in future, any English stuffs, with which they had been accus- 
 tomed to clothe themselves ; and, as far as possible, to use none but 
 domestic manufactures. They determined, besides, to give every 
 encouragement to those manufactories which wrought the materials 
 abundantly produced by their lands and animals. But in Boston, 
 particularly, a rich and populous city, where the luxury of British 
 merchandise had been extensively introduced, it is difficult to express 
 how extremely the public mind was exasperated, or with what 
 promptitude all the inhabitants renounced superfluities, and adhered 
 to the resolution of returning to the simplicity of early times : a re- 
 markable example of which was soon observed in the celebration of 
 funerals, which began to take place without habiliments of mourning, 
 and without English gloves. This new economy became so general 
 at Boston, that, in the year 1764, the consumption of British mer- 
 chandise was diminished upwards of ten thousand pounds sterling. 
 Other towns followed this example ; and, in a short time, all the 
 colonists concurred in abstaining from the use of all objects of luxury, 
 produced by the manufactories, or by the soil, of England. Besides 
 this, and even of necessity, from the scarcity of money, the mer- 
 chants of the colonies, finding themselves debtors for large- sums to 
 the English, and having no reason to expect new advances, without 
 new payments, which they were not in a situation to make, resorted 
 also to the plan of non-consumption ; they renounced all purchase 
 and all expense, to the incredible prejudice of the manufacturers in 
 England. 
 
 But the English government did not stop here : as if not satisfied 
 with having excited the discontent of the colonists, it desired also 
 to urge them to desperation. In the month of March, 1764, the 
 parliament passed a regulation, by which, if on the one hand a 
 traffic was permitted between the American colonies and the French 
 islands of the West Indies, and others appertaining to other Eu- 
 ropean powers ; on the other, such enormous duties were imposed 
 on the merchandise imported from the latter, as to create, as usual, 
 an almost universal contraband, in every article, with immense dis- 
 advantage to the commerce itself, and equal prejudice to mercantile 
 habits and probity. To crown so great an evil, it was ordered, by 
 the same bill, that the sums proceeding from these duties should be 
 paid, in specie, into the treasury of England. The execution of 
 
32 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I, 
 
 this ordinance must have completely drained the colonies of the little 
 money they had remaining, to be transported to Europe. 
 
 The secret exasperation redoubled, at the first intelligence of 
 measures so extraordinary. They remarked, that they were even 
 contradictory ; that it was requiring a thing, and, at the same time 
 time, withholding the means to perform it ; since the government 
 deprived them of all faculty of procuring specie, and yet would have 
 them furnish it, to be transported to a distance of three thousand 
 miles. But, as if the ministry were afraid the tempest of indigna- 
 tion, excited by these new laws, should be appeased too soon, they 
 wrested from the parliament another act, which appeared fjf'rt.-p nays 
 after. It purported, that bills of credit, which might be issued in 
 future by the American colonies, should no longer have legal curren- 
 cy in payments ; and that, as to those in circulation, they likewise 
 could not be received as legal payment, after the term prefixed for 
 their redemption and extinction. It is true, however, that all the 
 money proceeding from the duties above mentioned, was directed, by 
 other clauses of the bill, to be kept in reserve, and could only be 
 employed for expenses relative to the colonies; it is true, also, that 
 at the same time the act was framed concerning bills of credit, some 
 others were passed, to promote and regulate the reciprocal commerce 
 between the colonies and mother country, and between the colonies 
 themselves. But these regulations failed to produce the expected 
 effects : for they were necessarily slow in their operation ; while 
 those which restricted and attacked the external commerce of the 
 colonies, or shackled their domestic trade, were immediately opera- 
 tive. Some also attempted to demonstrate, that the money carried 
 off by these duties must infallibly flow back into the colonies, for the 
 payment and support of the troops stationed there, to protect and de- 
 fend them. But who would guaranty to the colonists, that ihe troops 
 should be quartered among them so long as the law might continue 
 in force ? If such was the intention of the legislator, why cause this 
 treasure to travel, with no little risk and expense, from America to 
 England, and thence back to the place from whence it came ; thus 
 imposing the necessity of passing it through so many and so different 
 hands ? Perhaps, they said, in order that it might have the honor of 
 visiting the British exchequer ? And why was it not more expedient 
 to employ it where it was found, without so many voyages and cir- 
 cuits ? This plainly demonstrated, that it was but a pretext for the 
 most pernicious designs. Besides, for what purpose, for what good, 
 were so many troops maintained in America ? External enemies at 
 present, there were none; and for the repression of the Indians, the 
 colonies were, doubtless, sufficient of themselves. But the fact was, 
 they continued, the ministers had formed a design to oppress their 
 liberty; and for this purpose did they arm themselves with so many 
 soldiers, and incur such vast expense, in the midst of a people 
 abounding in loyalty and innocence. 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 33 
 
 All these new regulations, which succeeded each other with such 
 precipitation, were indeed but too well calculated to surprise and 
 alarm the inhabitants of North America. Such a proceeding on the 
 part of the government appeared to them, and was in fact, both new 
 and inauspicious. They felt it profoundly ; and, by their remon- 
 strances, demonstrated how unjustly they were aggrieved, and de- 
 manded incessantly to be restored to their former condition. But 
 they did not stop at bare complaints. When they found that their 
 remonstrances were ineffectual, they resolved to employ some more 
 efficacious means to convince the ministers of the error they had 
 committed. The resolutions taken against British manufactures, 
 which at first had been merely individual, now became general, by 
 combinations to this effect, contracted in the principal cities of 
 America, which were observed with an astonishing constancy and 
 punctuality. Great Britain experienced from these associations an 
 immense detriment, and feared, not without reason, still greater ; for, 
 as they comprehended men of all conditions, they tended, by de- 
 grees, to conduct the manufactures of the country to a certain de- 
 gree of perfection, the more probable, as the abundance of raw 
 materials would permit their products to be sold at very moderate 
 prices. Finally, it was to be expected, that, with the progressive 
 increase of industry, the manufactures of the colonies might supply 
 with their fabrics the neighboring colonies of Spain and Portugal. 
 But, without anticipating the future, it is certain that the interruption 
 alone of commerce between the American colonies and England, 
 was extremely prejudicial to the latter ; for it is known, that the co- 
 lonies, without including the foreign merchandise they received from 
 the hands of England, annually purchased to the value of three mil- 
 lions sterling, of English productions or manufactures. The public 
 revenues suffered materially, from the effects of this new policy ; the 
 duties upon the exportation of merchandise destined for America, and 
 those upon the importation of articles which foreign merchants sent 
 in exchange for the productions of the English colonies, experienced 
 a continual diminution. Henceforth began to germinate those fatal 
 seeds, which the British government, instead of extirpating, seemed 
 to take pleasure in cultivating, till they produced all the ruin which 
 followed. 
 
 But, although these unusual duties had excited a general discon- 
 tent in America, and although the inhabitants complained of them 
 bitterly, as unjust and oppressive burdens, they considered them, 
 nevertheless, not as taxes or imposts, but merely as regulations of 
 commerce, which were within the competency of parliament. They 
 believed, indeed, that in this instance it had departed from that pa- 
 rental benevolence which it had discovered towards them during 
 more than a century ; still they did not think it had transcended the 
 limits of its authority. But the English ministers revolved in their 
 VOL. i. 5 
 
34 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 minds a design far more lucrative for the exchequer, and still more 
 prejudicial to the interests and liberty of the colonists. This was to 
 impose taxes or excises upon the colonies, by acts of parliament ; 
 and to create, in this way, a branch of public revenue, to be placed 
 at the disposal of parliament itself. This project, far from being 
 new, had long been fermenting in English heads. Seme of those 
 schemers, who are ever ruminating new plans and expedients to filch 
 money from the pockets of the people, had already suggested, in 
 1739, during the Spanish war, to Robert Walpole, then prime min- 
 ister, the idea of taxing the colonies ; but this man, no less sagacious 
 than profoundly versed in the science of government and commerce, 
 answered, with an ironical smile, ' I will leave this operation to some 
 one of my successors, who shall have more courage than me, and 
 less regard for commerce. I have always, during my administration, 
 thought it my duty to encourage the commerce of the American co- 
 lonies ; and I have done it. Nay, I have even chosen to wink at 
 some irregularities in their traffic with Europe; for my opinion is, 
 that if, by favoring their trade with foreign nations, they gain five 
 hundred thousand pounds sterling, at the end of two years, full two 
 hundred and fifty thousand of it will have entered the royal coffers ; 
 and that by the industry and productions of England, who sells them 
 an immense quantity of her manufactures. The more they extend 
 their foreign commerce, the more will they consume of our mer- 
 chandise. This is a mode of taxing them, more conformable to 
 their constitution, and to our own.' 
 
 But, at the epoch in question, the power of England had arrived 
 at such a height, that it appeared impossible for the American colo- 
 nies, though supported by all Europe, to resist her will. So much 
 glory and greatness, however, had not been acquired without enor- 
 mous sacrifices ; and the public debt amounted to the prodigious 
 sum of one hundred and forty-eight millions sterling, or about six 
 hundred and fifty-seven millions five hundred thousand dollars. Thus 
 it had become necessary to search out every object, and every occu- 
 pation, susceptible of taxes or contributions. It was, therefore, 
 thought expedient, and even necessary, to tax the colonies, for whose 
 security and prosperity, principally, a war so terrible had been 
 waged, such dangers encountered, so much blood and treasure ex- 
 pended. As to the species of the tax, it was decided for that of 
 stamped paper, which was already established in England ; and it was 
 understood, so far as related to its nature, to be the least odious to 
 the Americans, provided, however, it was established by the president 
 and the grand council, according to the plan of colonial administra- 
 tion proposed by themselves, and not by authority of parliament. 
 There were even found Americans, who, being then in London, not 
 only favored, but perhaps first suggested, this new mode of taxing 
 the colonies; and, among others, it appears that a certain Huske, a 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. . 35 
 
 native of Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, was one of its principal 
 promoters. 
 
 This proposition was received with eagerness, as are, commonly, 
 all the projects of those who are industrious to extort money from 
 the people. English ears could hear no sound more grateful than 
 this ; for if the people of England groaned under the weight of taxes, 
 both old and new, they were persuaded, from what had been told 
 them, that in America there was a redundance of all good things. 
 'Shall our colonists,' they said, 'enjoy the magnificence of princes, 
 while we must drudge, and consume ourselves with efforts to procure 
 a scanty subsistence ?' The officers, who had served in the colo- 
 nies, painted, on their return, in vivid colors, the American prosperity 
 and affluence. 
 
 These details were not so much exaggerated as might be thought, 
 at the time of their residence in America. Money was then very 
 abundant in the colonies, the government necessarily remitting thither 
 considerable sums, for the support of the troops, and expenses of 
 the war. At that time, American productions were in great request, 
 and their commerce very flourishing. The inhabitants, being natu- 
 rally courteous and hospitable, expended generously, to render their 
 houses agreeable to strangers, then very numerous. The war ter- 
 minated, all dangers averted, the power of an inveterate enemy, 
 hitherto intrenched in the heart of the country, extinguished, the 
 colonists conceived it a duty to offer the most honorable reception 
 in their power to those who had contributed so greatly to their pre- 
 sent security and felicity. 
 
 The necessity of drawing a public revenue frorp the colonies, be- 
 ing therefore no longer doubted, and the willingness of the colonists 
 to concur in it, by means of the duty upon stamped paper, being pre- 
 sumed, as well as their ability to support it, the house of commons, on 
 the 10th of March, 1764, voted a resolution, purporting ' that it was 
 proper to charge certain stamp duties, in the colonies and plantations.' 
 This resolution, not being followed, this year, by any other to carry 
 it into effect, existed merely as an intention to be executed the suc- 
 ceeding year. 
 
 If the stamp act had been carried into immediate execution in the 
 colonies, they would perhaps have submitted to it, if not without 
 murmuring, at least without that open opposition which was manifest- 
 ed afterwards; and it is known how much more easily the people are 
 retained in quiet, than appeased when once excited. The principal 
 colonists would not have had time to launch into discussions, in which 
 they predicted to their fellow-citizens the evils which must result 
 from their consent to this new tax ; and as evils inspire more alarm 
 at a distance than at approach, the colonists, not having experienced 
 from this sudden imposition the prejudice apprehended in the un- 
 certain fiitiirefktould probably have become tranquil ; they cer- 
 
36 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 tainly would not have had so much scope to inflame each other 
 against the duty, as they afterwards did. For no sooner was the news 
 of the impost in question received in any place, than it was spread, 
 as it were, in a moment, throughout the country, and produced such 
 an impression upon the minds of all, and especially of the lower 
 classes, that all orders of citizens, waiving their ancient rivalships, 
 difference of habits, and diversity of opinions in political and reli- 
 gious matters, were unanimous in maintaining, that it was impossible 
 to submit to a law enacted in a mode so contrary to ancient usages, 
 to their privileges as colonists, and to their rights as English subjects. 
 Thus, for having chosen to warn before the blow, the British govern- 
 ment prepared in the colonies an unanimous and most determined 
 concurrence of opinion against one of its solemn decrees ; and de- 
 prived itself of that docility resulting among the people from their 
 intestine divisions, and the diversity of their interests. 
 
 The prime minister, Grenville, had been the author of this delay, 
 hoping the colonies, upon advice of the bill in agitation, if they dis- 
 liked the stamp duty, would have proposed some other mode of rais- 
 ing the sum intended to be levied by it. Accordingly, when the 
 agents of the colonies went to pay him their respects, he informed 
 them that he was prepared to receive, on the part of the colonies, 
 any other proposal of a tax which would raise the sum wanted ; 
 shrewdly insinuating, also, that it was now in their power, by consent- 
 ing, to establish it as a principle, that they should be consulted before 
 any tax whatever was imposed upon the colonies by authority of par- 
 liament. Many in England, and possibly the agents themselves, at- 
 tributed this conduct of the minister to moderation ; but beyond the 
 Atlantic it found a quite different reception, all with one voice ex- 
 claiming that this was an interested charity. For they thought, that 
 however civil his offers, the minister would nevertheless exact, to a 
 penny, the entire sum he desired, which in substance was saying, 
 that willingly or otherwise, they must submit to his good pleasure ; 
 and consequently, his complaisance was but that of an accom- 
 plished robber. It was known that he would not be satisfied with 
 less than three hundred thousand pounds sterling a year, the sum con- 
 sidered necessary for the support of the army it was resolved to 
 maintain in the colonies for their defence. Not one of the agents 
 was authorised to comply. Two only alleged, they were commis- 
 sioned to declare that their provinces were ready to bear their pro- 
 portion of the duty upon stamps, when it should be established ac- 
 cording to ancient usages. The minister, therefore, having heard 
 no proposal that appeared to him acceptable, resolved to pursue the 
 design of a stamp act. Meanwhile, the fermentation in America was 
 violent, not only among private citizens, but also among the members 
 of public and corporate bodies; and all were of one mind, in assert- 
 ing that the parliament had no right to tax the^^lonies. In all 
 
BOOK 1. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 places, political circles and clubs were formed ; the subjectof all con- 
 versations was the fatal tax. Every day, every hour, diminished the 
 respect and affection of the Americans towards the British nation, 
 and increased their disposition to resist. As it happens in all popular 
 commotions, he that declaimed with the most vehemence was the 
 most applauded, and deemed the best citizen. The benefits confer- 
 red by the mother country, during so long a period, were consigned 
 to oblivion ; and it had become as frequent as it was grateful to the 
 people, to read the list of British vexations. These outrages were 
 represented in the most odious colors by the orators of the multi- 
 tude, whose minds were continually exasperated by similar harangues. 
 The assemblies of representatives, and particularly those of Massa- 
 chusetts and Virginia, despatched instructions to their agents in Lon- 
 don, to use all diligence, by all possible means, to prevent the inten- 
 tional act from being passed into a law. 
 
 They also addressed remonstrances to the king, and to the two 
 houses of parliament, all tending to the same end. But those of 
 the province of Massachusetts were the most energetic and vehe- 
 ment. This province was particularly distinguished, for the warmth 
 with which it had opposed the new and pernicious direction which 
 the ministers had for some time given to American affairs. The 
 colonists acquired a still more determined resolution, when they 
 learned, that in the present contest they were not abandoned to them- 
 selves, but that many were found in the mother country itself, even 
 persons illustrious by their rank, their merit, or their dignities, who, 
 from conviction, from the desire of renown, or from a wish to sup- 
 plant the ministers, were continually exclaiming, both in parliament 
 and elsewhere, that ' Such was not the accustomed mode of conduct 
 of the English government towards its subjects ; that it was a new 
 tyranny, which, if tolerated, would one day rebound from the shores 
 of America upon those of England ; the evil should be resisted in 
 its principles ; that governments in prosperity were but too much 
 disposed to arrogate an extension of power ; there was much ap- 
 pearance that the government of Great Britain inclined to imitate 
 this usurpation ; that it was therefore essential to watch it with atten- 
 tion ; the desires and the arts of Scottish favorites were sufficiently 
 notorious; that America was the means or the instrument, but Eng- 
 land the object. And what occasion was there for these new im- 
 posts ? To protect and defend America, or the conquered territo- 
 ries . ? Was it to repress the Indian tribes ? The colonists, with 
 their light arms, and divided into detachments, were more proper for 
 this service than the heavy English infantry. The Americans had 
 all the courage requisite to defend themselves, and to succour, if 
 necessary, the advanced posts : they had given the proof of this, on 
 numerous occasions. There no longer existed a powerful enemy 
 upon the Ao|jiican continent: whence, therefore, these continual 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I, 
 
 apprehensions of an attack, when the vestige of an enemy is no 
 where to be seen ? And what necessity was there for maintaining 
 an army in America, the expense of which must be extorted from 
 the Americans ? Precious fruits, truly, had already. been gathered 
 from this military parade ! the minds of the colonists exasperated, 
 affection converted into hatred, loyalty into a desire of innovation. 
 In other times, had not the ministers obtained from the colonies, by 
 legitimate means, and without such a display of troops, according 
 to the exigency, all the succours at their disposal? Since they had 
 been thought able to furnish subsidies to the mother country, they 
 had never been demanded, except in the mode of requisitions on the 
 part of the crown, addressed by the governors to the different assem- 
 blies. By adhering to this mode, the same subsidies might be ob- 
 tained, without giving offence, and without danger of revolt. But 
 they would exact a servile obedience, in order to introduce, in due 
 time, into the very bosom of the kingdom, the principles and govern- 
 ment of the Stuarts ! Too certain indications had been remarked of 
 this, the day George Grenville ventured to produce his project of a 
 bill to authorise officers in the colonies to quarter their soldiers in 
 the houses of the citizens ; a thing expressly calculated to strike the 
 people with terrror, to degrade them by permitting themselves to be 
 trampled upon, and thus prepare them to receive the intended taxes 
 with submission. The murmurs which had arisen, from every quar- 
 ter, against so shocking an enormity, had indeed alarmed the minis- 
 ter ; but it was time to act more vigorously ; for it was the duty of 
 every good citizen to oppose these first attempts.' 
 
 But the ministers were not to be diverted from their plan ; either 
 because they were encouraged by the favorites concealed behind 
 them, or from personal obstinacy, or because they believed, in defi- 
 ance of all demonstration to the contrary, that the Americans would 
 be intimidated by the confusion and dangerous uncertainty which 
 would prevail in all their affairs, if, in their civil and commercial 
 transactions, they did not make use of stamped paper, and thus pay 
 the duty established. Hence the ministers were often heard to say, 
 that the measure proposed should be a law which would execute 
 itself. The memorials, the remonstrances, the petitions, the resolu- 
 tions, of the American provinces, were rejected. The bill for im- 
 posing a stamp duty was therefore submitted to parliament, in its 
 session of 17(35. It is easy to imagine with what animation it was 
 discussed. It may be doubted whether upon any other occasion, 
 either in times past or present, there has been displayed more vigor 
 or acuteness of intellect, more love of country, or spirit of party, or 
 greater splendor of eloquence, than in these debates. Nor was the 
 shock of opinions less violent, without the walls of Westminster. All 
 Europe, it may be said, and especially the commercial countries, 
 were attentive to the progress, and to the decision, dBthis important 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 39 
 
 The members of parliament who opposed the bill, discovered 
 great energy. They cited the authority of the most celebrated po- 
 litical writers, such as Locke, Selden, Harrington, and PuffendorfT, 
 who establish it as an axiom, that the very foundation, and ultimate 
 point in view, of all governments, is the good of society. Then, re- 
 tracing their national history, they alleged ; 
 
 ' That it resulted from Magna Charta, and from all the writs of 
 those times relative to the imposition of taxes for the benefit of the 
 crown, and to the sending of representatives to parliament, as well 
 as from the Declaration of Rights, and the whole history of the 
 English constitution, that no English subject can be taxed, except, 
 in their own phrase, ' per communem consensum parliamenti^ that is, 
 by his own consent, or that of his representatives ; that such was the 
 original and general right, which the inhabitants of the colonies, as 
 English subjects, carried with them, when they left their native land, 
 to establish themselves in these distant countries ; that therefore it 
 must not be imagined their rights were derived from charters, which 
 were granted them merely to regulate the external form of the con- 
 stitution of the colonies ; but that the great interior foundation of 
 their constitution was this general right of the British subject, which 
 is the first principle of British liberty, that is, that no man shall be 
 taxed, but by himself, or by his representative. 
 
 ; The counties palatine of Chester, Durham and Lancaster,' added 
 these orators, ' and the marches of Wales, were not taxed, except 
 in their own assemblies or parliaments, until, at different times, they 
 were called to participate in the national representation. 
 
 ' The clergy, until the late period, when they were admitted to a 
 share in the general representation, always taxed themselves, and- 
 granted the king what they called benevolences, or free gifts. 
 
 1 There are some, who, extending the power of parliament beyond 
 all limits, affect to believe that this body can do every thing, and is 
 invested with all rights ; but this is not supported, and though true, 
 could only be so in violation of the constitution ; for then there would 
 exist in parliament, as might occur in the instance of a single indivi- 
 dual, an arbitrary power. But the fact is, that many things are not 
 within the power of parliament. It cannot, for example, make itself 
 executive ; it cannot dispose of the offices that belong to the crown ; 
 it cannot take the property of any man, not even in cases of enclo- 
 sures, without his* being heard. The Lords cannot reject a money 
 bill, passed by the commons ; nor the commons erect themselves 
 into a court of justice j neither can the parliament of England tax 
 Ireland. 
 
 * It is the birthright of the colonists, as descendants of English- 
 men, not to be taxed by any but their own representatives ; and so 
 far from being represented in the parliament of Great Britain, they 
 are not even virtually represented here, as the meanest inhabitants 
 
40 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK. I. 
 
 of Great Britain are, in consequence of their intimate connexion 
 with those who are actually represented. 
 
 ' And if laws made by the British parliament to tax all except its 
 own members, or even all except such members and those actually 
 represented by them, would be deemed tyrannical, how much more 
 tyrannical and unconstitutional must not such laws appear to those 
 who cannot be said to be either actually or virtually represented ! 
 
 * The people of Ireland are much more virtually represented 
 in the parliament of Great Britain than the colonists, in consequence 
 of the great number of Englishmen possessed of estates and places 
 of trust and profit in Ireland, and their immediate descendants settled 
 in that country, and of the great number of Irish noblemen and gen- 
 tlemen in both houses of the British parliament, and the greater 
 numbers still constantly residing in Great Britain. But, notwithstand- 
 ing this, the British parliament has never claimed any right to tax 
 the people of Ireland. 
 
 ' The first founders of the colonies were not only driven out of the 
 mother country by persecution, but they left it at their own risk and 
 expense. Being thus forsaken, if not worse treated, all ties, except 
 those common to mankind, were dissolved between them. They 
 absolved from all duty of obedience to her, as she dispensed herself 
 from all duty of protection to them. 
 
 * If they accepted of any royal charters on the occasion, it was 
 done through mere necessity ; and, as this necessity was- not of their 
 own making, their charters cannot be binding upon them ; and even 
 allowing these charters to be binding, they are only bound thereby 
 to that allegiance which the supreme head of the realm may claim 
 indiscriminately from all its subjects. 
 
 ' It is extremely absurd to affirm that the Americans owe any sub- 
 mission to the legislative power of Great Britain, which had not au- 
 thority enough to shield them against the violences of the executive ; 
 and more absurd still, to say that the people of Great Britain can 
 exercise over them rights which that very people affirm they might 
 justly oppose, if claimed over themselves by others ? 
 
 ' The English people combated long, and shed much blood, with 
 a view of recovering those rights which the crown, it was believed, 
 had usurped over themselves ; and how can they now, without be- 
 coming guilty of the same usurpation, pretend to exercise these 
 rights over others f 
 
 * But, admitting that, by the charters granted to the Americans at 
 the time of their emigration, and by them from necessity accepted, 
 they are bound to make no laws but such as, allowing for the differ- 
 ence of circumstances, shall not clash with those of England, this no 
 more subjects them to the parliament of England, than their having 
 been laid under the same restraint with respect to the laws of Scot- 
 land, or any other country, would have subjected them to the parlia- 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 41 
 
 ment of Scotland, or the supreme authority of this other country ; 
 since, by these charters, they have a right to tax themselves, for 
 their own support and defence. 
 
 1 Whatever assistance the people of Great Britain may have given 
 to the people of the colonies, it must have been given either from 
 motives of humanity and fraternal affection, or with a view of being 
 one day repaid for it, and not as the price of their libejty ; at least 
 the colonies can never be presumed to have accepted it in that light. 
 If it was given from motives of humanity and fraternal affection, as 
 the people of the colonies have never given the mother country any 
 room to complain of them, so they never will. If, finally, it was 
 given with a view of being one day repaid for it, the colonists are 
 willing to come to a fair account, which, allowing for the assistance 
 they themselves have often given the mother country, for what they 
 must have lost, and the mother country must have gained , by pre- 
 venting their selling to others at higher prices than they could sell to 
 her, and their buying from others at lower prices than they could 
 buy from her, would, they apprehend, not turn out so much to her 
 advantage as she imagines.' 
 
 ' Their having heretofore submitted to laws made by the British 
 parliament, for their internal government, can no more be brought as 
 a precedent against them, than against the English themselves their 
 tameness under the dictates of a Henry, or the rod of a Star Cham- 
 ber ; the tyranny of many being as grievous to human nature as that 
 of a few, and the tyranny of a few as that of a single person. 
 
 * If liberty is the due of those who have sense enough to know 
 the value of it, and courage enough to expose themselves to every 
 danger and fatigue to acquire it, the American colonists are better 
 entitled to possess it than even their brethren of Great Britain ; since 
 they not only renounced their native soil, the love of which is so con- 
 genial with the human mind, and all those tender charities inseparable 
 from it, but exposed themselves to all the risks and hardships una- 
 voidable in a long voyage ; and, after escaping the danger of being 
 swallowed up by the waves, encountered, upon those uninhabited 
 and barbarous shores, the more cruel danger of perishing by a slow 
 famine ; which having combated, and surmounted, with infinite pa- 
 tience and constancy, they have, as if by a miracle of Divine Provi- 
 dence, at length arrived at this vigorous and prosperous state, so emi- 
 nently profitable to those from whom they derive their original. 
 
 * If, in the first years of their existence, some of the colonists dis- 
 covered a turbulent humor, and all were exposed to the incursions 
 of the neighboring tribes, a savage and hostile race, which condition 
 required the interposition and assistance of the British parliament, 
 they have now arrived to such a degree of maturity, in point of polity 
 and strength, as no longer to need such interposition for the future ; 
 and therefore, since the proportions are changed which existed be- 
 
 VOL. i. 6 
 
42 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 tween the two nations, it is proper also to change the terms of their 
 ancient connexion, and adopt others, more conformable to their pre- 
 sent respective power and circumstances. 
 
 4 The present statutes, promulgated by parliament, do not bind the 
 colonies, unless they are expressly named therein ; which evidently 
 demonstrates, that the English general laws do not embrace in their 
 action the American colonies, but need to be sanctioned by special 
 laws. 
 
 4 The colonies, therefore, stand in much the same relation towards 
 England, as the barons with respect to the sovereigns, in the feudal 
 system of Europe ; the obedience of the one, and the submission of 
 the other, are restricted within certain limits. 
 
 'The history of colonies, both ancient and modern, comes to the 
 support of these views. Thus the Carthagenians, the Greeks, and 
 other celebrated nations of antiquity, allowed their colonies a very 
 great liberty of internal government, contenting themselves with 
 the advantages they derived from their commerce. Thus the bar- 
 barians of the north, who desolated the Roman empire, carried with 
 them their laws, and introduced them among the vanquished, retain- 
 ing but an extremely slender obedience and submission towards the 
 sovereigns of their country. 
 
 4 Thus also, in more recent times, the House of Austria had acted, 
 in regard to its colonies of the Low Countries, before the latter 
 totally withdrew themselves from its domination. 
 
 4 Such examples ought to apprise the English of the conduct they 
 should pursue, in respect to their colonies; and warn them of what 
 they should avoid.' 
 
 4 The colonies are already sufficiently taxed, if the restrictions 
 upon their commerce are taken into view. No other burden should, 
 therefore, be laid upon the Americans, or they should be restored to 
 an entire liberty of commerce ; for otherwise they would be charged 
 doubly, than which nothing can be deemed more tyrannical. 
 
 * It is not argued, however, that the American colonies ought not 
 to be subject to certain external duties, which the parliament has au- 
 thority to establish in their ports, or to some other restrictions, which 
 have been laid upon their commerce by the act of navigation, or other 
 regulations. 
 
 4 They are in the same case as all other colonies, belonging to the 
 rest of the maritime powers in Europe ; from their first establish- 
 ment, all commerce with foreign nations has been prohibited them. 
 
 4 What is spoken of are internal taxes, to be levied on the body of 
 the people ; and it is contended, that before they can be liable to 
 such taxes, they must first be represented. 
 
 4 Even admitting, what is denied, that the British parliament has 
 the right to make laws for the colonies, still more to tax them with- 
 out their concurrence, there lie many objections against all the duties 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 43 
 
 lately imposed on the colonies, and more still, and weightier, against 
 that of the stamps lately projected by the ministers, and now pro- 
 posed for the sanction of parliament. For, whereas these stamp 
 duties were laid gradually on the people of Great Britain, they are 
 now to be saddled, all at once, with all their increased weight, on 
 those of the colonies ; and if these same duties were thought so 
 grievous in England, on account of the great variety of occasions in 
 which they were payable, and the great number of heavy penalties, 
 which the best meaning persons might incur, they must be to the 
 last degree oppressive in the colonies, where the people, in general, 
 cannot be supposed so conversant in matters of this kind, and num- 
 bers do not even understand the language of these intricate laws, so 
 foreign to their ordinary pursuits of agriculture and commerce.* 
 
 * It should be added, that these laws, which savor too much of 
 their native soil, and bear too distinctly the character of that subtilty 
 for which the English financial system is distinguished, must be view- 
 ed by foreigners as insidious snares, and tend to discourage them 
 from emigrating, with their families, to the American shores. Need 
 any one be told how prejudicial this would prove to their growing 
 population, and, by rebound, to the interests of England herself? 
 
 ' Finally, as the money produced by these duties, according to the 
 terms of the bill proposed, is required to be paid into the English 
 treasury, the colonies, already impoverished by commercial prohibi- 
 tions, must, in a short time, be drained of all their specie, to the ruin 
 of their commerce, both internal and external.' 
 
 On the part of the ministers, these objections were answered, as 
 follows : 
 
 ' First of all, it is necessary to banish from the present question 
 all this parade of science and erudition, so pompously displayed by 
 our opponents, and which they have collected from the books of spe- 
 culative men, who have written upon the subject of government. 
 All these refinements and arguments of natural lawyers, such as 
 Locke, Selden, PufFendorfF, and others, are little to the purpose, in a 
 question of constitutional law. 
 
 4 And nothing can be more absurd, than to hunt after antiquated 
 charters, to argue from thence the present English constitution ; be- 
 cause the constitution is no longer the same ; and nobody knows what 
 it was, at some of the times that are quoted ; and there are things 
 even in Magna Charta, which are not constitutional now. All these 
 appeals, therefore, to the records of antiquity, prove nothing as to the 
 constitution such as it now is. 
 
 1 This constitution has always been subject to continual changes 
 and modifications, perpetually gaining or losing something ; nor was 
 the representation of the commons of Great Britain formed into any 
 certain system, till the reign of Henry VII. 
 
 * See Note II, 
 
44 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 ' With regard to the modes of taxation, when we get beyond the 
 reign of Edward I. or king John, we are all in doubt and obscurity ; 
 the history of those times is full of uncertainty and confusion. As 
 to the writs upon record, they were issued, some of them according 
 to law, and some not according; to law ; and such were those concern- 
 ing ship money ; to call assemblies to tax themselves, or to compel 
 benevolences ; other taxes were raised by escuage, or shield ser- 
 vice, fees for knight's service, and other means arising from the 
 feudal system. Benevolences are contrary to law ; and it is well 
 known how people resisted the demands of the crown, in the case 
 of ship money ; and were prosecuted by the court. 
 
 ' With respect to the marches of Wales, this privilege of taxing 
 themselves was but of short duration ; and was only granted these 
 borderers, for assisting the king, in his wars against the Welsh in the 
 mountains. It commenced and ended with the reign of Edward I. $ 
 and when the prince of Wales came to be king, they were annexed 
 to the crown, and became subject to taxes, like the rest of the do- 
 minions of England. 
 
 { Henry VIII. was the first king of England who issued writs for it 
 to return two members to parliament ; the crown exercised the right 
 of issuing writs, or not, at pleasure ; from whence arises the inequal- 
 ity of representation, in our constitution of this day. Henry VIII. 
 issued a writ to Calais, to send one burgess to parliament ; and one 
 of the counties palatine was taxed fifty years to subsidies, before it 
 sent members to parliament. 
 
 1 The clergy at no time were unrepresented in parliament. When 
 they taxed themselves in their assemblies, it was done with the con- 
 currence and consent of parliament. 
 
 ' The reasoning about the colonies of Great Britain, drawn from 
 the colonies of antiquity, is a mere useless display of learning ; for it 
 is well known the colonies of the Tynans in Africa, and of the Greeks 
 in Asia, were totally different from our system. No nation, before 
 England, formed any regular system of colonisation, but the Ro- 
 mans ; and their colonial system was altogether military, by garrisons 
 placed in the principal towns of the conquered provinces ; and the 
 jurisdiction of the principal country was absolute and unlimited. 
 
 ' The provinces of Holland were not colonies ; but they were 
 states subordinate to the House of Austria, in a feudal dependence. 
 And, finally, nothing could be more different from the laws and cus- 
 toms of the English colonies, and that inundation of northern barba- 
 rians, who, at the fall of the Roman empire, invaded and occupied 
 all Europe. Those emigrants renounced all laws, all protection, all 
 connexion with their mother countries : they chose their leaders, and 
 marched under their banners, to seek their fortunes, and establish 
 new kingdoms upon the ruins of the Roman empire. 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR, 45 
 
 * On the contrary, the founders of the English colonies emigrated 
 under the sanction of the king and parliament ; their constitutions 
 were modelled gradually into their present forms, respectively by 
 charters, grants and statutes ; but they were never separated from 
 the mother country, or so emancipated as to become independent, 
 and sui juris. 
 
 6 The commonwealth parliament were very early jealous of the 
 colonies separating themselves from them ; and passed a resolution 
 or act, and it is a question whether it is not now in force, to declare 
 and establish the authority of England over her colonies. But if 
 there was no express law, or reason founded upon any necessary 
 inference from an express, law, yet the usage alone would be suffi- 
 cient to support that authority ; for, have not the colonies submitted, 
 ever since their first establishment, to the jurisdiction of the mother 
 country ? Have they not even invoked it in many instances . ? In all 
 questions of property, have not the appeals of the colonies been 
 made to the privy council here ? And have not these causes been 
 determined, not by the law of the colonies, but by the law of Eng- 
 land ? And have they not peaceably submitted to these decisions ? 
 
 1 These cases of recourse, however, have been very frequent. 
 New Hampshire and Connecticut have been in blood about their 
 differences ; Virginia and Maryland were in arms against each other. 
 Does not this show the necessity of one superior decisive jurisdiction, 
 to which all subordinate jurisdictions may recur ? Nothing, at any 
 time, could be more fatal to the peace and prosperity of the colonies, 
 than the parliament giving up its superintending authority over them. 
 From this moment, every bond between colony and colony would be 
 dissolved, and a deplorable anarchy would ensue. The elements of 
 discord and faction, already diffused amongst them, are too well 
 known, not to apprehend an explosion of this sort. 
 
 ' From this to the total annihilation of the present colonial system, 
 to the creation of new forms of government, and falling a prey to 
 some foreign potentate, how inevitable is their career ! 
 
 ' At present the several forms of their constitution are very vari- 
 ous, having been established one after another, and dictated by the 
 circumstances and events of the times ; the forms of government 
 in every colony, were adapted from time to time, according to the 
 size of the colony, and so have been extended again from time to 
 time, as the numbers of the inhabitants, and their commercial con- 
 nexions, outgrew the first model. In some colonies, at first there 
 was only a governor, assisted by two or three counsellors ; then more 
 were added ; then courts of justice were erected, then assemblies 
 were created. 
 
 < As the constitutions of the colonies are made up of different 
 principles, so they must, from the necessity of things, remain depen- 
 dent upon the jurisdiction of the mother country; no one ever 
 
46 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I* 
 
 thought the contrary, till this new doctrine was broached. Acts of 
 parliament have been made, not only without a doubt of their legali- 
 ty, but accepted with universal applause, and willingly obeyed. 
 Their ports have been made subject to customs and regulations, 
 which cramped and diminished their trade ; and duties have been 
 laid, affecting the very inmost parts of their commerce, and among 
 others, that of the post ; and no one ever thought, except these new 
 doctors, that the colonies are not to be taxed, regulated, and bound 
 by parliament. 
 
 * There can be no doubt, but that the inhabitants of the colonies 
 are as much represented in parliament, as the greatest part of the 
 people of England are, among nine millions of whom, there are eight 
 who have no votes in electing members of parliament ; and, there- 
 fore, all these arguments, brought to prove the colonies not depen- 
 dent on parliament, upon the ground of representation, are vain ; 
 nay, they prove too much, since they directly attack the whole pre- 
 sent constitution of Great Britain. But the thing is, that a member 
 of parliament, chosen for any borough, represents not only the con- 
 stituents and inhabitants of that particular place, but he represents 
 the inhabitants of every other borough in Great Britain. He repre- 
 sents the city of London, and all other the commons of the land, and 
 the inhabitants of all the colonies and dominions of Great Britain, and 
 is in duty and conscience bound to take care of their interests. 
 
 ' The distinction of internal and external taxes, is false and 
 groundless. It is granted, that restrictions upon trade, and duties 
 upon the ports, are legal, at the same time that the right of the par- 
 liament of Great Britain, to lay internal taxes upon the colonies, is 
 denied. What real difference can there be in this distinction ? Is 
 not a tax, laid in any place, like a pebble falling into and making a 
 circle in a lake, till one circle produces and gives motion to another, 
 and the whole circumference is agitated from the centre f 
 
 * Nothing can be more clear, than that a tax of ten or twenty per 
 cent, laid upon tobacco either in the ports of Virginia or London, is 
 a real duty laid upon the inland plantations of Virginia itself, an hun- 
 dred miles from the sea, wherever the tobacco grows. 
 
 ' Protection is the ground that gives the right of taxation. The 
 obligation between the colonies and the mother country is natural 
 and reciprocal, consisting of defence on the one side, and obedience 
 on the other ; and common sense tells, that the colonies must be de- 
 pendent in all points upon the mother country, or else not belong to 
 it at all. The question is not what was law, or what was the con- 
 stitution ? but the question is, what is law now, and what is the con- 
 stitution now ? 
 
 * And is not this law, is not this the constitution, is not this right, 
 which without contradiction, and for so long a time, and in number- 
 less instances, as such has been exercised on the one part, and ap- 
 proved by obedience on the other ? 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 47 
 
 1 No attention whatever is due to these subtile opinions and vain 
 abstractions of speculative men ; as remote from the common ex- 
 perience of human affairs, and but too well adapted to seduce and 
 inflame the minds of those, who, having derived such signal advan- 
 tages from their past submission, ought for the future also to obey 
 the laws of their hitherto indulgent, but powerful mother. 
 
 4 Besides, is not the condition of the Americans, in many respects, 
 preferable to that of the English themselves ? The expenses of in- 
 ternal and civil administration, in England, are enormous ; so incon- 
 siderable, on the contrary, in the colonies, as almost to surpass 
 belief. 
 
 ' The government of the church, productive of so heavy an ex- 
 pense in England, is of no importance in America ; there tithes, 
 there sinecure benefices, are unknown. Pauperism has no existence 
 in the colonies ; there, according to the language of Scripture, every 
 one lives under his own fig tree ; hunger and nakedness are banish- 
 ed from the land ; and vagrants, or beggars, are never seen. Happy 
 would it be for England, if as much could be affirmed of her sub- 
 jects on this side of the ocean ! But the contrary, as every body 
 knows, is the truth. 
 
 ' What nation has ever shown such tenderness towards its colonies 
 as England has demonstrated for hers ? Have they, in their necessi- 
 ties, ever sought in vain the prompt succours of Great Britain ? Was 
 it for their own defence against the enemy, or to advance their do- 
 mestic prosperity, have not the most ample subsidies been granted 
 them without hesitation ? 
 
 'Independently of these benefits, what other state has ever extend- 
 ed to a part of its population this species of favor, which had been 
 bestowed by England upon her colonies ? She has opened them a 
 credit without which they could never have arrived at this height of 
 prosperity, which excites the astonishment of all that visit them ; 
 and this considered, the tax proposed must be deemed a very mo- 
 derate interest for the immense sums which Great Britain has lent 
 her colonies. 
 
 ' As to the scarcity of money, the declamations upon this head are 
 equally futile : gold and silver can never be wanting in a country so 
 fertile in excellent productions as North America. The stamp duty 
 proposed being not only moderate, but even trivial, could never with- 
 draw from the country so considerable a quantity of specie, as to 
 drain its sources, especially as the product of this duty will be kept in 
 reserve in the treasury, and being destined to defray the expenses of 
 the protection and defence of the colonies, must therefore of necessity 
 be totally reimbursed. 
 
 ' This supremacy of England, about which such a clamor has 
 been raised, amounts then in reality, to nothing but a superiority of 
 power and of efforts to guard and protect all her dependencies, and 
 
48 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 all her dominions ; which she has done at a price that has brought 
 her to the brink of ruin. Great Britain, it is true, has acquired in 
 this struggle a gjory which admits of no addition ; but all her colo- 
 nies participate in this. The Americans are not only graced by the 
 reflected splendor of their ancient country, but she has also lavished 
 upon them the honors and benefits which belong to the members of 
 the British empire, while England alone has paid the countless cost 
 of so much glory.' 
 
 Such were the arguments advanced in parliament, with equal 
 ability and warmth, on the one part, and on the other, in favor, and 
 against, the American tax. While the question was in suspense, the 
 merchants of London, interested in the commerce of America, tor- 
 tured with the fear of losing or not having punctually remitted, the 
 capitals they had placed in the hands of the Americans, presented a 
 petition against the bill, on the day of its second reading ; for they 
 plainly foresaw that among their debtors, some from necessity, and 
 others with this pretext, would not fail to delay remittances. But it 
 was alleged, that the usage of the house of commons is not to hear 
 petitions directed against tax laws ; and this of the London mer- 
 chants, was, accordingly, rejected. 
 
 Meanwhile, the ministers, and particularly George Grenville, ex- 
 claimed ; 
 
 4 These Americans, our own children, planted by our cares, nour- 
 ished by our indulgence, protected by our arms, until they are grown 
 to a good degree of strength and opulence ; will they now turn their 
 backs upon us, and grudge to contribute their mite to relieve us from 
 the heavy load which overwhelms us ?' 
 
 Colonel Barre caught the words, and with a vehemence becom- 
 ing in a soldier, said ; 
 
 'Planted by your cares ! No ! your oppression planted them in 
 America ; they fled from your tyranny, into a then uncultivated land, 
 where they were exposed to almost all the hardships to which hu- 
 man nature is liable, and among others, to the savage cruelty of the 
 enemy of the country, a people the most subtle, and, I take upon me 
 to say, the most truly terrible, of any people that ever inhabited any 
 part of God's earth ; and yet, actuated by principles of true English 
 liberty, they met all these hardships with pleasure, compared with 
 those they suffered in their own country, from the hands of those 
 that should have been their friends.' 
 
 * They nourished up by your indulgence ? They grew by your 
 neglect ; as soon as you began to care about them, that care was ex- 
 ercised in sending persons to rule over them, in one department and 
 another, who were perhaps, the deputies of the deputies of some 
 members of this house, sent to spy out their liberty, to misrepresent 
 their actions, and to prey upon them ; men, whose behavior, on 
 many occasions, has caused the blood of these sons of liberty to recoil 
 
BOOK I. THE AMERICAN WAR. 49 
 
 within them ; men, promoted to the highest seats of justice, some 
 of whom, to my knowledge, were glad, by going to foreign countries, 
 to escape the vengeance of the laws in their own. 
 
 s They protected by your arms ? They have nobly taken tip arms 
 in your defence, have exerted their valor amidst their constant and 
 laborious industry, for the defence of a country, whose frontiers, 
 while drenched in blood, its interior parts have yielded for your en- 
 largement, the little savings of their frugality, and the fruits of their 
 toils. And believe me, remember, I this day told you so, that the 
 same spirit which actuated that people at first, will continue with 
 them still ; but prudence forbids me to explain myself any further. 
 God knows, I do not, at this time, speak from motives of party heat ; 
 what I assert proceeds from the sentiments of my heart. However 
 superior to me in general knowledge and experience, any one here 
 may be, yet I claim to know more of America, having seen, and 
 been more conversant in that country. The people there are as 
 truly loyal, as any subjects the king has ; but a people jealous of 
 their liberties, and who will vindicate them, if they should be violat- 
 ed ; but the subject is delicate ; 1 will say no more.' 
 
 This discourse was pronounced by the colonel without preparation, 
 and with such a tone of, energy, that all the house remained, as it 
 were, petrified with surprise, and all viewed him with attention, with- 
 out uttering a word. 
 
 But the pride of the ministers would not permit them to retreat, 
 and the parliament could not hear, with patience, its authority to 
 tax America, called in question. Accordingly, many voted in favor 
 of the bill, because they believed it just and expedient ; others, be- 
 cause the ministers knew how to make it appear such ; others, final- 
 ly, and perhaps the greater number, from jealousy of their contested 
 authority. Thus, when the house divided on the 7th of February, 
 1765, the nays were not found to exceed fifty, and the yeas were two 
 hundred and fifty. The bill was, therefore, passed, and was approv- 
 ed with great alacrity in the house of lords, on the 8th of March fol- 
 lowing, and sanctioned by the king the 22d of the same month. 
 
 Such was this famous scheme, invented by the most subtle, by the 
 most sapient heads in England ; whether the spirit of sophistry 
 in which it originated, or the moment selected for its promulgation, 
 be the most deserving of admiration, is left for others to pronounce. 
 Certain it is, that it gave occasion in America to those intestine 
 commotions, that violent fermentation, which, after kindling a civil 
 war, involving all Europe in its flames, terminated in the total dis- 
 junction from the British empire of one of its fairest possessions. 
 
 If in this great revolution, the arms of England suffered no dimi- 
 nution of splendor and glory, owing to the valor and gallantry dis- 
 played by her soldiers throughout the war, it cannot be disguised that 
 VOL. i. 7 
 
00 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK I. 
 
 her power and influence were essentially impaired among all nations 
 of the world. 
 
 The very night the act was passed, doctor Franklin, who was then 
 in London, wrote to Charles Thomson, afterwards secretary of 
 Congress, ' The sun of liberty is set ; the Americans must light the 
 lamps of industry and economy.' To which Mr. Thomson an- 
 swered ; ' Be assured we shall light torches of quite another sort.' 
 Thus predicting the convulsions that were about to follow. 
 
 END OF BOOK FIRST. 
 
NOTES TO BOOK I. 
 
 NOTE I. PAGE 22. 
 
 FRANKLIN'S LETTER. 
 
 EXCLUDING the people of the colonies from all share in the choice of the grand 
 council, would probably give extreme dissatisfaction, as well as the taxing them by act 
 of parliament, where they have no representation. 
 
 ' In matters of general concern to the people, and especially when burthens are to be 
 laid upon them, it is of use to consider, as well what they will be apt to think and say, 
 as what they ought to think ; I shall, therefore, as your excellency requires it of me, 
 briefly mention what of either kind occurs to me on this occasion. 
 
 ' First, they will say, and perhaps with justice, that the body of the people in the co- 
 lonies are as loyal, and as firmly attached to the present constitution, and reigning fa- 
 mily, as any subjects in the king's dominions. 
 
 ' That there is no reason to doubt the readiness and willingness of the representatives 
 they may choose, to grant, from time to time, such supplies for the defence of the coun- 
 try, as shall be judged necessary, so far as their abilities allow. 
 
 'That the people in the colonies, who are to feel the immediate mischiefs of invasion 
 and conquest by an enemy, in the loss of their estates, lives, and liberties, are likely to 
 be better judges of the quantity of forces necessary to be raised and maintained, forts 
 to be built and supported, and of their own abilities to bear the expense, than the par- 
 liament of England, at so great a distance. 
 
 ' That governors often come to the colonies merely to make fortunes with which they 
 intend to return to Britain; are not always men of the best abilities or integrity ; have, 
 many of them, no estates here, nor any natural connexions with us, that should make 
 them heartily concerned for our welfare ; and might, possibly, be fond of raising and 
 keeping up more forces than necessary, from the profits accruing to themselves, and to 
 make provision for their friends and dependants. 
 
 ' That the counsellors, in most of the colonies, being appointed by the crown, on the 
 recommendation of governors, are often persons of small estates, frequently dependent 
 on the governors for offices, and therefore too much under influence 
 
 ' That there is, therefore, great reason to be jealous of a power in such governors and 
 councils, to raise such sums as they shall judge necessary, by drafts on the lords of the 
 treasury, to be afterwards laid on the colonies by act of parliament, and paid by the 
 people here; since they might abuse it, by projecting useless expeditions, harassing the 
 people, and taking them from their labor to execute such projects, merely to create offi- 
 ces and employments, and gratify their dependants, and divide profits. 
 
 ' That the parliament of England is at a great distance, subject to be misinformed 
 and misled by such governors and councils, whose united interests might, probably, se- 
 cure them against the effect of any complaint from hence. 
 
 1 That it is supposed an undoubted right of Englishmen, not to be taxed, but by their 
 own consent, given through their representatives ; -that the colonies have no representa- 
 tives in parliament. 
 
 1 That to propose taxing them by parliament, and refuse them the liberty of choosing 
 a representative council, to meet in the colonies, and consider and judge of the necessity 
 of any general tax, and the quantum, shows a suspicion of their loyalty to the crown, 
 or of their regard for their country, or of their common sense and understanding; 
 which they have not deserved. 
 
52 NOTES. BOOK I. 
 
 ' That compelling the colonies to pay money without their consent, would be rather 
 like raising contributions in an enemy's country, than taxing of Englishmen for their 
 own public benefit ; that it would be treating them as a conquered people, and not as 
 true British subjects. 
 
 ' That a tax laid by the representatives of the colonies might be easily lessened as the 
 occasions should lessen ; but being once laid by parliament, under the influence of the 
 representations made by governors, would probably be kept up and continued for the 
 benefit of governors, to the grievous burthen and discontentment of the colonies, and 
 prevention of their growth and increase. 
 
 1 That a power in governors, to march the inhabitants from one end of the British 
 and French colonies to the other, being a country of at least one thousand five hundred 
 miles long, without the approbation or the consent of their representatives first obtained, 
 to such expeditions, might be grievous and ruinous to the people, and would put. them 
 upon a footing with the subjects of France in Canada, that now groan under such op- 
 pression from their governor, wiio, for two years past, has harassed them with long and 
 destructive marches to Ohio. 
 
 ' That if the colonies, in a body, may be well governed by governors and councils 
 appointed by the crown, without representatives, particular colonies may as well, or bet- 
 ter, be so governed ; a tax may be laid upon them all by act of parliament, for support 
 of government ; and their assemblies may be dismissed as an useless part of the con- 
 stitution. 
 
 ' That the powers proposed by the Albany plan of union, to be vested in a grand 
 council representative of the people, even with regard to military matters, are not so 
 great as those which the colonies of Rhode Island and Connecticut are entrusted with 
 by their charters, and have never abused; for by this plan, the president-general is ap- 
 pointed by the crown, and controls all by his negative ; but in those governments, the 
 people choose the governor, and yet allow him no negative. 
 
 ' That the British colonies bordering on the French, are frontiers of the British em- 
 pire ; and the frontiers of an empire are properly defended at the joint expense of the 
 body of the people in such empire ; it would now be thought hard, by act of parliament, 
 to oblige the Cinque Ports, or sea coasts of Britain, to maintain the whole navy, because 
 they are more immediately defended by it, not allowing them, at the same time, a vote 
 in choosjng members of parliament ; and as the frontiers of America bear the expense 
 of their own defence, it seems hard to allow them no share in voting the money, judging 
 of the necessity of the sum, or advising the measures. 
 
 { That besides the taxes necessary for the defence of the frontiers, the colonies pay 
 yearly great sums to the mother country unnoticed ; for, 
 
 1. Taxes paid in Britain by the land-holder, or artificer, must enter into and increase 
 the price of the produce of land and manufactures made of it, and great part of this 
 is paid by consumers in the colonies, who thereby pay a considerable part of the British 
 taxes. 
 
 2. We are restrained in our trade with foreign nations ; and where we could be sup- 
 plied with any manufacture cheaper from them, but must buy the same dearer from 
 Britain, the difference of price is a clear tax to Britain. 
 
 3. We are obliged to carry a part of our produce directly to Britain ; and when the 
 duties laid upon it lessen its price to the planter, or it sells for less than it would in fo- 
 reign markets, the difference is a tax paid to Britain. 
 
 4. Some manufactures we could make, but are forbidden, and must take them of 
 British merchants ; the whole price is a tax paid to Britain. 
 
 5. By our greatly increasing demand and consumption of British manufactures, their 
 price is considerably raised of late years; the advantage is clear profit to Britain, and 
 enables its people better to pay great taxes ; and much of it being paid by us, is clear 
 tax to Britain. 
 
 6. In short, as we are not suffered to regulate our trade, and restrain the importation 
 and consumption of British superfluities, as Britain can the consumption of foreign su- 
 perfluities, our whole wealth centers finally amongst the merchants and inhabitants of 
 Britain ; and if we make them richer, and enable them better to pay their taxes, it is 
 nearly the same as being taxed ourselves, and equally beneficial to the crown. 
 
 ' These kind of secondary taxes, however, we do not complain of though we have 
 no share in laying or disposing of them ; but to pay immediate heavy taxes, in the lay- 
 ing, appropriation, and disposition of which, we have no part, and which, perhaps, we 
 may know to be as unnecessary as grievous, must seem hard measures to Englishmen, 
 who cannot conceive, that by hazarding their lives and fortunes in subduing and settling 
 new countries, extending the dominion, and increasing the commerce of the mother 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 NOTES. 53 
 
 nation, they have forfeited the native rights of Britons, which they think ought rather 
 to be given to them as due to such merit, if they had been before in a state of slavery. 
 
 ' These, and such kinds of things as these, I apprehend, will be thought and said by 
 the people, if the proposed alteration of the Albany plan should take place. Then the 
 administration of the board of governors and council so appointed, not having the 
 representative body of the people to approve and unite in its measures, and conciliate 
 the minds of the people to them, will probably become suspected and odious ; danger- 
 ous animosities and feuds will arise between the governors and governed, and every 
 thing' go into confusion.' 
 
 This was the letter of Franklin. 
 
 NOTE II. PAGE 43. 
 
 STAMP ACT. 
 
 WHEREAS, by an act made in the last session of Parliament, several duties were 
 granted, continued, and appropriated towards defraying the expenses of defending, 
 protecting, and securing the British colonies and plantations in America : and whereas 
 it is first necessary, that provision be made for raising a further revenue within your 
 majesty's dominions in America, towards defraying the said expenses ; we, your majes- 
 ty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, the Commons of Great Britain, in parliament 
 assembled, have therefore resolved to give and grant unto your majesty the several rites 
 and duties hereinafter mentioned ; and do most humbly beseech your majesty that it 
 may be enacted, And be it enacted by the king's most excellent majesty, by and with 
 the advise and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons, in this pre- 
 sent parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, That from and after the 
 first day of November, one thousand seven hundred and sixty -five, there shall be raised, 
 levied, collected, and paid unto his majesty, his heirs, and successors, throughout the 
 colonies and plantations in America, which now are, or hereafter may be, under the 
 dominion of his majesty, his heirs and successors, 
 
 1. For every skin of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on which shall 
 be engrossed, written, or printed, any declaration, plea, replication, rejoinder, demurrer, 
 or other pleading, or any copy thereof, in any court of law within the British colonies 
 and plantations in America, a stamp duty of three pence. 
 
 2. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any special bail, and appearance upon 
 such bail in any such court, a stamp duty of two shillings. 
 
 3. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which may be engrossed, written or printed, any petition, bill, or answer, claim, pica, 
 replication, rejoinder, demurrer, or other pleading in any court of chancery or equity 
 within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of one shilling and six pence. 
 
 4. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any copy of any petition, bill, answer, 
 claim, plea, replication, rejoinder, demurrer, or other pleading, in any such court, a 
 stamp duty of three pence. 
 
 ' 5. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any monition, libel, answer, allegation, 
 inventory, or renunciation, in ecclesiastical matters, in any court of probate, court of 
 the ordinary, orjother court exercising ecclesiastical jurisdiction within the said colonies 
 and plantations, a stamp duty of one shilling. 
 
 6. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any copy of any will, (other than the pro- 
 bate thereof,) monition, libel, answer, allegation, inventory, or renunciation, in ecclesi- 
 astical matters, in any such court, a stamp duty of six pence. 
 
 7. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any donation, presentation, collation or 
 institution, of or to any benefice, or any writ or instrument for the like purpose, or any 
 register, entry, testimonial, or certificate of any degree taken in any university, academy, 
 college, or seminary of learning, within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty 
 of two pounds. 
 
54 NOTES. BOOK I. 
 
 8. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, auy monition, libel, claim, answer, allega- 
 tion, information, letter of request, execution, renunciation, inventory, or other pleading 
 in any admiralty court within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of one 
 shilling. 
 
 9. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which any copy of any such monition, libel, claim, answer, allegation, information, letter 
 of request, execution, renunciation, inventory, or other pleading shall be engrossed, 
 written or printed, a stamp duty of six pence. 
 
 10. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any appeal, writ of error, writ of dower, 
 ad quad damnum, certiorari, statute merchant, statute staple, attestation, or certificate, 
 by any officer, or exemplification of any record or proceeding, in any court whatsoever 
 within the said colonies and plantations, (except appeals, writs of 4 error, certiorari, 
 attestations, certificates, and exemplifications, for, or relating to the removal of any 
 proceedings from before a single justice of the peace,) a stamp duty of ten shillings. 
 
 11. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any writ of covenant for levying fines, 
 writ of entry for suffering a common recovery, or attachment issuing out of, or returnable 
 into any court within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of Jive shillings. 
 
 12. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any judgment, decree, or sentence, or dis- 
 mission, or any record of nisi prius or postea, in any court within the said colonies and 
 plantations, a stamp duty of four shillings. 
 
 13. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any affidavit, common bail, or appearance, 
 interrogatory, deposition, rule, order or warrant of any court, or any dedimus potestatem, 
 capias subpcena, summons, compulsory citation, commission, recognisance, or any other 
 writ, process, or mandate, issuing out of, or returnable into, any court, or any office 
 belonging thereto, or any other proceeding therein whatsoever, or any copy thereof, or 
 of any record not herein before charged, within the said colonies and plantations, (ex- 
 cept warrants relating to criminal matters, and proceedings thereon, or relating thereto) 
 a stamp duty of one shilling. 
 
 14. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any note or bill of lading, which shall be 
 signed for any kind of goods, wares, or merchandise, to be exported from, or any 
 cocket or clearance granted within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of 
 four pence. 
 
 15. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, letters of mart or commission for private 
 ships of war, within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of twenty shillings. 
 
 16. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any grant, appointment, or admission of 
 or to any public beneficial office or employment, for the space of one year, or any lesser 
 time, of or above twenty pounds per annum sterling money, in salary, fees, and perqui- 
 sites, within the said colonies and plantations, (except commissions and appointments 
 of officers of the army, navy, ordnance, or militia, of judges, and of justices of the 
 peace) a stamp duty of ten shillings. 
 
 17. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which any grant of any liberty, privilege, or franchise, under the seal or sign manual, of 
 any governor, proprietor, or public officer, alone, or in conjunction with any other per- 
 son or persons, or with any council, or any council and assembly, or any exemplification 
 of the same, shall be engrossed written, or printed, within the said colonies and planta- 
 tions, a stamp duty of six pounds. 
 
 18. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any license for retailing of spirituous 
 liquors, to be granted to any person who shall take out the same, within the said colo- 
 nies and plantations, a stamp duty of twenty shillings. 
 
 19. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any license for retailing of wine, to be 
 granted to any person who shall not take out a license for retailing of spirituous liquors, 
 within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of four pounds. 
 
 20. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any license for retailing of wine, to be 
 granted to any person who shall take out a license for retailing of spirituous liquors, 
 within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of three pounds. 
 
BOOK I. NOTES. 55 
 
 21. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall, be engrossed, written, or printed, any probate of will, letters of administra- 
 tion, or of guardianship lor any estate above the value of twenty pounds sterling money, 
 within the British colonies and plantations upon the continent of America, the islands 
 belonging thereto, and the Bermuda and Bahama islands, a stamp duty of five shil- 
 lings. 
 
 22. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such probate, letters of administration 
 or of guardianship, within all other parts of the British dominions in America, a stamp 
 duty of ten shillings. 
 
 23. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any bond for securing the payment of any 
 sum of money, not exceeding the sum of ten pounds sterling money, within the British 
 colonies and plantations upon the continent of America, the islands belonging thereto, 
 and the Bermuda and Bahama islands, a stamp duty of six pence. 
 
 24. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any bond for securing the payment of any 
 sum of money above ten pounds, and not exceeding twenty pounds sterling money, 
 within such colonies, plantations, and islands, a stamp duty of one shilling. 
 
 25. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any bond for securing the payment of any 
 sum of money above twenty pounds, and not exceeding forty pounds sterling money, 
 within such colonies, plantations, and islands, a stamp duty of one shilling and six 
 pence. 
 
 26. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any order or warrant for surveying or 
 setting out any quantity of land, not exceeding one hundred acres, issued by any go- 
 vernor, proprietor, or any public officer, alone, or in conjunction with any other person 
 or persons, or with any council, or any council and assembly, within the British colonies 
 and plantations in America, a stamp duty of six pence. 
 
 27. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such order or warrant for surveying 
 or setting out any quantity of land above one hundred and not exceeding two hundred 
 acres, within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of one shilling. 
 
 28. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such order or warrant, for surveying 
 or setting out any quantity of land above two hundred and not exceeding three hundred 
 and twenty acres, and in proportion for every such order or warrant for surveying or 
 setting out every other three hundred and twenty acres, within the said colonies and 
 plantations, a stamp duty of one shilling and six pence. 
 
 29. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any original grant or any deed, mesne 
 conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of land, not exceed- 
 ing one hundred acres, shall be granted, conveyed, or assigned, within the British colo- 
 nies and plantations upon the continent of America, the islands belonging thereto, and 
 the Bermuda and Bahama islands (except leases for any term not exceeding the term of 
 twenty-one years) a stamp duty of one shilling and six pence. 
 
 30. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such original grant, or any such deed, 
 mesne conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of land, 
 above one hundred and not exceeding two hundred acres, shall be granted, conveyed, 
 or assigned, within such colonies, plantations and islands, a stamp duty of two shillings. 
 
 31. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such original grant, or any such deed, 
 mesne conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of land, 
 above two hundred, and not exceeding three hundred and twenty acres, shall be granted, 
 conveyed, or assigned, and in proportion for every such grant, deed, mesne conveyance, 
 or other instrument, granting, conveying, or assigning, every other three hundred and 
 twenty acres, within such colonies, plantations and islands, a stamp duty of two shillings 
 and six pence. 
 
 32. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such original grant, or any such deed, 
 mesne conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of land, not 
 exceeding one hundred acres, shall be granted, conveyed, or assigned, within all other 
 parts of the British dominions in America, a stamp duty of three shillings. 
 
56 NOTES. BOOK 1. 
 
 33. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such original grant, or any such 
 deed, mesne conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of 
 land, above one hundred and not exceeding two hundred acres, shall be granted, con- 
 veyed, or assigned, within the same parts of the said dominions, a stamp duty of four 
 shillings. 
 
 34. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such original grant, or any such 
 deed, mesne conveyance, or other instrument whatsoever, by which any quantity of 
 land, above two hundred and not exceeding three hundred and twenty acres, shall be 
 granted, conveyed, or assigned, and in proportion for every such grant, deed, mesne 
 conveyance, or other instrument, granting, conveying, or assigning every other three 
 hundred and twenty acres, within the same parts of the said dominions, a stamp duty 
 of Jive shillings. 
 
 35. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written or printed, any grant, appointment, or admission, of 
 or to any beneficial office or employment, not herein before charged, above the value of 
 twenty pounds per annum sterling money, in salary, fees, and perquisites, or any exem- 
 plification of the same, within the British colonies and plantations upon the continent 
 of America, the islands belonging thereto, and the Bermuda and Bahama islands, (ex- 
 cept commissions of officers of the army, navy, ordnance, or militia, and of justices of 
 the peace) a stamp duty of four pounds. 
 
 36. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of "paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any such grant, appointment, or admis- 
 sion, of or to any such public beneficial office or employment, or any exemplification of 
 the same, within all other parts of the British dominions in America, a stamp duty of 
 six pounds. 
 
 37. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any indenture, lease, conveyance, con- 
 tract, stipulation, bill of sale, charter party, protest, articles of apprenticeship or cove- 
 nant, (except for the hire of servants not apprentices, and also except such other matters 
 as herein before charged) within the British colonies and plantations in America, a stamp 
 duty of two shillings and six pence. 
 
 38. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which any warrant or order for auditing any public accounts, beneficial warrant, order, 
 grant, or certificate, under any public seal, or under the seal or sign manual of any go- 
 vernor, proprietor, or public officer, alone, or in conjunction with any other person or 
 persons, or with any council, or any council and assembly, not herein before charged, 
 or any passport or letpass, surrender of office, or policy of assurance, shall be engrossed, 
 written, or printed, within the said colonies and plantations, (except warrants or orders 
 for the service of the army, navy, ordnance, or militia, and grants of offices under twenty 
 pounds per annum, in salary, fees, and perquisites) a stamp duty of Jive shillings. 
 
 39. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any noctarial act, bond, deed, letter of 
 attorney, procuration, mortgage, release, or other obligatory instrument, not herein be- 
 fore charged, within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of two shillings and 
 three pence. 
 
 ^ 40. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any register, entry, or enrolment of any 
 grant, deed, or other instrument whatsoever, herein before charged, within the said 
 colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of three pence. 
 
 41. For every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which shall be engrossed, written, or printed, any register, entry, or enrolment of any 
 grant, deed, or other instrument whatsoever, not herein before charged, within the said 
 colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of two shillings. 
 
 42. And for and upon every pack of playing cards, and all dice, which shall be sold 
 or used within the said colonies and plantations, the several stamp duties following ; 
 (that is to say) 
 
 43. For every pack of such cards, one shilling. 
 
 44. And for every pair of such dice, ten shillings. 
 
 45. And for and upon every paper called a pamphlet, and upon every newspaper, 
 containing public news, or occurrences, which shall be printed, dispersed, and made 
 public, within any of -the said colonies and plantations, and for and upon such adver- 
 tisements as are hereinafter mentioned, the respective duties following ; (that is to 
 say) 
 
BOOK I. NOTES. 57 
 
 46. For every such pamphlet and paper, contained in a half sheet, or any lesser piece 
 of paper, which shall be so printed, a stamp duty of one half-penny for every printed 
 copy thereof. 
 
 47. For every such pamphlet and paper, (being larger than half a sheet, and not ex- 
 ceeding one whole sheet) which shall be so printed, a stamp duty of one penny for every 
 printed copy thereof. 
 
 48. For every pamphlet and paper, being larger than one whole sheet, and not ex- 
 ceeding six sheets in octavo, or in a lesser page, or not exceeding twelve sheets in 
 quarto, or twenty sheets in folio, which shall be so printed, a duty after the rate of one 
 shilling for every sheet of any kind of paper which shall be contained in one printed 
 copy thereof. 
 
 49. For every advertisement to be contained in any gazette, newspaper, or other 
 paper, or any pamphlet which shall be so printed, a duty of two shillings. 
 
 50. For every almanac, or calendar, for any one particular year, or for any time less 
 than a year, which shall be written or printed on one side only of any one sheet, skin, or 
 piece of paper, parchment, or vellum, within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp 
 duty of two pence. 
 
 51. For every other almanac, or calendar, for any one particular year, which shall be 
 written or printed within the said colonies and plantations, a stamp duty of four pence. 
 
 52. And for every almanac or calendar, written or printed in the said colonies and 
 plantations, to serve for several years, duties to the same amount respectively shall be 
 paid for every such year. 
 
 53. For .every skin or piece of vellum or parchment, or sheet or piece of paper, on 
 which any instrument, proceeding, or other matter or thing aforesaid, shall be engrossed, 
 written, or printed, within the said colonies and plantations, in any other than the En- 
 glish language, a stamp duty of double the amount of the respective duties before 
 charged thereon. 
 
 54. And there shall be also paid, in the said colonies and plantations, a duty of six 
 pence for every twenty shillings, in any sum not exceeding fifty pounds sterling money, 
 which shall be given, paid, contracted, or agreed for, with or in relation to any clerk 
 or apprentice, which shall be put or placed to or with any master or mistress, to learn 
 any profession, trade, or employment. II. And also a duty of one shilling for every 
 twenty shillings, in any sum exceeding fifty pounds, which shall be given, paid, con- 
 tracted, or agreed for, with, or in relation to, any such clerk or apprentice. 
 
 55. Finally, the produce of all the aforementioned duties shall be paid into his ma- 
 jesty s treasury ; and there held in reserve, to be used, from time to time, by the par- 
 liament, for the purpose of defraying the expenses necessary for the defence, protection, 
 and security of the said colonies and plantations. [1765. Statutes at Large. Picker- 
 ing's edition. 4, 5, George III. Vol. XXVI. Chap. XII. page 179.] 
 
 TOL. I. 
 
58 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II, 
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 
 1765. IT is difficult to describe the effervescence excited in 
 America, by the news that the stamp act had been adopted in parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 The minister, Grenville, knowing how odious it was to) the Ameri- 
 cans, and foreseeing the tumults it might cause, had endeavored to 
 mitigate its severity, by strictly avoiding to employ, as collectors of 
 the duty, any individuals born in England ; but this precaution 
 proved ineffectual to abate, in the least, the tempest of indignation 
 with which it was received. 
 
 The American gazettes began to be filled with complaints of lost 
 liberty ; the most influential citizens declared openly, that this was 
 a manifest violation of their rights, which proceeded from no tran- 
 sient error of the English government, but from a deliberate design 
 to reduce the colonies to slavery; 'This,' they exclaimed, 'is but 
 the commencement of a system of the most detestable tyranny.' 
 
 Such as opposed the schemes attributed to the government, either 
 to contract a stricter union by a common name, or to render them- 
 selves more agreeable to the people, alluding to the words of colonel 
 Barre in his speech before parliament, aMumed the specious title of 
 sons of liberty. They bound themselves mutually, among other things, 
 to march at their own expense to any part of the continent, where it 
 should be necessary to maintain the English constitution in America, 
 and to use all their efforts to prevent the execution of the stamp act. 
 
 A committee of correspondence was organised, to address circular 
 letters to the principal inhabitants of the country ; exhorting them to 
 adopt the same principles and the same resolutions. These mea- 
 sures gave a powerful activity to the opposition, and to the tumults 
 which soon followed. The people were prepared for insurrection, 
 the moment an occasion, or a signal, should be given them. 
 
 The Virginians, again at this time, were the first to give it. The 
 29th of May, 1765, the house of burgesses of Virginia, upon the 
 motion of George Johnston and Patrick Henry, came to the follow- 
 ing resolutions ; 
 
 4 Whereas the honorable house of commons in England, have of 
 late drawn into question, how far the general assembly of this colony 
 hath power to enact laws for laying taxes and imposing duties, payable 
 by the people of this his majesty's most ancient colony ; for settling 
 and ascertaining the same to all future times, the house of burgesses 
 of this present general assembly, have come to the several following 
 resolutions"; 
 
 1 That the first adventurers and settlers of this his majesty's colony 
 and dominion of Virginia, brought with them and transmitted to their 
 
BOOK II, THE AMERICAN WAR. 59 
 
 posterity, and all other his majesty's subjects since inhabiting in this 
 his majesty's colony, all the privileges and immunities that have at 
 any time been held, enjoyed and possessed by the people of Great 
 Britain. That by the two royal charters granted by James I., the 
 colonists aforesaid, are declared entitled to all privileges of faithful, 
 liege and natural born subjects, to all intents and purposes, as if they 
 had been abiding and born within the realm of England. 
 
 * That his majesty's liege people of this his most ancient colony, 
 have enjoyed the right of being thus governed by their own assembly, 
 in the article of taxes and internal police, and that the same have 
 never been forfeited, or any other way yielded up, but have been 
 constantly recognised by the king and people of Great Britain. 
 
 ' That consequently the general assembly of this colony, together 
 with his majesty, or his substitute, have in their representative capa- 
 city the only exclusive right and power to lay taxes and impositions 
 upon the inhabitants of this colony ; that every attempt to vest such 
 a power in any person or persons whatsoever other than the general 
 assembly aforesaid, is illegal, unconstitutional, and unjust, and has a 
 manifest tendency to destroy British, as well as American freedom. 
 That his majesty's liege people, the inhabitants of this colony, are 
 not bound to yield obedience to any law or ordinance whatsoever, 
 designed to impose any taxation whatsoever upon them, other than 
 the laws and ordinances of this general assembly. That any person 
 who shall by speaking or writing, maintain that any person or per- 
 sons, other than the general assembly of this colony, have any right 
 or power to impose or lay any taxation whatsoever upon this people, 
 shall be deemed an enemy to this his majesty's colony.' 
 
 These resolutions were passed 9n this day, by an immense ma- 
 jority ; but the day following, the assembly being more full, as many 
 of the older and more prudent citizens attended, the subject was re- 
 considered ; and by their influence and representations, the two last 
 articles were retrenched. M. Fauquier, the lieutenant-governor, 
 being informed of these debates, dissolved the assembly ; but this 
 measure had little success, for when the new elections took place, 
 those who did not assent to the resolutions were excluded, and all 
 those who did were re-elected. Meanwhile, the resolutions circulated 
 from hand to hand, not as they had been modified, but in their origi- 
 nal form. 
 
 The members of the confederacy, called the sons of liberty, were 
 especially active in communicating them from one to another, and in 
 a short time they were dispersed every where, and every where pe- 
 rused and reperused with equal avidity and enthusiasm. 
 
 But in New England, and particularly in the province of Massa- 
 chusetts, the warm advocates of American privileges were not con- 
 tent with these marks of approbation, but to propagate them the more 
 rapidly among all classes of people, caused them to be printed in the 
 
60 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 public journals, which was the principal occasion of the tumults that 
 shortly ensued. 
 
 Very early on Wednesday morning the 14th of August, and it is 
 believed at the instigation of John Avery, Thomas Crafts, John 
 Smith, Henry Welles, Thomas Chase, Stephen Cleverling, Henry 
 Bass, and Benjamin Edes, all individuals extremely opposed to the 
 pretensions of England, and zealous partisans of innovation, two effi- 
 gies were discovered hanging on a branch of an old elm, near the 
 southern entrance of Boston, one of which, according to the label 
 that was attached to it, represented a stamp officer, the other a jack- 
 boot, out of which rose a horned head, which appeared to look 
 around. This spectacle attracted the curious multitude, not only 
 from the city, but as the rumor spread, from all the adjacent 
 country. 
 
 As the crowd increased, their minds, already but too much heated, 
 were inspired with a spirit of enthusiasm by this strange exhibition, 
 and the day was immediately devoted to recreation. About dusk, 
 the images were detached from the tree, placed on a bier, and car- 
 ried in procession with great solemnity. The people followed, 
 stamping, and shouting from all quarters, ' liberty and property for- 
 ever no stamp.' Having passed through the town house, they 
 proceeded with their pageantry down King street, and into Kilby 
 street ; when arrived in front, of a house owned by one Oliver, which 
 they supposed was designed for a stamp office, they halted, and 
 without further ceremony, demolished it to the foundations. Bear- 
 ing off, as it were in triumph, the wood of the ruined house, with con- 
 tinually increasing shouts and tumult, they proceeded to the dwelling 
 of Oliver himself, and there having beheaded his effigy, broke all his 
 windows in an instant. Continuing to support the two figures in 
 procession, they ascended to the summit of Fort hill, where kindling 
 with their trophies a bonfire, they burnt one of them, amidst peals of 
 universal acclamation. Not satisfied with this, the populace returned to 
 the house of Oliver with clubs and staves ; the garden, fences, and all 
 the dependencies of the edifice were destroyed. Oliver had fled, 
 to avoid the popular fury, leaving only a few "friends to use their dis- 
 cretion, for the prevention of further damage. But some impru- 
 dent words of theirs having exasperated the rage of the multitude, 
 they broke open the doors, entered the lower part of the house, and 
 destroyed the furniture of every description. At midnight they 
 disbanded. The next day, Oliver finding himself thus the object of 
 public detestation, and apprehensive of a second visit, notified the 
 principal citizens that he had written to England, requesting the 
 liberty of being excused from the office of distributor of stamps. In 
 the evening, the people re-assembled, erected a pyramid, intending 
 another bonfire, but upon hearing of Oliver's resignation, they de- 
 sisted, and repaired to the front of his house, gave three cheei.3, and 
 took their departure without damage. 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 61 
 
 Meanwhile, a rumor having got abroad, that Hutchinson, the lieu- 
 tenant-governor, had written to England in favor of the stamp duties, 
 the multitude immediately repaired to his house, and could not be 
 persuaded to retire till they were assured, that this gentleman had 
 even written to dissuade from the bill. Upon which their cries of 
 rage were followed by shouts of acclamation ; they kindled a bonfire, 
 and quietly returned to their respective habitations. But far more 
 serious were the disorders of the 26th of the same month. Some 
 boys were playing around a fire they had kindled in King street ; 
 the fire ward coming to extinguish it, he was whispered, by a person 
 unknown, to desist, which he not regarding, received a blow on his 
 arm, and such other marks of displeasure, as obliged him to withdraw. 
 Meanwhile, a particular whistle was heard from several quarters, 
 which was followed by innumerable cries of * Sirrah ! Sirrah !' 
 At this signal advanced a long train of persons disguised, armed 
 with clubs and bludgeons, who proceeded to invest the house of 
 Paxton, marshal of the court of admiralty, and superintendent of the 
 port, who had time to escape ; and, at the invitation of the steward,* 
 the assailants accompanied him to the tavern, were pacified, and the 
 house was spared. But their repeated libations having renewed 
 their frenzy, they sallied forth, and assaulted the house of William 
 Story, register of the vice-admiralty, opposite the court-house, the 
 lower part of which, being his office, they broke open, seized and 
 committed to the flames the files and public records of that court, 
 and then destroyed the furniture of the house. Nor did the riot end 
 here. The mob, continually increasing in numbers and intoxication, 
 stimulated by the havoc already committed, rushed onwards to the 
 house of Benjamin Hallowell, collector of the customs, the furniture 
 of which they soon destroyed. They renewed their potations, in the 
 cellar ; and what they were unable to drink, they wasted ; they 
 searched every corner, and carried off about thirty pounds sterling 
 in money. They are joined by fresh bands. In a state bordering 
 on madness, they proceed to the residence of Hutchinson, the lieu- 
 tenant-governor, about ten o'clock at night ; they invest it, and em- 
 ploy every means to enter it by violence. After having sent his 
 children, as yet of tender age, to a place of safety, he barricaded his 
 doors and windows, and seemed determined to remain ; but, unable 
 to resist the fury of the assailants, he was constrained to quit the 
 place, and take refuge in another house, where he remained con- 
 cealed till four in the morning. Meantime, his mansion, perhaps the 
 most magnificent and the best furnished house in the colony, was 
 devoted to ruin and pillage. The plate, the pictures, the furniture 
 of every kind, even to the apparel of the governor, were carried off, 
 
 * Paxton was only a tenant ; the owner of the house, T. Palmer, Esq., gave the en- 
 tertainment. 
 
62 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK H- 
 
 besides nine hundred pounds sterling in specie. Not content with 
 this, they dispersed or destroyed all the manuscripts which the go- 
 vernor had been thirty years in collecting, as well as papers, relating 
 to the public service, deposited in his house ; an immense, and irre- 
 parable loss. 
 
 It appears that Hutchinson had become the object of a hatred so 
 universal, because he was accused of having been accessary in lay- 
 ing on the stamp duties; which imputation, however, was absolutely 
 false ; for it is ascertained, on the contrary, that he had always op- 
 posed that measure, in his letters to the government. Hence it is 
 seen how erroneous are often popular opinions ; and that those who 
 govern should propose to themselves a nobler object, in the perform- 
 ance of their duty, than that of pleasing the multitude, who are more 
 often found to fawn upon their oppressors, than to applaud their be- 
 nefactors. 
 
 The next morning was the time for holding the assize and the su- 
 preme court of judicature. Hutchinson, who was its president, was 
 obliged to appear on the bench in the dress of a private citizen, 
 while the other judges, and the gentlemen of the bar, were in their 
 respective robes. This contrast was observed with grief and pity by 
 the spectators. The court, to evince with what indignation they re- 
 ceived the affront they haoLsustained.in the person of their president, 
 and how much they detested the scenes of anarchy which the pre- 
 ceding day had witnessed, resolved to abstain from all exercise of their 
 functions, and adjourned to the 15th of October. 
 
 Some individuals, who had been apprehended, refusing to de- 
 nounce the authors of the tumult, were committed to prison ; but 
 one of them effected his escape, and the rest were released soon 
 after ; for it was seen distinctly, that the people were not disposed to 
 tolerate any further proceedings against the delinquents. 
 
 Meanwhile, the principal citizens, either from a real detestation of 
 the excesses committed by the rioters, or perceiving that such out- 
 rages must infallibly injure a cause they considered just, were very 
 strenuous to distinguish this tumultuous conduct from a truly noble 
 opposition, as they called it, to the imposition of internal taxes by 
 authority of parliament. They assembled, in consequence, at Fa- 
 neuil Hall, a place destined for public meetings, in order to declare 
 solemnly how much they abhorred the extraordinary and violent pro- 
 ceedings of unknown persons, the preceding night; and voted, una- 
 nimously, that the selectmen and magistrates of the city be desired 
 to use their utmost endeavors, agreeable to law, to suppress such dis- 
 orders for the future ; and that the freeholders and other inhabitants, 
 would do every thing in their power to assist them therein. 
 
 The next day, a proclamation was published by the governor, of- 
 fering a reward of three hundred pounds for the discovery of any of 
 the ringleaders, and one hundred pounds for any of the other per- 
 
BOOK H. THE AMERICAN WAR. 63 
 
 sons concerned in that tumult. The tranquillity of the city was re- 
 stored, and preserved by a nightly military watch. 
 
 But the disorders were not confined to the limits of the city of 
 Boston, or the province of Massachusetts. They also broke out in 
 many other places, and almost at the same time ; which renders it 
 probable that they had been previously concerted between the inha- 
 bitants of the different provinces. On Tuesday, the 27th of August, 
 about nine o'clock in the morning, the people of Newport, in Rhode 
 Island, began to manifest their agitation, by bringing forth, in a cart, 
 three images, intended as the effigies of Martin Howard, Thomas 
 Moffatt, and Augustin Johnston, with halters about their necks, to a 
 gallows placed near the town-house, where they were hung to public 
 view, till near night, when they were cut down, and burnt, amidst the 
 acclamations of the multitude. 
 
 The following day, having probably received the news of what had 
 taken place in Boston, they assembled again, and beset the house of 
 Martin Howard, a celebrated advocate, who had written with great 
 zeal in favor of the rights of parliament. All was plundered or de- 
 stroyed, except the walls. Thomas Moffatt, a physician, maintained 
 the same opinions, in all societies ; his house was pillaged, also, in a 
 moment. Both fled, and took shelter on board an English ship of 
 war, at anchor in the port ; and soon after, believing it no longer safe 
 to remain in the country, departed for Great Britain. The popu- 
 lace proceeded towards the house of Johnston, prepared to commit 
 the same disorders ; but were met, and parleyed with, by a gentle- 
 man, who persuaded them to desist and disperse. 
 
 At Providence, the principal city of Rhode Island, a gazette extra- 
 ordinary was published, on the 24th of August, with 'Vox POPULI, 
 Vox DEI,' in large letters, for the frontispiece ; and underneath, 
 * Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. St. Paul.' It 
 congratulated the people of New England, on the glorious accounts, 
 from all parts, of the laudable commotions of the people in the cause 
 of liberty ; and on the lawful measures adopted to prevent the exe- 
 cution of the stamp act, not hesitating to treat as such these blame- 
 able excesses of the populace. The writers extolled to the skies the 
 zeal of the Bostonians, who, they said, had not degenerated from their 
 fathers, but had preserved entire that spirit of freedom which had 
 already rendered them so celebrated throughout the world. Pasqui- 
 nades, farces, satires, and popular railleries were not spared, in the 
 public prints. The effigies of such as were the objects of popular 
 displeasure, were dragged, with halters about their necks, through the 
 streets, hung to gibbets, and afterwards burnt. 
 
 In Connecticut, Ingersoll, the principal stamp officer, having ap- 
 pointed for his deputy an inhabitant of Wyndharn, wrote him to come 
 and receive his commission at New Haven. The inhabitants of 
 Wyndham, on hearing of this, demanded the letter of Ingersoll, and 
 
64 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II* 
 
 warned him not to accept the office ; which, preferring the less evil, 
 he consented to renounce. Ingersoll himself was reduced to the 
 same extremity, at New Haven. He wrote a letter, which was after- 
 wards published, in which he declared, that since the inhabitants had 
 such an aversion to stamped paper, he would not compel them to 
 use it. He hoped, however, that if they should change their minds 
 on further consideration, or from a conviction of necessity, they 
 would receive it from him. This declaration was much applauded ; 
 but the people having conceived new suspicions of his sincerity, they 
 surrounded his house, and he was informed that he must decide im- 
 mediately, either for or against the resignation of his office. He an- 
 swered, that this choice was not in his power. They next demanded, 
 whether, when the stamped paper arrived, he would deliver it to them, 
 to make a bonfire ? Or have his house pulled down? He then re- 
 plied, and with evident reluctance, that when the stamps arrived he 
 would either reship them to be sent back ; or when they were in his 
 house, he would leave his doors open, that they might then act as 
 they thought proper. 
 
 Similar tumults also took place in the town of Norwich, and that 
 of Lebanon ; but in the latter, the ceremony of a mock trial was 
 added, by which the effigies were condemned, in due form, to be 
 hung and burnt. 
 
 The next morning the same scenes were repeated, with the excep- 
 tion of the trial ; but the deputy collector of the stamp duty had al- 
 ready resigned. 
 
 In New Hampshire, Messerve, another stamp officer, was compell- 
 ed by the multitude to renounce the exercise of his functions. In 
 Maryland, Flood, principal distributor of stamped paper, was me- 
 naced in his property if he refused to resign ; he fled for refuge first 
 to New York, and afterwards to Lbng Island. But the multitude 
 having unexpectedly crossed the strait, constrained him not only to 
 renounce his employment, but to confirm his resignation upon oath, 
 before a magistrate. 
 
 At New York, the stamp act was held in such contempt, that it 
 was printed and cried through the country as the Folly of England 
 and Ruin of America. The stamp officers in this quarter perceived 
 they could not resign too promptly. Similar scenes took place in the 
 other American provinces. 
 
 To foment the general excitement, and encourage the people to 
 persevere in the opposition commenced, their leaders took care to 
 multiply satirical pamphlets and pasquinades ; epigrams and popular 
 jests were incessant in the public prints. At Boston, among others, a 
 newspaper was published, under the following title ; c The Constitu- 
 tional Courant ; containing matters interesting to Liberty, and no wise 
 repugnant to Loyalty.' The frontispiece represented a serpent, cut 
 into eight pieces ; on the part of the head, were the initial letters of 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 65 
 
 New England ; and on that of the body, the initials of the other 
 colonies, as far as South Carolina ; and over it * JOIN OR DIE,' in 
 large letters. 
 
 In many places, the advocates, attornies and notaries, held meet- 
 ings, in which the query was proposed, Whether, when the stamps 
 should arrive, and the day prefixed for using them, they would agree 
 to purchase stamped paper for their legal writings ? The negative 
 was decided unanimously : they protested, however, in strong terms, 
 against all riotous and indecent behavior, and pledged themselves to- 
 discountenance it, by every means in their power ; their sole inten- 
 tion being, by the refusal of the stamps, and other quiet methods, to 
 endeavor to procure the repeal of the law. 
 
 The justices of the peace for the district of Westmoreland, in Vir- 
 ginia, published, that, on account of the stamp act, they had discon- 
 tinued their functions ; unwilling, they said, to become instruments 
 of the destruction of the most essential rights, and of the liberty of 
 their country. 
 
 Thus, while the frantic populace rushed headlong into the most 
 odious excesses, men of reputation only testified their resistance by 
 moderate acts, but not less, and perhaps even more, efficacious, to 
 obtain the repeal of a law they abhorred, and to re-establish Ameri- 
 can liberty. Thus, the spirit of independence, originating at first in 
 Virginia and Massachusetts, was progressively propagated in the 
 other provinces ; and passed from the populace to the middle classes, 
 anij from these to the most eminent citizens. 
 
 Meanwhile, the time drew nigh, when the stamped paper destined 
 for America was expected to arrive from England ; and the day was 
 no longer distant, when, by the terms of the law, the stamp act was 
 to go into effect : it was the first of November. 
 
 The Americans already viewed it as a day of sinister presage, and 
 the harbinger of future calamities to their country. On the 5th of 
 October, the ships which brought the stamps, appeared in sight of 
 Philadelphia, near Gloucester Point. Immediately, all the vessels 
 in the harbor hoisted their colors half-staff high ; the bells were 
 muffled ; and lolled for the rest of the day ; and every thing appear- 
 ed to denote the most profound and universal mourning. At four 
 in the afternoon, several thousands of citizens met at the State-House, 
 to consult on proper measures to prevent the execution of the stamp 
 act. Upon the motion of William Allen, son of the president of the 
 court of justice, it was agreed to send a deputation to John Hughes, 
 principal officer of the stamps for the province, to request he would 
 resign his office ; to which, after long resistance, and with extreme 
 reluctance, he at length consented. 
 
 The tumult continued many days ; during which Hughes was ac- 
 tive in barricading his house, and securing the succours of his friends, 
 apprehensive, notwithstanding his resignation, of being attacked every 
 VOL. i. 9 
 
66 THE AMERICAN VVAfe. BOOK II. 
 
 moment. Amidst this general effervescence, the qnakers, who are 
 very numerous in Philadelphia, maintained a perfect calm, and ap- 
 peared disposed to submit to the stamp act. The same also was the 
 conduct of the Episcopal clergy ; but they were few in number. 
 
 The stamped paper arrived at Boston the I Oth of September. 
 The governor immediately wrote to the assembly of representatives, 
 requesting their advice, Oliver having resigned his office. The as- 
 sembly replied, that this affair was not within their competency ; and 
 therefore the governor, they hoped, would excuse them, if they 
 could not see their way clear, to give him either advice or assistance. 
 The representatives thus avoided the snare, and left the governor 
 alone, to extricate himself as he could. He finally caused the bales 
 of stamped paper to be lodged in the castle, where they could be 
 defended, if necessary, by the artillery. 
 
 But on the first of November, at dawn of day, all the bells of 
 Boston sounded the funeral knell. Two figures, of immense pro- 
 portions, were found suspended on the elm, of which' we have spoken 
 before. This tree, since the date of the first tumults, had acquired 
 the name of ' the tree of liberty.' Under its shade the patriots as- 
 sembled to confer upon their affairs ; and thence arose the custom 
 of planting, in every town, or naming those already planted, trees of 
 liberty. The Bostonians poured into the streets in throngs, and all 
 was uproar. At three in the afternoon, the two effigies were detach- 
 ed from the tree, in the midst of universal acclamations, carried round 
 the city, hung to a gallows, and afterwards cut in pieces, and thrown 
 to the winds. This executed, the people withdrew to their habita- 
 tions, and tranquillity seemed re-established. But the agitators, soon 
 after, proceeded to a highly blameable excess. Oliver, who had 
 long since resigned his employment, was dragged with violence to 
 the foot of the tree of liberty, through the tumultuous crowd, and 
 there compelled, a second time, to renounce upon oath ; as if any 
 importance could be attached to these oaths, extorted by coercion ! 
 They attest the tyranny of those who exact them, not the will of him 
 that takes them. 
 
 In many places, over the doors of the public offices, was seen this 
 inscription : ' Let him that shall first distribute or employ stamped 
 paper, look well to his house, his person, and his furniture. Vox 
 POPULI.' The people went armed ; the friends of stamps were 
 intimidated. 
 
 Nor less serious were the disorders in the city of New York. The 
 stamped paper arrived there, about the last of October. Mac Ever, 
 who had been appointed distributor, having resigned the office, the 
 lieutenant-governor, Golden, a person little agreeable to the multi- 
 tude, on account of his political opinions, caused the paper to be 
 lodged in fort George ; and having taken some precautions for its 
 security, the people began to suspect some sinister intention on his 
 part. 
 
BOOK 11. THE AMERICAN WAR. 67 
 
 In consequence, on the 1st of November, towards evening, ilie 
 populace assembled iu great numbers, and rushed furiously to the 
 citadel. The governor's stables were forced, his coach taken out, 
 and drawn in triumph through the principal streets of the city. A 
 gallows having been erected in the grand square, the effigy of the 
 lieutenant-governor was there hung, with a sheet of stamped paper 
 in the right hand, and the figure of a demon in the left. It was 
 afterwards taken down, and carried in procession, the coach in the 
 van, to the gates of the fortress, and finally to the counterscarp, 
 under the very mouths of the cannon, where they made a grand bon- 
 fire of the whole, amidst the shouts and general exultation of many 
 thousands of people. But this irritated multitude did not stop here. 
 They soon repaired to the residence of major James. It was dis- 
 tinguished for its rich furniture, a library of great value, and a gar- 
 den of singular beauty. In a moment all was ravaged and destroyed. 
 They kindled also the accustomed bonfire ; exclaiming, Such are 
 the entertainments the people bestow on the friends of stamps ! 
 
 The coffee-houses had become a species of public arena, and 
 schools for political doctrines, where the popular orators, mounting 
 the benches or tables, harangued the multitude, who commonly re- 
 sorted to these places in great numbers. In a very crowded con- 
 course of this sort, an honest citizen of New York arose and exhort- 
 ed the people to a more regular and less blameable conduct. He 
 entreated the inhabitants even to take arms, in order to be prepared 
 to repress the factious on the first symptoms of tumult. His dis- 
 course was received with great approbation. But captain Isaac 
 Sears, who had commanded a privateer, and was violently opposed 
 to the stamps, urged the people not to give ear to these timid men, 
 who take alarm at cobwebs ; let them follow him, and he would 
 soon put them in possession of the stamped paper. 
 
 He is joined at first by a few popular chiefs ; all the rest follow their 
 example. A deputation is sent to the lieutenant-governor, to inform 
 him that he will do well to deliver up the stamped paper. He en- 
 deavored at first to gain time, alleging that the governor, Henry 
 Moore, was expected shortly, and would determine what was proper 
 in this conjuncture. The answer was by no means satisfactory. It 
 was represented more imperiously to the lieutenant-governor, that 
 peaceably or by force, the people must have the stamped paper ; 
 and that a moment's delay might cause the effusion of blood. To 
 avoid, therefore, a greater evil, he consented to put it in their hands ; 
 and they, with great exultation, deposited the same in the City-Hall. 
 Ten bales, however, which arrived afterwards, were seized by the 
 populace and burnt. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the disorders committed in New York by the 
 lower classes, citizens of a more quiet character abounded in this 
 city ; who, if. on the one hand, they were averse to the pretensions 
 
68 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 of the British parliament, and especially to the stamp act, on the 
 other, felt an equal abhorrence for these excesses of popular inso- 
 lence ; well knowing, that they are only excited by the worthless 
 and desperate, who alone can be gainers by anarchy. Believing, 
 therefore, it was no longer advisable to leave the headlong multitude 
 without a check, but, on the contrary, that it was essential to direct 
 their movements towards the object proposed by themselves, they 
 convoked a general meeting of the people, in the fields adjacent to 
 the city. It was there proposed to appoint a committee ol persons 
 of known patriotism, to correspond with the friends of liberty in other 
 provinces, and communicate intelligence of all occurrences ; in order 
 to enable the people of the different provinces to move, if requisite, 
 all at once, and as it were in a single body. This measure, how- 
 ever, was not without danger, since it inclined towards an open re- 
 bellion, if not even already of this character. 
 
 Many, therefore, who had been nominated members of the com- 
 mittee excused themselves upon various pretexts ; but finally, Isaac 
 Sears and four others of distinguished intrepidity, offered themselves, 
 and were approved by the multitude. They commenced their labors 
 immediately, subscribing the letters with all their names. They re- 
 quested their correspondents of Philadelphia, to transmit their de- 
 spatches to the more southern colonies 5 and the Bostonians, to those 
 of the north. This produced, as it were, a second generation of the 
 Sons of Liberty, who, by means of regular couriers, were enabled 
 to reciprocate intelligence, and to form a league in opposition to par- 
 liamentary taxation. But if the utility of a regular correspondence 
 was recognised by all the party, they were not long in perceiving 
 that it wps insufficient to accomplish their views. They saw that it 
 was requisite to determine all the principles of the association, and 
 cause them to be accepted by all its members, in order that each 
 might know his duty, and the counsels to be pursued. The authors 
 of this plan believed, also, that as the articles of confederation were 
 to be solemnly subscribed, many even of the adverse party would 
 not dare to oppose it, and would therefore give their signatures : 
 they would thus have been rendered accessaries, and their future 
 support consequently secured. The articles were soon drawn up, 
 and accepted by the Sons of Liberty in the two provinces of New 
 York and Connecticut : and afterwards, passing from hand to hand, 
 by those of the other colonies. 
 
 In the preamble to this league, which was composed very ably, 
 the confederates affirmed, that perverse men had formed a design to 
 alienate the rninds of the loyal and affectionate American subjects 
 from his majesty's person and government, and therefore they pro- 
 fessed and declared their fidelity and allegiance to the king to be 
 immutable ; that they would defend and support the crown with all 
 their forces ; that with the greatest promptitude they submitted to 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 69 
 
 its government, and this in conformity to the British constitution, 
 founded upon the eternal principles of equity and justice ; that every 
 violation of this constitution was at the same time a high offence 
 against heaven, and an audacious contempt of the people, from whom, 
 under God, all just government proceeds ; that they were therefore 
 resolved to unite all their endeavors, their vigilance and their indus- 
 try, to defeat these criminal designs. 'And since,' they added, l a 
 certain pamphlet, (thus designating a law passed by the parliament of 
 Great Britain,) has appeared in America, under the form of an act 
 of parliament, and under the name of the stamp act, although it has 
 not been legally published nor introduced ; by which the colonists 
 would be divested of their dearest rights, and especially that of tax- 
 ing themselves ; in order to preserve these rights entire, and to de- 
 fend them as well as every other part of the British constitution, we 
 bind ourselves, and promise to march with all our forces, and at our 
 own expense, upon the first advice, to the succour of those who shall 
 be menaced with any peril whatever, on account of any thing done 
 in opposition to the stamp act. We will attentively watch all they, 
 who, by commission or of their own accord, shall endeavor to intro- 
 duce the use of stamped paper, which would be the total subversion 
 of the English constitution, and of American liberty. We will re- 
 ciprocally designate to each other all persons of this sort that we 
 may discover, whatever shall be their rank or their names, and will 
 endeavor, with all our power, by every lawful means, to bring these 
 traitors to their country to condign punishment. We will defend the 
 liberty of the press from all illegal violation, and from every impedi- 
 ment which may result from the stamp act ; the press being the only 
 means, under Divine Providence, of preserving our lives, liberty, 
 and property. We will also defend and protect the judges, advo- 
 cates, attornies, notaries, and similar persons, against all penalties, 
 fines or vexations, they may incur by not conforming to the act 
 aforesaid, in the exercise of their respective avocations.' 
 
 Such was the league of New York, which increased the ardor 
 and concert of the parties, then fermenting at every point of the 
 American colonies. 
 
 Meanwhile, the seeds of the new doctrine, in respect to government. 
 were rapidly propagated in the province of New York ; file public 
 journals offered them to the daily consideration of their readers. It 
 was every where asserted, that the colonies ought not to have any 
 other connexion with Great Britain but that of living under the same 
 sovereign ; and that all dependence ought to cease, as to legislative 
 authority. 
 
 These opinions, supported with equal ardor and ingenuity, were 
 daily acquiring new roots ; they were disseminated in the other co- 
 lonies, and insensibly prepared the minds of the people for the new 
 order of things, towards which the multitude advanced without sus- 
 
70 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Hi 
 
 peeling it, but its leaders, with deliberate purpose. A revolution, 
 for which England, with quite opposite views, had herself paved the 
 way, and prepared the most favorable circumstances. 
 
 The merchants of New York resorted to another mode of oppo- 
 sition, very efficacious, and well adapted to obtain the repeal of the 
 act. They entered into reciprocal agreements, not only to order no 
 more goods from Great Britain, until the act was repealed, and to 
 withdraw all the orders already given, and which should not be execut- 
 ed previous to the 1st of January, 1766, but also, not even to permit 
 the sale of any English merchandise, which should be shipped after 
 this date. According to the ordinary progress of minds once agitated, 
 which become continually more bold in their opinions, the merchants 
 added, that they would persevere in these resolutions, until the acts 
 relative to sugar, molasses, and bills of credit, were also revoked. 
 The same resolutions were voluntarily adopted, also by the retail 
 traders, who agreed not to buy or sell any English merchandise, 
 that should be introduced into the country in contravention of these 
 si|Bulations. 
 
 Jihe merchants and traders of Philadelphia also assembled, and 
 entered into an agreement ; but not with the same unanimity. The 
 Quakers refused their concurrence. They thought it was prudent, 
 however, to conform to circumstances; and wrote to England, re- 
 questing that no more goods might be sent them. The Philadelphi- 
 ans went still further, and prohibited any lawyer from instituting an 
 action for monies due to an inhabitant of England ; and no American 
 was to make any payment for the benefit of a subject of that king- 
 dom, until the acts should be repealed. At Boston, although a little 
 later, similar associations were formed ; and the example of these 
 principal cities was imitated by nearly all the other cities and com- 
 mercial towns of English America. 
 
 From these measures, England experienced, in her manufactures, 
 an incalculable prejudice ; while Ireland, on the contrary, derived an 
 immense advantage from their effects ; for the Americans resorted to 
 the latter country, to obtain such articles of merchandise as they 
 considered indispensably necessary, and carried, in exchange, im- 
 mense quantities of the seed of flax and of hemp. But the colonists 
 were desrfous also to withdraw themselves from this necessity. A so- 
 ciety of arts, manufactures and commerce, was formed at New York, 
 after the model of that in London. Markets were opened, in different 
 places, for the sale of articles manufactured in the country; to which 
 were brought, in abundance, cloths and linens, stuffs of wool and of 
 flax, works in iron, of a tolerable quality, though a little rough, spirits 
 distilled from barley, paper stained for hangings, and other articles of 
 general utility. That the first materials of fabrics in wool might sus- 
 tain no diminution, it was resolved to abstain from eating the flesh of 
 lambs, and also from buying meat, of any sort, of butchers -who 
 should kill or offer for sale any of these animals. 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 71 
 
 Every citizen, even the most opulent, the most ostentatious, conform- 
 ing to the general mode, preferred to wear clothing made in the coun- 
 try, or their old clothes, to using English manufactures. Thus a ge- 
 neral opinion obtained, that America could suffice to herself, without 
 need of recourse to the industry and productions of England. And, as 
 if these wounds, inflicted upon the commerce of the mother country, 
 were not sufficiently severe, it was proposed, in Virginia and South 
 Carolina, to suspend all exportation of tobacco to any part of Great 
 Britain ; from which the latter must have sustained a very serious 
 detriment, not only by the diminution of public revenue, consequent 
 to that of the duties upon importation, but by the diminutiori of com- 
 merce itself; for the English supplied foreign markets with great 
 quantities of these tobaccos. 
 
 On the first of November, the day prefixed by the law for the 
 emission of stamped paper, not a single sheet of it could have been 
 found in all the colonies of New England, of New York, of JN"ew 
 Jersey, of Pennsylvania, of Maryland, and of the two Carolinas. It 
 had either been committed to the flames during the popular comd^- 
 tions, or sent back to England, or fallen into the hands of the pa^y 
 in opposition, who guarded it carefully. Hence originated a sud- 
 den suspension, or rather a total cessation, of all business that could 
 not be transacted without stamped paper. The printers of news- 
 papers only continued their occupation ; alleging for excuse, that if 
 they had done* otherwise, the people would have given them such 
 admonitions as they little coveted. None would receive the gazettes 
 coming from Canada, as they were printed upon stamped paper. 
 The courts of justice were closed ; the ports were shut; even mar- 
 riages, were no longer celebrated ; and in a word, an absolute stag- 
 nation in all the relations of social life was established. 
 
 The governors of the provinces, though bound by their oaths, and 
 the severest penalties, to cause the stamp act to be executed, con- 
 sidering, on the one hand, the obstinacy of the Americans, and, on 
 the other, the impossibility of finding any stamped paper, in the 
 greater part of the towns, considering also the incalculable detri- 
 ment that must result, as well to the public as to individuals, from a 
 total stagnation of all civil transactions, resolved to grant letters of 
 dispensation to such as requested them, and particularly to ships 
 about to sail from the ports ; for the captains, without this precau- 
 tion, would have been liable to heavy penalties, in other ports of the 
 British dominions, for not having conformed to the stamp act. The 
 lieutenant-governor of South Carolina, the governor being absent, 
 alone obstinately persisted in exacting a strict execution of the law, 
 and never consented to grant dispensations. Nor is it easy to con- 
 ceive how great was the damage sustained, in all civil transactions, 
 by the inhabitants of this opulent colony, in consequence of the ob- 
 stinacy shown by the two parties. 
 
72 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 But the province of Massachusetts, the most populous of all, and 
 that in which the opposition to the designs of England was the most 
 determined and the most universal, took another resolution, of ex- 
 treme importance, which was soon adopted by all the others. The 
 leading patriots of Massachusetts reflected that popular commotions 
 are commonly of little duration ; and that governments, to preserve 
 their dignity, are more disposed to punish their authors, than to re- 
 move their causes; and consequently, that both reasons of state, and 
 the wounded pride of those they had braved, would be united against 
 them. They reflected, also, that the regular correspondence esta- 
 blished between the Sons of Liberty in the different provinces, al- 
 though of great importance to diffuse and uphold a common opinion, 
 was still but a correspondence of private men, acting by no public 
 authority ; and that, although the assemblies of representatives of 
 each province, had opposed the late laws by suitable deliberations, 
 yet these acts were but the remonstrances of particular provinces, 
 which did not represent the entire united body of the English' colo- 
 
 AThey resolved, therefore, to take measures preliminary to the 
 ation of a general congress, to which each of the provinces 
 should send its deputies, for the purpose of concluding a general and 
 public confederacy against the laws of which America complained. 
 They hoped that England would pay more regard to the opposition 
 and remonstrances of such a body than to those of private individuals, 
 or of the provincial assemblies, separated one from^another. Per- 
 haps they also hoped, as they probably already meditated the design 
 of independence, that, by means of this congress, the colonies would 
 become accustomed to act in concert, and consider themselves as a 
 a single and united nation. The first authors of this deliberation 
 were the Otises, father and son, and James Warren, who took a more 
 active part than others in affairs of this nature. 
 
 The proposition having been submitted to the house of assembly, 
 it was immediately adopted, by passing a resolution, that it was high- 
 ly expedient to form a congress without delay, to be composed of all 
 the deputies that should be sent by the houses of representatives or 
 burgesses of the different colonies, to consult together respecting the 
 present occurrences, and to form and transmit to England, the re- 
 monstrances which might be deemed proper. It was decided, that 
 this congress should be convoked in the city of New York, on the 
 first Tuesday of October. 
 
 This was the first general congress held in the colonies, since the 
 commencement of the tumults ; it served as a model to the other, 
 which governed the affairs of America during the course of the war 
 which broke out some time after. The other colonies addressed 
 their acknowledgments to the province of Massachusetts, for its zeal 
 in the common cause ; and sent their deputies to the congress of 
 New York. A memorable example ! The same councils which 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 73 
 
 tended to establish a law by the divisions supposed to have resulted 
 from the conflict of interests, produced, on the contrary, an univer- 
 sal combination against this law ; and where it was expected to find 
 general obedience, an unanimous resistance was encountered. A 
 manifest proof, tliHt where no powerful armies exist, to constrain the 
 opinion of the people, all attempts to oppose it, are fraught with dan- 
 ger. The rulers of free states ought to show themselves their ad- 
 ministrators, rather than masters ; they should be capable of guiding, 
 without frequent use of the curb, or of the spur. 
 
 On Monday, the 7th of October, 1765, the delegates of the 
 American provinces convened in the city of New York. The ballot 
 being taken, and the votes examined, Timothy Ruggles was elected 
 president. The congress, after a long preamble, full of the ordinary 
 protestations of affection and loyalty towards the person of the king, 
 and the English government, inserted a series of fourteen articles, 
 which were but a confirmation of the rights claimed by the Ameri- 
 cans, both as men and as subjects of the British crown, of which we 
 have already made frequent mention ; concluding with complaints of 
 the restraints and impediments to their commerce, created by the 
 late laws. 
 
 They afterwards drew up three petitions, or remonstrances, ad- 
 dressed to the king, to the lords in parliament, and to the house of 
 commons. They enlarged upon the merits of the Americans, in 
 having converted vast deserts, and uncultivated lands, into populous 
 cities and fertile fields ; inhospitable shores into safe and commodious 
 ports ; tribes of ignorant and inhuman savages, into civilised and 
 sociable nations, to whom they had communicated the knowledge of 
 things, divine and human; and thus had greatly advanced the glory, 
 power, and prosperity of the British nation. 
 
 'We have always enjoyed,' they said, 'the privileges of English 
 subjects; to these we are indebted for the happy life we have led for 
 so long a time. We cannot, we ought not, to renounce them ; none 
 has the right to tax us but ourselves. We have been aggrieved and 
 injured, beyond measure, by the late commercial restrictions ; but 
 especially by the new and extraordinary act for imposing stamp du- 
 ties. The peculiar circumstances of the colonies render it impossi- 
 ble to pay these duties; and, though it were possible, the payment 
 would soon drain them of all their specie. Tiie execution of these 
 laws would, by reaction, become extremely detrimental to the com- 
 mercial interest of Great Britain. The colonies owe an immensely 
 heavy debt, as well to England for British manufactures, as to their 
 own inhabitants, for advances made by them, for the public service, 
 in the late war. It is evident, the more the commerce of the colo- 
 nies is favored, the more also that of England is promoted and in- 
 creased. In such a country as America, where the lands are ex- 
 tremely divided, and transfers of property very frequent, where a 
 VOL. i. 10 
 
74 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 multiplicity of transactions take place every day, the stamp act is not 
 only vexatious, but altogether insupportable ; the house of commons 
 cannot, at so great a distance, be acquainted with our wants or with 
 our faculties ; every one knows the distinction between the jurisdic- 
 tion of parliament, in regulating the affairs of commerce in all parts 
 of the empire, and colonial taxation ; for the latter object, the pro- 
 vincial assemblies have been expressly instituted in the colonies, which 
 would become altogether useless, if the parliament should arrogate 
 the right of imposing taxes ; the colonists have never obstructed, but 
 have always promoted to the extent of their power, the interests of 
 the crown ; they bear a filial affection towards the government and 
 people of England ; they love their opinions, their manners, their 
 customs, they cherish the ancient relations, which unite them ; they 
 hope, therefore, that their humble representations will be heard ; that 
 their deplorable situation will be taken into a just consideration ; that 
 the acts which have oppressed their commerce and their property, 
 with such grievances, will be repealed, or that the British govern- 
 ment will otherwise relieve the American people, as in its wisdom 
 and goodness shall seem meet.' 
 
 But, as if they feared being called to participate in the general 
 representation in parliament, by sending their delegates also, they 
 inserted in their petitions, an assertion entirely new, which was, that 
 considering the remote situation, and other circumstances of the co- 
 lonies, it would be impracticable that they should be otherwise repre- 
 sented, than by their provincial assemblies. Another of their com- 
 plaints was directed against the clauses of the late laws, by which 
 the penalties and forfeitures, that might be incurred by the violation 
 of the late regulations, and of the stamp act, were not to be decided 
 as in England, by the ordinary tribunals, but, at the election of the 
 informer, by one of the courts of admiralty. Thus, they affirmed, 
 at the good pleasure of the first suborner, they were liable to be 
 carried, for trial, from one end of the continent to the other ; while 
 at the same time, they would be deprived of the right, so dear to all, 
 of being tried by a jury ; their fortunes, their characters, would be 
 in the hands of a single judge. 
 
 The 24th of October, it was determined by congress, that the pe- 
 titions should be preferred in England, with the requisite solicitations, 
 by special agents, to be appointed for this purpose by the several 
 provinces, and indemnified for all their expenses. The day follow- 
 ing, having accomplished the objects for which it was convened, the 
 congress dissolved itself. 
 
 The news of the disturbances excited in America, by the stamp 
 act, being arrived in England, the minds of all were deeply but dif- 
 ferently affected, according to their various opinions and interests. 
 
 The merchants, foreseeing that the sums they had lent the Ameri- 
 cans could not be reimbursed, censured, and detested the extraordi- 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 75 
 
 nary law which had interrupted the ancient course of things. The 
 greater part of them did not blame, but even appeared to approve 
 the resolution taken by the Americans, to discontinue all remittances 
 to England, persuaded that the new duties had deprived them of the 
 means. The manufacturers, finding their orders diminished, and 
 their business rapidly declining, were reduced to the greatest straits, 
 and many to ruin. Some abandoned themselves to dejection and 
 despondency, others manifested a lofty indignation at the excesses 
 committed by the Americans. Disputations and controversies, were 
 without number. Pamphlets were daily published, written upon dif- 
 ferent, and even opposite principles'. In some, the Americans were 
 extravagantly extolled, and praised as the defenders of liberty, the 
 destroyers of tyranny, the protectors and supporters of all that is 
 dear to man upon earth ; in others, they were acrimoniously accused 
 of ingratitude, avarice, turbulence, suspicion, and finally, of rebellion. 
 
 Those who in parliament, or elsewhere, had promoted the late 
 laws, were disposed to employ force, and constrain the obedience of 
 the Americans at all hazards ; and to inflict condign punishment upon 
 the authors of such enormities. Those, on the contrary, who had 
 opposed the act, declared for more lenient measures ; they affirmed, 
 that all other means should be tried before resorting to force ; that 
 an attempt should first be made to sooth the minds of the colonists, 
 as it was never too late to employ coercion ; that the signal of civil 
 war once given, the first blood once shed, it was impossible to foresee 
 the consequences, or the termination of the contest. 
 
 It was believed, at the time, that lord Bute, who had the king's 
 entire confidence, and, concealed behind the scenes, was the promp- 
 ter of all, had strongly advised to trample down all obstacles, and to 
 use the promptest means to subdue all opposition. The gentlemen 
 of the royal household, who in their ambrosial life are ignorant of 
 human miseries, would have winged the despatches to America with 
 fire and sword. The members of the Episcopal clergy itself, for- 
 getting the clemency of their character, professed the same senti- 
 ments ; perhaps they already imagined that the Americans, being 
 reduced to submission, and the petulance, as they said, of their spi- 
 rits brought under the curb, to prevent the return of similar disorders, 
 it would be determined to introduce in the colonies, the English hie- 
 rarchy. It was also known that the king was inclined to enforce the 
 execution of the stamp act, but that if this could not be effected 
 without bloodshed, he wished its repeal. 
 
 Meanwhile, the ministry, who had been the authors of the restraints 
 imposed on American commerce, and of the stamp act, had received 
 their dismission. In appearance, and perhaps in reality, this change 
 took place on account of the coldness with which they had proposed 
 and supported the regency bill, before the two houses of parliament; 
 such at least was the general opinion ; but it is not improbable that 
 
76 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK. II. 
 
 it was occasioned by the alarming commotions raised in England by 
 the silk-weavers, who complained of the declension of their manu- 
 facture. The cause of which was imputed, by some, to the intro- 
 duction of an unusual quantity of foreign silks, and particularly those 
 of France ; but, the real or principal cause, was the diminution of 
 purchases for American account. Perhaps also, the government al- 
 ready suspected, or was apprised of the tumults in America. But 
 it was given out and circulated with much industry, that the change 
 of ministry ought to be attributed solely to ihe statute of regency. 
 The government thus sheltered itself from the blame incurred by the 
 new direction given to the affairs of America, and left the people at 
 liberty to throw it upon the late ministry. For it is a salutary prin- 
 ciple of the English constitution, that when in consequence of a 
 false or unfortunate measure, the state is menaced with serious dan- 
 gers, (as this measure could not, however, be renounced without 
 prejudice to the dignity of government) some occasion of a nature 
 quite foreign, is eagerly sought as a pretext for dismissing the minis- 
 ters. Then, without other accusation, the censure attaches to them; 
 the affair is again brought under deliberation, and the plan of con- 
 duct is entirely changed. Thus it is seen, that what, in other go- 
 vernments, where the sovereign is absolute, could only be obtained 
 by his abdication, or otherwise would expose the state to the most 
 disastrous events, and perhaps total ruin, is easily obtained in Eng- 
 land, by a simple change of ministers. In this manner the wishes 
 of the nation are gratified without impairing the dignity of the throne, 
 or the security of the state. But, as in all human things evil is al- 
 ways mingled with good, this procedure has also its inconveniences, 
 and the new ministers are placed in a situation full of embarrassment; 
 for to march in a direction altogether opposite to that of their pre- 
 decessors, would be giving a complete triumph to the factious, to 
 insurgents,' to enemies, domestic or foreign, and would tend to ani- 
 mate them with new audacity. On the other hand, to follow tamely 
 the same track, would be continuing in evil, and doing precisely that 
 which it is desired to avoid. It happens, therefore, too often, that 
 the new ministers are obliged to pursue a certain middle course, 
 which rarely leads to any desirable end. A remarkable example of 
 which, is exhibited in the history of the events we retrace. 
 
 The marquis of Rockingham, one of the wealthiest noblemen of 
 the kingdom, and much esteemed by all for the vigor of his genius, 
 and especially for the sincerity of his character, was appointed first 
 lord of the treasury, in the room of George Greiwille, the other 
 departments of the ministry passed from the friends of the latter to 
 the friends of the former. The greater part were, or at least pro- 
 fessed to be, friendly to the American cause. One of them, general 
 Conway, had been appointed secretary of sta.te for the colonies ; 
 and no choice could have been more agreeable to the Americans. 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 77 
 
 The new ministers soon turned their attention to the state of the 
 colonies, which they resolved to meliorate, by procuring the abroga- 
 tion of the laws which had caused such bitter complaints, and par- 
 ticularly of the stamp act. But this they could not do at present, 
 without a great prejudice to the dignity of government ; it was also 
 necessary to wait for the regular meeting of parliament, which is 
 usually convened at the close of the year ; finally, it was requisite to 
 take, at least in appearance, sufficient time to acquaint themselves 
 thoroughly with the state* of affairs in America, and to weigh them 
 with much deliberation, in order to lay them before parliament with 
 all due precision and illustrations. They endeavored, in the mean 
 time, to sooth the minds of the Americans, and bring them back to 
 reason, by pruning from the odious acts all the conditions that could 
 be removed by an extreme laxity of interpretation ; by speaking in 
 their correspondence with the governors of the colonies, with great 
 indulgence of the American disturbances ; and by encouraging the 
 colonists themselves to hope that their grievances would be redressed. 
 
 The board of treasury decided that all the produce of the Ameri- 
 can stamp duties should be paid, from time to time, to the deputy 
 paymaster in America, to defray the subsistence of the troops, and 
 any military expenses incurred in the colonies. 
 
 The members of the board of trade, having taken into considera- 
 tion the energetic resolutions of the assembly of Virginia, were ur- 
 gent in their representations to the king, that he should notice them, 
 by a declaration of the royal disapprobation, and send instructions 
 to the agents of the crown in Virginia, to enforce the strict execution 
 of the stamp act, and all other laws proceeding from the legitimate 
 authority of parliament. But all this was but a vain demonstration, 
 for they well knew that their opinion would not be approved by the 
 king's privy council. In effect, the council decided that the present 
 matter could not be determined by the king in his privy council, but 
 was within the competency of parliament. 
 
 The resolutions of the other colonial assemblies having been de- 
 nounced to the king, the privy council made the same answer in 
 respect to them. Thus it was apparent, that a disposition existed to 
 discourage all deliberations directed against America. 
 
 The secretary of state, Conway, found himself in a very difficult 
 situation. He could not but condemn the excesses to which the 
 Americans had abandoned themselves ; but, on the other hand, he 
 detested the thought of procuring, by force, the execution of a law 
 which had been the cause of such commotions, and was considered 
 by the new ministers, and by himself, perhaps, more than any other, 
 if not unjust, certainly at least, unseasonable and prejudicial. He, 
 therefore, had recourse to temporising and subterfuges ; and display- 
 ed in all his conduct a surprising address. 
 
78 'THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK n. 
 
 In the letters addressed to the lieutenant-governor of Virginia, and 
 to the other colonial governors, he expressed a full persuasion of the 
 attachment of the mass of the Virginians to the mother country ; 
 that the violent proceedings of some among them, had in no degree 
 diminished the confidence his majesty had always placed in his good 
 colony of Virginia ; that neither the crown nor its servants had any 
 intention to violate the real rights and liberties of any part of his 
 majesty's dominions ; that, on the other hand, the government would 
 never endure that the dignity of parliament should be made a sa- 
 crifice to certain local and anticipated opinions. He therefore ex- 
 horted the governors to maintain, with all their power, but by all 
 prudent measures, the just rights of the British government, (without, 
 however, explaining what rights were intended.) He recommended 
 to them, especially, to preserve the peace and tranquillity of the 
 provinces committed to their care ; then, adverting to the violences 
 and outrages which had taken place in the colonies, he did not hesi- 
 tate to attribute them to the lowest of the population, always fond of 
 change ; he was confident, the better and wiser part of the citizens 
 had taken no part in them, who must know that submission and de- 
 cency are more efficacious than violence and outrage, to obtain 
 redress, indulgence and favor. ' If prudence and lenity should prove 
 insufficient to calm the fermentation, it would be necessary to provide 
 for the maintenance of peace and good order, by such a timely ex- 
 ertion of force as the occasion might require ; for which purpose, 
 they would make the proper applications to general Gage or lord 
 Colvil, commanders of his majesty's land and naval forces in 
 America.' 
 
 He praised, however, the patience and magnanimity of the govern- 
 or of New York, in having abstained from firing the artillery of the 
 fort on the infatuated populace, which so provokingly approached ; 
 and testified his joy, that amidst so many disorders no blood had 
 been spilt. He remarked that the distance of places prevented him 
 from giving them more precise instructions ; and, finally, that he 
 placed great reliance upon their wisdom, discretion and prudence. 
 
 These despatches of the secretary of state, sufficiently evince 
 what was his mode of thinking, with respect to American affairs ; 
 for, although he recommends the employment of force, if requisite, 
 for the repression of tumults, he no where speaks of constraining the 
 Americans to submit to the stamp act. 
 
 In the midst of so many storms, the year 1 765 approached its con- 
 clusion, when the parliament was convoked, on the 17th of Decem- 
 ber. Although the king, in his opening speech, had made mention 
 of American affairs, this subject which held in suspense not only 
 Great Britain and her colonies, but even all Europe, was adjourned 
 till the meeting of parliament after the Christmas holidays. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 14th of January, 1766, the king adverted again te 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 79 
 
 the events which had occurred in America, as matters of extreme 
 importance, which would require the most serious attention of parlia- 
 ment during its present session. Things were on all sides brought 
 to maturity. The new ministers had laid before parliament all the 
 information relating to this subject ; and, having previously arranged 
 the system of measures they intended to pursue, they were fully 
 prepared to answer the objections which they knew it must en- 
 counter from the opposite party. Likewise, those who from per- 
 sonal interest or from conviction, voluntarily or at the suggestion of 
 others, proposed to support the ministers in their debates, had made 
 all the dispositions they believed conducive to the object in view. 
 On the other hand, the late ministers, and all their adherents, had 
 strenuously exerted themselves, in making preparations to defend a 
 law they had ushered into being, and the darling object of their soli- 
 citude ; fully appprised, apart from partiality for their own opinion, 
 what dishonor, or at least what diminution of credit, they must sus- 
 tain from its abrogation. But, whatever might have been the mo- 
 tives deducible from reasons of state, for the maintainance of the law, 
 the prejudice which must result from it to the commerce of Great 
 Britain, was already but too evident. 
 
 Accordingly, as if all the merchants of the kingdom had leagued 
 for the purpose, they presented themselves at the bar of parliament, 
 with petitions, tending to cause the repeal of the act. They repre- 
 sented how much their commerce had been affected, in consequence 
 of the new regulations and the new laws concerning America. 
 
 ' At this moment,' they said, ' we see accumulated or perishing in 
 our warehouses, immense quantities of British manufactures, which 
 heretofore have found a ready market in America ; a very great 
 number of artisans, manufacturers, and seamen, are without employ- 
 ment, and destitute of support. England is deprived of rice, indigo, 
 tobacco, naval stores, oil, whale fins, furs, potash, and other commo- 
 dities of American growth, that were brought by its inhabitants to our 
 ports, in exchange for British manufactures. The merchants of 
 Great Britain are frustrated of the remittances, in bills of exchange 
 and bullion, which the Americans have hitherto procured them ; and 
 which they obtained in payment for articles of their produce, not re- 
 quired for the British market, and therefore exported to other places ; 
 already, many articles are wanting, heretofore procured by the 
 Americans with their own funds, and with English manufactures, and 
 which they brought eventually to the ports of England. From the 
 nature of this trade, consisting of British manufactures exported, 
 and of the import of raw materials from America, it must be deemed 
 of the highest importance to the British nation ; since, among other 
 advantages, it tended to lessen its dependence on foreign states ; but 
 it is henceforth annihilated, without the immediate interposition of 
 parliament** The merchants of Great Britain are in advance to the 
 
80 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 colonists for the sum of several millions sterling, who are no longer 
 able to make good their engagements, as they have heretofore done, 
 so great is the damage they have sustained from the regulations of 
 commerce recently introduced ; and many bankruptcies have actually 
 occurred of late in the colonies, a thing almost without example in 
 times past.' The petitioners added, that their situation was critical ; 
 that without the immediate succours of parliament, they must be 
 totally ruined ; that a multitude of manufacturers would likewise be 
 reduced to the necessity of seeking subsistence in foreign countries, 
 to the great prejudice of their own. They implored the parliament 
 to preserve the strength of the nation entire, the prosperity of its 
 commerce, the abundance of its revenues, the power of its navy, the 
 immensity and wealth of its navigation, (the sources of the true glory 
 of England, and her strongest bulwark) and finally, to maintain the 
 colonies, from inclination, duty, and interest, firmly attached to the 
 mother country. 
 
 The agent of Jamaica also presented a petition, in which were 
 detailed the pernicious effects produced, in that Island by a stamp law, 
 which had originated in the assembly of its own representatives. 
 Other petitions were presented by the agents of Virginia and Georgia. 
 All these were got up, at the suggestion of the ministers. The re- 
 presentations of the congress of New York were not admitted, be- 
 cause this assembly was unconstitutionally formed. 
 
 Not trusting to these preparatives, the ministers, passionately de- 
 sirous of obtaining the revocation, resolved to employ the name and 
 authority of Benjamin Franklin, a man who enjoyed at that time the 
 greatest reputation. He was therefore interrogated, during the de- 
 bates, in the presence of the house of commons. The celebrity of 
 the person, the candor of his character, the recollection of all the 
 services he had rendered his country, and the whole human race, by 
 his physical discoveries, roused the attention of every mind. The 
 galleries were crowded with spectators, eager to hear so distinguished 
 an individual speak upon a subject of so much moment. He an- 
 swered with gravity, and with extreme presence of mind. l The 
 Americans, 5 he 'said, ' already pay taxes on all estates, real and per- 
 sonal ; a poll tax ; a tax on all offices, professions, trades and busi- 
 nesses, according to their profits ; an excise on all wine, rum, and 
 other spirits ; and a duty of ten pounds per head, on all negroes im- 
 ported ; with some other duties. The assessments upon real and 
 personal estates amount to eighteen pence in the pound ; and those 
 upon the profits of employments to half a crown. The colonies 
 could not in any way pay the stamp duty ; there is not gold and silver 
 enough, in all the colonies, to pay the stamp duty even for one year. 
 The Germans who inhabit Pennsylvania are more dissatisfied with 
 this duty than the native colonists themselves. The Americans, 
 since the new laws, have abated much of their affection for Great 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 81 
 
 Britain, and of their respect for parliament. There exists a great 
 difference between internal and external duties ; duties laid on com- 
 modities imported have no other effect than to raise the price of these 
 articles in the American market ; they make, in fact, a part of this 
 price ; but it is optional with the people either to buy them or not, 
 and consequently to pay the duty or not. But an internal tax is forc- 
 ed from the people without their own consent, if not laid by their 
 own representatives. The stamp act says, we shall have no com- 
 merce, make no exchange of property with each other, neither pur- 
 chase nor grant, nor recover debts, we shall neither marry, nor make 
 our wills, unless we pay such and such sums ; and thus it is intended 
 to extort our money from us, or ruin us by the consequences of re- 
 fusing to pay it. The American colonists could, in a short time, find 
 in their own manufactures the means of sufficing to themselves. 
 The repeal of the stamp act would restore tranquillity, and things 
 would resume their pristine course.' 
 
 Thus spoke Franklin; and his words were a powerful support to 
 the ministers. But the advocates of the law were not inactive ; and 
 they marshalled all their strength to obstruct their repeal. The dis- 
 quisitions and debates had continued with equal warmth on both sides, 
 and the moment of decision approached ; when George Grenville, 
 the same who, being prime minister, had first proposed the stamp act 
 in parliament, a man whose influence was extensive, and his adhe- 
 rents very numerous, arose in his place, and spoke in the following 
 terms ; ' If I could persuade myself that the pride of opinion, the 
 spirit of party, or the affection which man usually bears to things 
 done by himself, had so fascinated my intellectual sight and biassed 
 the faculties of my mind, as to deprive me of all power to see and 
 distinguish that which is manifest, I certainly, on this occasion, should 
 have intrenched myself in silence, and thus displayed, if not my 
 zeal for the public service, at least my prudence and discretion. 
 But, as the affair now before us has been the subject of my most at- 
 tentive consideration, and of rny most deliberate reflection, at a peri- 
 od when the general tranquillity was uninterrupted by scandalous 
 excesses ; and as, from a contingency for which I claim no merit, it 
 appears that to my honor and reputation the honor and dignity of this 
 kingdom are attached, my prudence might be reputed coldness, and 
 my discretion a base desertion. 
 
 * But where is the public, where is the private man, whatever 
 may be his moderation, who is not roused at the present dangers 
 which so imminently threaten the safety of our country ? who does 
 not put forth all his strength to avert them ? And who can help in- 
 dulging the most sinister anticipations, in contemplating the new 
 counsels and fatal inactivity of the present servants of the crown ? 
 A solemn law has been enacted in parliament, already a year since. 
 It was, and still is, the duty of ministers to carry it into effect. The 
 
 VOL. I. II 
 
82 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK II. 
 
 constitution declares, that to suspend a law, or the execution of a 
 law, by royal authority, and without consent of parliament, is felony ; 
 in defiance of which, this law has been suspended, has been openly 
 resisted, but. did I say resisted ? Your delegates are insulted, their 
 houses are pillaged ; even their persons are not secure from violence ; 
 and, as if to provoke your patience, you are mocked and braved 
 under the mouths of your artillery. Your ears are assailed from 
 every quarter, with protestations that obedience cannot, shall not, 
 ought not, to be rendered to your decrees. Perhaps other minis- 
 ters, more old fashioned, would have thought it their duty, in such a 
 case, to lend the law ihe aid of force ; thus maintaining the dignity 
 of the crown and the authority of your deliberations. But those 
 young gentlemen who sit on the opposite benches, and no one knows 
 how, look upon these principles as the antiquated maxims of our 
 simple ancestors, and disdain 10 honor with their attention mere acts 
 of riot, sedition, and open resistance. With a patience truly exem- 
 plary, they recommend to the governors lenity and moderation ; they 
 grant them permission to call in the aid of three or four soldiers from 
 general Ga^e, and as many cock-boats from lord Colvil ; they com- 
 mend them for not having employed, to carry the law into effect, the 
 means which had been placed in their hands. 
 
 ' Be prepared to see that the seditious are in the right, and that 
 we only are in fault ; such, assuredly, is the opinion of the ministers. 
 And who could doubt it f They have declared it themselves, they 
 incessantly repeat it, in your presence. It is but too apparent that, 
 much against their will, they have at length laid before you the dis- 
 orders and audacious enormities of the Americans ; for they began 
 in July, and now we are in the middle of January ; lately, they were 
 only occurrences they are now grown to disturbances, tumults and 
 riots. I doubt they border on open rebellion ; and if the doctrine I 
 have heard this day be confirmed, I fear they will lose that name, to 
 take that of revolution. May heaven bless the admirable resigna- 
 tion of our ministers ; but I much fear we shall gather no fruits from 
 it of an agreeable relish. Occasion is fleeting, the danger is urgent ; 
 and this undisciplinable people, the amiable object of their fond so- 
 licitude, of their tender care, are forming leagues, are weaving con- 
 spiracies, are preparing to resist the orders of the king and of the 
 parliament. Continue then, ye men of long suffering, to march in 
 the way you have chosen ; even repeal the law ; and see how many 
 agents you will find zealous in the discharge of their duty, in execut- 
 ing the laws of the kingdom, in augmenting the revenues and dimi- 
 nishing the burthens of your people ; see, also, how many ministers 
 you will find, who, for the public service, will oppose a noble and inr 
 vincible firmness against the cabals of malignity, against the power- 
 ful combination of all private interests, against the clamors of the 
 multitude, and the perversity of faction. In a word, if you would 
 shiver all the springs of government, repeal the law. 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 83 
 
 'I hear it asserted, from every quarter, by these defenders of the 
 colonists, that they cannot be taxed by authority of parliament, be- 
 cause they are not there represented. But if so, why, and by what 
 authority, do you legislate for them at all? If they are represented, 
 they ought to obey all laws of parliament whatsoever, whether of 
 the nature of taxes, or any other whatever. If they are not, they 
 ought neither to submit to tax laws nor to any other. And if you 
 believe the colonists ought not to be taxed by authority of parlia- 
 ment, from defect of representation, how will you maintain that nine 
 tenths of the inhabitants of this kingdom, no better represented than 
 the colonists, ought to submit to your taxation ? The Americans 
 have taken a hostile attitude towards the mother country ; and you 
 would not only forgive their errors, dissemble their outrages, remit 
 the punishment due, but surrender at discretion, and acknowledge 
 their victory complete ! Is this preventing popular commotions ? Is 
 this repressing tumults and rebellion ? Is it not rather to foment 
 them, to encourage them to supply fresh fuel to the conflagration ? 
 Let any man, not blinded by the spirit of party, judge and pronounce. 
 I would freely listen to the councils of clemency, I would even con- 
 sent to the abrogation of the law, if the Americans had requested 
 it in a decent mode ; but their modes are outrages, derision, and 
 the ways of force ; pillage, plunder, arms and open resistance to the 
 will of government. It is a thing truly inadmissible, and altogether 
 new, that, at any moment, whenever the fancy may take them, or the 
 the name of a law shall happen to displease them, these men should 
 at once set about starving our manufacturers, and refuse to pay what 
 they owe to the subjects of Great Britain. The officers of the 
 crown, in America, have repeatedly solicited, and earnestly entreat- 
 ed, the ministers, to furnish them with proper means to carry the law 
 into effect ; but the latter have disregarded their instances ; and, by 
 this negligence, the American tumults have taken the alarming cha- 
 racter we see. And shall we now suffer the ministers to come and 
 allege the effects of their own neglect, to induce us to sacrifice the 
 best interests of this kingdom, the mnjesty, the power, and even the 
 reputation of the government, to an evil, overgrown indeed, but not 
 past cure, the moment a suitable resolution is demonstrated to bring 
 this infatuated multitude to a sense of duty ? But, again, if the 
 colonists are exempted, by their constitutions, from parliamentary 
 taxes, as levies of seamen have been either prohibited or restrirted 
 in America, by different acts of parliament, it follows, of necessity, 
 that they are not bound either to furnish men for the defence of the 
 common country, or money to pay them,; and that England alone 
 must support the burthen of the maintainance and protection of these 
 her ungrateful children. If such a partiality should be established, 
 it must be at the hazard of depopulating this kingdom, and of dis- 
 solving that original compact upon which all human societies repose. 
 
84 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 1 But I hear these subtle doctors attempting to inculcate a fantastical 
 distinction between external and internal taxes, as if they were not 
 the same as to the effect, that of taking money from the subjects for 
 the public service. Wherefore, then, these new councils ? When I 
 proposed to tax America, I asked the house if any gentleman would ob- 
 ject to the right ? I repeatedly asked it ; and no man would attempt to 
 deny it. And tell me' when the Americans were emancipated. When 
 they want the protection of this kingdom, they are always very ready 
 to ask it. This protection has always been afforded them in the most 
 full and ample manner ; and now they refuse to contribute their mite 
 towards the public expenses. For, let not gentlemen deceive them- 
 selves, with regard to the rigor of the tax ; it would not suffice even 
 for the necessary expenses of the troops stationed in America ; but a 
 peppercorn, in acknowledgment of the right, is of more value than 
 millions without. Yet, notwithstanding the slightness of the tax, and 
 the urgency of our situation, the Americans grow sullen, and instead 
 of concurring in expenses arising from themselves, they renounce 
 your authority, insult your officers, and break out, I might almost say, 
 into open rebellion. 
 
 1 There has been a time when they would not have proceeded 
 thus ; but they are now supported by ministers more American than 
 English. Already, by the artifice of these young gentlemen, inflam- 
 matory petitions are handed about, against us, and in their favor. 
 Even within this house, even in this sanctuary of the laws, sedition 
 has found its defenders. Resistance to the laws is applauded, obsti- 
 nacy encouraged, disobedience extolled, rebellion pronounced a vir- 
 tue ! Oh more than juvenile imprudence ! Oh blind ambition of the 
 human mind ! But you give a fatal example ; you will soon have 
 ample cause to repent your own work. 
 
 ' And thou, ungrateful people of America, is this the return for the 
 cares and fondness of thy ancient mother ? When I had the honor 
 of serving the crown, while you yourselves were loaded with an enor- 
 mous debt, you have given bounties on their lumber, on their iron, 
 their hemp, and many other articles. You have relaxed in their 
 favor, the act of navigation, that palladium of the British commerce ; 
 and yet I have been abused, in all the public papers, as an enemy to 
 the trade of America. I have been charged with giving orders and 
 instructions to prevent the Spanish trade. I discouraged no trade 
 but what was illicit, what was prohibited by act of parliament. 
 
 * But it is meant first to columniate the man, and then destroy his 
 work. Of myself I will speak no more ; and the substance of my 
 decided opinion, upon the subject of our debates, is briefly this ; let 
 the stamp act be maintained ; and let the governors of the American 
 provinces be provided with suitable means to repress disorders, and 
 carry the law into complete effect.' 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 85 
 
 William Pitt, venerable for his age, and still more for the services 
 he had rendered his country, rose to answer this discourse ; ' I know 
 not' whether I ought most to rejoice, that the infirmities which have 
 been wasting, for so long a time, a body already bowed by the weight 
 of years, of late suspending their ordinary violence, should have al- 
 lowed me, this day, to behold these walls, and to discuss, in the pre- 
 sence of this august assembly, a subject of such high importance, 
 and which so nearly concerns the safety of our country ; or to grieve 
 at the rigor of destiny, in contemplating this country, which, within a 
 few years had arrived at such a pinnacle of splendor and majesty, and 
 become formidable to the universe from the immensity of its power, 
 now wasted by an intestine evil, a prey to civil discords, and madly 
 hastening to the brink of the abyss, into which the united force of the 
 most powerful nations of Europe, struggled in vain to plunge it. 
 Would to heaven that my health had permitted my attendance here, 
 when it was first proposed to tax America ! If my feeble voice should 
 not have been able to avert the torrent of calamities which has fallen 
 upon us, and the tempest which threatens us, at least my testimony 
 would have attested that I had no part in them. 
 
 4 It is now an act that has passed ; I would speak with decency of 
 every act of this house, but I must beg the indulgence of the house 
 to speak of it with freedom. Assuredly, a more important subject 
 never engaged your attention, that subject only excepted, when, near 
 a century ago, it was the question whether you yourselves were to be 
 bound or free. Those who have spoken before me, with so much 
 vehemence, would maintain the act because our honor demands it. 
 If gentlemen consider the subject in that light, they leave all mea- 
 sures of right and wrong to follow a delusion that may lend to de- 
 struction. But can the point of honor stand opposed against justice, 
 against reason, against right? Wherein can honor better consist than 
 in doing reasonable things ? It is my opinion that England has no right 
 to tax the colonies. At the same time, I assert the authority of this 
 kingdom over the colonies to be sovereign and supreme, in every 
 circumstance of government and legislation whatsoever. The colo- 
 nists are the subjects of this kingdom, equally entitled with your- 
 selves to all the natural rights of mankind, and the peculiar privi- 
 leges of Englishmen. Equally bound by its laws, and equally partici- 
 pating of the constitution of this free country. The Americans are 
 the sons, not the bastards, of England. Taxation is no part of the 
 governing or legislative power. The taxes are a voluntary gift and 
 grant of the commons alone. In legislation, the three estates of the 
 realm are alike concerned ; but the concurrence of the peers and the 
 crown to a tax, is only necessary to close with the form of a law. The 
 gift and grant is of the commons alone ; now this house represents 
 the commons, as they virtually represent the rest of the inhabitants ; 
 when, therefore in this house, we give and grant, we give and grant 
 
86 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 what is our own. But in an American tax, what do we do? We, 
 your majesty's commons of Great Britain, give and grant to your 
 majesty, what ? Our own property ? No. We give and grant to your 
 majesty, the property of your commons of America. It is an absurd- 
 ity in terms. It was just now affirmed, that no difference exists be- 
 tween internal and external taxes, and that taxation is an essential 
 part of legislation. Are not the crown and the peers equally legis- 
 lative powers with the commons ? If taxation be a part of simple 
 legislation, the crown, the peers, have rights in taxation as well as 
 yourselves ; rights which they will claim, which they will exercise, 
 whenever the principal can hi? supported by power. 
 
 1 There is an idea in some, that the Americans are virtually re- 
 presented in this house ; but I would fain know by what province, 
 county, city, or borough, they are represented here? No doubt by 
 some province, county, city, or borough, never seen or known by 
 them or their ancestors, and which they never will see or know. 
 
 * The commons of America, represented in their several assem- 
 blies, have ever been in possession of the exercise of this, their con- 
 stitutional right, of giving and granting their own money. They would 
 have been slaves if they had not enjoyed it. 
 
 ' I come not here armed at all points, with law cases, and acts of 
 parliament, with the statute book doubled down in dog's ears, as my 
 valiant adversary has done. But I know, at least, if we are to take 
 example from ancient facts, that, even under the most arbitrary 
 reigns, parliaments were ashamed of taxing a people without their con- 
 sent, and allowed them representatives ; and in our own times, even 
 those who send no members to parliament, are all at least inhabitants 
 of Great Britain. Many have it in their option to be actually repre- 
 sented. They have connexions with those that elect, and they have 
 influence over them. Would to heaven that all were better repre- 
 sented than they are ! It is the vice of our constitution ; perhaps the 
 day will arrive, and I rejoice in the hope, when the mode of repre- 
 sentation, this essential part of our civil organisation, and principal 
 safeguard of our liberty, will be carried to that perfection, which every 
 good Englishman must desire. 
 
 'It has been asked, when were the Americans emancipated? But 
 I desire to know when they were made slaves ? 
 
 ' It is said, that in this house the signal of resistance has been given, 
 that the standard of rebellion has been erected ; and thus it is at- 
 tempted to stigmatise the fairest prerogative of British senators, that 
 of speaking what they think, and freely discussing the interests of 
 their country. They have spoken their sentiments with freedom, 
 against this unhappy act ; they have foreseen, they have predicted 
 the perils that impend ; and this frankness is imputed as a crime. 
 Sorry I am to observe, that we can no longer express our opinions in 
 this house, without being exposed to censure; we must prepare for 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 a disastrous futurity, if we do not oppose, courageously, with our 
 tongues, our hearts, our 'hands, the tyranny with which we are 
 menaced. I hear it said, that America is obstinate, America is 
 almost in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. 
 Three millions of people, so dead to all the feelings of liberty, as 
 voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit. instruments to 
 make slaves of ourselves. The honorable member . has said also, 
 for he is fluent in words of bitterness, that America is ungrateful ; 
 he boasts of his bounties towards her ; but are not these bounties 
 intended, finally, for the benefit of this kingdom? And how is.it 
 true that America is ungrateful ? Does she not voluntarily hold a 
 good correspondence with us ? The profits to Great Britain, from 
 her commerce with the colonies, are two millions a year. This is 
 the fund that carried you triumphantly through the last war. The 
 estates that were rented at two thousand pounds a year, seventy 
 years ago, are at three thousand pounds at present. You owe this 
 to America. This is the price she pays for your protection. I omit 
 the increase of population in the colonies ; the migration of new in- 
 habitants from every part of Europe ; and the ulterior progress of 
 American commerce, should it be regulated by judicious laws. 
 And shall we hear a miserable financier come with. a boast that he 
 can fetch a peppercorn into the exchequer, to the loss of millions to 
 the nation ? The gentleman complains that he has been misrepre- 
 sented in the public prints. I can only say, it is a misfortune com- 
 mon to all that fill high stations, and take a leading part in public 
 affairs. He says, also, that when he first asserted the right of par- 
 liament to tax America, he was not contradicted. I know not how 
 it is, but there is a modesty in this house, which does not choose to 
 contradict a minister. If gentlemen do not get the belter of this 
 modesty, perhaps the collective body may begin to abate of its re- 
 spect for the representative. A great deal has been said without 
 doors, and more than is discreet, of the power, of the strength, of 
 America. But, in a good cause, on a sound bottom, the force of 
 this country can crush America to atoms ; but on the ground of this 
 tax, when it is wished to prosecute an evident injustice, I am one 
 who will lift my hands and my voice against it. 
 
 ' In such a cause, your success would be deplorable, and victory 
 hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like the strong man. 
 She would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the con- 
 stitution along 'with her. Is this your boasted peace ? not to 
 sheath the sword in its scabbard, but to sheath it in the bowels of 
 your countrymen ? Will you quarrel with yourselves, now the 
 whole house of Bourbon is united against you ? while France dis- 
 turbs your fisheries in Newfoundland, embarrasses your slave trade 
 with Africa, and withholds from your subjects in Canada their pro- 
 
88 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK II. 
 
 perty stipulated by treaty ? while the ransom for the Manillas is 
 denied by Spain, and its gallant conqueror traduced into a mean 
 plunderer f The Americans have not acted in all things with pru- 
 dence and temper. They have been wronged. They have been 
 driven to madness by injustice. Will you punish them for the mad- 
 ness you have occasioned . ? Rather let prudence and benignity come 
 first from the strongest side. Excuse their errors ; learn to honor 
 their virtues. Upon the whole, I will beg leave to tell the house 
 what is really my opinion. I consider it most consistent with our 
 dignity, most useful to our liberty, and in every respect the safest for 
 this kingdom, that the stamp act be repealed, absolutely, totally, and 
 immediately. At the same time, let the sovereign authority of this 
 country over the colonies be asserted in as strong terms as can be 
 devised, and be made to extend to every point of legislation whatso- 
 ever ; that we may bind their trade, confine their manufactures, and 
 exercise every power whatsoever, except that of taking their money 
 out of their pockets without their consent.' 
 
 These words, pronounced in a firm and solemn tone, by a man 
 of so great authority, acted with extreme force upon the minds of 
 the hearers. 
 
 They still retained, however, a deep resentment, on account of the 
 excesses committed by the Americans ; and perhaps the repeal of 
 the act would not have taken place, if, at the same time, the minis- 
 ters had not accompanied it with the declaration of which we shall 
 speak presently. Some also are of the opinion, that the affair was 
 much facilitated by the promise of an early repeal of the cider tax, 
 which was, in effect, afterwards debated, and pronounced in the 
 month of April. The members from the counties where cider is 
 made, all voted for the repeal of the stamp act. However the truth 
 of this may be, the question being put, on the 22d of February, 
 whether the act for the repeal of the stamp act should pass ? it was 
 carried in the affirmative ; not, however, without a great number of 
 contrary votes ; two hundred and sixty-five voting in favor, and one 
 hundred and sixty-seven against. It was approved in the house of 
 peers ; one hundred and fifty-five votes were in favor, sixty-one 
 were contrary. At the sarne time was passed the declaratory act, 
 purporting that the legislature of Great Britain has authority to make 
 laws and statutes to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever. On 
 the 19th of March, the king, having repaired to the house of peers, 
 gave his assent to the act of repeal, and that of the dependence of 
 the colonies towards Great Britain. The American merchants at 
 that time in London, went, in a body, to testify their joy and grati- 
 tude upon this occasion. The ships which lay at anchor in the 
 Thames, displayed their colors in token of felicitation. The houses 
 were illuminated in all parts of the city ; salutes were heard, and 
 
BOOK II. THE AMERICAN WAR. 89 
 
 bonfires were kindled, in all quarters. In a word, none of the pub- 
 lic demonstrations, usual on similar occurrences, were omitted, to 
 celebrate the goodness of the king;, and the wisdom of parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 Couriers were immediately despatched to Falmouth, to spread 
 throughout the kingdom, and transmit to America the tidings of a law, 
 which, to appearance, must, on the one hand, by appeasing irritation, 
 put a stop to all further tumults ; and, on the other, dissipate the 
 alarms produced by the losses the manufacturers had sustained. 
 
 END OF BOOK SECOND. 
 
 VOL. 
 
 
00 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 THE Americans, generally, either weary of the present disorders, 
 annoyed by the interruption of commerce, or terrified at the aspect 
 of the future, which seemed to threaten the last extremities, received 
 with great exultation the news of the revocation of the stamp act. 
 
 With infinite delight, they found themselves released from the 
 necessity either of proceeding to the last resort, and to civil blood- 
 shed, a thing horribie in itself, and accompanied with innumerable 
 dangers, or of submitting their necks to a yoke equally detested, and 
 which had become the more odious from the efforts they had already 
 made in resistance. It is easy to imagine, therefore, how great were, 
 in every place, the demonstrations of public joy. Even the assembly 
 of Massachusetts, either from a sentiment of gratitude, or to confirm 
 itself in opposition, for among its members were many of the most 
 distinguished citizens of the province, all firmly resolved to maintain 
 the dependence of America towards Great Britain, unanimously 
 voted thanks to be addressed to the duke of Grafton, to William Pitt, 
 and to all those members of the house of peers, or of commons, who 
 had defended the rights of the colonies, and procured the abrogation 
 of the odious law. In like manner, the assembly of burgesses of 
 Virginia resolved that a statue should be erected to the king, in 
 acknowledgment and commemoration of the repeal of the stamp act; 
 and an obelisk, in honor of those illustrious men who had so effica- 
 ciously espo.used their cause. William Pitt, especially, had become 
 the object of public veneration and boundless praises, for having said 
 the Americans had done well in resisting ; little heeding that he had 
 recommended, in terms so strong and remakable, the confirmation 
 of the authority of parliament over the colonies, in all points of legis- 
 lation and external taxation. But they saw the consequences of these 
 measures only in the distance ; and considered the assertion of cer- 
 tain rights of parliament merely as speculative principles thrown out 
 to spare its dignity, to sooth British pride, and facilitate the digestion 
 of so bitter a morsel. Besides, to justify past events, and perhaps 
 also to authorise their future designs, the colonists were glad to have 
 the shield of so great a name. They received with the same alacrity 
 the declaratory act, which the secretary of state transmitted to 
 America at the same time with that for the repeal of the stamp act. 
 
 Notwithstanding this expression of universal exultation, the public 
 mind was not entirely appeased. Secret grudges, and profound 
 resentments, still rankled under these brilliant appearances. The 
 restraints recently laid upon commerce, had caused a disgust no Jess 
 extreme than the stamp act itself, particularly in the northern pro- 
 vinces ; and the success of the first resistance encouraged ulterior 
 hopes. 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 91 
 
 During the late disturbances, men had become extremely conver- 
 sant with political disquisitions ; every charter, every right, had been 
 the subject of the strictest investigation ; and the Americans rarely, 
 if ever, pronounced against themselves. From these discussions 
 and debates, new opinions had resulted upon a great number of 
 points, and some of them strangely exaggerated, respecting the 
 rights of the Americans, and the nature of their relations with Great 
 Britain. The irritation and inflexibility of their minds had increased 
 in the same proportion, In this state of excitement, the shadow of 
 an encroachment upon their political or civil liberty would have 
 caused a sudden insurrection ; and the attentive observer might 
 easily have perceived, that the reconciliation between the colonies 
 and the mother country was more apparent than real ; and that the 
 first occasion would be seized, to break out afresh in discord and 
 revolt. 
 
 The occasion of new dissensions, and the elements of a new com- 
 bustion, originated in the provinces of Massachusetts and of New 
 York. The assembly of the former bore ill will to the governor, 
 Sir Francis Bernard, for being, as they believed, a foe to the cause 
 of America ; and having chosen for their speaker James Otis, one 
 of the warmest advocates of liberty existing in America at that 
 period, the governor refused to confirm the choice ; at which the 
 representatives were highly exasperated. Otis, meanwhile, to retali- 
 ate, succeeded in causing to be excluded from the assembly the offi- 
 cers of the crown, and the members of the superior court of judica- 
 ture, who were Hutchinson and Oliver. The governor, much 
 incensed, pronounced, on his part, the exclusion of six of the proposed 
 candidates for the speaker's chair. Thus the spirit of division was 
 reciprocally fomented. But the patriots went further still ; a^nd 
 procured a resolution of the assembly, that their debates should be 
 public, and that galleries should be constructed, for the accommoda- 
 tion of such as might wish to attend them ; this was promptly exe- 
 cuted. The intervention of the public at their deliberations encou- 
 raged the partisans of liberty, and disheartened the friends of power ; 
 the former were sure of increasing their popularity, by warmly advo- 
 cating the privileges of the colonies ; the latter, of incurring greater 
 aversion, and more universal hatred, in proportion to their zeal in 
 supporting the cause of the government. Hence, numbers were 
 deterred from taking part in the debates. The first had, besides, a 
 powerful advantage over them ; for it sufficed to render their adver- 
 saries odious to the people, to reproach them, true or false, with 
 having favored the stamp act. The secretary of state, along with 
 the act repealing the stamp act, had also sent the governors of the 
 provinces, a resolution of the house of commons, purporting, ' That 
 all persons, who, on account of the desire which they had manifested 
 to comply with, or to assist in carrying into execution, any acts of 
 
92 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK 111. 
 
 parliament, had suffered any injury or damage, ought to have full 
 compensation made to them, by the respective colonies in which such 
 injuries or damages were sustained.' The secretary had also 
 recommended to the governors, to be particularly attentive that such 
 persons should be effectually secured from any further insult or dis- 
 gust ; and that they might be treated with that respect and justice 
 which their merits towards the crown, and their past sufferings, 
 undoubtedly claimed. 
 
 It was principally in the province of Massachusetts, that these dis- 
 orders had taken place ; and the governor, Bernard, lost no time in 
 communicating to the assembly the resolution of the house of com- 
 mons ; but this he did in such intemperate language as gave great 
 offence to the representatives, and greatly imbittered, on both sides, 
 the misunderstanding already existing between them. Much alterca- 
 tion ensued ; in which the assembly armed itself sometimes with one 
 excuse, and sometimes with another, for not granting the indemnifi- 
 cations required ; till at length, resuming the further consideration of 
 the subject, and reflecting, on the one hand, that in any event the 
 parliament would have the power to raise the sum necessary for the 
 compensations, by imposing some new duty on the maritime ports, 
 and on the other, that this new resistance might render them odious 
 in the eyes of prudent men, as the refractory spirit of Massachusetts 
 had already been greatly censured, they resolved, that the indemni- 
 fications should be made, at the expense of the province ; and ac- 
 cordingly passed an act for granting compensation to the sufferers, and 
 general pardon, ajnnesty and oblivion, to the offenders ; to which the 
 king afterwards refused his sanction ; denying the authority of the 
 colonial assemblies to grant acts of general pardon. Meanwhile, the 
 indemnifications were made ; and the offenders were not prosecuted. 
 The assembly of New York appeared to receive the act of compen- 
 sation more favorably ; and the greater part of the sufferers were 
 indemnified. Golden, the lieutenant-governor, was alone refused 
 compensation ; the assembly alleging, that if the people had risen 
 against him, he had brought it upon himself by his misconduct. 
 
 But, in the same province, another dispute soon arose, which mani- 
 fested how imperfectly the seeds of discord were extinguished. 
 General Gage was expected at New York with a considerable body 
 of troops ; in consequence of which, the governor addressed a mes- 
 sage to the assembly, requesting it to put in execution the act of 
 parliament called the mutiny act, which requires, that in the colonies 
 where the royal troops are stationed, they shall be provided with 
 barracks and other necessary articles. The assembly complied only 
 in part with this requisition, and with evident repugnance. They 
 passed a bill for providing barracks, fire-wood, candles, bedding, and 
 utensils for the kitchen, as demanded ; but they refused to grant 
 salt, vinegar, and cider or beer ; saying, it was not customary to 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 93 
 
 furnish these articles to soldiers when in quarters, but only when 
 they are on the march. 
 
 The governor thought it prudent to acquiesce in this decision. 
 A-ui here is presented a striking; example of the mildness of the 
 Bnlish ministers at this epoch ; for, instead of resenting and chastis- 
 ing, as some advised, this new disobedience, they contented them- 
 selves with procuring a law to be pa&sed, by which it was enacted 
 that the legislative power of the general assembly of New York 
 should be totally suspended, until it fully complied with all the terms 
 of the requisition. The assembly afterwards obeyed ; and things 
 were restored to their accustomed order. 
 
 The same disputes were renewed in Massachusetts. Towards the 
 close of the year, some companies of artillery were driven, by stress 
 of weather, into the port of Boston. The governor was requested 
 to lodge them, and procure them the necessary supplies ; the coun- 
 cil gave their consent ; and the money was drawn from the treasury, 
 by the governor's order. Meanwhile, the assembly met ; and, desi- 
 rous of engaging in controversy, sent a message to the governor, to 
 inquire if any provision had been made for his majesty's troops, and 
 whether more were expected to arrive, to be quartered also in the 
 town ? The governor replied by sending them the minutes of the 
 council, with an account of the expenses incurred; and added, that 
 no other troops were expected. They had now ample matter for 
 discussions. They exclaimed, that the governor, in giving orders 
 for these supplies, upon the mere advice of his council, had acted, 
 in an essential point, contrary to the statutes of the province. They 
 added, however, some protestations of their readiness to obey the 
 orders of the king, when requested according to established usages. 
 
 This obstinacy of two principal provinces of America, this dispo- 
 sition to seek new causes of contention, sensibly afflicted those per- 
 sons in England who had shown themselves favorable to American 
 privileges ; and furnished a pretext for the bitter sarcasms of their 
 adversaries, who repeated, every where, that such were the fruits of 
 ministerial condescension, such was the loyalty, such the gratitude 
 of the colonists towards the mother country ! 
 
 ' Behold their attachment for public tranquillity ! Behold the 
 respect and deference they bear towards the British government ! 
 They have now thrown off the mask ; they now rush, without re- 
 straint, towards their favorite object of separation and independence. 
 It is quite time, to impose a curb on these audacious spirits; they 
 must be taught the danger of contending with their powerful progeni- 
 tors, of resisting the will of Great Britain. Since they are thus 
 insensible to the indulgence and bounty she has shown them in the 
 repeal of the stamp duty, they must be made to pay another ; both 
 to maintain the right, and compel them to contribute directly to the 
 common defence of the kingdom.' 
 
94 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 These suggestions were greatly countenanced by the landholders 
 of the British islands ; who persuaded themselves, that the more 
 could be raised by a tax laid upon the colonies, the more their own 
 burthens would be lessened. These opinions were also flattering to 
 British pride, which had been hurt to the quick by the revocation of 
 the stamp act, and still more profoundly stung by the repugnance of 
 the Americans to any submission. The king himself, who with 
 extreme reluctance, had consented to the repeal of the act, manifested 
 a violent indignation; and lord Bute, always his most intimate coun- 
 sellor, and generally considered as the author of rigorous councils, 
 appeared anew much disposed to lay a heavy hand upon the Ameri- 
 cans. Hence, about the last of July, an unexpected change of 
 ministry was effected. The duke of Grafton was appointed first 
 secretary of the treasury, in the place of the marquis of Rockingham ; 
 the earl of Shelburne, secretary of state, instead of the duke of 
 Richmond ; Charles Townsend, a man of versatile character, but of 
 brilliant genius, chancellor of the exchequer, in the room of William 
 Dowdeswell ; and finally, William Pitt, who had recently been cre- 
 ated viscount Pincent, and earl of Chatham, was promoted (1767) 
 to the charge of keeper of the seals. The new ministers, with the 
 exception, however, of the earl of Chatham, who was prevented by 
 his infirmities from taking part in the councils, resolved to impose 
 certain duties on tea, glass, and paints, upon their introduction into 
 the colonies of America. The bill was drawn up to be submitted 
 to parliament. No sooner was it convened, than Charles Townsend 
 began, vauntingly, to vociferate in the house of commons, that he 
 knew a mode of drawing a revenue from the colonies, without violat- 
 ing their rights or opinions. Grenville caught at the words, and 
 urged the minister to declare what it was, and to promise, that he 
 would bring it before parliament without delay. A short time after, 
 in effect, the chancellor of the exchequer moved in the house of 
 commons, to impose duties on tea, glass and colors, -imported from 
 England into the American colonies ; he proposed also, to suppress 
 the duties on teas that should be shipped from England, intended for 
 America; and impose a duty of three pence per pound, upon their 
 introduction into the American ports. These two bills were passed 
 without much opposition, and approved by the king. 
 
 In the preamble it was declared that the produce of the duties 
 should be applied to defray the expenses of the government and 
 administration of the colonies. In one article it was provided, that in 
 each province of North America should be formed a general civil 
 list, without any fixed limit; that is, that from the produce of the 
 new duties, a public fund should be composed, of which the govern- 
 ment might dispose immediately, even to the last shilling, for the 
 salaries and pensions to be paid in America. The ministers were 
 authorised to draw this money from the treasury, and employ it at 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 95 
 
 their discretion ; the surplus was to remain in the treasury, subject 
 to the disposal of parliament. It was also enacted, that the govern- 
 ment might, from the same funds, grant stipends and salaries to the 
 governors and to the judges, in the colonies, and determine the 
 amount of the same. These last measures were of much greater 
 importance than the taxes themselves, since they were entirely sub- 
 versive of the British constitution. 
 
 In effect, since the time of Charles II., the ministers had many 
 times attempted, but always without success, to establish a civil list, 
 or royal chamber, in America, independent of the colonial assem- 
 blies ; and yet Charles Tovvnsend, with his shrewd and subtle genius, 
 thus obtained, as it were, while sporting, this difficult point ; and 
 obtained it, while the remembrance of American opposition, in a mat- 
 ter of much less importance, was still recent ; while the traces of so 
 great a conflagration were still smoking ! These new measures pro- 
 duced another change of great importance ; the governors and the 
 judges being able to obtain, through the ministers, their respective 
 emoluments, from funds raised by an act of parliament, without the 
 intervention, and perhaps against the will of the colonial assemblies, 
 became entirely independent of the American nation, and of its 
 assemblies; and must found all their future hopes on the favor of the 
 general government alone, that is, of the British ministers. The act 
 imposing the new duties was to take effect on the 20th of November; 
 but as if it was apprehended in England that the new tax would be 
 too well received by the colonists ; and purposely to irritate their 
 minds, by placing before their eyes the impressive picture of the tax 
 gatherers to be employed in the collection of these duties, another 
 act was passed, creating a permanent administration of the cus'oms 
 in America. And, to crown such a measure, the city of Boston was 
 selected for the seat of this new establishment ; for such a purpose, 
 less proper than any other ; for no where were the inhabitants more 
 restless or jealous of their privileges ; which they interpreted with a 
 subtilty peculiar to themselves. 
 
 They were, besides, not accustomed to see among them an order 
 of financiers, lavishing in the refinements of luxury, the large emo- 
 luments to be defrayed with the money of the colonies, while they 
 were themselves constrained to observe the limits of an extremely 
 narrow mediocrity. From these causes combined, it resulted that 
 many commotions were excited anew among the Americans The 
 recent disturbances had given them a more decided inclination to- 
 wards resistance ; and their political researches had increased the 
 pretensions of rights, and the desire of a liberty more ample. As 
 this was an external tax, if more tranquil times had been chosen for 
 its introduction, and without the combination of so many circumstances, 
 which wounded them in their dearest interests, the people, perhaps, 
 would have submitted to it. But in such a state of things, what 
 
96 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 could have been expected from a tax, the produce of which was 
 destined to form a branch of the public revenue, and which exceed- 
 ed the limits of a commercial regulation, a thing which had already 
 furnished the subject of so much controversy ? It was too manifest 
 that the British government had resolved to renew its ancient preten- 
 sions, so long and firmly disputed, of establishing a public revenue in 
 foe colonies, by the authority of parliament. 
 
 Resistance, therefore, was every where promptly resolved ; and 
 as the passions, after being compressed for a time, when rekindled 
 in the human breast, no longer respect their ancient limits, but com- 
 monly overleap them with impetuosity; so the political writers of 
 Boston began to fill the columns of the public papers with new and 
 bold opinions respecting the authority of parliament. Already inti- 
 mations were thrown out, illusive to independence ; and it was assert- 
 ed, that freemen ought not to be taxed, any more than governed, 
 without their consent, given by an actual or virtual representation. 
 
 The legislative power of the parliament over the colonies was not 
 made the subject of doubt, but denied. Adopting the opinion of 
 those who in the two houses had opposed the repeal of the stamp 
 act, the patriots affirmed that all distinction between internal and 
 external taxes was chimerical, and that parliament had no right to 
 impose the one or the other ; that it had no power to make laws to 
 bind the colonies ; and, finally, they went so far as to maintain, that 
 not being represented in parliament, they were exempted from every 
 sort of dependence towards it. 
 
 The rights which the colonists pretended to enjoy, were explained 
 with great perspicuity, and a certain elegance of style, in a pamphlet 
 entitled, Letters from a Pennsylvania Farmer, to the inhabitants of 
 the English colonies. They were received with great and universal 
 favor ; the author was John Dickenson. 
 
 The excitement soon became general. New associations were 
 formed against the introduction of British manufactures, and in favor 
 of those made at home. A paper to this effect was circulated in 
 Boston, for such to subscribe as were disposed to become parties to 
 the confederacy ; they bound themselves by it not to purchase cer- 
 tain articles of commerce, after the last day of December. 
 
 But on the other hand, James Otis, from a motive unknown, 
 whether from levity of character, or because the most ardent are 
 frequently the least constant in their opinions, or because he really 
 was apprehensive that the colony of Massachusetts would be left alone 
 in the present controversy, passing from one extreme to the other, 
 pronounced a long discourse in favor of government. Notwithstand- 
 ing which, the league was approved at Providence, at Newport, and 
 in all Connecticut. The affair of these combinations, however, 
 advanced very slowly this time, in spite of all the efforts of tijbe most 
 zealous patriots. 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 97 
 
 1768. The assembly of Massachusetts opened their session at the 
 commencement of the year 1768, and immediately took into consi- 
 deration the subject of the new taxes ; a very elaborate letter was 
 addressed to Dennis de Berdt, their agent at London, instructing 
 him to make remonstrances. They protested their affection towards 
 Great Britain, and condemned all idea of independence, they gloried 
 in the English name, and their participation in the British constitu- 
 tion. ' The design,' they observed, ' to draw a public revenue from 
 the colonies, without their consent, is manifest ; a thing absolutely 
 contrary to the established laws, and to our rights. Though men 
 are known sometimes to disregard life, and even to contemn liberty, 
 they are always at least inviolably attached to their properly ; even 
 those who ridicule the ideas of right and justice, who despise faith, 
 truth and honor, and every law, divine and human, will put a high 
 value upon money ; the savages themselves, who inhabit the forests, 
 know and admit the right of property ; they are as strongly attached 
 to the bow, the arrow, and the tomahawk, to their hunting and fish- 
 ing ground, as other nations can be to gold or silver, and the most 
 precious objects. The Utopian schemes of levelling, and a com- 
 munity of goods, are as visionary and impracticable, as those which 
 vest all property in the crown, are arbitrary and despotic. Now, 
 what property can the colonists be conceived to have, if their money 
 may be granted away by others, without their consent ?' They 
 added a long enumeration of their rights, and of the commercial 
 advantages accruing to Great Britain, from her colonies ; they affirm- 
 ed, that stipends and salaries, granted by the crown to governors 
 and judges, were things of a nature to alarm the freemen of Ame- 
 rica ; that a more solid foundation for tyranny could not be laid, since 
 the judges in America hold their places, not as in England, during 
 good behavior, but during pleasure ; that the colonists were ready 
 to supply the subsidies necessary for the public service, without the 
 intervention of parliamentary authority ; that a standing army was 
 unnecessary in America ; that the inhabitants had an aversion to 
 these armies, as dangerous to their civil liberties ; that England her- 
 self, considering the examples of ancient times, ought to fear lest 
 these large bodies of mercenary troops, stationed in a country so 
 remote, might occasion another Caesar to arise, and usurp, at length, 
 the authority of his sovereign. They also complained of the new 
 board of customs, as tending to create a swarm of pensioners ; a 
 race ever obnoxious to the people, and prejudicial to the rectitude 
 and purity of manners. 'Can any thing be more extraordinary than 
 the suspension of the assembly of New York ? Liberty has no 
 longer an existence, and these assemblies are useless if, willing or not 
 willing, they must conform to the mandates of parliament. And 
 supposing also, what we deny, that the new laws are founded in 
 right, it is not the less certain that a real prejudice to the two nations 
 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
98 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 will be their result, and that the confidence and affection which have 
 hitherto united them, will experience, from their continuance, a signal 
 diminution. These are points which merit the serious consideration 
 of a good government. The colonists are riot insensible that it has 
 become fashionable in England, to speak with contempt of the colo- 
 nial assemblies ; an abuse from which the English have more to 
 apprehend than the Americans themselves ; for only a few reigns 
 back, the habit also prevailed of contemning the parliament ; and it 
 was even an aphorism with king James I. that the lords and com- 
 mons were two very bad copartners with a monarch, in allusion to 
 the ancient proverb, that supreme power declines all participation ; 
 and these attacks, though at present aimed at the colonial assemblies, 
 will one day be directed against the parliament itself.' 
 
 They concluded by recommending to their agent to exert his 
 utmost endeavors to defeat the projects of those who persisted with 
 obstinacy in their attempts to sow dissensions, and foment jealousy 
 and discord between the two parts of the realm ; dispositions, which, 
 if not promptly repressed, it was to be feared, would lead to irrepa- 
 rable mischief. 
 
 The assembly of Massachusetts wrote in similar terms to the earl 
 of Shelburne, and to general Conway, secretaries of state ; to the 
 marquis of Rockingham, to lord Camden, to the earl of Chatham, 
 and to the commissioners of the treasury. These letters, as usual, 
 recapitulated the rights of the colonies, and their grievances ; those 
 to whom they were addressed, were styled the patrons of the colo- 
 nies, the friends of the British constitution, the defenders of the 
 human race. The assembly of Massachusetts also addressed a peti- 
 tion to the king, with many protestations of loyalty, and strenuous 
 remonstrances against the grievances already mentioned. But not 
 content with these steps, and wishing to unite all the provinces in one 
 opinion, they took a very spirited resolution, that of writing to all the 
 other assemblies, that it was now full time for all to take the same 
 direction, and to march in concert towards the same object. This 
 measure gave the ministers no little displeasure, and they censured it, 
 in their letters to the governors, with extreme asperity. 
 
 The governor of Massachusetts, not without apprehensions from 
 the refractory spirit of this assembly, dissolved it. Nor should it be 
 omitted, that for a long time, there had existed an open breach 
 between these two authorities, which proceeded from no defect of 
 genius or experience in affairs, on the part of the governor, who pos- 
 sessed, on the contrary, an ample measure of both ; but he was 
 reputed a secret enemy to American privileges, and it was believed 
 that in his letters to the earl of Hillsborough, he had prompted the 
 government to acts of rigor, and exaggerated the colonial disturb- 
 ances. On the other hand, the representatives were of a lofty spirit, 
 and devotedly attached to their prerogatives. In this state of reci- 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 99 
 
 procal umbrage and jealousy, the smallest collision led to a dissen- 
 sion, and few were the affairs that could be concluded amicably. 
 In effect, it cannot be doubted, that the animosity which subsisted 
 between the assembly of so capital a province, and governor Ber- 
 nard, was one of the principal causes of the first commotions, and 
 eventually, of the American revolution. 
 
 The government of Great Britain, continually stimulated by the 
 exhortations of the governor, dissatisfied with the Bostonians, and 
 the inhabitants generally of the province of Massachusetts, was ap- 
 prehensive of new tumults ; and resolved to provide effectually for 
 the execution of the laws. Orders were despatched to general 
 Gage, to send a regiment, and even a more considerable force, if he 
 should deem it expedient, to form the garrison of Boston. It was 
 also determined, that a frigate, two brigs, and two sloops of war, 
 should be stationed in the waters of Boston, to aid the officers of the 
 customs in the execution of their functions. 
 
 At this same epoch, a violent tumult had occurred in this city. 
 The Bostonians, wishing to protect a vessel suspected of illicit traf- 
 fic, had riotously assailed and repulsed the officers of the revenue. 
 
 Informed of this event, general Gage detached two regiments in- 
 stead of one, to take up their quarters in Boston. At this news, the 
 inhabitants assembled, and sent a deputation to the governor, praying 
 him to inform them, if the reports in circulation, relative to a garri- 
 son extraordinary, were true ; and to convoke another assembly. 
 He answered, that he had indeed received some private intimation 6f 
 the expected arrival of troops, but no official notice ; that as to the 
 convocation of an assembly, he could take no resolution without the 
 orders of his majesty. 
 
 He flattered himself, that the people would become more submis- 
 sive, when, left to themselves, they should no longer have a rallying 
 point for sedition in the colonial assembly. He endeavored, there- 
 fore, to gain time ; inventing, every day, new motives for delaying 
 the session of the assembly. But this conduct produced an effect 
 directly contrary to his anticipations. The inhabitants of Boston, 
 having received the answer of the governor, immediately took an 
 unanimous resolution, sufficiently demonstrative of the real nature of 
 the spirit by which they were animated ; it was resolved, that, as there 
 was some probability of an approaching war with France, all the in- 
 habitants should provide themselves with a complete military equip- 
 ment, according to law ; and that, as the governor had not thought 
 proper to convene the general assembly, a convention should be con- 
 voked of the whole province. These resolutions were transmitted, 
 by circulars, to every part of Massachusetts ; and such was the con- 
 sent of opinions, that out of ninety-seven townships, ninety-six sent 
 their deputies to the convention of Boston. 
 
100 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 They met on the 22d of September. Wishing to proceed with 
 moderation, they sent a mtssage to the governor, assuring him that 
 they were, and considered themselves, as private and loyal individu- 
 als 5 but no less averse to standing armies, than to tumults and se- 
 dition. They complained, but in measured terms, of the new laws, 
 and the imputations of disloyalty with which they had been traduced 
 in England. Finally, they entreated the governor to convoke the 
 general assembly, as the only constitutional remedy that could be re- 
 sorted to in the present calamities. The governor answered haughtily, 
 as the troops already approached. The convention, after having 
 communicated what had occurred to De Berdt, the agent at London, 
 dissolved itself. 
 
 The day preceding their separation, the soldiers destined for the 
 garrison, arrived, on board a great number of vessels, in the bay of 
 Nantasket, not far from Boston. The governor requested the coun- 
 cil to furnish quarters in the city. The council refused ; alleging 
 that castle William, situated on a small island in the harbor, was 
 sufficiently roomy to receive the troops. But the commanders of 
 the corps had orders to take their quarters in the town. Meanwhile, 
 it was given out, that the Bostonians would not suffer the soldiers to 
 land. This menace, and especially the resolution of a general 
 armament, inspired the commanders of the royal troops with much 
 distrust. Consequently, general Gage, whose intention, it appears, 
 had been at first to land one regiment only, gave orders to colonel 
 Dalrymple to disembark the two, and to keep a strict guard in the 
 city. Accordingly, on the first of October, every preparation hav- 
 ing been made, the squadron, consisting of fourteen ships of war, 
 began to move, and took such a position as to command the whole 
 city ; the ships presented their broadsides, and the artillery was in 
 readiness to fire upon the town, in case of any resistance. The 
 troops began to disembark at one o'clock in the afternoon, without 
 receiving any molestation ; they immediately entered the town, with 
 their arms loaded, a suitable train of artillery, and all the military 
 parade usually displayed in such circumstances. The selectmen of 
 Boston being requested, in the evening, to provide quarters for the 
 soldiers, peremptorily refused. The governor ordered the soldiers 
 to enter and occupy the State House. Thus stationed, the main 
 guard was posted in front of this edifice, with two field pieces point- 
 ed towards it. The Bostonians were naturally much shocked at 
 these arrangements. They could not see, without extreme indigna- 
 tion, the palace of the public counsels, the ordinary seat of their ge- 
 neral assemblies, and the courts of judicature, occupied by so many 
 troops, and on all sides surrounded by such a display of arms. The 
 streets were full of tents, and of soldiers, continually coming and 
 going to relieve the posts ; who challenged at every moment the citi- 
 zens as they passed. The divine services were interrupted by the 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 101 
 
 continual beating of drums and the sound of fifes ; and all things 
 presented the image of a camp. The inhabitants experienced the 
 most insupportable constraint from a state of things not only extra- 
 ordinary, but even without example, in the province of Massachu- 
 setts. Cries of displeasure resounded from every quarter against 
 these new orders of the governor. The soldiers beheld the citizens 
 with an evil eye, believing them to be rebels ; the citizens detested 
 the soldiers, whom they looked upon as the instruments of an odious 
 project to abolish their rights, and sent to impose on them the yoke 
 of an unheard of tyranny. The most irritating language frequently 
 passed between them, and thus exasperated their reciprocal ani- 
 mosity. 
 
 It is true, however, that this display of military force so repressed 
 the multitude, that for a considerable space of time tranquillity was 
 preserved. 
 
 1769. But in England, the parliament having been convoked 
 about the close of the year 1768, the obstinacy of the Americans, 
 in refusing obedience to its new laws, determined the government to 
 adopt rigorous measures against the colonies, and especially against 
 the province of Massachusetts, where sedition had acquired the 
 profoundest roots. The parliament condemned, in the severest 
 terms, all the resolutions taken by this province. They approved 
 that the king should employ force of arms for the repression of the 
 disobedient ; and declared, that he had the right to cause the chief 
 authors of the disorders to be arrested, and brought to England for 
 trial, according to the statute of the 35th year of the reign of Henry 
 Vlil. 
 
 But these new measures of the English encountered a very ill 
 reception in America. The assembly of Virginia immediately took, 
 in the strongest terms that could be devised, the resolutions they 
 believed the most proper to secure their rights. They also drew up 
 a supplication to be presented to the king, with a view of exciting 
 his compassion towards an unfortunate people. He was conjured as 
 the father of his subjects, and as a clement king, to interpose his 
 royal intercession, and avert the evils which menaced and already 
 oppressed them ; his pity was implored, that he would not suffer the 
 colonists, who had no powerful protection, to be forced from their 
 firesides, wrested from the embraces of their families, and thrust 
 into dungeons, among robbers and felons, at the distance of three 
 thousand miles from their country, to linger until judges whom they 
 knew not should have pronounced their fate. A condition so deplo- 
 rable would leave them no other wish, no other prayer, but that 
 relenting death might soon deliver them from so many miseries. 
 These proceedings incurred the displeasure of the governor, who 
 dissolved them, with a severe reprimand. But they assembled in 
 another place, as private individuals ; and having chosen for their 
 
102 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 moderator Peyton Randolph, a man of great influence in the pro- 
 vince, they resorted, more strenuously than ever, to the ordinary 
 remedy of associations against the introduction of British manufac- 
 tures. The articles of the league having been circulated for the 
 purpose, were soon invested with all the signatures, not only of the 
 assembly, but of the entire province. The other colonies followed 
 the example, and adhered to the confederacy upon oath. The 
 inhabitants of Charleston, the capital of South Carolina, even dis- 
 continued all commerce with those of Rhode Island and of Georgia, 
 as well because they had refused to join this combination, or the 
 preceding, as because they had exercised an extensive contraband 
 traffic. But at length these provinces also concurred with the 
 others ; Georgia in September, Providence and Rhode Island a 
 month later. 
 
 In order to prevent the contraventions which avarice, or a secret 
 opposition, might have produced, committees of inspectors were 
 created, to examine the cargoes of all vessels arriving from England, 
 and to stigmatise with the censure specified in their regulations, 
 those who should violate their compact, by publishing their names in 
 the public papers, and declaring them enemies to the country ; and, 
 as the people were always ready to take those in hand who should be 
 thus denounced, the decrees of these committees were received with 
 general obedience, as if they had proceeded from the authority of 
 government. All were emulous to make use of the manufactures of 
 the country ; even the women, hitherto so decided in their taste for 
 English merchandise, not only renounced it, but took a laudable pride 
 in adorning themselves with objects of domestic manufacture. 
 
 It is not to be understood, however, that in the midst of this ge- 
 neral zeal and enthusiasm, there were no examples of persons, who, 
 governed by interest and a thirst of gain, these powerful motives of 
 the human breast, sought to make their profit of circumstances ; ex- 
 tolling, in public, the magnanimity of the American people, but derid- 
 ing it in their hearts, they addicted themselves to a secret commerce 
 in the merchandise proscribed. Even among those who preached 
 liberty, and affected to be called by its name, even among those who 
 with the most forwardness had embraced the league, there was more 
 than one individual who clandestinely bought and sold. The patriots 
 had declared with so much violence against tea, that, in several pro- 
 vinces, nearly all the inhabitants abstained from the use of it ; but 
 this first ardor having abated with time, many, either in secret, or 
 even openly, regaled themselves with this beverage, giving it some 
 other name. The British officers themselves, affecting a military 
 contempt for the civil laws, but not less than others mindful of pri- 
 vate interest, ordered merchandise from England in their own names, 
 as if destined for the use of their troops, which they secretly intro- 
 duced into the country. 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 103 
 
 Notwithstanding these infringements of the general compact, men 
 of integrity, as always happens, faithful to their public professions, 
 persisted in the retrenchments exacted by their pledge, from which 
 there eventually resulted an incalculable prejudice to the English 
 commerce. 
 
 The assembly of Massachusetts, having met, about the last of 
 May, immediately resumed the ancient controversy, and sent a mes- 
 sage to the governor, purporting that whereas the capital of the pro- 
 vince was invested with an armed force by land and sea, and the 
 gates of the State House occupied with cannon by a military guard, 
 the assembly could not deliberate with that freedom and dignity which 
 became them ; that they hoped, therefore, this hostile apparatus 
 would be removed from the city and port. The governor answered, 
 briefly, that he had no authority over his majesty's ships that were 
 moored in the port, or over the troops which occupied the city. 
 The assembly replied, that this display of armed force was contrary 
 to law ; and, no power being superior to that of arms, they asked, 
 what privilege, or what security, was left to the house ? that, where 
 arms prevail, the civil laws are silent ; that, therefore, the assembly 
 had resolved to abstain from all deliberation whatever, until it should 
 be re-established in all its authority. The governor adjourned it to 
 Cambridge, a town at a short distance from Boston ; and addressed 
 it a requisition for a supply of money for the troops. Without 
 noticing this demand, the assembly answered with new resolutions, 
 which discovered the extreme exasperation of their minds. They 
 represented that the discontent which had been excited in the pro- 
 vince by the tax laws, the expectation of more troops, the apprehen- 
 sion that they were to be quartered in private houses, and the people 
 reduced to desperation, were things which demonstrated the necessi- 
 ty of new conventions ; that the presence of a standing army in the 
 province in time of peace was a violation of their natural rights, and 
 imminently perilous to public liberty ; that governor Bernard, in his 
 letters to the earl of Hillsborough, had recommended new modes of 
 tyranny ; that general Gage, in writing that there was no longer a 
 government at Boston, had written the truth ; but that this ought not 
 to be attributed to an innocent and loyal people, but, in justice, to 
 those who had violated the laws, and subverted the foundations of 
 the constitution. At length, the governor having returned to the 
 charge for subsidies to subsist the troops, the assembly declared, that, 
 for their own honor, and the interest of the province, they could not 
 consent to grant them. South Carolina, Maryland, Delaware, and 
 New York, following the example of the provinces of Massachusetts 
 and Virginia, took the same resolutions, and refused obedience to 
 the mutiny act. 
 
 Meanwhile, the English government, willing to give some indica- 
 tion of a better spirit towards its colonies, announced to them its 
 
104 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 determination to propose, at the next session of parliament, the repeal 
 of the duties upon glass, paper, and colors ; thus maintaining only 
 the duty on tea. This new mildness did not satisfy the Americans ; 
 the exception of tea, and the declaration that the law should be ab- 
 rogated as contrary to the regulations of commerce, persuaded them 
 that it was intended to maintain the right ; and this in reality was the 
 truth. They were apprehensive that the affair might be revived 
 when the present heats were dissipated ; and that the government, 
 then proceeding with more address and vigor, might renew its at- 
 tempts to establish the authority of taxation forever. The assembly 
 of Virginia protested in stronger terms than at first. Combinations 
 were again formed, as well in this province as in Massachusetts and 
 the greater part of the others ; but they were this time upon the 
 point of being dissolved, by the defection of New York ; this province 
 authorised the importation of every species of English merchandise, 
 excepting such as were charged with some duty. 
 
 Governor Bernard was at length succeeded. He departed, with- 
 out leaving any regret ; which should be attributed to circumstances. 
 He was a man of excellent judgment, sincerely attached to the in- 
 terests of the province, and of an irreproachable character ; but he 
 was also a defender of the prerogatives of the crown, and wanted the 
 pliancy necessary in these difficult times ; ardent, and totally devoid 
 of dissimulation, he could never abstain from declaring his senti- 
 ments ; qualities, none of which, however laudable, can fail to prove 
 unprofitable, or rather pernicious, as well to him that possesses them,, 
 as to others, in the political revolutions of states ; for the multitude is 
 either indulged without profit, or opposed with detriment/ 
 
 Meanwhile, at Boston, things assumed the most serious aspect. 
 The inhabitants supported with extreme repugnance the presence 
 of the soldiers ; and these detested the Bostonians. Hence, mutual 
 insults and provocations occurred. 
 
 1770. Finally, on the morning of the 2d of March, as a soldier 
 was passing by the premises of John Gray, a ropemaker, he was 
 assailed with abusive words, and afterwards beaten severely. He 
 soon returned, accompanied by some of his comrades. An affray 
 ensued between the soldiers and the ropemakers, in which the latter 
 had the worst. 
 
 The people became greatly exasperated ; and, on the 5th of the 
 same month, between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, a 
 violent tumult broke out. The multitude, armed with clubs, ran 
 towards King street, crying, ' Let us drive out these ribalds ; they 
 have no business here.' The soldiers who were lodged in the 
 barracks of Murray, were eager to fail upon the populace ; and 
 their officers had the greatest difficulty in restraining them. Mean- 
 while, it was cried that the town had been set on fire ; the bells 
 pealed alarm, and the crowd increased from all parts. The rioters 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 107 
 
 deceived the ministers, as he used to say, by telling them the truth. 
 So corrupt, he added, were the men in power, that they reputed his 
 sincerity artifice, and the truth deception. Hence they blindly 
 abandoned themselves to illusions, that made them see things differ- 
 ent from what they were in reality, and with a bandage over their 
 eyes, they trod incessantly upon the brink of a precipice. 
 
 The 5th of March, lord North, who had been appointed by the 
 king, prime minister, proposed, in a speech to the house of commons, 
 the repeal of taxes, excepting that upon tea. Notwithstanding the 
 opposition of many members, who insisted that the Americans would 
 not be satisfied with this partial repeal, the proposition was finally 
 approved by a great majority. The predictions of the minority 
 were but too well verified in America ; the continuance of the duty 
 on tea had the effect to keep alive the same discontents. The com- 
 binations were dissolved, however, so far as related to the importa- 
 tion of merchandise not taxed ; the article of tea alone continued to 
 be prohibited. ' The fermentation maintained itself principally in the 
 province of Massachusetts, the local authorities of which were inces- 
 santly engaged in altercations with the officers of the crown. 
 
 On the whole, how many motives combined to create in America 
 an insurmountable resistance to the designs of the government ! On 
 the one hand, the obstinacy inherent to man, rendered still more 
 inflexible by obstacles, and the blood which had flowed, as also by 
 the love of liberty ; on the other, the species of triumph already 
 obtained by perseverance, and the opinion resulting from it, that not 
 from any spirit of indulgence, but a consciousness of inferior force, 
 the government had consented to revocations. The Americans 
 were, besides, persuaded that the rumors which daily increased, of 
 a war with France, would lay the British ministers under the neces- 
 sity of conceding all their demands; and finally, they' well knew 
 they had powerful protectors, both within and without the walls of 
 parliament. Such were the public occurrences in the colonies, 
 during the year 1770. 
 
 1771. In the course of the following year there happened few 
 that are worthy of memory ; only the ordinary altercations continued 
 between the assembly of Massachusetts and Hutchinson, who had 
 been appointed governor. All the provinces persisted in open resist- 
 ance to laws of taxation and of commerce ; smuggling was no longer 
 secretly but openly transacted. The officers of the customs had 
 fallen into utter contempt. In Boston, a tidesman of the customs, 
 having attempted to detain a vessel for breach of the acts of trade, 
 was seized by the people, stripped, and carted through the principal 
 streets of the city, besmeared with tar, and then covered with 
 feathers. There was some tumult, also, at Providence ; the inha- 
 bitants having plundered and burnt the king's ship Wasp. 
 

 108 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 1772. The government then reflected, that in such a distempered 
 state of minds, it could not hope to repress the boldness of the 
 Americans, and secure the observation of the laws, without resorting 
 to some more effectual means. It resolved, among others, to render 
 the officers of the crown totally independent of the colonial assem- 
 blies ; to effect this, it decided that the salaries and stipends of the 
 governors, judges, and other principal officers of the colonies, should, 
 in future, be fixed by the crown, and paid without the intervention 
 of the colonial assemblies. Immediately new commotions broke out 
 in America, and particularly in the province of Massachusetts, where 
 it was declared that those who should consent to be paid by the 
 crown, independently of the general assembly, should be deemed 
 enemies to the constitution, and supporters of arbitrary government. 
 Thus, all measures taken in England, to vanquish resistance, and 
 reestablish submission in America, not being sustained by an armed 
 force sufficient to coerce, tended to a result absolutely contrary. 
 
 And if the government meditated the display of greater vigor, the 
 Americans were occupied with the same thoughts. They were not 
 ignorant, that in popular agitations, nothing tends more directly to 
 the desired object, than having chiefs to direct the movements, 
 ascertain the opinions of all the members of the confederacy, and 
 act with concert in their respective operations. Accordingly, the 
 inhabitants of Massachusetts, following the suggestion of Samuel 
 Adams and James Warren, of Plymouth, formed a council of the 
 partisans of a new order of things, and established a species of poli- 
 tical hierarchy, by creating committees of correspondence in all the 
 cities and towns of the province ; all referring to the central commit- 
 tee of Boston. The chiefs were six in number, each of whom 
 commanded a division ; the chiefs of a division, in like manner, 
 commanded a subdivision, and a movement being given by the first, 
 was communicated progressively, and without delay, to the whole 
 province. These committees, or clubs, were composed of individu- 
 als of different characters ; some entered them mechanically, and 
 because they saw others do it ; some from attachment to the public 
 cause ; others to acquire authority, to gratify their ambition, or their 
 avarice ; others, finally, because they believed the general good is 
 the supreme law, and that all the maxims of private morals should 
 bend to this sovereign rule. All were resolved, or said they were 
 resolved, to secure the liberty of their country, or part with life in 
 the glorious attempt. 
 
 The governor affirmed, that the greater part of them were Athe- 
 ists, and contemners of all religion ; which made him wonder, he 
 said, to see deacons, and other members of the church, who pro- 
 fessed a scrupulous devotion, in league with characters of such a 
 description. 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 109 
 
 This new political order, instituted by the few, was soon adopted 
 by the whole province ; and every city, village, or town, had its 
 committee, which corresponded with the others. Their delibera- 
 tions and decrees were considered as the will and voice of the 
 people. 
 
 The minds of the inhabitants were thus regularly inflamed and 
 prepared for a general explosion. The other provinces imitated this 
 example. 
 
 The first occasion to act was offered to the committee of Boston, 
 by the determination of the government, to charge itself with the 
 salaries of the judges. Very spirited resolutions were framed, and 
 distributed profusely throughout the provinces. The committee ac- 
 companied them with a vehement letter, in which they exhorted the 
 inhabitants to rouse from their long slumber, to stand erect, and 
 shake off indolence ; ' now, whilst,' as it was said in the turgid 
 style of that epoch, ' the iron hand of oppression is daily tearing the 
 choicest fruits from the fair tree of liberty.' The effervescence 
 became as extreme as universal. 
 
 1773. Meanwhile, an event occurred, which supplied fresh fuel 
 to this fire, which already menaced a general conflagration. Doctor 
 Franklin, agent at London of several colonies, and particularly of 
 Massachusetts, had found means, it is not known how, to obtain, from 
 the office of state, the letters of governor Hutchinson, of lieutenant- 
 governor Oliver, and of some others adhering to the parly of govern- 
 ment in America. In these despatches, they acquainted the minis- 
 ters with all that passed in the colonies ; and delivered their opinions 
 with great freedom. They represented, that the members of the 
 American opposition were generally persons of little weight, auda- 
 cious and turbulent, but few in number; that they were even without 
 influence with the multitude ; that the mildness and forbearance of 
 the government had been the sole cause of their boldness ; that if it 
 should take vigorous measures, all would return to their duty ; they 
 recommended, especially, that the public officers should receive their 
 stipends from the crown. Franklin transmitted these letters to Mas- 
 sachusetts ; they were printed and distributed copiously in all parts 
 of the province. It is easy to imagine the ebullition they produced. 
 
 While the inhabitants of the colonies were thus exquisitely sensi- 
 ble to whatever they deemed hostile to their rights, resenting with 
 equal indignation the most trivial as the most serious attack, a reso- 
 lution was taken in England, which, if it had been executed, would 
 have given the victory to the government, and reduced the Ameri- 
 cans to the condition for which they demonstrated such an extreme 
 repugnance. Their obstinacy, in refusing to pay the duty on tea, 
 rendered the smuggling of it very frequent ; and their resolutions 
 against using it, although observed by many with little fidelity, had 
 greatly diminished the importation into the colonies of this commo- 
 
HO THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III, 
 
 dity. Meanwhile, an immense quantity of it was accumulated in the 
 warehouses of the East India company in England. This company 
 petitioned the king to suppress the duty of three pence per pound 
 upon its introduction into America, and to continue the six pence 
 upon its exportation from the ports of England ; a measure which 
 would have given the government an advantage of three pence the 
 pound, and relieved the Americans from a law they abhorred. The 
 government, more solicitous about the right than the revenue, would 
 not consent. The company, however, received permission to trans- 
 port tea, free of all duty, from Great Britain to America ; and to 
 introduce it there, on paying a duty of three pence. 
 
 Here it was no longer the small vessels of private merchants, who 
 went to vend tea, for their own account, in the ports of the colonies ; 
 but, on the contrary, ships of an enormous burthen, that transported 
 immense quantities of this commodity, which, by the aid of the pub- 
 lic authority, might easily be landed, and amassed in suitable maga- 
 zines. Accordingly, the company sent to its agents at Boston, New 
 York, and Philadelphia, six hundred chests of tea, and a proportion- 
 ate number to Charleston, and other maritime cities of the American 
 continent. 
 
 The colonists were now arrived at the decisive moment, when they 
 must cast the die, and determine their cause in regard to parliament- 
 ary taxes; for if the tea was permitted to be landed, it would be 
 sold, and the duty consequently paid. It was therefore resolved to 
 exert every effort to prevent the landing. Even in England, indi- 
 viduals were not wanting who fanned this fire ; some from a desire 
 to baffle the government, others from motives of private interest, and 
 jealousy at the opportunity offered the East India company to make 
 immense profits to their prejudice. They wrote, therefore, to Ame- 
 rica, encouraging a strenuous resistance. They represented to the 
 colonists, that this would prove their last trial ; and if they should 
 triumph now, their liberty was secured forever ; if they should yield, 
 they must bow their necks to the yoke of slavery ! The materials 
 were too well prepared and disposed, not to kindle. At Philadelphia, 
 those to whom the teas of the company were intended to be consign- 
 ed, were induced by persuasion, or constrained by menaces, to pro- 
 mise not in any mode to accept the proffered consignment. At New 
 York, captain Sears and Macdougall, daring and enterprising men, 
 effected a concert of will between the smugglers, the merchants and 
 the Sons of Liberty. Pamphlets, suited to the conjuncture, were 
 daily distributed ; and nothing was left unattempted, by the popular 
 leaders, to obtain their purpose. The factors of the company were 
 obliged to resign their agency, and return to England. In. Boston, 
 the general voice declared the time was come to face the storm. 
 Why do we wait f they exclaimed ; { soon or late, we must engage 
 m conflict with England. Hundreds of years may roll away, before 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. Ill 
 
 the ministers can have perpetrated as many violations of our rights as 
 they have committed within a few years. The opposition is formed ; 
 it is general ; it remains for us to seize the occasion. The more we 
 delay, the more strength is acquired by the ministers. Do you not 
 see how many arrogant youths they send us, to exercise the offices 
 of the revenue, to receive enormous salaries, and to infect us with 
 their luxury and corruption ? They will take American wives, and 
 will become powerful instruments of ministerial tyranny. This is the 
 moment to strike a decisive blow, while our cause is strong in hope ; 
 now is the lime to prove our courage, or be disgraced with our bre- 
 thren of the other colonies, who have their eyes fixed upon us, and 
 will be prompt in their succours, if we show ourselves faithful and 
 firm.' 
 
 The factors were urged to renounce their agency ; but they refus- 
 ed, and took refuge in the fortress. Immediately after, captain Hall 
 arrived in port, with a cargo of more than an hundred chests of 
 tea. The people instantly assembled, in great fury, and sent notice 
 to Rotch, the consignee of this cargo, that if he valued his safety and 
 interest, he must abstain from receiving the tea, and caution captain 
 Hall against attempting to land it. They also placed a guard on 
 Griffin's wharf, near which the ship was moored. It was agreed, that 
 a strict watch should be kept ; that, in case of any insult during the 
 night, the bell should be rung immediately ; that some persons should 
 be always in readiness to bear the intelligence of what might occur 
 to the neighboring towns, and to call in the assistance of the country 
 people. 
 
 The committees of correspondence performed their duty with ac- 
 tivity. Captains Bruce and Coffin having arrived, with other cargoes 
 of tea, they were ordered to cast anchor near captain Hall. The 
 people from the country arrived in great numbers ; the inhabitants of 
 the town assembled. Rotch was requested to demand a certificate 
 of clearance, that captain Hall might put back to sea with his ship. 
 
 Things appeared hastening to a disastrous issue. In this conjunc- 
 ture, Josiah Quincy, a man of great influence in the colony, of a 
 vigoro.us and cultivated genius, and strenuously opposed to ministerial 
 enterprises, wishing to apprise his fellow citizens of the importance 
 of the crisis, and direct their attention to results, demanded silence, 
 and said, ' This ardor, and this impetuosity, which are manifested 
 within these walls, are not those that are requisite to conduct us to 
 the object we have in view; these may cool, may abate, may vanish, 
 like a flitting shade. Quite other spirits, quite other efforts, are es- 
 sential to our salvation. Greatly will he deceive himself, who shall 
 think, that with cries, with exclamations, with popular resolutions, we 
 can hope to triumph, in this conflict, and vanquish our inveterate foes. 
 Their malignity is 4m placable,- their thirst of vengeance insatiable. 
 They have their allies, their accomplices, even in the midst of us, 
 
112 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 even in the bosom of this innocent country ; and who is ignorant of 
 the power of those who have conspired our ruin f who knows not 
 their artifices ? Imagine not, therefore, that you can bring this con- 
 troversy to a happy conclusion, without the most strenuous, the most 
 arduous, the most terrible conflict. Consider attentively the difficul- 
 ty of the enterprise, and the uncertainty of the issue. Reflect and 
 ponder, even ponder well, before you embrace the measures which 
 are to involve this country in the most perilous enterprise the world 
 has witnessed.' 
 
 The question was put, whether the landing of the tea should be 
 opposed ? and carried in the affirmative unanimously, Rotch was 
 then requested to demand of the governor a permit to pass the castle. 
 The latter answered, haughtily, that for the honor of the laws, and 
 from duty towards the king, he could not grant the permit until the 
 vessel was regularly cleared. A violent commotion immediately en- 
 sued. A person disguised after the manner of the Indians, who was 
 in the gallery, shouted, at this juncture, the cry of war; the meeting 
 was dissolved in the twinkling of an eye. The multitude rushed in 
 mass to Griffin's wharf. About twenty persons, also disguised as In- 
 dians, then made their appearance ; all either masters of ships, car- 
 penters or caulkers. They went on board the ships laden with tea. 
 In less than two hours, three hundred and forty chests were staved, 
 and emptied in the sea. They were not interrupted ; the surround- 
 ing multitude on shore served them as a safe guard. The affair was 
 conducted without tumult ; no damage was done to the ships, or to 
 any other effects whatever. When the operation was terminated, 
 every one repaired to his own habitation, either in the city or in the 
 country. 
 
 In New York and in Philadelphia, as no person could be found 
 that would venture to receive the tea, the ships of the company, 
 which had arrived in these ports, returned, with their cargoes, to 
 England. In the former city, however, captain Chamber having on 
 board his ship some chests of tea for account of a private merchant, 
 they were thrown into the sea. At Charleston, the tea was permitted 
 to be landed ; but, having been deposited in certain humid cellars, 
 it perished. 
 
 1774. The news of these events having come to the ears of the 
 ministers, they determined to take more vigorous measures. The 
 province of Massachusetts, and especially the city of Boston, had 
 always stood foremost in resistance, had been the scene of the great- 
 est disorders, and appeared the head-quarters of sedition. The 
 ministers therefore resolved to distinguish them by the first marks 
 of their displeasure. They hoped that the principal agitators being 
 thus repressed, the rest would voluntarily return to submission. Con- 
 sidering, also, that the city of Boston was very flourishing; that it was 
 accounted not only one of the most commercial cities of the conti- 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 nent, but even considered as the emporium of all the provinces of 
 New England ; it is not surprising that they should have taken the 
 resolution to deprive it entirely of its commerce, by tneans of a ri- 
 gorous interdict, and turn it all towards some other maritime city of 
 this coast. It was thought, likewise, that the civil magistrates, who, 
 according to the statutes of the province, were chosen by the people, 
 ought, for the future, to be appointed by the government ; that, 
 placed thus entirely under its influence, 'they might no longer be in- 
 clined to favor the popular tumults, but become, from duty as well as 
 inclination, interested to suppress them, by requiring the necessary 
 assistance from the military authorities ; for it was seen that the 
 late tumults owed their origin and alarming increase to the inactivity 
 of the military, which, according to the established laws, could not 
 interfere without the requisition of the civil magistrates, from which 
 they had purposely abstained. It was also in deliberation to pass a 
 law for enabling the soldiers to execute with perfect security the 
 orders they might receive for the suppression of tumults, without any 
 fear of consequences. The ministers expected thus to create divi- 
 sions, to render the civil magistrates absolutely dependent on the 
 government, and to reestablish the soldiery in that independence 
 which is essential to the complete exertion and efficacy of their force. 
 But whoever has a competent share of natural capacity, and a slight 
 acquaintance with political affairs, will readily see how wide were 
 these resolutions of the British ministers from corresponding with the 
 urgency of circumstances. Is it not surprising, that a government 
 like that of England, which at all times had exhibited the evidences 
 of an extreme ability, and of singular energy, having before its eyes 
 the example of the revolutions of Switzerland and of Holland, well 
 knowing the inflexible pertinacity inherent to the American people, 
 and the astonishing unity of sentiments they had recently manifested 
 in all their movements, is it not even astonishing, that this govern- 
 ment could have brought itself to believe, that the blocking up a port 
 and change of some old statutes, things that tended more to irritate 
 than coerce, would suffice to curb such headlong fury, vanquish such- 
 unyielding obstinacy, dissolve a league so formidable, and reesta- 
 blish obedience where rebellion had already commenced its impetu- 
 ous career ? The display of a formidable force, and not the reforms 
 of charters, presented the only mode of promptly terminating the 
 contest, maintaining the ancient order of things, and restoring tran- 
 quillity in America. 
 
 The ministers ought to have been the more prompt in their mili- 
 tary preparations, as they should not have been ignorant that France 
 secretly encouraged these commotions, and was no stranger to their 
 ultimate object. Arms were not wanting ; they abounded. Due 
 forecast, or the requisite vigor, were indeed wanting in the British 
 councils. Twenty or thirty thousand men, sent to America immedi- 
 
 VOL. I. 15. 
 
114 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK HI, 
 
 ately after the commencement of the disorders, would indubitably 
 have surmounted all resistance, and reestablished obedience ; which 
 it was idle to expect from a few modifications of the laws. England, 
 in this instance, appeared to have forgotten the familiar aphorism, that 
 wars, to be short, must be vigorous and terrible. 
 
 Nor could it be alleged, that the principles of the British constitu- 
 tion would not have permitted the sending of a regular army into a 
 British province, and in time of peace ; for, if the parliament sub- 
 verted the fundamental statutes of the province of Massachusetts, and 
 destroyed the most essential bases of the constitution itself, by the 
 laws it was about to enact, it could also have authorised the presence 
 of an efficient standing army. But lord Bute, the favorite counsellor 
 of the king, and author of most of the secret resolutions, was a man 
 whose passions were more remarkable than his sagacity ; and lord 
 North, the prime minister, was rather an accurate and laborious finan- 
 cier, than a statesman. He had formed about him a council of the 
 most celebrated lawyers of the kingdom, to have their advice upon 
 the present state of affairs ; and too many examples attest, what is to 
 be expected from these doctors, when, with their schemes, and sophis- 
 tical refinements, they undertake to interfere in the government of 
 states, and to direct the revolutions of nations. Good armies, large 
 and vigorous measures, are the only means of success in such cir- 
 cumstances. In critical moments, the direction of affairs should be 
 confided to men of firmness and decision, not to those whose cautious 
 timidity can venture only half measures ; and who are incapable of 
 embracing a magnanimous policy. 
 
 Lord North, on the 14th of March, proposed in the house of com- 
 mons a bill, of the following purport; that, dating from the 1st of 
 June, 1774, it should he prohibited to land or discharge, lade or em- 
 bark, any goods, wares, or merchandise, whatsoever, at the town or 
 within the harbor of Boston ; and that the officers of the customs 
 should be transferred immediately to the port of Salem. The minis- 
 ter remarked, that this law was no less necessary than just ; as from 
 this city had issued all the mischief which disturbed the colonies, and 
 all the venom that infected America. 
 
 'Thrice already have the officers of the customs been prevented 
 from discharging their duty. At the epoch of the disorders, the inha- 
 bitants, instead of interfering to appease them, maintained regular 
 guards, day and night, to prevent the landing of tea and other Bri- 
 tish merchandise. Nay, more ; still fearing it might be landed, with 
 an excess of popular insolence, absolutely unheard of, they have 
 thrown into the sea the tea of the East India company. The mea- 
 sure proposed is more severe in appearance than in reality ; for the 
 Bostonians may cause it to cease, by yielding due respect to the laws. 
 A few frigates stationed at the entrance of the harbor, will be suffi- 
 cient to carry it into effect, without calling in the aid of the military. 
 
UOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 115 
 
 It is now quite time to assume a firm attitude, and to take such vigor- 
 ous steps as shall intimately persuade the Americans that England 
 has not only the power, but also the will, to maintain them in obedi- 
 ence. In a word, that she is unalterably determined to protect her 
 laws, her commerce, her magistrates and her own dignity.' 
 
 The project of the minister was opposed by the agent of Massa- 
 chusetts, named Bollan, and by several orators of the house of com- 
 mons, among whom Burke and Dovvdeswell appeared the most 
 animated ; 
 
 ' It is wished, then, to condemn the accused without a hearing, 
 to punish indiscriminately the innocent with the guilty ! You will thus 
 irrevocably alienate the hearts of the colonists from the mother coun- 
 try. Before the adoption of so violent a measure, the principal 
 merchants of the kingdom should at least be consulted. The bill is 
 unjust; since it bears only upon the city of Boston, whilst it is noto- 
 rious that all America is in flames ; that the cities of Philadelphia, 
 of New York, and all the maritime towns of the continent, have ex- 
 hibited the same disorders. You are contending for a matter which 
 the Bostonians will not give up quietly. They cannot, by such means, 
 be made to bow to the authority of ministers ; on the contrary, you 
 will find their obstinacy confirmed, and their fury exasperated. The 
 acts of resistance in their city have not been confined to the popu- 
 lace alone ; but men of the first rank and opulent fortune, in tjie 
 place, have openly countenanced them. One city in proscription, 
 and the rest in rebellion, can never be a remedial measure for gene- 
 ral disturbances. Have you considered whether you have troops and 
 ships sufficient to reduce the people of the whole American continent 
 to your devotion ? It was the duty of your governor, and not of men 
 without arms, to suppress the tumults. If this officer has not de- 
 manded the proper assistance from the military commanders, why pun- 
 ish' the innocent for the fault and the negligence of the officers of the 
 crown ? Who is ignorant that certain foreign powers wait only for an 
 occasion to move against England ? And will England now offer them 
 this object of their desires ? The resistance is general in all parts of 
 America ; you must therefore let it govern itself by its own internal 
 policy, or make it subservient to all your laws, by an exertion of all 
 the forces of the kingdom. These partial counsels are well suited to 
 irritate, not to subjugate.' 
 
 Notwithstanding all these arguments, the ministers obtained an 
 immense majority of the suffrages ; and the bill passed, almost with- 
 out opposition. 
 
 A few days after, lord North proposed another law, which went to 
 subvert entirely the fundamental statutes of Massachusetts, by invest- 
 ing the crown with the power to appoint the counsellors, judges and 
 magistrates of all denominations ; with the clause that each should hold 
 his office during the pleasure of the king. Thus the people of Mas- 
 
116 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 sachusetts no longer had authority lo interfere, either directly or by 
 their representatives, in the administration of the province, which be- 
 came, therefore, completely dependent on the government; as the 
 latter controlled, at will, the measures of all the civil authorities. 
 
 The ministers alleged, that in doing this, no more was attempted 
 than to place that province on the same footing as several others ; 
 that the government did not, at present, possess a sufficient share of 
 power, too much being lodged in the hands of the people ; 
 
 4 If such a state of things be suffered lo continue, it will no longer 
 be possible to repress the seditious, and prevent the repetition of dis- 
 orders. The magistrates, so long as they are chosen by the people, 
 will never attempt to resist them ; but, on the contrary, will endeavor 
 to flatter their caprices, than which nothing can be imagined more 
 fatal, or more contrary to the public repose. In this province, all is 
 confusion and uproar. In desperate cases, the most active remedies 
 are necessary. Such is the crisis of the moment, that we must either 
 renounce all supremacy over America, or curb with more effectual 
 means these unruly spirits ; and, in such an extremity, what is the 
 use of cavils and subtile distinctions ?' 
 
 But the members of the opposition, and the agents of Massachu- 
 setts, represented, on their part, that the measure proposed was 
 flagrantly tyrannical ; that this alone, setting aside the affair of taxa- 
 tion, was more than sufficient to excite the greatest commotions in 
 America. 
 
 ' What can the Americans believe, but that England wishes to de- 
 spoil them of all liberty, of all franchises ; and, by the destruction of 
 their charters, to reduce them to a state of the most abject slavery r 
 It is a thing of no little peril, however, to undertake the reformation 
 of charters. The princes of the house of Stuart found it so ; who 
 lost the crown in attempting to gratify so fatal an ambition. Great 
 Britain has always held similar proceedings in just abhorrence ; and 
 how can she now herself pretend to imitate them ? Hitherto the Ame- 
 ricans have only complained of the loss of one of their immunities; 
 'but, at present it is proposed to usurp them all. The other colonies 
 will believe, that what is commenced in Massachusetts, will soon be 
 introduced in each of them ; and thus, it cannot be doubted, they will 
 all combine to oppose such attempts in the outset. As the Americans 
 are no less ardently attached to liberty than the English them- 
 selves, can it even be hoped they will submit to such exorbitant 
 usurpations, to such portentous resolutions ?' 
 
 These, with other considerations were advanced, by those who 
 advocated the American cause ; but all was in vain. The bill was 
 passed, by an immense majority. 
 
 Lord North then proposed a third, by which it was provided, that 
 in case any individual should be questioned, in the province of Mas- 
 sachusetts, for homicide, or other capital offence, and it should ap- 
 
iiOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 117 
 
 pear to the governor, that the act was done in the execution of the 
 Jaw, or in assisting any magistrate to suppress tumults, and that a just 
 and impartial trial was not to be expected in the province, the same 
 governor should have authority to send the accused to take his trial 
 in another colony, or, if expedient, even in Great Britain. This act 
 was to be in force, for the term of four years. 
 
 The minister insisted in his discourse, that, without the measure 
 proposed, those whose office it was to enforce the execution of the 
 laws, would be very remiss in the discharge of this duty, having no 
 hope to find, in case of need, an impartial tribunal to judge them. 
 'It is impossible, without inconsistency, to commit the trial of such 
 persons to those against whom, in obedience to the laws, they may 
 have acted. The bill now submitted will crown the resolutions taken 
 with respect to the colonies ; your work, without this, would remain 
 unfinished and defective. We must consider, that every thing we 
 have, that is valuable to us, is at stake ; and the question at issue is 
 very shortly this, Whether the Americans shall continue the subjects 
 of Great Britain or not ? 1 feel assured of a good result, when all 
 these new arrangements shall be carried properly into execution.' 
 
 But colonel Barre, and Edmund Burke, opposed the minister with 
 great warmth ; and spoke, in substance, as follows ; ' This is indeed 
 the most extraordinary resolution that was ever heard in the parlia- 
 ment of England. It offers new encouragement to military insolence, 
 already so insupportable ; which is the more odious, in the present 
 case, as the soldiers are expected to act against their own fellow citi- 
 zens ! By this law, the Americans are deprived of a right which 
 belongs to every human creature, that of demanding justice before 
 a tribunal composed of impartial judges. Even captain Preston, 
 who, in their own city of Boston had shed the blood of citizens, 
 found among them a fair trial, and equitable judges. It is an idea 
 so extravagant, this of taking the trial over the Atlantic seas, three 
 thousand miles, to Great Britain, where the prisoner may call upon 
 and subpoena as many witnesses as he pleases, that it is hard to con- 
 ceive how it could have entered the brain of any man in his senses. 
 Instead of stimulating the audacity of regular troops, on the contrary, 
 the provincial militia should be encouraged, that they may serve as 
 a shield and a bulwark against them in favor of civil liberty. To 
 approve this law .is equivalent to a declaration of war against the 
 colonies. Let us but look a little into our behavior. When we are 
 insulted by Spain, we negotiate ; when we dispute with our brethren 
 of America, we prepare our ships and our troops to attack them. 
 In the one house of parliament, ' we have passed the Rubicon ;' in 
 the other, delenda est Carthago* But I see nothing in the present 
 measures, but inhumanity, injustice, and wickedness; and I fear that 
 the hand of heaven will fall down on this unhappy country, with the 
 same degree of vengeance we desire to wreak on our brethren of 
 
118 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 America. And what is the unpardonable offence the Americans 
 have been guilty of? Of no other but that of refusing: their consent 
 to an act that was contrary to the written laws, and to the unalterable 
 principles of the British constitution. And if England herself, in 
 certain ancient times, had not resisted such arbitrary laws, should 
 we have enjoyed our present free government, or should we have 
 existed as a house of commons here this day ?' 
 
 Lord Germaine, having risen, spoke thus on the side of ministers ; 
 { If I believed that the measure in question could be deemed unjust 
 and tyrannical, I certainly should not undertake to support it against 
 such vehement attacks. But as I think it, on the contrary, not only 
 just, but seasonable and necessary, I shall freely defend it, even at 
 the risk, in so doing, of wounding the delicate ears of the orators 
 seated opposite. The trial of the military on this side of the water 
 has been much objected to. What is it, sir, but a protection of in- 
 nocence ? Can any thing be more desirable to generous minds, 
 than that? America, at this instant is nothing but anarchy and con- 
 fusion. Have they any one measure, but what depends upon the 
 will of a lawless multitude ? Where are the courts of justice ? Shut 
 up. Where are your council ? Where is your governor ? All of 
 them intimidated by the infuriate rabble. Can you expect, in the 
 midst of such tumults, in the midst of such ferocious anarchy, that 
 these men could have a fair trial ? No ; assuredly not. It has been 
 observed, that we negotiated, however, with Spain. But the Span- 
 iards disavowed the fact, and acknowledged our right with respect 
 to the Falkland Islands ; whereas, the contumacious Americans con- 
 tinue to resist and deride us ! It is objected, that these proceedings 
 are to deprive persons of their natural right. Let me ask, of what 
 natural right ? Whether that of smuggling, or of throwing tea over- 
 board ? or of another natural right, which is not paying their debts ? 
 But surely this bill does not destroy any of their civil rights. You 
 have given the innocent man a fair trial. It is not a military govern- 
 ment that is established ; but the alteration of a civil one, by which 
 it is made conformable to existing circumstances. If peace, if obe- 
 dience to the laws and legitimate authorities, are still to be reesta- 
 blished in the province of Massachusetts, this is the only measure 
 that can conduct us to a result so desirable. 
 
 The question being put, it was resolved in the affirmative ; an 
 hundred arid twenty-seven voted in favor of the bill, and only twenty- 
 four against. 
 
 Notwithstanding the resolutions recently taken, which were to pro- 
 duce such salutary effects in the colonies, the government reflected 
 that the Americans might possibly proceed to the last extremities, 
 and thus render it necessary to use open force to reduce them ; the 
 ministers therefore thought it might be well to secure a place near 
 the colonies, where they could make the necessary preparations, and 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. Ill) 
 
 disembark, upon occasion, their troops and munitions of war, without 
 obstacles, without discontent on the part of the inhabitants, and, 
 especially, without these eternal complaints of the violation of rights 
 and of statutes. For such a purpose, no province appeared more 
 suitable than Canada, which, from its situation, was well adapted to 
 overawe the colonies where the late tumults had arisen. But, to 
 facilitate this design, it was requisite to satisfy the Canadians, who, 
 till very lately, having been French, were not yet accustomed to the 
 laws of their new masters, and were even much inclined to detest 
 them. The Canadian nobility, heretofore possessed of great autho- 
 rity in their province, complained that they had no longer so consi- 
 derable a part in public affairs, as they had enjoyed under the 
 French domination. The people, professing generally the Catholic 
 religion, were dissatisfied because they were not permitted to par- 
 take of all the privileges and civil advantages enjoyed by Protestant 
 subjects. 
 
 These motives determined the government to extend the authority 
 of the nobility, and establish a perfect equality of rights between 
 the Catholics and Protestants. Accordingly, upon the motion of 
 lord North, the parliament passed an act, establishing, in the pro- 
 vince of Canada, a legislative council, invested with all powers, 
 except that of imposing taxes. It was provided, that its members 
 should be appointed by the crown, and continue in authority during 
 its pleasure ; that the Canadian subjects professing the Catholic 
 faith, might be called to sit in this council ; that the Catholic clergy, 
 wieh the exception of the regular orders, should be secured in the 
 enjoyment of their possessions, and of their tithes towards all those 
 who professed the same religion ; that the French laws, without jury, 
 should be reestablished, preserving, however, the English laws, with 
 trial by jury, in criminal cases. It was also added, in order to 
 furnish the ministers with a larger scope for their designs, that the 
 limits of Canada should be extended so as to embrace the territory 
 situated between the lakes, the river Ohio and the Mississippi. Thus, 
 it was hoped, that, being flanked by a province reduced to a state of 
 absolute dependence on the government, and with this bridle, as it 
 were, in the mouth, the Americans would no longer dare to renew 
 their accustomed sallies. 
 
 In the last place, a bill was proposed and passed, which authorised, 
 in case of exigency, the quartering of soldiers in the houses of 
 citizens. 
 
 These new laws were received in England with universal applause; 
 as a general and violent indignation had been excited there, by the 
 insolence and enormities of the Americans. The bill of Quebec, 
 however, as that of Canada was called, found a much less cordial 
 reception. It even occasioned much murmuring among the English 
 people. < The other laws,' it was said, ' are just and proper, because 
 
120 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 they tend to establish English authority over the seditious ; but this 
 is an attempt against the national liberty and religion.' 
 
 Governor Hutchinson, become odious to the Americans, was suc- 
 ceeded by general Gage, a man much known, and highly respected, 
 in America. He was invested with the most ample authority, to 
 pardon and remit, at discretion, all treason or felony, and even all 
 murders or crimes, of whatever denomination, as also all forfeitures 
 and penalties whatsoever, which the inhabitants of Massachusetts 
 might have incurred. 
 
 An universal curiosity prevailed, to know the result of the new 
 measures taken by the English ministers, and what would be the issue 
 of a contest, in which all the authority of a most ancient and powerful 
 kingdom, formidable even from the terror of its name, and the recent 
 glory of its arms, combatted against the obstinacy of a people natu- 
 rally headstrong, and attached to their privileges almost to infatuation. 
 Nor did the course of events remain long in doubt. For, upon the 
 arrival in Boston of the news of the port bill, a meeting of the inha- 
 bitants was immediately called ; in which, the act was declared to be 
 unjust and cruel; they made their appeal to God and to the world. 
 A vast c humber of copies of the act were printed and dispersed 
 throughout the colonies; and, to make the deeper impression on the 
 multitude, the copies were printed on mourning paper, bordered with 
 black lines ; and they were cried through the country, as the ' 6ar- 
 barous, ci'uel, sanguinary and inhuman murder. 1 In many places, 
 it was burnt with great solemnity by the assembled multitude. 
 
 In the midst of this effervescence, general Gage arrived at Boston; 
 where, notwithstanding the general agitation, he was received with 
 distinction, 
 
 The committee of correspondence perceived all the importance 
 of uniting in a common sentiment the committees of the other colo- 
 nies ; but they also felt the constraint of their present position ?i since 
 the particular interests of Boston were now especially concerned. 
 They wrote, therefore, with a modest reserve, and their letters mere- 
 ly expressed a hope, that the city of Boston would be considered as 
 suffering for the common cause. 
 
 The flames of this combustion were soon communicated to all 
 parts of the continent ; there was not a place that did not convene its 
 assembly, that did not despatch its letters, animated with the same 
 spirit ; the praises, the congratulations, the encouragements, addressed 
 to the Bostonians, were without end. The province of Virginia was 
 also on this occasion prompt to give the signal and the example ; 
 its assembly was in session when the news arrived of the Boston 
 port bill. It was immediately resolved, that the first of June, the 
 time prefixed for the law to take effect, should be observed by all 
 as a day of fasting, prayer and humiliation ; that on this day, the 
 divine mercy should be supplicated, that it would deign to avert the 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 121 
 
 calamities which threatened the Americans with the loss of their 
 rights, and a civil war ; that it would inspire all hearts and all minds 
 with the same affections and with the same thoughts, that they might 
 effectually concur in the defence of their liberty. The other cities 
 followed this example. The popular orators in the public halls, and 
 the ministers of religion in the churches, pronounced discourses 
 adapted to inflame the people against the authors of the usurpations, 
 and all the evils of which the Bostonians were the victims. The go- 
 vernor thought it prudent to dissolve the assembly of Virginia. But 
 prior to their separation, they contracted a league, by which they de- 
 clared, that the attempt by coercion, to induce one of the colonies to 
 consent to an arbitrary tax, was to be considered as an outrage com- 
 mon to all ; that in such a case, it was just and necessary that all 
 should unite, with one consent, to oppose such pernicious, such detest- 
 able counsels. Not content with this, they adopted a resolution, which 
 was the most important of all ; it purported that all the colonies should 
 be invited to choose deputies, to convene every year, in a general 
 congress, to deliberate in common upon the general interests of 
 America. 
 
 In Boston, the general assembly of the province having met, the 
 new governor informed the house, that on the first of June, in con- 
 formity to the port bill, their sittings must be transferred to Salem. 
 But perceiving, that, to avoid this translation, they hastened to termi- 
 nate the affairs in deliberation, he adjourned them himself to Salem, 
 for the 7th of June. When reassembled in this place, the house 
 immediately took into consideration the events of the day. The 
 leaders, among whom Samuel Adams was the most active, had pre- 
 pared the resolutions. The assembly decreed that a general congress 
 should be convoked ; they elected the deputies that were to repre- 
 sent the province in the same, and made provision for their expenses. 
 
 Maryland held its assembly at Annapolis ; South Carolina, at 
 Charleston ; Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia ; Connecticut, at New 
 London; Rhode Island, at Newport; and, in a word, all the pro- 
 vinces, from New Hampshire to South Carolina, pursued one course; 
 all adhered to the measure of holding a general congress, and elected 
 their deputies accordingly. No province sent less than two, or more 
 than seven representatives. The city of Philadelphia being rich, 
 flourishing and populous, and forming a central point between the 
 provinces of the north and those of the south, was chosen for the 
 seat of the general congress. 
 
 The associations against British commerce were also resumed with 
 great spirit ; the provincial assemblies, the town meetings, and the 
 committees of correspondence, all cooperated, with admirable effect, 
 in promoting the same object. Had it been possible to increase the 
 animosity and indignation already kindled by the Boston port bill, 
 they must have redoubled at the news of the two other acts, con- 
 VOL. i. 16 
 
122 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 cernine; the civil administration of Massachusetts, and that of Quebec. 
 The Boston committtee of correspondence originated a motion, upon 
 this occasion of great moment ; it was to form a general combina- 
 tion, which should be called ' The League and Covenant* in imita- 
 tion of the leagues and covenants made in the times of civil wars in 
 England. The covenanters were required to obligate themselves, 
 in the presence of God, and promise in the most solemn and religious 
 manner, to cease all commerce with England, dating from the last 
 of the ensuing month of August, until the late detestable acts should 
 be repealed, and the colony reinstated in all its rights, franchises, li- 
 berty and privileges; not to purchase or use, after this term, any British 
 goods, wares or merchandise whatsoever ; and to abstain from all 
 commerce or traffic whatever with those who should use or introduce 
 them, or refuse to enter into the solemn league. Finally, a menace 
 was added, which, in a period of such universal excitement, was 
 sufficient to intimidate, that the names of those should be published 
 who should refuse to give this authentic proof of their attachment to 
 the rights and liberty of their country. If the resolution was bold, 
 its execution was not tardy. The articles of the league were trans- 
 mitted, by circulars, to the other provinces, with invitation to the 
 inhabitants to annex their names. Either voluntarily or out of fear, 
 an infinite number subscribed in all the provinces, and particularly 
 in those of New England. The citizens of Philadelphia alone dis- 
 covered a repugnance to the measure ; not that they felt less abhor- 
 rence for the proceedings of England, or were less attached to their 
 privileges ; but a total suspension of commerce with Great Britain, 
 appeared to them a thing of so great importance, and so prejudicial 
 to many industrious inhabitants of their city, that they could not but 
 hesitate as to its adoption. They desired, therefore, to leave it for 
 the determination of ihe general congress ; promising to execute 
 scrupulously, whatever might be the resolutions of that assembly. 
 
 General Gage, astonished and inflamed at the very name of league, 
 a name so full of dread for the ears of an officer of the crown of 
 England, issued a proclamation, declaring it to be an illegal and 
 criminal combination, and contrary to the allegiance due to the king. 
 But these were mere words. The people of Massachusetts pub- 
 lished, on their part, that the declaration of the governor was of it- 
 self tyrannical ; they contended, that no authority could prevent the 
 subjects from consulting together, and forming conventions for the 
 maintainance of their rights, in cases of oppression. 
 
 Thus the laws upon which the British ministers had rested their 
 hopes of dividing the counsels, appeasing the tumults, securing 
 obedience, and reestablishing tranquillity in America, were those 
 which originated more union, greater commotions, more open revolt, 
 and a more determined spirit of resistance. Nor should it be ima- 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 123 
 
 gined, that so much agitation was excited only by men of obscure 
 condition, or a few party leaders ; on the contrary, men of all ranks 
 engaged in the work ; and among the foremost, numbers remarkable 
 for their opulence, their authority or their talents. The landholders, 
 especially, were exasperated more than all others, and manifested 
 a more vehement desire to triumph over the ministers ; whom they 
 called wicked, and whom they detested so mortally. 
 
 Meanwhile, on the first of June, at mid-day, all business ceased 
 in the custom house of Boston, and the port was shut against every 
 vessel that offered to enter ; and, on the 14th, permission to depart 
 was refused to all that had entered before. This day was observed 
 as a day of calamity at Williamsburg, the capital of Virginia ; and 
 as a day of general mourning in all the other cities of the continent. 
 At Philadelphia, all business ceased, and all tradesmen, excepting 
 the Quakers, closed their shops ; the bells sounded the funeral knell. 
 But the Bostonians excited pity ; their city, lately so rich, so pros- 
 perous, so distinguished for the number and courteous character of 
 its inhabitants, now presented, in every part, only the images of deso- 
 lation and despair. The rich, in having lost the rents of their build- 
 ings, were becoming poor ; the poor, deprived of employment, had 
 fallen into indigence. Each sustained his share of the general cala- 
 mity. A malignant soldiery, parading through the city, seemed also 
 inclined to insult their miseries. 
 
 The inhabitants of the province of Massachusetts, and of all the 
 others, came, indeed, to their succour ; subscriptions went round, in 
 Philadelphia, to procure some relief for those Bostonians, who, by the 
 effect of the new law, were deprived of subsistence. But how inade- 
 quate were these succours, to satisfy the exigencies of such distress ! 
 Many of these unfortunate sufferers were reduced to the last extreme 
 of penury. If the miseries, however, they experienced, were ex- 
 treme, so also were the resignation and the fortitude with which they 
 supported them. It may well be supposed, they perused with sin- 
 gular attention the pages of ancient and modern story, which have 
 recorded the sufferings of the apostles of liberty, either to publish 
 them, as they did, in a style often of virulence, and more often of 
 emphasis, in the public journals, or to repeat them in popular assem- 
 blies, and paragon with such illustrious examples, the tribulations of 
 the Bostonians, whose constancy they magnified with boundless enco- 
 mium. They were styled the living martyrs of liberty, the gene- 
 rous defenders of the rights of man ; they were pronounced the 
 worthy descendants of their virtuous and heroic ancestors. 
 
 The government had persuaded itself, that, the port of Boston 
 being shut up, the inhabitants of the neighboring towns would en- 
 deavor to avail themselves of it by drawing to their own ports the 
 commerce hitherto transacted in that city. But things took a direc- 
 tion very wide of its expectations. The inhabitants of Marblehead. 
 
124 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 a small seaport, at a few miles distance from Boston, and even those 
 of Salem, offered the Bostonians their ports, wharves, and ware- 
 houses, free of all expense or remuneration. 
 
 During these occurrences, most of the civil magistrates had sus- 
 pended the exercise of their functions ; for those who had been 
 appointed under the new laws, had either declined acceptance, or 
 were prevented by the people from acting in their several offices. 
 The council only which assisted the governor, was permitted to 
 despatch some affairs, as, out of thirty-six new counsellors, who had 
 been appointed, only two had declined ; but the others, having been 
 denounced to the public as enemies to the country, and the multitude 
 collecting in fury about their houses, the greater part resigned. The 
 courts of justice were suspended, because their members refused to 
 take the oath prescribed by the laws, or to conform, in any shape, to 
 its provisions. The attornies who had issued writs of citation, were 
 compelled to ask pardon in the public journals, and promise not to 
 expedite others, until the laws should he revoked, and the charters 
 reestablished. The people rushed in a throng to occupy the seat 
 of justice, that no room might be left for the judges ; when invited 
 to withdraw, they answered, that they recognised no other tribunals, 
 and no. other magistrates, but such as were established according to 
 ancient laws and usages. 
 
 The greater part of the inhabitants, persuaded that things must^ 
 finally, terminate in open war, diligently provided themselves with 
 arms, and exercised daily, in handling them. They succeeded in 
 this with extreme facility, being naturally active, accustomed to fa- 
 tigue, and experienced huntsmen. They excelled particularly in the 
 use of the rifle, which they levelled with unerring aim. In all places, 
 nothing was heard but the din of arms, or the sound of fifes and of 
 drums; nothing was seen but multitudes intent upon learning the milita- 
 ry exercise and evolutions ; young and old, fathers and sons, and even 
 the gentle sex, all bent their steps towards these martial scenes; 
 some to acquire instruction, others to animate and encourage. The 
 casting of balls, and making of cartridges, were become ordinary 
 occupations. All things offered the image of an approaching war. 
 
 The arrival of general Gage, at Boston, had been followed by that 
 of two regiments of infantry, with several pieces of cannon. These 
 troops had been quartered in the city ; they were reenforced by 
 several regiments, coming from Ireland, from New York, from 
 Halifax, and from Quebec ; all directed upon this point, to smother 
 the kindling conflagration. The inhabitants beheld this with incredi- 
 ble jealousy, which was still increased by an order of the general, 
 to place a guard upon the isthmus, which connects the peninsula, 
 where Boston is situated, with the main land. The pretext assigned 
 was, to prevent the desertion of the soldiers, but the real motive of 
 this step was to intimidate the inhabitants, that they might not, s 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 125 
 
 freely as they had done heretofore, transport arms from the city into 
 the country. Every day gave birth to new causes of contention 
 between the soldiers and the citizens. Popular rumors were circu- 
 lated rapidly, and heard with avidity ; at every moment the people 
 collected as if ripe for revolt. 
 
 The governor, attentive to this agitation, and fearing some unhappy 
 accident, resolved to fortify the isthmus, and proceeded in the works 
 with great activity. The inhabitants of Boston, as well as those of 
 the country, were extremely exasperated by it ; they exclaimed, 
 that this was an act of hostility on the part of the general, and a 
 manifest proof that it was resolved to make every thing bend to 
 military authority. Many conjectures were in circulation among the 
 people, and violent menaces were thrown out. General Gage, 
 apprehensive of an explosion, detached two companies of soldiers to 
 seize the powder that was deposited in the magazine at Charlestown, 
 near Boston. He considered this the more prudent, as the time 
 was now approaching for the annual review of the militia ; when, if 
 any hostile designs were in agitation, they might probably be put in 
 execution. 
 
 The rage of the people had now reached its acme. They assem- 
 bled from all quarters, and hastened, with arms, to Cambridge. 
 The more prudent had great difficulty to prevent them from march- 
 ing furiously to Boston to demand the restitution of the powder, or 
 in case of refusal, to fall immediately upon the garrison. 
 
 But soon after, and probably by a secret device of the patriot 
 chiefs, to let the British soldiers perceive, that, if they should ven- 
 ture to offer the shadow of violence, a signal to the inhabitants of the 
 province would suffice to make them repent of it, a report was cir- 
 culated among this exasperated multitude, that the fleet and garrison 
 had commenced hostilities, that their artillery was firing upon the 
 town, and that the Bostonians were hard pressed to defend them- 
 selves. The rumor was spread with incredible rapidity through the 
 whole province ; in a few hours, above thirty thousand men were 
 under arms ; they proceeded towards Boston with the utmost speed, 
 and made no halt till they had full certainty that the alarm was 
 premature. 
 
 This movement gave origin to many others ; -and it became an 
 almost daily custom to attack the houses of such as either had 
 accepted the new offices, or in any way had shown themselves favor- 
 able to English pretensions, or opposed to American privileges. No 
 longer, therefore, able to find safety except within the city itself, the 
 commissioners of the customs, and those under their authority, as 
 well as all other public officers, who had removed to Salem for the 
 exercise of their functions, went back to Boston. Thus, in the 
 space of a few months, the regulations were annihilated, which the 
 ministers had designed to introduce by means of the port bill. 
 
126 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK III. 
 
 The province of Massachusetts was not the only theatre of popular 
 commotions ; all had a part in this general convulsion. The inha- 
 bitants, at many points, fearing the governor might get the start of 
 them in respect to seizing the powder, as he had done at Charles- 
 town, flew to possess themselves of what lay in the forts and powder 
 magazines of the king. Thus it happened at Portsmouth, in New 
 Hampshire, where the provincials stormed the fort, and carried off 
 the powder and artillery. The inhabitants of Rhode Island did the 
 same ; the people of Newport rose, and took possession of forty 
 pieces of cannon, which defended the harbor. 
 
 The removal of the powder at Charlestown, and the fortifications 
 carrying on at Boston, together with the popular agitations, occa- 
 sioned a meeting of delegates from the different towns and boroughs 
 of the county of Suffolk, of which Boston is the capital. They 
 took very spirited resolutions ; purporting, that no obedience was 
 due to the late acts of parliament, but, on the contrary, hatred and 
 execration, since they were attempts to enslave America ; that the 
 appointment of public officers by virtue of these acts, was contrary 
 to constitutional statutes and principles ; that the country would 
 indemnify the subordinate officers, who should refuse to execute the 
 orders of their superiors, appointed under the new laws ; that the 
 collectors of the public money should retain it in their hands, and 
 make no payment, until the ancient laws of the colony should be 
 reestablished, or until it should be ordered otherwise by the 
 provincial congress ; that those who had accepted the new offices 
 must resign them before the 20th of September ; and if not, they 
 should be declared enemies to the country ; that officers of the 
 militia should be chosen in every town, selecting for this purpose, 
 individuals skilful in arms, and inflexibly attached to the rights of the 
 people ; that, as it had been reported it was in contemplation to 
 apprehend certain persons of the county, if this menace should be 
 executed, the royal officers should be immediately seized, and 
 detained as hostages ; that the people should be exhorted to main- 
 tain tranquillity, and merit, by their moderation, by their steady, 
 uniform and persevering resistance, in a contest so important, in a 
 cause so solemn, the approbation of the wise, and the admiration of 
 the brave, of every country, and of every age. 
 
 Another assembly, but of the entire province of Massachusetts, 
 was held at Salem. The governor not choosing to sanction it by 
 his presence, they formed themselves into a provincial congress, and 
 elected Hancock president. After having addressed their complaints 
 to the governor, of the fortifications of the isthmus, they took extra- 
 ordinary measures for the defence of the province. They prepared 
 munitions of war, they filled magazines with provisions, they enrolled 
 twelve thousand of the militia, whom they called minute men ; that 
 is, soldiers that must hold themselves in readiness to march at a 
 
BOOK III. THE AMERICAN WAR. 127 
 
 minute's notice. The decrees and recommendations of the provin- 
 cial congress were executed with the same exactness as if they had 
 emanated from a legitimate authority. 
 
 Thus, the plans of the British ministers produced, in America, 
 effects contrary to their intentions. Already, every appearance 
 announced the approach of civil war. 
 
 In the midst of this agitation, and of apprehensions inspired by 
 the future, the general congress assembled at Philadelphia ; it was 
 composed of delegates from all the American colonies. 
 
 END OF BOOK THIRD. 
 
128 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV, 
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 1774. THE deputies of the different colonies arrived in Phila- 
 delphia on the 4th of September, except those of North Carolina, 
 who delayed their appearance until the 14th of the same month. All 
 were men of note, arid distinguished by the public favor. Far from 
 being persons destitute of the goods of fortune, they were all landed 
 proprietors, and some possessed even great opulence. Several had 
 been instructed by their constituents, to exert their utmost endeavors 
 to secure the liberty of America, by the most suitable means, and to 
 restore the ancient course of things with England ; others, to vote 
 for resolutions relative to the exercise of commerce, calculated to 
 induce the English government to embrace milder counsels towards 
 the colonies ; others, finally, were invested with unlimited authority 
 to do whatsoever, in the present circumstances, they should judge 
 most conducive to the public good. 
 
 Having met on the 5th, they resolved that their deliberations should 
 be kept secret, until the majority should direct them to be published ; 
 and that, in determining questions, each colony should have but one 
 vote, whatever might be the number of its deputies. They elected 
 for president, Peyton Randolph, of Virginia ; and for secretary, 
 Charles Thomson. They were in number fifty-five.* 
 
 For a long time, no spectacle had been offered to the attention of 
 mankind, of so powerful an interest as this of the present American 
 congress. It was indeed a novel thing, and as it were miraculous, 
 that a nation, hitherto almost unknown to the people of Europe, or 
 only known by the commerce it occasionally exercised in their ports, 
 should, all at once, step forth from this state of oblivion, and, rousing 
 as from a long slumber, should seize the reigns to govern itself; 
 that the various parts of this nation, hitherto disjoined, and almost in 
 opposition to each other, should now be united in one body, and 
 moved by a single will ; that their long and habitual obedience should 
 be suddenly changed for the intrepid counsels of resistance, and of 
 open defiance, to the formidable nation whence they derived their 
 origin and laws. 
 
 There had been observed, at intervals, it is true, in the vast domi- 
 nions of Spain in America, some popular agitations ; but they were 
 easily repressed by the government. In the colonies of Portugal, the 
 public repose had never been interrupted. France, in like manner, 
 had always found her American subjects inclined to a willing submis- 
 sion. It was reserved for the English colonies, to afford the first 
 example of resistance, asd of a struggle to separate themselves from 
 
 * See Note I. 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 120 
 
 the parent state. Such, however, was the necessary consequence of 
 the constitution of England, and of her colonies ; of the opinions 
 which prevailed in the latter; of the memory of ancient revolutions; 
 and of the discontents which, from time to time, had manifested thera^" 
 selves in America, but which now, for the first time, menaced an 
 inevitable, and not distant explosion ; for the congress of Albany had 
 presented nothing illegal in its character, since it had been convoked 
 by the legitimate authorities. It had manifested no tendency towards 
 a new order of things ; though perhaps the secret counsels of those 
 who composed it eventually aspired at independence ; but, in effect, 
 nothing was regulated by that assembly, except the interests of the 
 English colonies with regard to the Indian nations of the vicinity. 
 When the congress of New York was convened, the excitement of 
 men's minds was not yet so extreme, the popular disorders had not 
 taken so alarming a character, nor had the government then displayed 
 so much rigor, nor prostrated so many colonial statutes. On the 
 other hand, the members of this congress, though possessed of much* 
 had not so entire an influence with the American people as those of 
 the congress of Philadelphia ; nor did they excite such public expect- 
 ation of future events as the latter assembly. The colonists looked 
 upon it as a convention of men who, in some mode or other, were to 
 deliver their country from the perils that menaced it. The greater 
 part believed that their ability, their prudence and their immense 
 influence with the people, would enable them to obtain from the go- 
 vernment the removal of the evils that oppressed them, and the re- 
 establishment of the ancient order of things. Some others cherished 
 the belief, that they would find means to conduct the American na- 
 tion to that independence which was the first and most ardent of their 
 aspirations, or rather the sole object of that intense passion which 
 stung and tormented them, night and day. The confidence they had 
 placed in the congress, was equal to the aversion they had conceived 
 to the new laws. The generality of people, usually ignorant what 
 obstacles must be encountered in great enterprises, deem their griev- 
 ances already removed, when they have confided to a few the inte- 
 rests of all ; the colonists, accordingly, attributing to their new dele- 
 gates greater power than they in reality possessed, were generally 
 elated with the most flattering hopes. They knew that a union of 
 minds is the most efficacious instrument of success ; and their con- 
 cord was prodigious ; all were ready to sacrifice their lives and their 
 fortunes to the triumph of their cause. Not that there existed none 
 of another inind, who would gladly have held a quite different course; 
 but they were few, in this first impulse, and they were reduced to 
 silence by the consent and enthusiasm of all the others. No other 
 government, however consolidated by the lapse of ages or the force 
 of arms, ever experienced so much promptness and punctuality of 
 obedience as the American congress. The colonists were disposed 
 VOL. j. 17 
 
130 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV- 
 
 to receive its deliberations, not only as the useful and salutary laws 
 of a good government, but as the revered precepts and oracles of men 
 consecrated and generously devoted to the salvation of their country. 
 
 Such was the posture of affairs in America at the epoch of the 
 convocation of congress. But in Europe, the novelty of circum- 
 stances had excited strong emotions in the minds of all ; in some, 
 creating fear, in others hope, in all, astonishment. In England, 
 the ministerial party declaimed with vehemence against the audacity 
 of the Americans, who were called rebels ; and the most rigorous 
 counsels were already proposed. They could not comprehend how 
 a people like that of America, divided, as they had always been, by 
 a sectarian spirit, into various schisms and parties, should now be 
 capable of a concord so entire, as to present but one only sentiment, 
 and but one same will ; how, laying aside the mutual rancor result- 
 ing from the diversity of their opinions and interests, they should all, 
 at the present moment, have concurred in a resolution to defend and 
 maintain what they considered their rights, against England. 
 
 ' Is it conceivable, that a nation which subsists by its commerce, 
 that has no naval armament, and. whose principal cities are exposed 
 to the vengeance of a maritime enemy, that is unprovided with regu- 
 lar and veteran troops, should have the hardihood to dispute the will 
 of the British nation, powerful in arms, radiant with the glory of its 
 recent achievements, inexhaustible in public and private resources, 
 strong in a government cemented by the hand of time, formidable for 
 the prodigious number of its ships, and abounding in experienced 
 commanders, both of la,nd and sea ?' 
 
 But it was answered on the other side ; 
 
 'Wherefore this astonishment at the resolution of the Americans? 
 Even though it were true, that, as to the means of sustaining war, 
 they were thus inferior to Great Britain, who is ignorant that men 
 inflamed by the zeal of political opinions do not descend to nice cal- 
 culations, or spend time in weighing the probabilities of the future ? 
 And has not England herself many difficulties to surmount? Is she 
 not divided, even upon this question of America, by the spirit of 
 party ? Opinions are so much at variance on this subject, that a great 
 number, it is clear, would march against the colonists with extreme 
 repugnance. A vast ocean separates from us the countries in which 
 the war must be carried on ; this circumstance alone will, of necessi- 
 ty, cause an incalculable expense, an enormous waste of military 
 stores, an affrightful sacrifice of men, the most fatal delays, and a 
 frequent defect of correspondence between measures and exigencies. 
 The finances of England are exhausted by the exorbitant debt con- 
 tracted in times past, and especially during the late war ; the revenue 
 falls far short of meeting the ordinary expenditure ; and so ponder- 
 ous an increase of burthen as the disbursements of this new war 
 must involve, would absolutely crush the resources of the state. Be- 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 131 
 
 sides, what country is better adapted than America for a long defence ? 
 It is covered with trackless forests, fortified by lakes, rivers, and 
 mountains; it has few passable roads ; and abounds in strong defiles, 
 and fords, which are only known to the inhabitants.' 
 
 Nor should it be omitted, that the recollection of past events must 
 have acted with great force upon the minds of those who directed the 
 counsels of England. They were abandoned to doubt and uncer- 
 tainty ; for this was the same cause which in the preceding century 
 had been contested in England, and which, after so many efforts, and 
 so much blood, had produced a total revolution, and placed the Bri- 
 tish sceptre in the hands of a new line of princes. But even this 
 reflection was calculated to excite, in the members of the govern- 
 ment, a certain indignation, but too proper to pervert their reason, 
 and alienate them from the counsels of moderation and prudence. 
 Assuredly, since the epoch of this revolution, the British cabinet 
 never had a more difficult enterprise to conduct ; it had never wit- 
 nessed a crisis of such fatal augury, or that menaced, with a wound 
 so deadly, the very heart of the state. Nor was it possible to dissem- 
 ble, that the Americans would not be destitute of foreign succours ; 
 for, although the European powers, who possessed colonies in Ame- 
 rica, could not, but with certain solicitude, contemplate these commo- 
 tions in the British provinces, viewing them as a dangerous example 
 for their own subjects, who, if success should attend the designs of 
 the Americans, might, they apprehended, indulge pernicious thoughts, 
 and contrary to their allegiance ; yet they wore greatly reassured, by 
 reflecting that their colonists were far from cherishing the same poli- 
 tical opinions that prevailed among the inhabitants of the English 
 colonies. And, on the other hand, their vehement desire to see the 
 power of England reduced, prevented them from perceiving the 
 danger, or caused them to despise it ; for this danger was remote and 
 uncertain; whereas the advantage of the humiliation of England, 
 which was expected to result from the American war, was near at 
 hand, and, if not certain, at least extremely probable. 
 
 But, among the various nations of Europe, all more or less favor- 
 able to the cause of the Americans, and equally detesting the tyranny 
 of England, none signalised themselves more than the French. The 
 desire of vengeance, the hope of retrieving its losses, the remem- 
 brance of ancient splendor, the anguish of recent wounds, all stimu- 
 lated the French government to side with the Americans. It waited 
 only for the maturity of events, and a propitious occasion, to declare 
 itself. These dispositions of the ministry were not unknown to the 
 nation ; and, as no people are more susceptible of impressions from 
 those in power than the French, the cause of the Americans found 
 among them the most ardent and the most 'ingenious advocates. 
 Many other causes, no less evident, concurred to the same effect. 
 The people of France, though accustomed to live under a very 
 
132 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 absolute system of government, have uniformly testified a particular 
 esteem for such men, and for such nations, as have valiantly defended 
 their liberty against the usurpations of tyranny ; for, when they are 
 not led astray, and as it were transported out of themselves, by their 
 exorbitant imagination, their character is naturally benevolent and 
 gentle ; they are always disposed to succour the oppressed, especially 
 when they support their ill fortune with constancy, and contend, with 
 courage, to surmount it ; in a word, when their enterprise presents 
 an aspect of glory and of greatness. Such was, or appeared to be, 
 the cause of the Americans ; and such were the general sentiments 
 of the French towards them. 
 
 It should also be added, that, at this epoch, the writers who had 
 treated political subjects, in all countries, and especially in France, 
 had manifested themselves the advocates of a more liberal mode of 
 government ; and thus the opinions which prevailed, at that time, 
 were extremely propitious to civil liberty. These writings were in 
 more eager request, and these opinions were still more rapidly dis- 
 seminated, at the news of the commotions which agitated America; 
 than which nothing could more evidently prove what was the spirit of 
 that epoch. In all social circles, as well as in numerous publications 
 which daily appeared in France, the Americans were the object of 
 boundless praises ; their cause was defended by the most specious 
 arguments, and justified by a multitude of illustrious examples. And 
 if, at the epoch when France, after the cession made by the republic 
 of Genoa, had undertaken the conquest of Corsica, many were 
 found, among the French, who professed themselves the apologists 
 of those islanders, and ventured openly to condemn the determination 
 of their own government to subdue them, it may well be thought, the 
 partisans of the Americans were far more numerous, and demon- 
 strated an enthusiasm still more ardent. It would be difficult to 
 express what joy and what hopes were excited by the intelligence of 
 the convocation of the American congress. The names of the 
 deputies were extolled to the skies ; ' Let them hasten,' it was said, 
 every where, ' to shake off the yoke of English despotism, to sever 
 these bonds of servitude ; let them establish civil liberty in their 
 country ; and let them serve as a perpetual example, that princes 
 cannot, without peril, violate the fundamental laws of their states, nor 
 attack with impunity the privileges and immunities of their subjects.' 
 Thus the French excited continually by new motives and plausible 
 arguments, the already exasperated minds of the Americans ; and 
 irritated those wounds which had already the appearance of cancer- 
 ation, in order to render them absolutely incurable. 
 
 Thus the congress saw united in its favor, not only the opinions of 
 the American people, but also those of all the European nations, and 
 even of their governments ; as likewise of no small part of the inha- 
 bitants of Great Britain itself. So great was, at this epoch, either 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 133 
 
 the spirit of innovation, or the love of liberty, or the desire to shake 
 off the restraints of all authority whatsoever ! Meanwhile, all minds 
 were suspended with expectation, for the issue of so important a 
 contest; and all eyes were attentive to see what measures the 
 American convention would first adopt to sustain it. 
 
 It was natural, that the first thoughts of congress should have 
 turned towards the province of Massachusetts, and the city of Boston. 
 The resolutions of the assembly of Suffolk, having been the most 
 vigorous, and the most important, it was determined to confirm them. 
 They accordingly resolved, that they deeply felt the suffering of their 
 countrymen, of the province of Massachusetts, under the operation 
 of the late unjust and cruel acts of the British parliament; that they 
 much approved the wisdom and fortitude which the people of Massa- 
 chusetts had displayed, in opposing such wicked measures ; they 
 exhorted them to perseverance, and recommended the complete 
 execution of the resolutions taken by the assembly of Suffolk ; they 
 expressed their confident hopes that the united efforts of North 
 America, would so persuade the British nation of the imprudence, 
 injustice, and danger of the policy of the present ministers, as quickly 
 to introduce better men, and wiser measures; and, finally, they 
 recommended, that the contributions which had been commenced, 
 in all the colonies, should continue to be collected, for the relief and 
 support of the Bostonians. And as those who are inclined to war, 
 generally affect the most earnest desire of peace, congress addressed 
 a letter to general Gage, praying him to put a stop to the hostile 
 preparations, which might provoke a pacific people to have recourse 
 to arms, and thus prevent the endeavors of the congress, to restore 
 a good understanding with the parent state, and involve the nation in 
 all the horrors of a civil war. He was especially requested to dis- 
 continue the fortifications of Boston, to repress military license, and 
 to restore a free communication between the city and country. 
 
 Although the congress was not, constitutionally, a legitimate assem- 
 bly, general Gage, desirous of testifying his disposition to preserve 
 peace, answered, that no troops had ever given less cause for com- 
 plaint, than those that were then stationed in Boston, notwithstanding 
 the insults and provocations daily given to both officers and soldiers ; 
 that the communication between the city and country had been always 
 free, and should remain so. unless the inhabitants should constrain 
 him to take other measures. The congress also decreed that if it 
 should be attempted to carry into execution, by force, the late acts 
 of parliament, in such case, all America ought to support the inhabi- 
 tants of Massachusetts in their opposition ; that in case it should be 
 judged necessary to remove the citizens of Boston into the country, 
 the injury they might thereby sustain, should be repaired at the pub- 
 lic expense ; and that every person whomsoever, who should .accept 
 of any commission, or authority, emanating from the new laws, should 
 be held in universal detestation and abhorrence. 
 
134 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 The congress also deemed it useful and necessary to resort to the 
 accustomed confederacies against English commerce ; the merchants 
 of the colonies were therefore requested to suspend all importation of 
 merchandise from Great Britain, until the congress should have pub- 
 lished its intentions, touching the course to be pursued for the preser- 
 vation of the liberties of America. The agreement was promptly 
 and universally contracted, according to its desires ; and it was further 
 stipulated, that all exportation of merchandise to Great Britain, Ire- 
 land and the West Indies, should cease after the 10th of September, 
 1775, unless the wrongs of which the Americans complained, were 
 redressed prior to that period. The league was observed, this time, 
 with an astonishing consent. 
 
 There still remained an affair of the last importance ; that of 
 determining what were the pretensions of America, and the terms 
 upon which she would consent to resume her ancient relations of 
 amity with Great Britain. To this effect the congress published an 
 elaborate declaration, entitled, a Declaration of Rights. This paper 
 commenced with very bitter complaints, that the parliament had, of 
 late years, undertaken to tax the colonies ; to establish an extraordi- 
 nary board of customs ; to extend the jurisdiction of the courts of 
 admiralty; to grant salaries to the judges, without the concurrence 
 of the colonial assemblies ; to maintain a standing army in times of 
 peace; to ordain that persons charged with offences, affecting the 
 state, should be transported to England for trial ; to annul the regu- 
 lations of the government of Massachusetts, respecting the prosecu- 
 tion of those who should be questioned for acts committed in the 
 execution of the laws, and in opposition to tumults ; and, finally, to 
 abolish the English laws in Canada, and to grant in that province 
 extraordinary favor to the Catholic religion. Which acts of the 
 parliament were pronounced impolitic, unjust, cruel, contrary to the 
 constitution, most dangerous and destructive of American rights. 
 They continued with saying, that whereas the legal assemblies of 
 America, which had peaceably convened to deliberate on grievances, 
 and remonstrate against unjust arid oppressive laws, had been fre- 
 quently dissolved, and their petitions and supplications treated with 
 contempt by the ministers of the king ; the Americans had, therefore, 
 determined to convoke this congress, in order to vindicate and secure 
 their rights and liberties. 
 
 Then followed the enumeration of these rights, such as life, liberty 
 and property; which, they affirmed, no power could dispose of with- 
 out their consent. To these were added the rights peculiar to English 
 subjects, as for example, to participate in the legislative council ; and 
 as the inhabitants of the colonies were not, and from local and other 
 circumstances, could not be represented in the British parliament, 
 they were entitled, it was asserted, to enjoy this right of legislation 
 in their respective assemblies, consenting cheerfully, however, to the 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 135 
 
 operation of such acts of parliament as were, bona fide, restrained 
 to the regulation of commerce, excluding every idea of taxation, 
 internal or external. They claimed, in like manner, the right of 
 being tried by their peers of the vicinage, and that of peaceably 
 assembling and addressing their petitions to the king. It was also 
 declared, that the keeping a standing army in the colonies, in times 
 of peace, without the consent of the respective colonial assemblies, 
 was altogether contrary to law. The congress here recapitulated 
 the acts of parliament which had violated the foregoing rights, 
 affirming that the Americans could not submit to such grievous acts 
 and measures, nor in any mode return to the former state of things, 
 without their revocation. 
 
 It was hoped, that their fellowcitizens of Great Britain, would, on 
 a revision of these laws, see the necessity of repealing them, and 
 thus restore the Americans to that state of happiness and prosperity, 
 which they had enjoyed in times past ; that, in the meantime, and 
 for the present, they were resolved to enter into a nonimportation, 
 nonconsumption, and nonexportation agreement, in respect to all arti- 
 cles of commerce with Great Britain. They determined also, to 
 prepare an address to the people of Great Britain, and a memorial 
 to the inhabitants of British America, as also another to the king, in 
 conformity to resolutions already taken. 
 
 By the first, their design was to conciliate the English people, and 
 to appease the resentment which they apprehended would be excited 
 by the effect of the American combinations against their commerce. 
 This they executed with singular address ; on the one hand, flattering 
 the self love of the British, and on the other, averring that it was 
 with repugnance, and compelled, as it were, by invincible necessity, 
 they were induced to embrace these prejudicial associations. They 
 were ready, they added, to dissolve them the moment the government 
 should have restored them to their original condition. 
 
 We transcribe a part of this address of the American congress to 
 the English people, as it is peculiarly proper to demonstrate what 
 were the prevailing opinions at this epoch ; with what ardor and 
 inflexible resolution the Americans supported their cause ; and the 
 great progress they had made in the art of writing with that eloquence 
 which acts so irresistibly upon the minds of men. The three mem- 
 bers of congress who composed it, were, Lee, Livingston, and Jay ; 
 the last, it is generally believed, was the author. It was conceived 
 in the following terms ; 
 
 ' When a nation, led to greatness by the hand of liberty, and 
 possessed of all the glory that heroism, munificence and humanity 
 can bestow, descends to the ungrateful task of forging chains for her 
 friends and children, and instead of giving support to freedom, turris 
 advocate for slavery and oppression, there is reason to suspect she 
 has either ceased to be virtuous, or been extremely negligent in the 
 appointment of her rulers. 
 
130 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 ' In almost every age, in repeated conflicts, in long and bloody 
 wars, as well civil as foreign, against many and powerful nations, 
 against the open assaults of enemies, and the more dangerous trea- 
 chery of friends, have the inhabitants of your island, your great and 
 glorious ancestors, maintained their independence, and transmitted 
 the rights of men, and the blessings of liberty, to you their posterity. 
 Be not surprised, therefore, that we, who are descended from the 
 same common ancestors ; that we, whose forefathers participated in 
 all the rights, the liberties, and the constitution, you so justly boast of, 
 and who have carefully conveyed the same fair inheritance to us, 
 guarantied by the plighted faith of government, and the most solemn 
 compacts with British sovereigns, should refuse to surrender them to 
 men, who found their claims on no principles of reason, and who 
 prosecute them with a design, that by having our lives and property 
 in their power, they may. with the greater facility, enslave you. The 
 cause of America is now the object of universal attention ; it has, at 
 length, become very serious. This unhappy country has not only 
 been oppressed, but abused and misrepresented 5 and the duty we 
 owe to ourselves and posterity, to your interest, and the general 
 welfare of the British empire, lead us to address you on this very 
 important subject. 
 
 ' Know, then, that we consider ourselves, and do insist that we are, 
 and ought to be, as free as our fellow subjects in Britain, and that no 
 power on earth has a right to take our property from us without our 
 consent. That we claim all the benefits secured to the subject by 
 the English constitution, and particularly, that inestimable one of trial 
 by jury. That we hold it essential to English liberty, that no man 
 be condemned unheard, or punished for supposed offences, without 
 having an opportunity of making his Defence. That we think thai 
 legislature of Great Britain is not authorised by the constitution, to 
 establish a religion, fraught with sanguinary and impious tenets, or to 
 erect an arbitrary form of government, in any quarter of the globe. 
 
 ' These rights, we, as well as you, deem sacred. And yet, sacred 
 as they are, they have, wi^h many others, been repeatedly and fla- 
 grantly violated. Are ndt the proprietors of the soil of Great Britain 
 lords of their own property ? can it be taken from them without their 
 consent ? will they yield it to the arbitrary disposal of any man or 
 number of men whatever ? You know they will not. Why then 
 are the proprietors of the soil of America less lords of their property 
 than you are of yours ; or why should they submit it to the disposal 
 of your parliament, or any other parliament, or council in the world, 
 not of their election? Can the intervention of the sea that divides 
 us cause disparity in rights ? or can any reason be given why English 
 subjects, who live three thousand miles from the royal palace, should 
 enjoy less liberty than those who are three hundred miles distant 
 from it? Reason looks with indignation on such distinctions, and 
 
JBOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 137 
 
 freemen can never perceive their propriety. And yet, however 
 chimerical and unjust such discriminations are, the parliament assert, 
 that they have a right to bind us in all cases without exception, 
 whether we consent or not ; that they may take and use our property, 
 when, and in what manner they please ; that we are pensioners on 
 their bounty for all that we possess, and can hold it no longer than 
 they vouchsafe to permit. Such declarations we consider as heresies 
 in English politics, and which can no more operate to deprive us of 
 our property, than the interdicts of the pope can divest kings of 
 sceptres, which the laws of the land and the voice of the people have 
 placed in their hands. 
 
 'At the conclusion of the late war a war rendered glorious by 
 the ability and integrity of a minister, to whose efforts the British 
 empire owes its safety and its fame ; at the conclusion of this war, 
 which was succeeded by an inglorious peace, formed under the 
 auspices of a minister, of principles and of a family unfriendly to 
 the protestant cause, and inimical to liberty. We say, at this period, 
 and under the influence of that man, a plan for enslaving your fellow 
 subjects in America was concerted, and has ever since been pertina- 
 ciously carrying into execution. 
 
 ' Prior to this era, you were content with drawing from us the 
 wealth produced by our commerce. You restrained our trade in 
 every way that could conduce to your emolument. You exercised 
 unbounded sovereignty over the sea. You named the ports and 
 nations to which, alone, our merchandise should be carried, and with 
 whom, alone, we should trade ; and though some of these restrictions 
 were grievous, we, nevertheless, did not complain ; we looked up to 
 you as to our parent state, to which we were bound by the strongest 
 ties; and were happy in being instrumental to your prosperity and 
 your grandeur. We call upon you yourselves to witness our loyalty 
 and attachment to the common interest of the whole empire ; did we 
 not, in the last war, add all the strength of this vast continent to the 
 force which repelled our common enemy ? Did we not leave our 
 native shores, and meet disease and death, -to promote the success of 
 British arms in foreign climates ? Did you not thank us for our zeal, 
 and even reimburse us large sums of money, which, you confessed, 
 we had advanced beyond our proportion, and far beyond our abilities? 
 You did. To what causes, then, are we to attribute the sudden 
 change of treatment, and that system of slavery which was prepared 
 for us at the restoration of peace ?' 
 
 After having gone through a recital of the present disturbances, 
 and specified all the laws of which they complained, they continued 
 thus ; 
 
 ' This being a true state of facts, let us beseech you to consider to 
 what end they lead. Admit that the ministry, by the powers of Britain, 
 and the aid of our Roman Catholic neighbors, should be able to carry 
 VOL. i. 18 
 
138 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 the point of taxation, and reduce us to a state of perfect humiliation 
 and slavery ; such an enterprise would doubtless make some addition 
 to your national debt, which already presses down your liberties, and 
 fills you with pensioners and placemen. We presume, also, that your 
 commerce will somewhat be diminished. However, suppose you 
 should prove victorious, in what condition will you then be ? what 
 advantages, or what laurels, will you reap from such a conquest ? 
 May not a ministry, with the same armies enslave you ? It may be 
 said, you will cease to pay them ; but, remember, the taxes from 
 America, the wealth, and we may add the men, and particularly the 
 Roman Catholics, of this vast continent, will then be in the power of 
 your enemies ; nor will you have any reason to expect, after making 
 slaves of us, many among us should refuse to assist in reducing you 
 to the same abject state. 
 
 ' We believe there is yet much virtue, much justice, and much pub- 
 lic spirit, in the English nation. To that justice we now appeal. You 
 have been told, that we are seditious, impatient of government, and 
 desirous of independency ; but these are mere calumnies. Permit 
 us to be as free as yourselves, and we shall ever esteem a union with 
 you to be our greatest glory, and our greatest happiness. But if you 
 are determined that your ministers shall wantonly sport with the liber- 
 ties of mankind ; if neither the voice of justice, the dictates of the 
 law, the principles of the constitution, or the suggestions of humanity, 
 can restrain your hands from shedding human blood in such an impi- 
 ous cause, we must then tell you, that we shall never submit to be 
 hewers of wood or drawers of water for any minister or nation in the 
 world. 
 
 1 Place us in the same situation that we were at the close of the 
 war, and our former harmony will be restored. But lest the same 
 supineness, and the same inattention to our common interest, which 
 you have for several years shown, should continue, we think it pru- 
 dent to anticipate the consequences. By the destruction of the trade 
 of Boston, the ministry have endeavored to induce submission to their 
 measures. The like fate may befall us all. We will endeavor there- 
 fore, to live without trade, and recur for subsistence to the fertility 
 and bounty of our native soil, which will afford us all the necessaries, 
 and some of the conveniencies, of life. We have suspended our 
 importation from Great Britain and Ireland ; and, in less than a year's 
 time, unless our grievances should be redressed, shall discontinue our 
 exports to those kingdoms and the West Indies. It is with the ut- 
 most regret, however, that we find ourselves compelled, by the over- 
 ruling principles of self preservation, to adopt measures detrimental in 
 their consequences to numbers of our fellow subjects in Great Britain 
 and Ireland. But we hope that the magnanimity and justice of the 
 British nation will furnish a parliament of such wisdom, independence 
 and public spirit, as may save the violated rights of the whole empire 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 139 
 
 from the devices of wicked ministers and evil counsellors, whether in 
 or out of office ; and thereby restore that harmony, friendship and fra- 
 ternal affection, between all the inhabitants of his majesty's kingdoms 
 and territories, so ardently wished for by every true and honest Ame- 
 rican.' 
 
 The scope of their address to the inhabitants of America, was to 
 manifest the justice of their cause, by an exact enumeration of the 
 offensive laws ; to confirm them in resistance ; and to prepare their 
 minds for the worst. They observed, that the designs of the minis- 
 ters to enslave America, had been conducted with such constancy, as 
 to render it prudent to expect mournful events, and be prepared, in 
 all respects, for every contingency. 
 
 In the petition addressed to the king, they made protestations of 
 their attachment towards the crown and the royal family ; they affirm- 
 ed, that nothing short of the usurpations which wicked counsellors, 
 deceiving: the paternal heart of his majesty, had attempted, could 
 have induced them to depart from that submission of which they had 
 given, in happier times, such signal examples; that it was with ex- 
 treme reluctance, and urged by imperious necessity, they had enter- 
 ed into resolutions detrimental to the commerce of their European 
 fellow subjects ; and after having recapitulated all their grievances, 
 they proceeded ; 
 
 ' From this destructive system of colonial administration, adopted 
 since the conclusion of the last war, have flowed those distresses, 
 dangers, fears, and jealousies, that overwhelm your majesty's dutiful 
 colonists with affliction ; and we defy our most subtle and inveterate 
 enemies, to trace the unhappy differences between Great Britain and 
 these colonies, from an earlier period, or from other causes than we 
 have assigned. Had they proceeded, on our part, from a restless 
 levity of temper, unjust impulses of ambition, or artful suggestions of 
 seditious persons, we should merit the opprobrious terms frequently 
 bestowed upon us by those we revere. But, so far from promoting 
 innovations, we have only opposed them ; and can be charged with 
 no offence, unless it be one to receive injuries and be sensible of 
 them. 
 
 ' Had our Creator been pleased to give us existence in a land of 
 slavery, the sense of our condition might have teen mitigated by igno- 
 rance and habit. But, thanks be to his adorable goodness, we were 
 born the heirs of freedom, and ever enjoyed our rights under the 
 auspices of your royal ancestors, whose family was seated on the 
 British throne to rescue and secure a pious and gallant nation from 
 the popery and despotism of a superstitious and inexorable tyrant. 
 
 ' Your majesty, we are confident, justly rejoices that your title to 
 the crown is thus founded on the title of your people to liberty ; and 
 therefore we doubt not but your royal wisdom must approve the sen- 
 sibility that teaches your subjects anxiously to guard the blessing they 
 
HO THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 received from Divine Providence, and thereby to prove the perform- 
 ance of that compact which elevated the illustrious House of Brans- 
 wick to the imperial dignity it now possesses. The apprehension of 
 being degraded into a state of servitude, from the preeminent rank of 
 freemen, while our minds retain the strongest love of liberty, and clearly 
 foresee the miseries preparing for us and for our posterity, excites 
 emotions in our breasts, which, though we cannot describe, we should 
 not wish to conceal. Feeling as men, and thinking as subjects, in 
 the manner we do, silence would be disloyalty. By giving this faith- 
 ful information, we do all in our power to promote the great objects 
 of your royal cares, the tranquillity of your government, and the wel- 
 fare of your people ; and, as your majesty enjoys the signal distinc- 
 tion of reigning over freemen, we apprehend the language of freemen 
 cannot be displeasing. Your royal indignation, we hope, will rather 
 fall on those dangerous and designing men, who, daringly interposing 
 themselves between your royal person and your faithful subjects, and 
 for several years past incessantly employed to dissolve ihe bonds of 
 society, by abusing your majesty's authority, misrepresenting your 
 American subjects, and prosecuting the most desperate and irritating 
 projects of oppression, have at length compelled us, by the force of 
 accumulated injuries, too severe to be any longer tolerable, to disturb 
 your majesty's repose by our complaints.' 
 
 The congress having, by these different writings, endeavored to 
 mollify the breast of the sovereign, to conciliate the favor of the 
 English people, to dispose and prepare the colonists to brave all the 
 terrors of the crisis, and, generally, to propitiate the favor of the 
 European nations, turned their attention towards the inhabitants of 
 Canada, whose benevolence it was desirable to cultivate, in order to 
 secure, if not their adherence, at least their neutrality, in the grand 
 struggle that was approaching ; for, omitting the increase of force 
 which must have resulted to one or other of the belligerent parties, 
 from the alliance of the brave and warlike Canadians, it was of the 
 greatest importance to the colonists, to be secure of the friendly dis- 
 position of a country, which, from its position alone, appeared to 
 menace their provinces. This negotiation, however, required a very 
 delicate management ; for the Canadians were not accustomed to 
 English liberty; and had been long contented with their condition 
 under the government of France. The difference of religion was also 
 an obstacle of great moment. How was it possible to persuade them 
 to undertake the defence of rights they scarcely knew, or which they 
 esteemed of little value ? And how hopeless must have appeared the 
 attempt to induce them to complain of the act of Quebec, which 
 favored, protected, and placed in a condition even better than at first, 
 a religion they held so much at heart ! The congress, however, in 
 their address to the Canadian people, eluded these embarrassments 
 with singular dexterity. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 141 
 
 They commenced with a declaration that the Canadians were enti- 
 tled to possess all the rights enjoyed by English subjects ; they accus- 
 ed the ministers of a design to deprive them thereof, and to enslave 
 them totally. They endeavored to explain, in the most insinuating 
 style, what these rights were ; how extreme their importance, and 
 how conducive they were to the happiness of every human being. 
 They sufficed, it was affirmed, to defend the poor from the rich, the 
 feeble from the powerful, the industrious from the rapacious, the 
 peaceable from the violent, the tenants from the lords, and all from 
 their superiors. ' These are the rights without which a people can- 
 not be free and happy, and to whose protection and encouraging influ- 
 ence, the English colonies are indebted for their present prosperity, 
 and numerous population. Of these rights, the act of Quebec has 
 completely divested the Canadians ! It has not left the people even 
 a shadow of authority, but has placed it all in the hands of those who 
 are themselves absolutely dependent on the crown. Can any go- 
 vernment be imagined more arbitrary or tyrannical ? Whatever may 
 have been the rigors of the French domination, your present condi- 
 tion is infinitely worse ; for then they were Frenchmen, who ruled 
 other Frenchmen ; and that benignity which the mode of govern- 
 ment appeared to exclude, resulted, nevertheless, from the commu- 
 nity of language, manners, opinions, and the bonds of national fra- 
 ternity. But since they are Englishmen who now govern a French 
 people, the latter can no longer expect from the sympathy of their 
 rulers, but only from the protection of laws, a refuge from the abuses 
 of authority, and the rapacious passions of foreign ministers, always 
 disposed to suspect them of pernicious designs. Seize, then, the 
 occasion which is offered, by joining with us, to acquire that liberty 
 and those privileges which the colonists have always enjoyed ; and 
 which they are, with one mind, resolved never to resign, but with their 
 lives.' 
 
 As to religion, in order to quiet their minds upon this subject, it 
 was observed, that the tolerant opinions which prevailed, at the pre- 
 sent epoch, among the French people, would doubtless remove all 
 obstacles to a sincere amity between them. They cited the example 
 of the Swiss, who, notwithstanding the difference of their religion, 
 lived with one another in the utmost concord, and were thus enabled 
 to defy and defeat every tyrant that had invaded them. 
 
 ' Let the inhabitants of Canada, therefore, take advantage of cir- 
 cumstances. Let them form a provincial convention ; let them elect 
 their delegates to congress, and attach themselves to the common 
 cause of North America. Has not the present congress already re- 
 solved unanimously, that they considered the violation of the rights 
 of the Canadians, by the act for altering the government of their 
 province, as a violation of the rights of the colonists themselves ?' 
 
142 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IT. 
 
 Letters of a similar style, and tending to the same object, were 
 addressed to the colonies of St. John's, Nova Scotio, Georgia, and 
 the Floridas. 
 
 At the same time, the congress passed a resolution, declaring, that 
 the arrest of any person in America, in order to transport such per- 
 son beyond the sea, for trial of offences committed in America, being 
 against law, authorised resistance and reprisal. 
 
 Having concluded these transactions, and appointed the 10th of 
 the ensuing May for the convocation of another general congress, the 
 present dissolved .itself. 
 
 No one will deny, that this assembly knew how to appreciate the 
 circumstances of the time, and demonstrated a rare sagacity, in 
 leading them to cooperate in their designs. They not only found 
 means to invigorate the opinions which then prevailed in America, 
 but also to diffuse and propagate them surprisingly ; applauding the 
 ardent, stimulating the torpid, and conciliating the adverse. They 
 were lavish in protestations of loyalty to the king; which could not 
 fail to answer the end they proposed that of finding a pretext and 
 excuse for ulterior resolutions, in case their remonstrances should 
 prove ineffectual. With the same apt policy, they flattered the pride 
 of the British nation, with the view of engaging it to faVor their 
 cause. They manifested equal dexterity in fomenting the political 
 opinions that were beginning to prevail in this century. Originating 
 at first in England, they had been diffused, by degrees, among the 
 neighboring nations, and particularly in France, where they had been 
 introduced, and defended with a fascinating eloquence, by the most 
 celebrated writers of that period. Accordingly, in every place and 
 circle, the Americans, and especially the members of congress, were 
 considered as the generous champions of these favorite principles ; 
 for, as to the object they had in view, there no longer existed a doubt. 
 Though it was possible, however, to excuse, and even applaud this 
 resolution of the Americans, to defend, by force of arms, the rights 
 for which they contended, it was difficult, it must be acknowledged, 
 to reconcile with the loyalty they so frequently professed, their insi- 
 nuating writings to draw into their confederacy other subjects of the 
 crown of England, as the Canadians, for example, who had not, or 
 who made no pretensions to have, the same rights. But in affairs of 
 state, utility is often mistaken for justice ; and, in truth, no event 
 could have happened more useful to the colonists than the adhesion 
 of the Canadians to their cause. 
 
 1775. The resolutions of congress were received in America with 
 universal consent. They were approved not only by the people, but 
 also by the authorities, whether established or provisional. The 
 assembly of Pennsylvania, convened about the close of the year, 
 was the first constitutional authority which ratified formally all the 
 acts of congress, and elected deputies for the ensuing. A convention 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 143 
 
 having soon after been formed in this province, it was therein de- 
 clared, that, if the petition of congress was rejected, and the govern- 
 ment should persist in attempting to execute by force the late 
 arbitrary acts of parliament, it would then be requisite to resist also 
 with oj3en force, and defend, at all hazards, the rights and liberties 
 of America. Not content with words, this assembly recommended 
 that provision should be made of salt, gunpowder, saltpetre, iron, 
 steel, and other munitions of war. Charles Thomson and Thomas 
 Mifflin, afterwards general, both men of great influence in the pro- 
 vince, and much distinguished for their intellectual endowments, 
 were very active on this occasion ; and, by their exertions, the reso- 
 lutions of the convention were executed with singular promptitude 
 and vigor. 
 
 The inhabitants of Maryland displayed an equal ardor ; all within 
 their province was in movement. Meetings were convoked, in 
 every place ; associations were formed ; men were chosen, for the 
 purpose of seeing that the resolutions of congress were punctually 
 observed and executed. The provincial convention voted funds for 
 the purchase of arms and ammunition ; they declared enemies to the 
 country those who should refuse to provide themselves with a military 
 equipment. The most distinguished citizens made it their glory to 
 appear armed in the cause of liberty ; the militia was daily assembled 
 and exercised ; it was withdrawn from the authority of the governor, 
 and placed under that of the province ; they held themselves in 
 readiness to march to the assistance of Massachusetts. 
 
 The same precautions were taken in the lower counties of Dela- 
 ware, and in New Hampshire. The legal assembly of the latter 
 was convoked. They approved the proceedings of congress, and 
 wrote to congratulate the Marylanders upon their patriotism and 
 public spirit ; promising to stand prepared to defend this liberty, so 
 dear to every heart. The inhabitants, not content with this, formed 
 a convention at Exeter, which ratified the doings of congress, and 
 elected delegates for the new session. 
 
 But in South Carolina, so important a province, things went for- 
 ward with great animation. A convention "was formed of the repre- 
 sentatives of the whole province. Their first decree was to render 
 immortal thanks to the members of congress, to approve its resolu- 
 tions, and to ordain their strict execution. The manufacturers of 
 the country received encouragement ; and ample liberalities were 
 granted to the indigent inhabitants of the city of Boston. The same 
 enthusiasm inspired every breast. And, to prevent the infractions 
 which the love of gain, or private interest, might occasion, inspectors 
 were appointed, to watch, with rigorous diligence, over the execution 
 of these public resolutions. 
 
 In Massachusetts and Virginia the ardor of the people was aston- 
 ishing. All places equally presented the images of war, and the 
 
144 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 semblance of combats. The inhabitants of Marblehead, of Salem, 
 and of other seaports, finding their accustomed maritime occupations 
 interrupted by the present occurrences, turned their efforts towards 
 the land service, and engaged in it with incredible zeal. They soon 
 organised several regiments of men well trained to the exercise of 
 arms, and prepared to enter the field, if things should come to that 
 fatal extremity. The officers of the Virginia militia being assembled 
 at fort Gower, after protesting their loyalty towards the king, de- 
 clared, that the love of liberty, attachment to country, and devotion 
 to its just rights, were paramount to every other consideration ; that, 
 to fulfil these sacred duties, they were resolved to exert all the efforts 
 which the unanimous voice of their fellowcitizens should exact. 
 
 The provinces of New England presented a peculiar character. 
 Their inhabitants being extremely attached to religion, and more 
 easily influenced by this than any other motive, the preachers exer- 
 cised over their minds an authority scarcely conceivable. They 
 often insisted, and always with new vehemence, that the cause of the 
 Americans was the cause of heaven ; that God loves and protects 
 freemen, and holds the authors of tyranny in abhorrence ; that the 
 schemes of the English ministers against America were, beyond 
 measure, unjust and tyrannical, and consequently it was their most 
 .rigorous duty, not only as men and citizens, but also as Christians, 
 to oppose these attempts ; and to unite under their chiefs, in defence 
 of what man has the most precious, religion the most sacred. The 
 inhabitants of New England thus took the field, stimulated by the 
 fervor of their religious opinions, and fully persuaded that heaven 
 witnessed their efforts with complacency. The two most powerful 
 springs of human action, religious and political enthusiasm, were 
 blended in their breasts. It is therefore not surprising that, in the 
 events which followed, they exhibited 'frequent examples of singular 
 courage and invincible resolution. 
 
 Amidst a concord so general, the province of New York alone 
 hesitated to declare itself. This colony, ^and principally the capital, 
 was the scene of much party division. Its assembly having taken 
 into consideration the regulations of congress for the interruption of 
 commerce with Great Britain, refused to adopt them ; whereat the 
 inhabitants of the other provinces testified an extreme indignation. 
 This unexpected resolution must be attributed principally to ministe- 
 rial intrigues, very successful in this province, on account of the 
 great number of loyalists that inhabited it ; and who, from the name 
 of one of the parties that prevailed in England at the time of the 
 revolution, were called Tories. To this cause should be added the 
 very flourishing commerce of the city of New York, which it was 
 unwilling to lose, and perhaps, also, the hope that the remonstrances 
 of congress would dispose the British ministers to milder counsels, if 
 they were not accompanied by such rigorous determinations in regard 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 145 
 
 to commerce. Some also believed, that this conduct of New York 
 was only a wily subterfuge, to be able, afterwards, according to cir- 
 cumstances, to use it as a ground of justification. 
 
 The first of February was the destined term for suspending the 
 introduction of British merchandise into the American ports, accord- 
 ing to the resolutions of congress. Though it was known every 
 where, yet several vessels made their appearance, even after this 
 period, laden with the prohibited articles ; which the masters hoped 
 to introduce either in a clandestine mode or even by consent of the 
 Americans, weary of their obstinacy, or yielding to necessity and the 
 love of gain. But their hopes were frustrated in the greater part, or 
 rather in all the provinces except that of New York. Their cargoes 
 were thrown into the sea, or sent back. 
 
 Thus, while the forms of the ancient government still subsisted in 
 America, new laws were established, which obtained more respect 
 and obedience on the part of the people. The assemblies of the 
 provinces, districts and towns, had concentrated in their hands the 
 authority which belonged to the magistrates of the former system, 
 who had either wanted the will or the power to prevent it. And 
 thus it was no longer the governors and the ordinary assemblies, but 
 the conventions, the committees of correspondence and of inspection, 
 that had the management of state affairs. Where these were wanting, 
 the people supplied the deficiency, by assemblages and tumultuary 
 movements. The greater number were impressed with a belief, 
 that, by the effect of the leagues against British commerce, this time 
 strictly observed, and by the unanimous firmness of the colonists, the 
 effusion of blood would be avoided. They hoped the British govern- 
 ment would apply itself in earnest to give another direction to 
 American affairs ; and that public tranquillity would thus, without 
 effort, be reestablished. The popular leaders, on the contrary, were 
 aware of the necessity of an appeal to arms ; some feared, others 
 desired, this result. 
 
 Such was the situation of the English colonies, towards the close 
 of the year 1774, and at the commencement of 1775. Meanwhile, 
 whatever was the ardor with which the Americans pursued their 
 designs, the interest excited by this controversy in England had 
 materially abated. The inhabitants of that kingdom, as if wearied 
 by the long and frequent discussions which had taken place on either 
 side, betrayed an extreme repugnance to hear any thing further on 
 the subject. They had therefore abandoned themselves to an indif- 
 ference approaching to apathy. As this contest was already of ten 
 years' date, and though often on the point of issuing in an open 
 rupture, had, however, never yet come to this fatal extremity, the 
 prevailing opinion was, that, sooner or later, a definitive arrangement 
 would be effected. It was even thought, that this object might easily 
 be accomplished, by making some concessions to the Americans, 
 VOL. r. 19 
 
146 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 similar to those they had already obtained. Finally, it was considered 
 possible, that the Americans themselves, finding their interests essen- 
 tially affected by the interruption of commerce, would at length 
 submit to the will of the parent country. This opinion appeared the 
 more probable to all, inasmuch as the courage of the colonists was 
 in no great repute. It was not believed they could ever think of 
 provoking the British nation to arms ; and much less of making a 
 stand before its troops in the field. It was asserted, that, to procure 
 the execution of the late prohibitory laws against the province of 
 Massachusetts, which, if thought expedient, might easily be extended 
 to the other colonies also, would not only not require all the troops 
 of Great Britain, but not even all the immense force of her marine ; 
 that a few ships of the line, stationed at the entrance of the principal 
 ports of the colonies, and a certain number of frigates ordered to 
 cruise along the coast, to prevent the departure of American vessels, 
 would be more than sufficient to accomplish this affair ; 
 
 6 And how can it be imagined,' it was said, 'that the colonists 
 should persevere in a resistance without an object, as they have no 
 naval force to oppose against England ; who, on the other hand, can, 
 at a trifling expense, and with a few troops, enforce the prohibitions 
 she has pronounced, and reduce the American commerce to an 
 indefinite stagnation ? On the part of the mother country, the means 
 of annoyance are, in fact, almost infinite and irresistible ; whereas, 
 the colonies have nothing to oppose but a mere passive resistance, 
 and a patience of which they can neither foresee the result nor the 
 period. Besides, so many other markets remain open for British 
 merchandise, that, even though its introduction into the colonies 
 should be totally interdicted, this commerce would experience but a 
 barely perceptible diminution. Nor can it be doubted, that private 
 interests, and the usual jealousies, will ere long detach from the 
 league, successively, all the maritime parts of America. The towns 
 of the interior will necessarily follow the example ; and then what 
 becomes of this boasted confederacy ?' 
 
 From these different considerations, it ceases to be astonishing, 
 that the minds of the English people should have manifested, at this 
 epoch, so perfect a calm ; and that it should have been the general 
 determination to await from time, from fortune, and from the mea- 
 sures of the ministers, the termination of this vexatious quarrel. 
 
 In the midst of such universal torpor, and near the close of the 
 year 1774, the new parliament convened. The proceedings of the 
 general congress, and the favor they had found in America, not being 
 yet well known, some reliance was still placed in intestine divisions, 
 and the efficacy of the plan which had been adopted. The king 
 mentioned in his speech the American disturbances ; he announced, 
 that disobedience continued to prevail in Massachusetts ; that the 
 other colonies countenanced it ; that the most proper measures had 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 147 
 
 been taken to carry into execution the laws of parliament ; and that 
 he was firmly resolved to maintain unimpaired the supreme legisla- 
 tive authority of Great Britain, in all parts of his dominions. The 
 addresses proposed in the two houses were strenuously opposed ; 
 and it was not without difficulty they were at length adopted. On 
 the part of the opposition it was alleged, that, if the preceding par- 
 liament had consented to the measures proposed by the ministers, it 
 was only upon their positive assurance that they would effectually 
 reestablish tranquillity. ' But, do we not see how illusory their pro- 
 mises have proved ? Why persist, then, in resolutions that are fruit- 
 less, and even pernicious ? Has any suppliant voice been heard on 
 the part of America ? Has she given any token of repentance for 
 the past, any pledge of better dispositions for the future ? She has 
 not ; but, on the contrary, has exhibited still greater animosity, a 
 rage more intense, a concord more strict, a feith more confirmed in 
 the justice of her cause. And still, from pride, if not from ven- 
 geance, it is desired to persevere in measures so decidedly repro- 
 bated by reason, equity, and fatal experience !' 
 
 But, from the side of the ministers, it was answered ; 
 
 1 The proceedings of the colonists are so void of all respect, that 
 to endure them longer would be disgraceful. Can any thing be 
 more extraordinary, than to hear it asserted that the Americans are 
 persuaded of the justice of their cause, as if the English were not 
 persuaded also of the justice of theirs ? And if England, as a party, 
 has no right to judge of this controversy, is America to be reputed 
 entirely disinterested ? The Americans know perfectly well that 
 this is a question of right, and not of money ; the impost is a mere 
 trifle, of no importance whatever, but as it concerns the honor of this 
 kingdom. But what care they for the honor of the kingdom f 
 Nothing can ever satisfy these peevish Americans. To content 
 them how many ways of gentleness have been tried ! They have 
 only become the more insolent. They haughtily expect the English 
 to approach them in a suppliant attitude, and to anticipate all their 
 capricious desires. To conciliate them, all, except honor, has been 
 sacrificed already ; but heaven does not permit us to abandon that 
 also. The question is no longer taxation, but the redress of wrongs, 
 the reparation for deeds of outrage. This the Americans refuse, 
 and therefore deserve chastisement ; and, should England fail to 
 inflict it, she must expect a daily increase of audacity on the part of 
 her colonies, and prepare to digest the contempt which the nations 
 of Europe already entertain towards her; surprised and confused at 
 the tameness and patience of the British ministers, in the midst of 
 provocations so daring and so often repeated.' 
 
 The address of thanks was voted, according to the wishes of the 
 ministers ; and thus the Americans, who had flattered themselves 
 that the new parliament would be more favorably disposed towards 
 them than the preceding, were forced to renounce this hope. 
 
148 THE AMERICAN WAfc. BOOK IV. 
 
 It appeared, however, notwithstanding these animated demonstra- 
 tions on the part of the government, that when, previous to the 
 Christmas recess, the certain intelligence was received of the trans- 
 actions of congress, and the astonishing concord which prevailed in 
 America, the ministers, perhaps loath to embrace extreme counsels, 
 seemed inclined to relax somewhat of their rigor, and to leave an 
 opening for accommodation. Lord North even intimated to the 
 American merchants then in London, that if they presented petitions, 
 they should meet attention. But in the midst of these glimmerings 
 of peace, the news arrived of the schism of New York ; an event 
 of great moment in itself, and promising consequences still more 
 important. The minister felt his pride revive ; he would no longer 
 hear of petitions, or of accommodation. Things turned anew to 
 civil strife and war. All the papers, relating to the affairs of Ame- 
 rica, were laid before the two houses. Lord Chatham, perceiving 
 the obstinacy of the ministers in their resolution to persist in the 
 course of measures they had adopted, and fearing it might result in 
 the most disastrous effects, pronounced a long and extremely elo- 
 quent discourse in favor of the Americans, and was heard with solemn 
 attention. 
 
 Nor was the opposition to the projects of the ministers confined to 
 the two houses of parliament ; but even a considerable part of the 
 British nation was of the adverse party. The cities of London, 
 Bristol, Liverpool, Manchester, Norwich, Birmingham, Glasgow, 
 and others, where commerce had hitherto flourished, preferred their 
 petitions to parliament. They painted, in glowing traits, the detri- 
 ment their commerce had already sustained, and the still more ruin- 
 ous losses with which they were menaced by the impending contest 
 with America. They implored this body to interpose their authority 
 for the reestablishment of that calm and pacific state, which had been 
 heretofore enjoyed. But the prayers of the merchants had no better 
 success than the authority and the words of the earl of Chatham ; 
 the ministerial party even rejected them with an unfeeling harsh- 
 ness. 
 
 In the meantime, Bollan, Franklin, and Lee, presented themselves 
 before the house of commons, with the petition which the congress 
 had addressed to the king, and by him had been referred to the 
 house. They demanded to be heard in its defence. A very warm 
 discussion arose ; the ministerial party contending, that neither ought 
 the petition to be read, nor the agents to be heard ; and the party in 
 opposition, the contrary. The former affirmed, that the congress 
 was not a legal assembly ; that to receive its petitions would be to 
 recognise it as such ; that the provincial assemblies and their agents 
 were the sole true representatives of the colonies ; and that the 
 petition only contained the customary lamentations about rights, 
 without offering any means, or any probable hope of corning to an 
 arrangement 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 14 
 
 But it was answered, that however the congress might not be a 
 legal assembly, it was, nevertheless, more than competent to present 
 petitions ; every one having, either individually, or jointly with others, 
 the right to present -them ; that those who had signed the petition 
 were the most distinguished inhabitants of the colonies, and well 
 deserved to be heard, if not in their public, at least in their private 
 character. c There no longer exists any government in the colonies ; 
 the popular commotions have disorganised it absolutely ; we should 
 therefore learn to appreciate the representation of this government, 
 which has been established by the force of things. Can it be for- 
 gotten, that the American disturbances have originated, and arrived 
 at their present alarming height, from our unwillingness to hear peti- 
 tions ? Let us seize this occasion ; if we allow it to escape, a second 
 will not be offered, and all hope of accord is vanished. This is 
 probably the last attempt the Americans will make to submit, which, 
 if received with haughtiness, will become the source of inevitable 
 calamities ; for despair, and with it, obstinacy, will obtain the entire 
 possession of their minds.' But the ministers would hear nothing, 
 pleading the dignity of state. The petition was rejected. Nor was 
 a petition of the West India proprietors, representing the prejudice 
 they suffered from the interruption of their commerce with the 
 Americans, received with greater benignity. The ministers-consi- 
 dered petitions as merely the stratagems of faction. ' Admitting,' 
 they said, ' that some detriment may result from the measures relating 
 to America, it is a necessary evil, an inevitable calamity. But this 
 evil would become infinitely greater, if the government should appear 
 to yield to the will of the seditious, and descend to negotiate with 
 rebels.' 
 
 After having repulsed, with a sort of disdain, the petitions of the 
 Americans, and those presented in their favor by the islands of the 
 West Indies, and even by England herself; and after having rejected 
 all the counsels of the party in opposition, the ministers unveiled 
 their schemes, and announced, in the presence of the two houses, 
 the measures they intended to pursue, in order to reduce the. 
 Americans to obedience. Always imbued with the opinion, that the 
 diversity of interests and humors, and the rivalships existing between 
 the different provinces, would in a short time dissolve the American 
 combinations, independently of the detriment and constraint they 
 occasioned to individuals ; believing, also, that the colonists would 
 not easily support greater privations of things necessary to life ; they 
 flattered themselves, that, without sending strong armies to America, 
 and merely by a few rigorous regulations, a few prohibitory resolu- 
 tions, that should extend beyond the province of Massachusetts, and 
 affect the most internal parts of the American commerce, they should 
 be able to accomplish their purpose. It should also be added, that 
 the ministers thought the partisans of England were very numerous 
 
150 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 in America, that they were among its most distinguished inhabitants, 
 and waited only for an occasion to show themselves with effect ; 
 and, finaily, that the Americans, as they were, according to the 
 notions of the ministers, of a pusillanimous spirit, and little accus- 
 tomed to war, would not dare to look the British soldiers in the 
 face. Thus they were induced to adopt certain resolutions, which 
 \vere perhaps more cruel, and certainly more irritating, than open 
 war ; for man feels less bitterness towards the foe, who, in combat- 
 ing against him, leaves him the means of defence, than the adversary 
 who exposes him to the horrors of famine, while he is unable to 
 escape them by a generous effort. Such, as we shall soon see, was 
 the plan of the British, from which they gathered the fruits they 
 ought to have expected. But, in order to carry it into execution, it 
 was necessary that they should first arm themselves with a word that 
 should legitimate all their measures, and this was, rebellion. The 
 doctors, whom they had invited to their consultations, after having 
 considered the affair under all its faces, came to a conclusion, which, 
 however admissible in other kingdoms, might still have appeared 
 extremely doubtful in England. They pronounced, that the pro- 
 vince of Massachusetts was found in a state of rebellion. Accord- 
 ing]}^ the 2d of February, lord North, after having expatiated on 
 the benignity with which the king and parliament had proceeded in 
 maintaining the laws of the kingdom, and the necessity incumbent 
 on the ministers, of protecting loyal and affectionate subjects against 
 the rage of the seditious, proposed, that in the address to the king, 
 it should be declared, that rebellion existed in the province of 
 Massachusetts, and that it was supported and fomented by illegal 
 combinations and criminal compacts with the other colonies, to the 
 great prejudice of many innocent subjects of his majesty. 
 
 To declare the^ inhabitants of Massachusetts rebels, was to refer 
 the decision of their cause to the chance of arms was to denounce 
 war against them. Accordingly, the opponents of ministers exhibited 
 great ardor in combating this proposition ; and even in their own 
 party, a great number of individuals appeared to feel great repug- 
 nance, and a species of horror, at so grave a determination, and so 
 fraught with future calamities. The orators of the opposition con- 
 tended, that all the disorders in Massachusetts, however multiplied 
 and aggravated, ought to be attributed, originally, to the attempts of 
 those who were aiming to establish despotism, and whose measures 
 evidently tended to reduce the Americans to that abject condition of 
 slavery, which they hoped to introduce afterwards into the very 
 heart of England. < To resist oppression,' it was said ' is the subject's 
 right, and the English kingdoms have presented frequent examples 
 of its exercise. No act of violence has been committed in the pro- 
 vince of Massachusetts, that has not been equalled, or surpassed, in 
 each of the others ; from what fatal partiality, then, is this province 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 151 
 
 alone to be made responsible for all ? To press with rigor upon a 
 single province, in the hope of separating it from the others, is a 
 false measure ; all are united in the same cause ; all defend the 
 same rights. To declare rebellion, is an act full of danger, and 
 of no utility ; it only tends to aggravate the evil, to increase the 
 obstinacy of dispositions, to prepare a resistance more desperate and 
 sanguinary, as no other hope will be left them but in victory.' 
 
 But the partisans of the ministers, and particularly the doctors,* 
 who backed them, maintained, that acts of rebellion constituted 
 rebellion itself; that to resist the laws of the kingdom being reputed 
 rebellion in England, ought also to be so reputed in America; 'As 
 for the rest,' they said, ' due clemency and liberality towards those 
 who shall submit, will be mingled with the rigor to be exercised 
 against the obstinate. Reasons of state, no less than justice, demand 
 the chastisement of these insurgents ; which being visited upon a 
 few, will reclaim all to their duty ; and thus the union of the colo- 
 nies will be dissolved. Can we, in fact, make a serious matter of 
 the resistance of the Americans . ? Cowards by nature, incapable of 
 any sort of military discipline, their bodies are feeble, and their 
 inclinations are dastardly. They would not be capable of sustaining 
 a single campaign, without disbanding, or becoming so wasted by 
 sickness, that a slight force would be more than sufficient for their 
 complete reduction.' General Grant was so infatuated with this 
 opinion, that he declared openly, he would undertake, with five 
 regiments of infantry, to traverse the whole country, and drive the 
 inhabitants from one end of the continent to the other. The minis- 
 
 * It may amuse, if not surprise, the reader, to look at the outline, traced by another 
 historian, of the characters whose sagacity the author seems to question more often 
 than once ; 
 
 ' I took ray seat in parliament,' says Mr. Gibbon, ' at the beginning- of the memorable 
 contest between Great Britain and America ; and supported, with many a sincere and 
 silent vote, the rights, though not perhaps the interests, of the mother country. After 
 a fleeting, illusive hope, prudence condemned me to acquiesce in the humble station of 
 a mute. I was not armed by nature and education with the intrepid energy of mind 
 and voice, 
 
 ' Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.' 
 
 Timidity was fortified by pride ; and even the success of my pen discouraged the trial 
 of my voice. But I assisted at the debates of a free assembly ; I listened to the attack 
 and defence of eloquence and reason ; I had a near prospect of the characters, views, 
 and passions, of the first men of the age. The cause of government was ably vindicated 
 by lord Norlk, a statesman of spotless integrity, a consummate master of debate, who 
 could wield, with equal dexterity, the arms of reason and .of ridicule. He was seated 
 on the treasury bench, between his attorney and solicitor-general, the two pillars of the 
 law and state, ' magis pares quam similes ;' and the minister might indulge in a short 
 slumber, whilst he was upholden, on either hand, by the majestic sense of fhurlow, and 
 the skilful eloquence of Wedderburne. From the adverse side of the house, an ardent 
 and powerful opposition was supported, by the lively declamation of Barre ; the legal 
 acuteness of Dunning ; the profuse and philosophic fancy of Burke ; and the argumen- 
 tative vehemence of Fox, who, in conduct of a party, approved himself equal to the 
 conduct of an empire. By such men, every operation of peace and war, every principle 
 of justice or policy, every question of authority and freedom, was attacked and defended ; 
 and the subject of the momentous contest was the union or separation of Great Britain 
 and America.' [Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works.] 
 
152 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 ters, whose comprehension seems to have had certain limits, suffered 
 themselves, without reluctance, to be guided by such opinions as 
 these ; and this was one of the principal causes of their precipitancy 
 to commence the war with such feeble preparations. 
 
 The propositions of lord North were adopted, by a majority of 
 more than two thirds of the suffrages. 
 
 But the party in opposition, aware of the importance of pronounc- 
 ing so formal a declaration of rebellion, did not suffer themselves to 
 be discouraged ; and, on the 6th of the same month, lord John 
 Cavendish moved, in the house of commons, to reconsider the vote. 
 It was then that Wilkes, one of the most ardent defenders of liberty 
 of that epoch, and the declared partisan of republican principles, 
 arose, and spoke in the following terms ; 
 
 ' I am indeed surprised, that in a business of so much moment as 
 this before the house, respecting the British colonies in America, a 
 cause which comprehends almost every question relative to the com- 
 mon rights of mankind, almost every question of policy and legisla- 
 tion, it should be resolved to proceed with so little circumspection, or 
 rather with so much precipitation and heedless imprudence. With 
 what temerity are we assured, that the same men who have been so 
 often overwhelmed with praises for their attachment to this country, 
 for their forwardness to grant it the necessary succours, for the valor 
 they have signalised in its defence, have all at once so degenerated 
 from their ancient manners, as to merit the appellation of seditious, 
 ungrateful, impious rebels ! But if such a change has indeed been 
 wrought in the minds of this most loyal people, it must at least be 
 admitted, that affections so extraordinary could only have been pro- 
 duced by some very powerful cause. But who is ignorant, who needs 
 to be told of the new madness that infatuates our ministers ? who 
 has not seen the tyrannical counsels they have pursued for the last 
 ten years ? They would now have us carry to the foot of the throne, 
 a resolution stamped with rashness and injustice, fraught with blood, 
 and a horrible futurity. But before this be allowed them, before the 
 signal of civil war be given, before they are permitted to force Eng- 
 lishmen to sheath their swords in the bowels of their fellow subjects, 
 I hope this house will consider the rights of humanity, the original 
 ground and cause of the present dispute. Have we justice on our 
 side ? No ; assuredly, no. He must be altogether a stranger to the 
 British constitution, who does not know that contributions are volun- 
 tary gifts of the people ; and singularly blind, not to perceive that 
 the words ' liberty and property,' so grateful to English ears, are 
 nothing better than mockery and insult to the Americans, if their 
 property can be taken without their consent. And what motive can 
 there exist for this new rigor, for these extraordinary measures ? Have 
 not the Americans always demonstrated the utmost zeal and liberality, 
 whenever their succours have been required by the mother country , ? 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 153 
 
 ' In the two last wars, they gave you more than you asked for, and 
 more than their faculties warranted ; they were not only liberal to- 
 wards you, but prodigal of their substance. They fought gallantly 
 and victoriously by your side, with equal valor, against our and their 
 enemy, the common enemy of the liberties of Europe and America, 
 the ambitious and faithless French, whom now we fear and flatter. 
 And even now, at a moment when you are planning their destruction, 
 when you are branding them with the odious appellation of rebels, 
 what is their language, what their protestations ? Read, in the name 
 of heaven, the late petition of the congress to the king ; and you will 
 find, ' they are ready and willing, as they ever have been, to demon- 
 strate their loyalty, by exerting their most strenuous efforts in grant- 
 ing supplies and raising forces, when constitutionally required.' And 
 yet we hear it vociferated, by some inconsiderate individuals, that 
 the Americans wish to abolish the navigation act ; that they intend to 
 throw off the supremacy of Great Britain. But would to God, these 
 assertions were not rather a provocation than the truth ! They ask 
 nothing, for such are the words of .their petition, but for peace, liberty 
 and safety. They wish not a diminution of the royal prerogative ; 
 they solicit not any new right. They are ready, on the contrary, to 
 defend this prerogative, to maintain the royal authority, and to draw 
 closer the bonds of their connexion with Great Britain. But our 
 ministers, perhaps to punish others for their own faults, are sedulously 
 endeavoring not only to relax these powerful ties, but to dissolve and 
 sever them forever. Their address represents the province of Mas- 
 sachusetts as in a state of actual rebellion. The other provinces are 
 held out to our indignation, as aiding and abetting. Many arguments 
 have been employed, by some learned gentlemen among us, to com- 
 prehend them all in the same offence, and to involve them in the same 
 proscription. 
 
 1 Whether their present state is that of rebellion, or. of a fit and 
 just resistance to the unlawful acts of power, to our attempts to rob 
 them of their property and liberties, as they imagine, I shall not de- 
 clare. But I well know what will follow, nor, however strange and 
 harsh it may appear to some, shall I hesitate to announce it, that I 
 may not be accused hereafter of having failed in duty to my country, 
 on so grave an occasion, and at the approach of such direful calami- 
 ties. Know, then, a successful resistance is a revolution, not a rebel- 
 lion. Rebellion, indeed, appears on the back of a flying enemy, but 
 revolution flames on the breastplate of the victorious warrior. Who 
 can tell, whether in consequence of this day's violent and mad address 
 to his majesty, the scabbard may not be thrown away by them as well 
 as by us ; and whether, in a few years, the independent Americans 
 may not celebrate the glorious era of the revolution of 1775, as we 
 do that of 1668? The generous efforts of our forefathers for free- 
 dom, heaven crowned with success, or their noble blood had dyed 
 VOL. i. 20 
 
 
154 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IT. 
 
 our scaffolds, like that of Scottish traitors and rebels ; and the period 
 of our history which does us the most honor, would have been deem- 
 ed a rebellion against the lawful authority of the prince, not a resist- 
 ance authorised by all the laws of God and man, not the expulsion of 
 a detested tyrant. 
 
 1 But suppose the Americans to combat against us with more un- 
 happy auspices than we combatted James, would not victory itself 
 prove pernicious and deplorable ? Would it not be fatal to British as 
 well as American liberty ? Those armies which should subjugate the 
 colonists, would subjugate also their parent state. Marius, Sylla. 
 Ca3sar, Augustus, Tiberius, did they not oppress Roman liberty with 
 the same troops that were levied to maintain Roman supremacy over 
 subject provinces ? But the impulse once given, its effects extended 
 much further than its authors expected ; for the same soldiery that 
 destroyed the Roman republic, subverted and utterly demolished the 
 imperial power itself. In less than fifty years after the death of 
 Augustus, the armies destined to hold the provinces in subjection, 
 proclaimed three emperors at once ; disposed of the empire accord- 
 ing to their caprice, and raised to the throne of the Caesars the object 
 of their momentary favor. 
 
 * I can no more comprehend the policy, than acknowledge the 
 justice of your deliberations. Where is your force, what are your 
 armies, how are they to be recruited, and how supported ? The 
 single province of Massachusetts has, at this moment, thirty thousand 
 men, well trained and disciplined, and can bring, in case of emer- 
 gency, nineiy thousand into the field ; and doubt nor, they will do it, 
 when all that is dear is at stake, when forced to defend their liberty 
 and property against their cruel oppressors. The right honorable 
 gentleman with the blue riband assures us that ten thousand of our 
 troops and four Irish regiments, will make their brains turn in the 
 head a little, and strike them aghast with terror ! But where does 
 the author of this exquisite scheme propose to send his army ? Bos- 
 ton, perhaps, you may lay in ashes, or it may be made a strong gar- 
 rison ; but the province will be lost to you. You will hold Boston 
 as you hold Gibraltar, in the midst of a country which will not be 
 yours ; the whole American continent will remain in the power of 
 your enemies. The ancient story of the philosopher Calanus and the 
 Indian hide, will be verified ; where you tread, it will be kept down ; 
 .but it will rise the more in all other parts. Where your fleets and 
 armies are stationed, the possession will be secured, while they con- 
 tinue ; but all the rest will be lost. In the great scale of empire, 
 you will decline, I fear, from the decision of this day ; and the 
 Americans will rise to independence, to power, to all the greatness 
 of the most renowned states ; for they build on the solid basis of 
 general public liberty. 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 155 
 
 * I dread the effects of the present resolution ; I shudder at our 
 injustice and cruelty ; I tremble for the consequences of our impru- 
 dence. You will urge the Americans to desperation. They will 
 certainly defend their property and liberties, with the spirit of free- 
 men, with the spirit our ancestors did, and I hope we should exert 
 on a like occasion. They will sooner declare themselves independ- 
 ent, and risk every consequence of such a contest, than submit to 
 the galling yoke which administration is preparing for them. Re- 
 collect Philip II. king of Spain ; remember the Seven Provinces, 
 and the duke of Alva. It was deliberated, in the council of the 
 monarch, what measures should he adopted respecting the Low 
 Countries ; some were disposed for clemency, others advised rigor ; 
 the second prevailed. The duke of Alva was victorious, it is true, 
 wherever he appeared ; but his cruelties sowed the teeth of the ser- 
 pent. The beggars of the Briel, as they were called by the Spa- 
 niards, who despised them as you now despise the Americans, were 
 those, however, who first shook the power of Spain to the centre. 
 And, comparing the probabilities of success in the contest of that 
 day, with the chances in that of the present, are they so favorable to 
 England as they were then to Spain ? This none will pretend. 
 You all know, however, the issue of that sanguinary conflict how 
 that powerful empire was rent asunder, and severed forever into 
 many parts. Profit, then, by the experience of the past, if you 
 would avoid a similar fate. But you would declare the Americans 
 rebels ; and to your injustice and oppression, you add the most 
 opprobrious language, and the most insulting scoffs. If you persist 
 in your resolution, all hope of a reconciliation is extinct. The Ame- 
 ricans will triumph the whole continent of North America will be 
 dismembered from Great Britain, and the wide arch of the raised 
 empire fall. But I hope the just vengeance of the people will over- 
 take the authors of these pernicious counsels, and the loss of the 
 first province of the empire be speedily followed by the loss of the 
 heads of those ministers who first invented them.' 
 
 Thus spoke this ardent patriot. His discourse was a prophecy ; 
 and hence, perhaps, a new probability might be argued for the vul- 
 gar maxim, that the crazed read the future often better than the 
 sage ; for, among other things, it was said also of Wilkes, at that 
 time, that his intellects were somewhat disordered. 
 
 Captain Hervey answered him, in substance, as follows ; 
 
 * I am very far from believing myself capable of arguing the present 
 question with all the eloquence which my vehement adversary has 
 signalised in favor of those who openly, and in arms, resist the 
 ancient power of Great Britain ; as the studies which teach man the 
 art of discoursing with elegance, are too different and too remote 
 from my profession. This shall not, however, deter me from de- 
 claring my sentiments with freedom, on so important a crisis ; though 
 
156 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IT. 
 
 my words should be misinterpreted by the malignity of party, and 
 myself represented as the author of illegal counsels, or, in the lan- 
 guage of faction, the defender of tyranny. 
 
 ' And, first of all, I cannot but deplore the misery of the times, 
 and the destiny which seems to persecute our beloved country. Cari 
 I see her, without anguish, reduced to this disastrous extremity, not 
 only by the refractory spirit of her ungrateful children on the other 
 side of the ocean, but also by some of those who inhabit this kingdom, 
 and whom honor, if not justice and gratitude, should engage, in 
 words and deeds, to support and defend her? Till we give a check 
 to these incendiaries, who, with a constancy and art only equalled by 
 their baseness and infamy, blow discord and scatter their poison in 
 every place, in vain can we hope, without coming to the last extremi- 
 ties, to bring the leaders of this deluded people to a sense of their 
 duty. 
 
 1 To deny that the legislative power of Great Britain is entire, 
 general and sovereign, over all parts of its dominions, appears to me 
 too puerile to merit a serious answer. What I would say is, that, 
 under this cover of rights, under this color of privileges, under these 
 pretexts of immunities, the good and loyal Americans have concealed 
 a design, not new, but now openly declared, to cast off every species 
 of superiority, and become altogether an independent nation. They 
 complained of the stamp act. It was repealed. Did this satisfy 
 them f On the contrary, they imbittered more than ever our re- 
 spective relations ; now refusing to indemnify the victims of their 
 violence, and now to rescind resolutions that were so many strides 
 towards rebellion. And yet, in these cases, there was no question 
 of taxes, either internal or external. A duty was afterwards imposed 
 on glass, paper, colors, and tea. They revolted anew ; and the 
 bounty of this too indulgent mother again revoked the greater part 
 of these duties ; leaving only that upon tea, which may yield, at the 
 utmost, sixteen thousand pounds sterling. Even this inconsiderable 
 impost, Great Britain, actuated by a meekness and forbearance with- 
 out example, would have repealed also, if the colonists had peace- 
 ably expressed their wishes to this effect. At present, they bitterly 
 complain of the regular troops sent amongst them to maintain the 
 public repose. But, in the name of God, what is the cause of their 
 presence in Boston ? American disturbances. If the colonists had 
 not first interrupted the general tranquillity, if they had respected 
 property, public and private ; if they had not openly resisted the 
 laws of parliament and the ordinances of the king, they would not 
 have seen armed soldiers within their walls. But the truth is, they 
 expressly excite the causes, in order to be able afterwards to bemoan 
 the effects. When they were menaced with real danger, when they 
 were beset by enemies from within and from without, they not only 
 consented to admit regular troops into the very heart of their pro- 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 157 
 
 vinces, but urged us, with the most earnest solicitations, to send 
 them ; but now the danger is past, and the colonists, by our treasure 
 and blood, are restored to their original security, now these troops 
 have become necessary to repress the factious, to sustain the action 
 of the laws, their presence is contrary to the constitution, a manifest 
 violation of American liberty, an attempt to introduce tyranny ; as if 
 it were not the right and the obligation of the supreme authority, to 
 protect the peace of the interior as well as that of the exterior, and 
 to repress internal as effectually as external enemies. 
 
 ' As though the Americans were fearful of being called, at a future 
 clay, to take part in the national representation, they preoccupy the 
 ground, and warn you, in advance, that, considering their distance, 
 they cannot be represented in the British parliament ; which means, 
 if I am not deceived, that they will not have a representative power 
 in common with England, but intend to enjoy one by themselves, 
 perfectly distinct from this of the parent state. But why do 1 waste 
 time in these vain subtleties ? Not content with exciting discord at 
 home, with disturbing all the institutions of social life, they endeavor 
 also to scatter the germs of division in the neighboring colonies, such 
 as Nova Scotia, the Floridas, and especially Canada. Nor is this 
 the end of their intrigues. Have we not read here, in this land of 
 genuine felicity, the incendiary expressions of their address to the 
 English people, designed to allure them to the side of rebellion ? 
 Yes ; they have wished, and with all their power have attempted, to 
 introduce into the bosom of this happy country, outrage, tumults, 
 devastation, pillage, bloodshed, and open resistance to the laws ! A 
 thousand times undone the English people, should they suffer them- 
 selves to be seduced by the flatteries of the Americans ! The sweet 
 peace, the inestimable liberty, they now enjoy, would soon be replaced 
 by the most ferocious anarchy, devouring their wealth, annihilating 
 their strength, contaminating and destroying all the happiness of their 
 existence. Already have the colonists trampled on all restraints ; 
 already have they cast off all human respect ; and, amidst their 
 subtle machinations, and the shades in which they envelop themselves, 
 they suffer, as it were, in spite of themselves, their culpable designs 
 to appear. If they have not yet acquired the consistence, they at 
 least assume the forms of an independent nation. 
 
 ' Who among us has not felt emotions kindling deep in his breast, 
 or transports of indignation, at the reading of the decrees of congress, 
 in which, with a language and a tone better beseeming the haughty 
 courts of Versailles or of Madrid than the subjects of a great king, 
 they ordain imperiously the cessation of all commerce between their 
 country and our own ? We may transport our merchandise and our 
 commodities among all other nations. It is only under the inhospi- 
 table skies of America, only in this country, dyed with the blood, and 
 bathed in the sweat, we have shed for the safety and prosperity of 
 
158 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 its inhabitants, that English industry cannot hope for protection, can- 
 not find an asylum ! Are we then of a spirit to endure that our 
 subjects trace around us the circle of Popilius, and proudly declare 
 on what conditions they will deign to obey the ancient laws of the 
 common country ? But all succeeds to their wish ; they hope from 
 our magnanimity that war will result, and from war, independence. 
 And what a people is this, whom benefits cannot oblige, whom cle- 
 mency exasperates, whom the necessity of defence, created by 
 themselves, offends ! 
 
 ' If, therefore, no doubt can remain as to the projects of these 
 ungrateful colonists ; if an universal resistance to the civil government 
 and to the laws of the country ; if the interruption of a free and 
 reciprocal commerce between one part and another of the realm ; 
 if resisting every act of the British legislature, and absolutely, in 
 word and deed, denying the sovereignty of this country ; if laying a 
 strong hand on the revenues of America ; if seizing his majesty's 
 forts, artillery and ammunition ; if exciting and stimulating, by every 
 means, the whole subjects of America to take arms, and to resist the 
 constitutional authority of Great Britain, are acts of treason, then 
 are the Americans in a state of the most flagrant rebellion. Where- 
 fore, then, should we delay to take resolute measures ? If no other 
 alternative is left us, if it is necessary to use the power which we 
 enjoy, under heaven, for the protection of the whole empire, let us 
 show the Americans that, as our ancestors deluged this country with 
 their blood to leave us a free constitution, we, like men in defiance 
 of faction at home and rebellion abroad, are determined, in glorious 
 emulation of their example, to transmit it, perfect and unimpaired, to 
 our posterity. I hear it said by these propagators of sinister augeries, 
 that we shall be vanquished in this contest. But all human enter- 
 prises are never without a something of uncertainty. Are high minded 
 men for this to stand listless, and indolently abandon to the caprices 
 of fortune the conduct of their affairs ? If this dastardly doctrine 
 prevailed, if none would ever act without assurance of the event, 
 assuredly no generous enterprise would ever be attempted ; chance 
 and blind destiny would govern the world. I trust, however, in the 
 present crisis, we may cherish better hopes ; for, even omitting the 
 bravery of our soldiers and the ability of our generals, loyal subjects 
 are not so rare /in America as some believe, or affect to believe. 
 And, besides, will the Americans long support the privation of all the 
 things necessary to life, which our numerous navy will prevent from 
 reaching their shores ? 
 
 ' This is what I think of our present situation ; these are the 
 sentiments of a man neither partial nor vehement, but free from all pre- 
 possessions, and ready to combat and shed the last drop of his blood, 
 to put down the excesses of license, to extirpate the germs of cruel 
 anarchy, to defend the rights and the privileges of this most innocent 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 159 
 
 people, whether he finds their enemies in the savage deserts of 
 America, or in the cultivated plains of England. 
 
 ' And if there are Catalines among us, who plot in darkness perni- 
 cious schemes against the state, let them be unveiled and dragged to 
 light, that they may be offered -a sacrifice, as victims to the just ven- 
 geance of this courteous country ; that their names may be stamped 
 with infamy to the latest posterity, and their memory held in execra- 
 tion, by all men of worth, in every future age !' 
 
 The vehemence of these two discourses, excited an extraordinary 
 agitation in the house of commons ; after it was calmed, the propo- 
 sition of the ministers was put to vote and carried, by a majority of 
 two thirds of the house. 
 
 Such was the conclusion of the most important affair that for a 
 long time had been submitted to the decision of parliament. The 
 inhabitants of all Europe, as well as those of Great Britain, awaited 
 with eager curiosity, the result of these debates. During their 
 continuance, the foreign ministers, resident in London, attentively 
 watched all the movements of the ministry, and the discussions of 
 parliament, persuaded that whatever might be the decision, it could 
 not fail to prove fertile in events of the highest importance, not only 
 for England, but also for all the other European states. 
 
 On the same day was read a petition from the island of Jamaica, 
 very energetic, and totally in favor of the colonies. It displeased, 
 and, as usual, was thrown aside. 
 
 The ministers having attained their object, in causing the inhabitants 
 of Massachusetts to be declared rebels, resolved to lay before parlia- 
 ment the system of measures they intended to pursue, in regard to 
 the affairs of America. Having either no adequate idea of the 
 inflexibility of men, inflamed by the zeal of new opinions, or being 
 preoccupied by passion, or perhaps restrained by the timidity of their 
 characters, they persisted in believing, that the Americans would not 
 long endure the privation of their commerce, and thus becoming 
 divided among themselves, would solicit an arrangement. Relying 
 also too implicitly on the assertions of Hutchinson, and other officers 
 of the crown, that had been, or still were in America, who assured 
 them that the friends of England, in the colonies, were powerful in 
 numbers, resources and influence, they no longer hesitated to adopt 
 the most rigorous measures, without supporting them by a commen- 
 surate force. , 
 
 Thus guided, as usual, by their spirit of infatuation, they confided 
 their cause, not to the certain operation of armies, but to the supposed 
 inconstancy and partiality of the American people. Upon such a 
 foundation, lord North proposed a new bill, the object of which was 
 to restrict the commerce of New England to Great Britain, Ireland 
 and the West India islands, and prohibit, at the same time, the fishery 
 of Newfoundland. The prejudice that must have resulted from this 
 
160 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK IV. 
 
 act, to the inhabitants of New England, may be calculated from the 
 single fact, that they annually employed in this business about forty-six 
 thousand tons and six thousand seamen; and the produce realised 
 from it, in foreign markets, amounted to three hundred and twenty 
 thousand pounds sterling. This bill, however, did not pass without 
 opposition in the two houses ; on the contrary, the debates and the 
 agitation it excited, were vehement in both. Many of the members 
 exerted all their efforts to defeat it, and more than any, the marquis 
 of Rockingham, who presented, to this end, a petition of the London 
 merchants. 
 
 The bill was, however, approved by a great majority. The oppo- 
 sition protested ; the ministers scarcely deigned to perceive it. 
 
 This prohibition of all foreign commerce, and of the fishery of 
 Newfoundland, at first comprehended only the four provinces of New 
 England ; but the ministers finding the parliament placid and docile, 
 afterwards extended it to the other colonies, with the exception of 
 .New York and North Carolina. They alleged it was expedient to 
 punish all the provinces which had participated in the league against 
 British commerce and manufactures. This proposition was approved 
 without difficulty. After a few days had transpired, they moved, 
 that the counties situated on the Delaware, New Castie, Kent, and 
 Sussex, should be subjected to the same laws, as they also had mani- 
 fested a spirit of rebellion. The clause was added. Thus the 
 English ministers employed only partial measures ; imitating those 
 little children, who having constructed a dyke of clay for their amuse- 
 ment, are incessantly occupied in stopping, one after another, all the 
 appertures through which the water seeks to escape. 
 
 Meanwhile, they had given orders to embark a corps of ten thousand 
 men for America, as they considered this force sufficient to reestablish 
 submission and obedience to the laws ; always confidently relying 
 upon the divisions of the Americans, and the great number of those 
 they conceived to be devoted to the British cause. To this error of 
 the ministers must be attributed the length of the war and the termi- 
 nation it had ; as it was essential to success, that the first impressions 
 should have been energetic ; that the first movements should have 
 compelled the Americans to banish all idea of resistance ; in a word, 
 that a sudden display of an overwhelming force should have reduced 
 them to the necessity of immediately laying down arms. But the 
 ministers preferred to trust the issue of this all important contest, to 
 the intrigues, however at all times uncertain, of factions and parties, 
 rather than to the agency of formidable armies. 
 
 But the counsels of the ministers ended not here. Wishing to 
 blend with rigor a certain clemency, and also to prevent new occa- 
 sions of insurrection in America, they brought forward the project 
 of a law, purporting, that when, in any province or colony, the 
 governor, council, assembly, or general court, shqpld propose to make 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 161 
 
 provision according to their respective conditions, circumstances and 
 faculties, for contributing their proportion to the common defence ; 
 such proportion to be raised under the authorities of the general 
 court or assembly in each province or colony, and disposable by 
 parliament ; and should engage to make provision also for the sup- 
 port of the civil government, and the administration of justice in 
 such province or colony, it would be proper, if such proposal should 
 be approved by the king in his parliament, and for so long as such 
 provision should be made accordingly, to forbear, in respect of such 
 province or colony, to impose any duties, taxes, or assessment, except 
 only such as might be thought necessary for the regulation" of com- 
 merce. 
 
 If this proposition displeased many among the members of tLe 
 ministerial party, as being greatly derogatory to the 'dignity and rights 
 of the parliament, which ought to make no concessions to rebels, 
 while they have arms in their hands ; it may be presumed that it was 
 received with every mark of the most violent disapprobation by the 
 adverse party ; they declared it to be base, vile, and insidious. But 
 the ministers considered, that whatever might be the fate of the law 
 in America, and even supposing it should not be accepted, the people 
 of England, at least, would be convinced that nothing could subdue 
 the obstinacy of the colonists, and that, as to finances, they were 
 determined to bear no part of the public burthens. According to 
 the views of the ministry, if this law was to produce greater concord 
 in England, it would be likely, they apprehended, to create divisions 
 in America ; for if a single province accepted the offer, and consented 
 to an accommodation, the confederacy of the Americans, by which 
 alone they were formidable, dissolved of itself. Lord North, in his 
 discourse to the parliament, did not dissemble this last hope. 
 
 The colonists affected to resent this project as a violent outrage ; 
 they complained that the minister attempted to follow the too well 
 known maxim of divide and reign ; as if the English ministers ought 
 not to consider laudable what they reputed blameable ; as if, between 
 declared enemies, things were to be estimated by a common weight 
 and measure ! 
 
 Such were the sentiments of the ministers respecting American 
 affairs. Meanwhile, those who in England, and even in parliament, 
 favored the cause of the colonists, had not been discouraged by the 
 little success it obtained. They plainly foresaw the extent of the evils 
 to which the Americans would be exposed if the resolutions of the 
 ministers should be executed. Unwilling to fail in their duty to their 
 country, and perhaps also stimulated by ambition, in case things 
 should take an unfortunate direction, they resolved to renew their, 
 efforts, to induce, .if possible, the government to embrace measures 
 more calculated to cairn the exasperated minds of the colonists, and 
 dispose them to Concord ; for they were very far from believing 
 
 VOL. I. 21 
 
162 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 that the mode proposed by lord North would have the expected 
 result. 
 
 Accordingly, Edmund Burke, one of the members of the house 
 of commons, who, by his genius, his knowledge, and his rare elo- 
 quence, had acquired the most brilliant reputation, declared upon 
 this occasion, that it gave him singular satisfaction to find the minis- 
 ters disposed to make any concessions to the Americans, and since 
 lord North himself had proposed a way which he supposed might 
 lead to conciliation, he accepted it as a most happy augury ; as an 
 avowal, that in the present question, no regard was to be had for 
 vain imaginations, for abstract ideas of rights, and general theories 
 of government, but on the contrary, that it was essential to reason 
 from the nature of things, from actual circumstances, from practice, 
 and from experience. 
 
 He then entered into an accurate investigation of the actual state 
 of the colonies ; he considered their situation, extent, wealth, popu- 
 lation, agriculture, commerce, with their power and weight in the 
 scale of empire. He adverted to that invincible spirit of freedom 
 which distinguishes them in so peculiar a manner from all other 
 people. He observed, that while Great Britain had governed 
 America, conformably to all these circumstances, both countries 
 had been united and happy ; and that to reestablish this pros- 
 perous state of things, it was only necessary to resume the ac- 
 customed system of government. In examining the different plans 
 proposed for the government of America, he animadverted particu- 
 larly upon that of force; a method which, as the most simple and easy 
 to comprehend, men were apt to have recourse to in all difficult cir- 
 cumstances ; without reflecting that what appears the most expedi- 
 tious, is frequently the least expedient. He remarked, that the 
 utility of employing force, depended upon times and circumstances, 
 which were always variable and uncertain ; that it destroyed the 
 very objects of preservation ; that it was a mode of governing 
 hitherto unknown in the colonies, and therefore dangerous to make 
 trial of; that their flourishing condition, and the benefits thence 
 resulting to England, were owing to quite other causes, to a method 
 totally different ; that all discussions of right and of favors, should be 
 disclaimed in such a subject ; the surest rule to govern the colonies 
 was to call them to participate in the free constitution of England, 
 by giving the Americans the guaranty of parliament, that Great 
 Britain shall never depart from the principles which shall be once 
 established ; that, in such matters, it was better to consult prudence 
 than cavil about right ; that the solemn doctors of the laws had noth- 
 ing to do with this affair ; that practice was always a wiser counsellor 
 than speculation ; that experience had already marked the road to 
 be taken on this occasion ; it had long been followed with advantage 
 and safety ; that this tested system could not betfpresumed too soon, 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 163 
 
 by abandoning all new and extraordinary projects. He concluded 
 by saying, that, as there existed no reason for believing that the 
 colonists would be less disposed in future to grant subsidies, volunta- 
 rily, than they had been in times past, he would have the secretaries 
 of state address the customary requisitions to their assemblies. 
 
 The ministers rose to reply ; and this time, a thing rather strange, 
 and not to have been expected from the partisans of lord Bute, they 
 demonstrated great solicitude for liberty ; so true it is, that if some- 
 times the promoters of popular anarchy, as also those of absolute 
 power, frequently vociferate the name of liberty, it is because they 
 know that if the people cannot love what oppresses them, they may 
 at least easily be deceived by the appearance and the name alone of 
 that which constitutes their happiness. Accordingly, the ministers 
 declared, that it would be a dangerous thing for liberty, if the colo- 
 nies could, without the consent of parliament, and simply upon the 
 requisition of ministers, grant subsidies to the crown. 
 
 1 Besides,' they added, ' the* colonial assemblies have never had 
 the legal faculty to grant subsidies of themselves ; it is a privilege 
 peculiar to parliament, which cannot be communicated to any other 
 body whatsoever. We read, in the Declaration of Rights, " that 
 levying money for the use of the crown, by pretence of prerogative, 
 and without the consent of parliament, is an act contrary to law." 
 A minister who should suffer the grant of any sort of revenues from 
 the colonies to the crown, without the consent of parliament, would 
 be liable to impeachment. Although, in time of war, and from the 
 urgency of circumstances, this abuse has sometimes been tolerated, 
 it could not be admitted in times of peace, without the total subver- 
 sion of the constitution. What will be the consequence, if the par- 
 liament once divests itself of the right to tax the colonies ? It will no 
 longer be possible to ground calculations upon any subsidies on their 
 part ; for, because they have furnished them heretofore, can it be 
 inferred that they will always furnish them in future ? It may 
 happen, that on some pressing occasion they will refuse ; and if they 
 should, what means will remain to enforce their contributions ? 
 Finally, if they passed resolutions for levying money in the last war, 
 it was because their own interests were concerned, and the dangers 
 immediately menaced themselves ; but, in other circumstances, and 
 for interests more remote, whether they would furnish similar sub- 
 sidies, appears extremely doubtful.' 
 
 Such was the answer of the ministers. The motion of Burke was 
 rejected ; not, however, without causing pain to many among the 
 English, who ardently desired that some means might be devised, 
 by which a reconciliation could be effected. But such were not the 
 impressions of the still greater number that adhered to the party of 
 the ministers. In the present state of things, the affair of taxation 
 was, or appeared to have become, the least important part of the 
 
164 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 controversy ; the quarrel, increasing in virulency, had extended to 
 other objects of still greater moment, and concerning the very 
 nature of the government. 
 
 The ministerial party entertained the most violent suspicions, that, 
 under this shadow of pretensions about taxes and constitutional 
 liberty, machinations were concealed, tending to alter the form of 
 government, to propagate, and perhaps to realize, those ideas of a 
 republic which had occasioned in England so much discord and so 
 many wars. 
 
 The present partisans of liberty in America, and those who favor- 
 ed them in Great Britain, much resembled those of times past ; and 
 it was apprehended they were plotting the same designs. The least 
 partiality for the cause of the Americans was viewed as a criminal 
 scheme against the state ; all those who declared themselves in their 
 favor were 'considered as an audacious set of men, full of ambition 
 and obstinacy, who, to acquire power and gratify their vengeance, 
 would have involved the whole empire in devastation and carnage. 
 It was believed, that, as fathers leave their inheritance to their 
 children, the patriots of the times of the revolution had transmitted 
 the venom of their opinions to those of the present epoch ; and that 
 these, by means of the American revolution, were seeking to accom- 
 plish their pernicious plots. The insurrection of the colonies, and 
 the intestine dissentions in England, seemed to be the prelude of 
 their nefarious purposes. It appeared manifest, that, in the expec- 
 tation of future events, unable as yet to make themselves masters of 
 the state, they had formed a conspiracy to attack incessantly those 
 who governed it, with their odious imputations and incendiary 
 clamors. In effect, the partisans of the Americans had, for some 
 time, abandoned themselves to the most extraordinary proceedings. 
 They observed no human respect, no sort of measure ; all ways, 
 all means, they reputed honest, if conducive to their purposes. 
 Consequently, in a discussion sustained with so much vehemence, 
 and imbitlered by the remembrance of ancient outrages, every 
 motion in favor of the Americans was interpreted in the most unfa- 
 vorable manner. It was thought that Great Britain had no interest 
 in coming to an accommodation with her colonists, until this republi- 
 can spirit was first put down and extinguished ; and, as this could 
 not be effected but by force of arms, the friends of government 
 wished they might be employed; * Whatever,' said they, 'maybe 
 the result of mild counsels, they will but palliate the evil, not effect 
 its cure ; it will reappear on the first favorable occasion, more form- 
 idable than ever.' 
 
 Such were the prevailing opinions, both within and without the 
 parliament. To these apprehensions must be attributed, principally, 
 the harsh reception encountered by all the propositions for an accom- 
 modation, which were made by the friends of the Americans. The 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 165 
 
 ministers, besides, were persuaded that the insurrection of the colo- 
 nies proceeded rather from a popular effervescence than a concerted 
 plan ; and that this flame would expire, as promptly as it had been 
 kindled. 
 
 Propositions of arrangement, and petitions, continued, however, 
 still to be offered ; but perhaps they were made merely because it 
 was known they would be rejected, as they were in effect. Thus 
 were extinguished all hopes of reconciliation ; thus the last extremi- 
 ties were rendered inevitable ; thus was announced the precipitate 
 approach of war ; and good citizens perceived, with horror, the 
 calamities about to fall upon their country. 
 
 Meanwhile, the horizon became every day more lowering, in 
 America ; and civil war seemed only waiting the signal to explode. 
 The congress of Massachusetts had passed a resolution for the pur- 
 chase of all the gunpowder that could be found, and of every sort of 
 arms and ammunition requisite for an army of fifteen thousand men. 
 This decree was executed with the utmost solicitude ; and, as these 
 objects abounded principally in Boston, the inhabitants employed all 
 their address to procure and transport them to places of safety in 
 the country, by deceiving the vigilance of the guard stationed upon 
 the isthmus. Cannon, balls, and other instruments of war, were 
 carried through the English posts, in carts apparently loaded with 
 manure ; powder, in the baskets or panniers of those who came from 
 the Boston market ; and cartridges were concealed in candle boxes. 
 
 Thus the provincials succeeded in their preparations ; but, as it 
 was feared that general Gage might send detachments to seize the 
 military stores in places where they were secreted, men were chosen 
 to keep watch at Charlestown, Cambridge and Roxbury, and be 
 ready to despatch couriers to the towns where the magazines were 
 kept, as often as they should see any band of soldiers issuing from 
 Boston. General Gage was not asleep. Having received intima- 
 tion that several pieces of artillery were deposited in the neighbor- 
 hood of Salem, he sent a detachment of the garrison at the castle to 
 seize them, and return to Boston. They landed at Marblehead, 
 and proceeded to Salem ; but without finding the object of their 
 search. They had to pass a drawbridge, which formed the com- 
 munication with Danvers, where the people had collected in great 
 numbers. The bridge had been drawn, to impede the passage of 
 the royal troops ; the captain in command ordered the bridge down ; 
 the people refused ; and a warm altercation ensued with the soldiers. 
 A sinister event appeared inevitable. At this juncture, came up 
 a clergyman, named Bernard, a man of great authority with the 
 people, who persuaded them to let down the bridge. The soldiers 
 passed it ; and having made a slight incursion on the other side, in 
 token of the liberty they had obtained to scour the country, they 
 returned peaceably on board. But the country people had already 
 
166 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 concealed, in places more secure, the artillery and ammunition. 
 Accordingly, the expedition of general Gage completely failed of 
 success. 
 
 Thus, by the prudence of a single man, the effusion of blood was 
 prevented ; of which the danger was eminent. The resistance, how- 
 ever, which the soldiers encountered, had greatly exasperated their 
 minds ; and if, before, the people of Boston lived in a state of con- 
 tinual jealousy, after this event, the reciprocal irritation and rancor 
 had so increased, that it was feared, every moment, the soldiers and 
 the citizens would come to blows. 
 
 But war being momently expected, the particular fate of the 
 inhabitants of Boston had become the object of general solicitude. 
 The garrison was formidable ; the fortifications carried to perfection ; 
 and little hope remained that this city could be wrested from British 
 domination. Nor could the citizens flatter themselves more with 
 the hope of escaping by sea, as the port was blockaded by a squad- 
 ron. Thus confined amidst an irritated soldiery, the Bostonians 
 found themselves exposed to endure all the" outrages to be appre- 
 hended from military license. Their city had become a close prison, 
 and themselves no better than hostages in the hands of the British 
 commanders. This consideration alone sufficed greatly to impede 
 all civil and military operations projected by the Americans. Va- 
 rious expedients were suggested, in order to extricate the Bostonians 
 from this embarrassing situation ; which, if they evinced no great 
 prudence, certainly demonstrated no ordinary obstinacy. Some 
 advised, that all the inhabitants of Boston should abandon the city, 
 and take refuge in other places, where they should be succoured at 
 the public expense ; but this design was totally impracticable ; since it 
 depended on general Gage to prevent its execution. Others recom- 
 mended, that a valuation should be made of the houses and furniture 
 belonging to the inhabitants, that the city should then be fired, and 
 that all the losses should be reimbursed from the public treasure. 
 After mature deliberation, this project was also. pronounced not only 
 very difficult, but absolutely impossible to be executed. Many 
 inhabitants, however, left the city privately, and withdrew into the 
 interior of the country ; some, from disgust at this species of captivi- 
 ty ; others, from fear of the approaching hostilities ; and others, 
 finally, from apprehensions of beiYig questioned for acts against the 
 government ; but a great number, also, with a firm resolution, pre- 
 ferred to remain, and brave all consequences whatever. The 
 soldiers of the garrison, weary of their long confinement, desired to 
 sally forth, and drive away these rebels, who interrupted their pro- 
 visions, and for whom they cherished so profound a contempt. The 
 inhabitants of Massachusetts, on the other hand, were proudly indig- 
 nant at this opinion of their cowardice, entertained by the soldiers ; 
 and panted for an occasion to prove, by a signal 'vengeance, the 
 falsehood of the reproach. 
 
BOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 167 
 
 In the meantime, the news arrived of the king's speech at the 
 opening of parliament ; of the resolutions adopted by that body ; 
 and, finally, of the act by which the inhabitants of Massachusetts 
 were declared rebels. All the province flew to arms ; indignation 
 became fury, obstinacy, desperation. All idea of reconciliation 
 had become chimerical ; necessity stimulated the most timid ; a 
 thirst of vengeance fired every breast. The match is lighted, the 
 materials disposed, the conflagration impends. The children are 
 prepared to combat against their fathers ; citizens against citizens ; 
 and, as the Americans declared, the friends of liberty against its 
 oppressors, against the founders of tyranny. 
 
 ( In these arms,' said they, ' in our right hands, are placed the 
 hope of safety, the existence of country, the defence of property, 
 the honor of our wives and daughters. With these alone can we 
 repulse a licentious soldiery, protect what man holds dearest upon 
 earth, and unimpaired transmit our rights to our descendants. The 
 world will admire our courage ; all good men will second us with 
 their wishes and prayers, and celebrate our names with immortal 
 praises. Our memory will become dear to posterity. It will be the 
 example, as the hope of freemen, and the dread of tyrants, to the 
 latest ages. It is time that old and contaminated England should be 
 made acquainted with the energies of America, in the prime and 
 innocence of her youth ; it is time she should know how much supe- 
 rior are our soldiers in courage and constancy, to vile mercenaries. 
 We must look back no more ! We must conquer or die ! We are 
 placed between altars smoking with the most grateful incense of 
 glory and gratitude, on the one part, and blocks and dungeons on 
 the other. Let each then rise, and gird himself for the combat. 
 The dearest interests of this world command it ; our most holy 
 religion enjoins it ; that God, who eternally rewards the virtuous, 
 and punishes the wicked, ordains it. Let us accept these happy 
 auguries; for already the mercenary satellites, sent by wicked 
 ministers to reduce this innocent people to extremity, are imprisoned 
 within the walls of a single city, where hunger emaciates them, rage 
 devours them, death consumes them. Let us banish every fear, 
 every alarm ; fortune smiles upon the efforts of the brave !' 
 
 By similar discourses, they excited one another, and prepared 
 themselves for defence. The fatal moment is arrived ; the signal of 
 civil war is given. 
 
 General Gage was informed, that the provincials had amassed 
 large quantities of arms and ammunition, in the towns of Worcester 
 and Concord ; which last is eighteen miles distant from the city of 
 Boston. Excited by the loyalists, who had pursuaded him that he 
 would find no resistance, considering the cowardice of the patriots, 
 and perhaps not imagining that fhe sword would be drawn so soon, 
 he resolved to send a few companies to Concord, in order to seize 
 
168 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 the military stores deposited there, and transport them to Boston, or 
 destroy them. It was said also, that he had it in view, by this sud- 
 den expedition, to get possession of the persons of John Hancock 
 and of Samuel Adams, two of the most ardent patriot chiefs, and 
 the principal directors of the provincial congress, then assembled in 
 the town of Concord. But to avoid exciting irritation, and the 
 popular tumults, which might have obstructed his design, he resolved 
 to act with caution, and in the shade of mystery. Accordingly, he 
 ordered the grenadiers, and several companies of light infantry, to 
 hold themselves in readiness to march out of the city, at the first 
 signal ; adding, that it was in order to pass review, and execute dif- 
 ferent manoeuvres and military evolutions. The Bostonians enter- 
 tained suspicions ; and sent to warn Adams and Hancock to be upon 
 their guard. The committee of public safety gave directions that 
 the arms and ammunition should be distributed about in different 
 places. Meanwhile, general Gage, to proceed with more secrecy, 
 commanded a certain number of officers, who had been made 
 acquainted with his designs, to go, as if on a party of pleasure, and 
 dine at Cambridge, which is situated very near Boston, and upoa 
 the road to Concord. It was on the 18th of April, in the evening, 
 these officers dispersed themselves here and there upon the road and 
 passages, to intercept the couriers that might have been despatched 
 to give notice of the movement of the troops. The governor gave 
 orders that no person should be allowed to leave the city ; neverthe- 
 less, doctor Warren, one of the most active patriots, had timely inti- 
 mation of the scheme, and immediately despatched confidential mes- 
 sengers ; some of whom found the roads interdicted by the officers 
 that guarded them ; but others made their way unperceived to Lex- 
 ington, a town upon the road leading to Concord. The intelligence 
 was soon divulged ; the people flocked together, the bells, < in all 
 parts, were rung to give the alarm ; the continual firing of cannon 
 spread the agitation through all the neighboring country. In the 
 midst of this tumultuous scene, at eleven in the evening, a strong 
 detachment of grenadiers, and of light infantry, was embarked at 
 Boston, and went to take land at a place called Phipps' Farm, 
 whence they marched towards Concord. In this state of things, the 
 irritation had become so intense, that a spark only was wanting, to 
 produce an explosion ; as the event soon proved. 
 
 The troops were under the command of lieutenant-colonel Smith, 
 and major Pitcairn, who led the vanguard. The militia of Lexing- 
 ton, as the intelligence of the movement of this detachment was 
 uncertain, had separated in the course of the night. Finally, at five 
 in the morning of the 10th, advice was received of the near approach 
 of the royal troops. The provincials, that happened to be near, 
 assembled to the number of about seventy, certainly too few to have 
 had the intention to engage in combat. The English appeared, and 
 
BOOK IV. . THE AMERICAN WAR. 160 
 
 major Pitcairn cried in a loud voice, ' Disperse rebels, lay down 
 arms, and disperse.' The provincials did not obey, upon which he 
 sprung from the ranks, discharged a pistol, and, brandishing his 
 sword, ordered his soldiers to fire. The provincials retreated ; the 
 English continuing their fire, the former faced about to return it. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hancock and Adams retired from danger ; and it is 
 related, that while on the march, the latter, enraptured with joy, ex- 
 claimed, ' Oh ! what an ever glorious morning is this !' considering 
 this first effusion of blood as the prelude of events which must secure 
 the happiness of his country. The soldiers advanced towards Con- 
 cord. The inhabitants assembled, and appeared disposed to act 
 upon the defensive, but seeing the numbers of the enemy, they fell 
 back, and posted themselves on the bridge, which is found north of 
 the town, intending to wait for reenforcements from the neighboring 
 places ; but the light infantry assailed them with fury, routed them, 
 and occupied the bridge, whilst the others entered Concord, and 
 proceeded to the execution of their orders. They spiked two pieces 
 of twenty-four pound cannon, destroyed their carriages, and a num- 
 ber of wheels for the use of the artillery ; threw into the river, and 
 into wells, five hundred pounds of bullets, and wasted a quantity of 
 flour deposited there by the provincials. These were the arms and 
 provisions which gave the first occasion to a long and cruel war ! 
 
 But the expedition was not yet terminated ; the minute-men arriv- 
 ed, and the forces of the provincials were increased by continual 
 accessions from every quarter. The light infantry who scoured the 
 country above Concord, were obliged to retreat, and on entering the 
 town a hot skirmish ensued. A great number were killed on both 
 sides. The light infantry having joined the main body of the de- 
 tachment, the English retreated precipitately towards Lexington ; 
 already the whole country had risen in arms, and the militia, from 
 all parts, flew to the succour of their own. Before the British 
 detachment had arrived at Lexington, its rear guard and flanks 
 suffered great annoyance from the provincials, who, posted behind 
 the trees, walls, and frequent hedges, kept up a brisk fire, which the 
 enemy could not return. The soldiers of the king found themselves 
 in a most perilous situation. 
 
 General Gage, apprehensive of the event, had despatched, in 
 haste, under the command of Lord Percy, a reenforcernent of six- 
 teen companies, with some marines,' and two fi^ld pieces. This 
 corps arrived very opportunely at Lexington, at the moment when 
 the royal troops entered the town from the other side, pursued with 
 fury by the provincial militia. 
 
 It appears highly probable, that, without this reenforcernent, they 
 would have been all cut to pieces, or made prisoners ; their strength 
 was exhausted, as well as their ammunition. After making a con- 
 siderable halt at Lexington, they renewed their march towards Bos- 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
170 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV. 
 
 ton, the number of the provincials increasing every moment, although 
 the rear guard of the English was less molested, on account of the 
 two field pieces, which repressed the impetuosity of the Americans. 
 But the flanks of the column remained exposed to a very destructive 
 fire, which assailed them from all the points adapted to serve as 
 coverts. The royalists were also annoyed by the heat, which was 
 excessive, and by a violent wind, which blew a thick dust in their 
 eyes. The enemy's marksmen, adding to their natural celerity a 
 perfect knpwledge of the country, came up unexpectedly through 
 cross roads, and galled the English severely, taking aim especially at 
 the officers, who, perceiving it, kept much on their guard. Finally, 
 after a march of incredible fatigue, and a considerable loss of men, 
 the English, overwhelmed with lassitude, arrived at sunset in Charles- 
 town. Independently of the combat they had sustained, the ground 
 they had measured that day was above five and thirty miles. The 
 day following they crossed over to. Boston. 
 
 Such was the affair of Lexington, *>3 first action which opened 
 the civil war. The English soldiers, and especially their officers, 
 were filled with indignation at the fortune of the day ; they could 
 not endure, that an undisciplined multitude, that a flock of Yankees, 
 as they contemptuously named the Americans, should not only have 
 maintained their ground against them, but even forced them to show 
 their backs, and take refuge behind the walls of a city. The pro- 
 vincials, on the contrary, felt their courage immeasurably increased, 
 since they had obtained a proof that these famous troops were not 
 invincible, and had made so fortunate an essay of the goodness of 
 their arms. 
 
 Both parties were at great pains to prove that their adversaries had 
 been the aggressors. The English insisted, that the Americans had 
 fired first from the houses of Lexington, and that tnis provocation 
 had forced the British troops to fire also, and to march thence to 
 Concord. The Americans denied the fact, and affirmed very posi- 
 tively, that major Pitcairn had commanded his detachment to fire, 
 when, on their part, they continued to observe a perfect calm ; and 
 many judicial certificates and solemn depositions were made to this 
 effect. Certain it is, that lieutenant-colonel Smith, was much displeased 
 that his troops had fired ; and it seems probable, that general Gage 
 had given orders not to fire,, except in case of a real attack on the 
 part of the provincials. If it be true, therefore, as there is much 
 reason to believe, that the first firing came from the soldiers of the 
 king, this ought to be imputed rather to -the imprudence of major 
 Pitcairn than to any other order or cause. 
 
 The two parties also reciprocally accused each other, as it usually 
 happens in civil wars, of many and horrible cruelties. The Ame- 
 ricans pretended that the English had burnt and plundered several 
 houses, destroying what they were unable to carry away, and that 
 
HOOK IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 171 
 
 they had even massacred several individuals without defence. The 
 English, on the contrary, affirmed, that several of their comrades, 
 made prisoners by the rebels, had been tortured and put to death 
 with savage barbarity. They even related, a thing horrible to repeat, 
 that one of the wounded English, being left' behind, and endeavor- 
 ing, with great efforts, to rejoin his corps, was assailed by a young 
 American, who ferociously split open his skull with an axe, and forced 
 out the Brains, for his sport. We dare not affirm the truth of this 
 abominable fact ; although we find it related, as not doubtful, by 
 authors worthy of credit ; but we can at least attest the falsehood of 
 a report which had at the time much currency. It was rumored, 
 that the inhabitants of New England, imitating, in their fanatical 
 rage, the barbarity of the savages, their neighbors, had severed the 
 scalp, torn out the eyes, and cut off the ears of many English sol- 
 diers, both wounded and dead. It is pleasing to think, and authori- 
 ties are not wanting to affirm, that these imputations are excessively 
 exaggerated, both on the one part and on the other; and if any 
 excesses were committed in the heat of battle, it is certain that 
 after the action was over, humanity recovered its rights. It is known 
 with perfect assurance, that the wounded, who fell into the hands of 
 the provincial militia, were treated with all the cares and attentions in 
 use among the most civilised nations. The Americans even gave 
 notice to general Gage, that he was at liberty to send surgeons to 
 dress and attend the wounded that were found in their hands. 
 
 This first feat of arms had two results ; the first was to demon- 
 strate how false and ridiculous were the vaunts of those Gascons, 
 who, within parliament as well as without, had spoken in such un- 
 worthy terms of American courage ; from this moment the English 
 nation, and especially its soldiers, persuaded themselves that the 
 struggle would be far more severe and more sanguinary, than had 
 been at first believed. The second effect of this combat was, to 
 increase astonishingly the confidence of the colonists, and their reso- 
 lution to defend their rights. It should be added, also, that the 
 reports of the cruelties committed by the British troops, which, 
 whether true or false, the leaders never failed to propagate and 
 exaggerate, in every place, repeating them with words of extreme 
 vehemence, and painting them in the most vivid colors, had produced 
 an incredible fermentation, and a frantic rage in the minds of the 
 inhabitants. To give, if it were possible, still greater activity to 
 these transports of hatred and fury, the obsequies of the slain were 
 celebrated with every mark of honor, their eulogies were pronounced, 
 they were styled the martyrs of liberty ; their families were the 
 object of universal veneration. They were continually cited as the 
 models to be imitated in the arduous contest which America was 
 forced into, by the injustice and the pride of English supremacy. 
 
172 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IV 
 
 The provincial congress of Massachusetts was then in session at 
 Watertovvn, ten miles distant from Boston. Upon the news of the 
 battle of Lexington, it addressed a long letter to the English people, 
 containing the most circumstantial details of this event; the congress 
 endeavored to prove that the royal troops had been the first to engage 
 battle, by firing upon the peaceable militia ; and by committing at 
 Concord, as well as at Lexington, many excesses, absolutely un- 
 worthy of the British name. They entreated the English nation to 
 interfere, and avert the ulterior calamities which were about to fall 
 upon the colonies and Great Britain ; they declared and protested 
 their loyalty ; at the same time they affirmed it was their firm and 
 irrevocable resolution not to submit to any species of tyranny ; they 
 appealed to heaven for the justice of a cause for which they were 
 prepared to sacrifice their fortunes, and, if necessary, existence 
 itself. 
 
 But, not content with words, and desirous of giving a regular 
 direction to the war, and to the movements of the people, who 
 assembled every where in tumultuary crowds, they assigned a fixed 
 pay to the officers and soldiers ; they made regulations for organising 
 and disciplining the militia. In order to be able to meet the ex- 
 penses, which were rendered necessary by circumstances, the con- 
 gress issued a certain quantity of bills of credit, which were to be 
 received as money, in all payments ; and for the guaranty of which, 
 they pledged the faith of the province. They declared that general 
 Gage, having sent armed soldiers to destroy what existed in the 
 public magazines in the town of Concord, a violence which had 
 occasioned the illegal and barbarous death of a great number of the 
 inhabitants of the province, was no longer entitled to receive any 
 obedience, but ought, on the contrary, to be regarded as an enemy 
 to the country. 
 
 The congress also resolved, that a levy should be made in the 
 province, of thirteen thousand six hundred men, and chose for 
 their general, colonel Ward, an officer of much reputation. This 
 militia was designed to form the contingent of Massachusetts ; 
 the provinces of New Hampshire, Connecticut, and Rhode Island, 
 were invited to furnish theirs, in order to complete an army 
 of thirty thousand men, to be commanded by general John 
 Thomas, an officer of great experience. Connecticut despatched 
 immediately a considerable .corps, under the command of colonel 
 Putnam, an old officer, who, in the two late wars, had often given 
 proof of courage and intelligence. The other provinces were not 
 slow in causing their standards to move, and, in a short time, an 
 army of thirty thousand men was found assembled under the walls 
 of Boston. So great and so universal was the ardor produced among 
 the inhabitants by the battle of Lexington, that the American gene- 
 rals were obliged to send back to their homes many thousand volun- 
 
T 300K IV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 173 
 
 teers. Putnam took his station at Cambridge, and Thomas at 
 Roxbury, upon the right wing of the army, to cut off entirely the 
 communication of the garrison, by the isthmus, with the adjacent 
 country. Thus, a few days after the affair of Lexington, the capital 
 of the province of Massachusetts was closely besieged ; thus, a mul- 
 titude assembled in haste, of men declared rebels, and mean spirited 
 cowards, held in strict confinement, not daring to sally forth even to 
 procure food, many thousands of veteran troops, commanded by an 
 able general, and combating under the royal standard. Such was 
 the situation of troops which had been sent from Europe with the 
 firm expectation that they would only have to show themselves, in 
 order to drive before them all the inhabitants of a country, infinitely 
 more vast and more difficult to traverse than England itself. But, 
 in all times, regular troops have regarded with disdain the militia 
 of an insurgent people ; and often has this militia baffled all the efforts 
 of regular armies. 
 
 END OF BOOK FOURTH, 
 
NOTE TO BOOK IV. 
 
 NOTE I. PAGE 128. 
 NAMES OF MEMBERS COMPOSING THE CONGRESS OF 1774, 
 
 NEW HAMPSHIRE 
 
 JOHN SULLIVAN, 
 NATHANIEL FULSOM. 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 JAMES BOWDOIN, 
 THOMAS GUSHING, 
 SAMUEL ADAMS, 
 JOHN ADAMS, 
 ROBERT T. PAINE. 
 
 RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 STEPHEN HOPKINS, 
 SAMUEL WARD. 
 
 CONNECTICUT. 
 
 ELIPHALET DYER, 
 ROGER SHERMAN, 
 SILAS DEANE. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 JAMES DUANE, 
 HENRY WISNER, 
 JOHN JAY, 
 PHILIP LIVINGSTON, 
 ISAAC Low, 
 JOHN ALSOP, 
 WILLIAM FLOYD. 
 
 NEW JERSEY. 
 
 JAMES KINSEY, 
 WILLIAM LIVINGSTON. 
 JOHN DE HART, 
 STEPHEN CRANE, 
 RICHARD SMITH. 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 JOSEPH GALLOWAY, 
 CHARLES HUMPHREYS, 
 
 SAMUEL RHOADS, 
 GEORGE Ross, 
 JOHN MORTON, 
 THOMAS MIFFLIN, 
 EDWARD BIDDLE, 
 JOHN DICKINSON. 
 
 DELAWARE 
 
 CAESAR RODNEY, 
 THOMAS M'KEAN, 
 GEORGE READ. 
 
 MARYLAND. 
 
 ROBERT GOLDSBOROUGH, 
 THOMAS JOHNSON, 
 WILLIAM PACA, 
 SAMUEL CHASE, 
 MATTHEW TILGHMAN. 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 PEYTON RANDOLPH, 
 RICHARD HENRY LEE, 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 PATRICK HENRY, 
 RICHARD BLAND, 
 BENJAMIN HARRISON, 
 EDMUND PENDLETON. 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 WILLIAM HOOPER, 
 JOSEPH HUGHES, 
 RICHARD CASWELL. 
 
 SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 HENRY MIDDLETON, 
 JOHN RUTLEBGE, 
 THOMAS LYNCH, 
 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEKT, 
 EDWARD RUTLEDGE. 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 175 
 
 BOOK FIFTH. 
 
 1775. BOSTON is situated near the middle of the province of 
 Massachusetts, upon a tract of land, which, connecting with the con- 
 tinent by an extremely narrow tongue, called the neck, afterwards 
 distends sufficiently to comprehend a city of very ample dimensions. 
 The figure of this peninsula is irregular, and forms* alternately, bays 
 and promontories. In one of these bays, facing towards the east, is 
 found the port, which is admirably adapted to receive ships of any 
 burthen, as well of war as of commerce. Towards the north, the 
 land branches into two parts, resembling horns ; one of which, point- 
 ing to the northeast, is called Hudson's Point ; and the other, bearing 
 to the northwest, Barton's Point. In front of these two points, 
 another peninsula is perceived, which, from the name of a considera- 
 ble town there situated, opposite Boston, is called Charlestown, and 
 is joined to the main land by an exceedingly narrow neck, which also 
 bears the name of Charlestown. An arm of the sea, about half a 
 mile in breadth, enters between the points of Hudson, of Barton, 
 and of Charlestown ; and, then expanding, embraces all the western 
 part of the peninsula of Boston. A number of streams empty them- 
 selves into this cove ; the principal of which, are Muddy, Charles, 
 and Mystic, or Medfqrd, rivers. Not far from the isthmus of Boston, 
 the continent stretches into the sea, and forms a long promontory, 
 which extends, on the right, towards the east ; from which results 
 another peninsula, though joined to the main land by a much wider 
 neck than either that of Boston or of Charlestown ; these are kno'wn 
 by the appellations of Dorchester Neck, and Point. The peninsulas 
 of Charlestown, and of Dorchester, are so near to that of Boston, 
 that batteries placed upon either can reach the city with their shot. 
 This can he done with the greater facility, as in both there are many 
 hills, or eminences, peculiarly favorable for the position of artillery. 
 There is one, above the village of Charlestown, called Breed's Hill, 
 which commands the city of Boston ; and another, behind it, towards 
 Charlestown Neck, and consequently further from Boston, which 
 bears the name of Bunker's Hill. In like manner upon the penin- 
 sula of Dorchester are heights, which have the same name ; and 
 another, called Nook's Hill, which crowns the spur of land towards 
 Boston. The inlet of the sea, through which the port is approached, 
 is sprinkled with little islands ; the most considerable of which are 
 Noddle's, Thompson's, Governor's, Long Island, and Castle Island. 
 West of Boston upon the river Charles, is situated the extensive 
 village of Cambridge ; and to the south, at the entrance of the Neck* 
 that of Roxburv, 
 
176 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 The American army had rested its left wing upon the river of 
 Medford, and thus intercepted the communication of Charlestovvn 
 Neck ; the centre occupied Cambridge ; and the right wing, posted 
 at Roxbury, repressed the garrison on the part of the isthmus, which, 
 being fortified, might have facilitated their sallies and excursions into 
 the country. 
 
 In this situation, respectively, the two armies were found ; but the 
 number and quality of the combatants, their opinions, their military 
 science, their arms, ammunition and provisions, created a great 
 difference in their* condition. The Americans were much superior 
 in number ; but this number was subject to continual variations ; for 
 that severe discipline, without which neither order nor stability can 
 exist in armies, not being as yet introduced among them, the soldiers 
 joined or quitted their colors, as best suited their inclinations ; and 
 fresh bands of volunteers were daily arriving, to take the place of those 
 who had left the camp. They had every kind of food in great abun- 
 dance, and especially vegetables, so necessary to the health of troops. 
 But their arms were far from being sufficient. They had, in all, but 
 sixteen field pieces, six of which, at the very utmost, were in a con- 
 dition for service. Their brass pieces, which were few, were of the 
 smallest caliber. They had, however, some heavy iron cannon, with 
 three or four mortars and howitzers, and some scanty provision of 
 balls and bombs. But of powder they were almost totally destitute ; 
 for, upon visiting the magazines, only eighty-two half barrels of it 
 were found. A certain quantity, it is true, might have been pro- 
 cured in the neighboring provinces ; but this feeble resource would 
 soon be exhausted. Muskets were in abundance ; but they were all 
 of different caliber, each having brought his own. They were ad- 
 mirably skilled in the use of this weapon, and therefore well adapted 
 for the service of light troops and skirmishing parties ; but in regular 
 battle, they would have made but an indifferent figure. They had 
 no uniforms, and no magazines stocked with provisions ; they lived, 
 from day to day, without taking thought for the morrow; but, in 
 these first moments, the zeal of the neighboring country people suf- 
 fered them to want for nothing. They had no coined money, or very 
 little ; but they had bills of credit, which, at this epoch, were current 
 at equal value with gold. The officers wanted due instruction, 
 excepting those few who had served in the preceding wars. They 
 were not even known by their soldiers ; for, the organisation of the 
 several corps not being yet completed, the changes in them were 
 continual. Orders were ill executed ; every one wished to com- 
 mand, and do according to his own fancy 5 few deigned to obey. 
 Upon the whole, with the exception of some few regiments, which 
 had been trained in certain provinces by experienced chiefs, the resi- 
 due had more the appearance of a tumultuary assemblage, than of a 
 regular army. But all these defects were compensated, by the deter- 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 177 
 
 mined spirit of their minds ; by the zeal of party ; the profound 
 persuasion, in all, of the justice of their cause ; the exhortations of 
 their chiefs, and of the ministers of religion, who neglected no means 
 of daily exciting this people, already of themselves inclined to the 
 enthusiasm of religious ideas, to signalise their firmness and valor in 
 an enterprise pleasing in the sight of heaven and all the good of the 
 human race. 
 
 With these feeble preparations, but with this extraordinary ardor, 
 the Americans commenced a war, which every thing announced must 
 prove long, arduous and sanguinary. It was, however, easy to fore- 
 see, that, whatever reverses they might have to encounter in the 
 outset, an unshaken constancy must render them eventually trium- 
 phant ; for, by preserving all their courage, and acquiring discipline 
 and the science of war, their soldiers could not fail to become equal, 
 in all respects, to any that could be opposed to them. 
 
 As to the British troops, they were abundantly provided with all 
 things necessary to enter the field ; their arsenals were glutted with 
 artillery of various caliber, excellent muskets, powder, and arms of 
 every denomination. Their soldiers were all perfectly exercised, 
 accustomed to fatigues and dangers ; they had long been taught the 
 difficult art, so essential in war to obey. Their minds were full of 
 the recollection of the achievements, by which they had distinguished 
 themselves at various times, in the service of their country, while 
 combating against the most warlike nations of the world. A parti- 
 cular motive added still greatly to the martial resolution of this army 
 the reflection that they were to combat under the royal standard, 
 which is usually a powerful incentive to military honor. The English, 
 moreover, considered the enemies they were about to encounter, in 
 the light of rebels ; a name that inflamed them with an animosity 
 more intense than simple courage. They panted to avenge them- 
 selves for the affront of Lexington ; they could by no means admit 
 that these Americans were able to resist them ; they persisted in 
 viewing them as cowards, who were indebted for their success at 
 Lexington, exclusively to their numbers, and the advantage of ground. 
 They were persuaded that, in the first serious action, in the first 
 regular battle, the colonists would not dare to wait their approach. 
 But, until the arrival of the reenforcements expected from England, 
 prudence exacted a circumspect conduct towards the Americans, 
 whose forces were more than threefold in number. Meanwhile, so 
 strict was the siege, no provisions being permitted to enter the city 
 from the neighboring towns, that fresh meat and all kinds of vege- 
 tables, began to become excessively scarce ; and, although the sea 
 was open to the English, and they had a great number of light vessels 
 at their disposal, they could procure no supplies from the coasts of 
 New England ; the inhabitants having driven their cattle into the 
 interior of the country. As to the other provinces, they could obtain 
 VOL. i. 23 
 
178 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 nothing from them by their consent ; and they could not employ force, 
 because they were not yet declared rebels. The scarcity became 
 therefore extreme at Boston. The garrison, as well as the inhabit- 
 ants, were reduced to salt provisions. The English, therefore, were 
 impatient for the arrival of reenforcements from England, in order to 
 make some vigorous effort to extricate themselves from this difficult 
 situation. 
 
 The besieging army, aware that the inhabitants of Boston had no 
 other resource but from the magazines of the king, exercised the 
 greater vigilance to intercept all supplies from the adjacent country ; 
 hoping that the exhaustion of these stores would at length induce the 
 governor to consent that the inhabitants, or at least the women and 
 children, as superfluous mouths, might leave the^city. This the pro- 
 vincials had several times requested, very earnestly ; but the governor, 
 notwithstanding the embarrassment he experienced in providing suste- 
 nance for the troops, appeared little disposed to listen to the proposi- 
 tion. He considered the inhabitants as so many hostages for the 
 safety of the city and garrison ; being apprehensive the Americans 
 might attempt to carry the place by assault ; of which, however, 
 there was not the least danger, although they had purposely circulated 
 such a rumor. Their generals were too considerate not to perceive 
 how fatal an impression of discouragement must have been made on 
 the public mind, by the miscarriage of so important a stroke, at the 
 very commencement of the war ; and the probabilities in favor of 
 this assault, were not great, as the fortifications of the Neck were 
 extremely formidable ; and, on the other hand, there could have been 
 little hope of success, so long as the English had command of the 
 sea, and the movements of a numerous fleet. But, finally, general 
 Gage, urged by necessity, and wishing also to withdraw arms from 
 the hands of the citizens, on whose account he was not without 
 apprehensions, after a long conference with the council of the city, 
 acceded to an arrangement, by which it was stipulated, that all citi- 
 zens, on giving up their arms, and depositing them in Faneuil Hall, 
 or some other public place, should be at liberty to retire wherever 
 they might think proper, with all their effects ; it was, however, under- 
 stood, that their arms should, in due time, be restored them. It was 
 also agreed, that thirty carts should be permitted to enter Boston, to 
 take away the moveables of the emigrants ; and that the admiralty 
 should furnish the transports requisite for the same purpose. This 
 compact was at first faithfully observed by the two parties; the 
 inhabitants deposited their arms, and the general delivered them pass- 
 ports. But soon after, either unwilling to deprive himself entirely of 
 hostages, or apprehensive, as it had been rumored, that the insurgents 
 meditated the design of setting fire to the city, so soon as their parti- 
 sans should have evacuated it, he pretended that individuals who had 
 gone out to look after the affairs of persons attached to the royal 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 179 
 
 cause, had been ill treated ; and began to refuse passes. Tin's refusal 
 excited violent complaints, both among the Bostonians and the pro- 
 vincials stationed without. The governor, however, persisted in his 
 resolution. If he afterwards permitted some few citizens to depart, 
 it was only uport condition that they should leave their furniture and 
 effects ; which subjected them to no little detriment and inconve- 
 nience. Many of them, who were accustomed to live in a style of 
 great elegance found themselves reduced, by this extraordinary rigor, 
 to an absolute destitution of things of the first necessity. It was also 
 said, and with too much appearance of probability, that, from a certain 
 cruelty, which no motive can excuse, in granting passports, he studied 
 to divide families, separating wives from husbands, fathers from 
 children, brothers from each other 5 some obtained permission to 
 depart others were forced to remain. 
 
 The poor and sick might all retreat, without opposition ; but their 
 departure was accompanied with a circumstance, which, if it was 
 not the effect of a barbarous intention, ought at least to have been 
 prevented whh the most sedulous care ; among the sick, those 
 were suffered to pass who were attacked with the smallpox, a very 
 mortal disease in America, where it excites the same horror as the 
 plague itself in Europe and in Asia. The contagion spread rapidly, 
 and made frightful ravages among the provincials. 
 
 While these things were passing within and about Boston, the other 
 provinces were making their preparations for war with extreme ac- 
 tivity. The city of New York itself, in which the English had more 
 friends than in any other on the continent, and which hitherto had 
 manifested so much reserve, at the first news of the battle of Lexington, 
 was seized with a violent emotion, and resolved to make common 
 cause with the other colonies. The inhabitants adopted the resolu- 
 tions of the general congress, with the determination to persist in 
 them until the entire reestablishment of constitutional laws. They 
 drew up an energetic address to the common council of the city of 
 London, which had shown itself favorable to the cause of the colo- 
 nies; they declared, that all the calamities in the train of civil war, 
 could not constrain the Americans to bend to the will of Great Bri- 
 tain ; and that such was the universal sentiment, from Nova Scotia to 
 Georgia ; they conjured the city of London to exert all its endeavors 
 to restore peace between the two parts of the empire ; but as to 
 themselves, they protested their determination never to endure minis- 
 terial tyranny. 
 
 The inhabitants were all indefatigable in training themselves to the 
 use of arms ; the patriots, to resist England j and the partisans of 
 the government, forming no inconsiderable number, either because 
 they thought it prudent to. go with the current, or to prevent disorders, 
 or to be prepared, with arms in their hands, to declare themselves 
 upon the first occasion. But as the city of New York is entirely 
 
180 THE AMER[CAN WAR. BOOK V- 
 
 exposed towards the sea, and as the inhabitants could have no hope 
 of defending it against the attack of an English fleet, they resolved 
 to risk nothing by delay, and to seize the arms and ammunition de- 
 posited in the royal magazines. The women and children were 
 removed from the seat of danger ; which done, they prepared to 
 defend themselves ; and, in case they should have lost ail hope of 
 resisting the forces of the enemy, it was resolved, horrible as it seems, 
 though but too common in civil wars, to fire the city. 
 
 In South Carolina, it was hoped, universally, that perseverance in 
 the resolutions taken against British commerce, would suffice to dis- 
 pose the government to embrace milder councils. But the intelli- 
 gence of the rigorous acts of parliament was received there the very 
 day on which was fought the battle of Lexington, the tidings of which 
 arrived a few days after. The inhabitants were struck with surprise, 
 and even with terror ; well knowing to what dangers they exposed 
 themselves, in undertaking to wage war with Great Britain ; as her 
 formidable squadrons could reach them at all the points of a coast 
 two hundred miles in length, and as they found themselves almost 
 totally destitute of arms or munitions of war ; without means to equip 
 their soldiers, without ships, without money, without officers of expe- 
 rience, or skilled in tactics. They were even not without serious 
 apprehensions relative to the negro slaves, formidably numerous in 
 this province. They were accessible to seduction, by gifts and pro- 
 mises ; and might be instigated to massacre their masters, at the mo- 
 ment of their most unsuspecting security. The province itself had 
 not been comprehended in the parliamentary proscription ; and could 
 not, therefore, without manifest treason, spontaneously take part in 
 rebellion and open war. At length, however, the resolutions inspired 
 by courage, prevailed ; and such measures were taken as were deem- 
 ed best suited to the occasion. On the night subsequent to the 
 advice of the hostilities at Lexington, the inhabitants rushed to the 
 arsenal, and seized all the arms and ammunition it contained, and 
 distributed them among the soldiers in the pay of the province. A 
 provincial congress was convoked; a league was contracted by the 
 delegates, purporting, that the Carolinians considered themselves 
 united, by all the ties of honor and religion, for the defence of their 
 country against all enemies whatsoever ; that they were ready to 
 march, whenever and wherever the congress, whether general or pro- 
 vincial, should judge necessary ; that they would sacrifice their for- 
 tunes and their lives to maintain the public liberty and safety ; that 
 they would hold for enemies all those who should refuse to subscribe 
 the league ; which was to be in force, until a reconciliation was effect- 
 ed between Great Britain and America, conformably to the princi- 
 ples of the constitution. It was afterwards determined to raise two 
 regiments of infantry, and one of cavalry, called rangers. Such was 
 the general ardor/that more officers presented themselves than were 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 181 
 
 wanted ; the greater part from among the wealthiest and most re- 
 spectable families of the country. At the same time, an emission 
 was made of bills of credit, which, at this epoch, were received by 
 all the citizens, with the greatest promptitude. 
 
 In New Jersey, at the news of the affair at Lexington, the people 
 took possession of the provincial treasure ; and a part of it was 
 destined to pay the troops which were levied at the same time in the 
 province. 
 
 At Baltimore, in Maryland, the inhabitants laid a strong hand upon 
 all the military stores that were found in the public magazines ; and, 
 among other arms, fifteen hundred muskets thus fell into their power. 
 A decree was published, interdicting all transportation of commodi- 
 ties to the islands where fisheries were carried on, as also to the 
 British army and fleet stationed at Boston. 
 
 The inhabitants of Philadelphia took the same resolution, and ap- 
 peared, in all respects, equally disposed to defend the common cause. 
 The Quakers themselves, notwithstanding their pacific institutions, 
 could not forbear to participate in the ardor with which their fellow- 
 citizens flew to meet a new order of things. 
 
 When Virginia, this important colony, and particularly opposed to 
 the pretensions of England, received the intelligence of the first hos- 
 tilities, it was found in a state of extreme commotion, excited by a 
 cause, which, though trivial in itself, in the present conjuncture be- 
 came of serious importance. The provincial congress, convened in 
 the month of March, had recommended a levy of volunteers in each 
 county, for the better defence of the country. The governor, lord 
 Dunmore, at the name of volunteers, became highly indignant ; and 
 conceived suspicions of some pernicious design. Apprehending the 
 inhabitants intended to take possession of a public magazine, in the 
 city of Williamsburgh, he caused all the powder it contained to be 
 removed, by night, and conveyed on board an armed vessel, at 
 anchor in the river James. The following morning, the citizens, on 
 being apprised of the fact, were violently exasperated ; they flew to 
 arms, assembled in great numbers, and demonstrated a full determi- 
 nation to obtain restitution of the powder, either by fair means or 
 force. A serious affair was apprehended ; but the municipal coun- 
 cil interposed, and, repressing the tumult, despatched a written 
 request to the governor, entreating him to comply with the public 
 desire. They complained, with energy, of the injury received ; and 
 represented the dangers to which they should be exposed, in case of 
 insurrection on the part of the blacks, whose dispositions, from vari- 
 ous recent reports, they had too much reason to distrust. The 
 governor answered, that the powder had been removed, because he 
 had heard of an insurrection in a neighboring county ; that he had 
 removed it in the night time to prevent any alarm ; that he was much 
 surprised to hear the people were under arms ; add that he should 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 not think it prudent to put powder into their hands in such a situa- 
 tion. He assured them, however, that in case of a revolt of the 
 negroes, it should be returned immediately. Tranquillity was re- 
 established ; but, in the evening, an alarm was given, that the soldiers 
 of the ship of war were approaching the city in arms, the people again 
 also took up theirs, and passed the whole night in expectation of an 
 attack. 
 
 The governor, not knowing, or unwilling to yield to the temper of 
 the times, manifested an extreme irritation at these popular move- 
 ments. He suffered certain menaces to fall from his lips, which it 
 would have been far more prudent to suppress. He intimated, that 
 the royal standard would be erected ; the blacks emancipated, and 
 armed against their masters ; a thing no less imprudent than barbar- 
 ous, and contrary to every species of civilisation ; finally, he threat- 
 ened the destruction of the city, and to vindicate, in every mode, 
 his own honor, and that of the crown. These threats excited a 
 general fermentation throughout the colony, and even produced an 
 absolute abhorrence towards the government. Thus, incidents of 
 slight importance, assisted by the harsh and haughty humors of the 
 agents of England and America, contributed to accelerate the course 
 of things towards that crisis, to which they tended already, but too 
 strongly, of themselves. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the popular meetings that assembled in all the 
 counties of the province, the seizure of the powder, and the menaces 
 of the governor, were condemned with asperity. But, in the coun- 
 ty of Hanover, and the country adjacent, the inhabitants were not 
 content with words. They took arms ; and, under the command of 
 Henry, one of the delegates to the general congress, marched 
 against the city of Wilmington, with the design, as they declared 
 openly, not only of obtaining restitution of the powder, but also of 
 securing the public treasure against the attempts of the governor. 
 An hundred and fifty of the most enterprising were already in the 
 suburbs of the city, when a parley was opened, which concluded in 
 an accommodation, and tranquillity was restored ; but it was evi- 
 dent, that the public mind was too much inflamed to admit of its 
 long continuance. The people of the country, however, returned 
 peaceably to their habitations. 
 
 The governor fortified his palace to the utmost of his power ; he 
 placed a garrison of marines within, and surrounded it with artillery. 
 He issued a proclamation, by which Henry and his followers were 
 declared rebels. Finally, with an imprudence of conduct unworthy 
 of a magistrate, who ought never, in the exercise of his functions, to 
 suffer himself to be transported with anger, in acrimonious terms, he 
 attributed the present commotions to the disaffection of the people, 
 and their desire to excite a general revolt. These imputations 
 served only to imbitter hatred, and cut off all hope of a bettt?i % 
 futurity. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 1 80 
 
 In the midst of these divisions between the people of Virginia, 
 and the governor, an incident happened, which still added to their 
 violence. 
 
 In like manner as doctor Franklin had procured the letters of 
 Hutchinson, some other person had found means to convey from the 
 office of state, the official correspondence of lord Dun more ; which 
 was transmitted to the Virginian chiefs. Immediately upon its pub- 
 lication, a cry of indignation arose against the governor, for having 
 written things false, and injurious to the province. Thus all re-, 
 ciprocal confidence was destroyed ; the slightest casualty became a 
 serious event, and mutual enmity more and more imbittered the 
 inevitable effects of this misunderstanding. 
 
 During these disputes, which, apart from the irritation they sup- 
 ported against the government, could have no considerable influence, 
 of themselves, upon public affairs, the inhabitants of Connecticut 
 attempted an important enterprise. 
 
 The road which leads from the English colonies to Canada, is- 
 traced almost entirely along the rivers and lakes, which are found 
 between these two countries, and in the direction of south to north. 
 Those who undertake this excursion, begin by ascending the river 
 Hudson, up to fort Edward, whence, keeping to the right, they 
 arrive at Skeenesborough, a fort situated near the sources of Wood 
 creek ; or, bearing to the left, they come to fort George, erected at 
 the southern extremity of the lake of that name. Both the former 
 and the latter afterwards embark, the first upon Wood creek, the 
 second upon lake George, and are landed at Ticonderoga ; at which 
 point, the two lakes unite to form lake Champlain, so called from 
 the name of a French governor, who drowned himself there. By 
 the lake, and thence by the river Soral, which flows out of it, they 
 descend into the great river St. Lawrence, which passes to Quebec. 
 Ticonderoga is then situated near the confluence of these waters, 
 between lake George and lake Champlain. It is therefore a place 
 of the highest importance, as standing upon the frontier, and at the 
 very entrance of Canada ; whoever occupies it can intercept all 
 communication between this province and the colonies. Accord- 
 ingly, the French had fortified it with such diligence, that the Eng- 
 lish, in the preceding war, were unable to carry it without extraor- 
 dinary efforts, and great effusion of blood on both sides. 
 
 The chiefs of this expedition, colonels Easton and Allen, consi- 
 dered how essential it was to seize this key of Canada, before the 
 English should have thrown into the place a sufficient garrison for 
 its defence ; for, in the profound peace which prevailed at that time, 
 without apprehension of war either abroad or at home, the governors 
 of Canada had made no preparations at Ticonderoga ; and it was 
 left to the charge of a feeble detachment. It was evident, that if 
 the British government resolved to prosecute war against its colo- 
 
184 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 nies, it would send troops into Canada with a view of attacking the 
 Americans in the rear, by the way of Ticonderoga. It was known, 
 besides, that this fortress, and that of Crown Point, situated a little 
 below it, upon the same lake, Champlain, were furnished with a 
 very numerous artillery, of which the Americans stood in the greatest 
 need. Finally, it was thought of no little importance, in these first 
 movements, to strike some capital blow, in order to stimulate the 
 ardor of the insurgent people. Accordingly, this enterprise, having 
 been maturely considered in the plan, and directed with great 
 prudence in the execution, had the result which might have been 
 expected. 
 
 It was deemed an essential point, to attack the enemy by surprise ; 
 they resolved, therefore, to proceed with profound secrecy ; for, if 
 the commanders of Ticonderoga and of Crown Point had any sus- 
 picion of the project, they could draw reenforcements from the 
 neighboring fortress of St. John. The general Congress itself, then 
 in session at Philadelphia, had no intimation of their design ; its 
 authors being apprehensive, lest, in so great a number of members, 
 there might be found some individual deficient in discretion. 
 
 To defray the expenses of the enterprise, the assembly of Con- 
 necticut appropriated the sum of eighteen hundred dollars. Powder, 
 bullets, and all the utensils requisite for a siege, were secretly pro- 
 vided. The troops were promptly assembled at Castletown, a place 
 situated upon the banks of Wood creek, and the great road to Ticonde- 
 roga. The greater part were inhabitants of the Green Mountains, and 
 thence, in their own style, they were called Green Mountain Boys ; 
 a race of men accustomed to fatigue and danger. Among the supe- 
 rior officers, besides Allen and Easton, were colonels Brown and 
 Warner, and captain Dickinson. They were joined at Castletown by 
 colonel Arnold, who came from the army of Boston. Possessed by 
 nature of an extraordinary force of genius, a restless character, and an 
 intrepidity bordering upon prodigy, this officer had of himself con- 
 ceived the same plan ; so manifest was the utility of the enterprise, 
 and so bold the spirit of these American chiefs. Arnold had con- 
 ferred, to this end, with the committee of safety of Massachusetts, 
 who had appointed him colonel, with authority to levy soldiers, in 
 order to attempt the capture of Ticonderoga ; in pursuance whereof, 
 he arrived at Castletown ; and his surprise was extreme, at finding 
 himself anticipated. But, as he was not a man to be baffled by 
 trifles, and as nothing could delight him more than the occasion for 
 combat, he concerted with the other leaders, and consented, however 
 hard he must have thought the sacrifice, to put himself under the 
 command of colonel Allen. 
 
 They posted sentinels upon all the roads, to prevent the least 
 rumor of their approach from reaching the menaced point ; and they 
 arrived, in the night, upon the bank of lake Champlain, opposite 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAK. 185 
 
 Ticonderoga. The chief hope of success depending on despatch, 
 Allen and Arnold rapidly surmounted the difficulties of crossing ; 
 and landed upon the other bank, in the environs of the fortress. 
 They continued their march, and at day-break, entering by the co- 
 vered way, arrived upon the esplanade ; here they raised the shouts 
 of victory, and made a deafening, uproar. The soldiers of the gar- 
 rison roused from sleep at this tumult, and soon commenced firing. 
 A hot scuffle ensued, with gun-breeches and bayonets. The com- 
 mander of the fort at length appeared ; colonel Easton having 
 informed him that he was prisoner of America, he was much con- 
 fused, and repeated, several times, * What does this meanT The 
 English threw down arms, and all was surrendered to the victors. 
 
 They found, at Ticonderoga, about one hundred and twenty 
 pieces of twenty-four pound brass cannon, several howitzers and 
 mortars, balls, bombs, and ammunition of every denomination. The 
 detachment that was left upon the other bank, having rejoined the 
 first, a party was sent against Crown Point, where the garrison con- 
 sisted of only a few soldiers. This expedition succeeded without 
 difficulty ; more than an hundred pieces of artillery were found in 
 the fort. 
 
 But the plan of the Americans would not have been completely 
 accomplished, except they secured to themselves the exclusive con- 
 trol of the lake ; which they could not hope to obtain, however, 
 without seizing a corvette of war, which the English kept at anchor 
 near fort St. John. They resolved, therefore, to arm a vessel of the 
 species they call schooners, the command of which was to be given 
 to Arnold ; while Allen should bring on his men upon the flat boats 
 employed in the navigation of these lakes. The wind blowing fresh 
 from the south, the vessel of Arnold left the boats far in the rear. 
 He came unexpectedly alongside of the corvette, the captain of 
 which was far from suspecting the clanger that menaced him, and 
 took possession of it without resistance ; and, as if heaven was pleas- 
 ed to distinguish with evident tokens of its favor these first achieve- 
 ments of the Americans, the wind suddenly changed from south to 
 north, so that, in less than an hour's time, colonel Arnold returned, 
 sound and safe, with his prize, to Ticonderoga. 
 
 Things passed no less propitiously for the Americans at Skeenes- 
 borough. This fortress fell into their hands, with its garrison ; and 
 thus placed at their disposal a great quantity gf light artillery. Co- 
 lonel Allen put sufficient garrisons in the conquered fortresses, and 
 deputed Arnold to command them in chief. As to himself, he re- 
 turned directly to Connecticut. 
 
 Such was the fortunate issue of the expedition of the Americans 
 
 upon their northern frontiers. It was no doubt of high importance ; 
 
 but it would have had a much greater influence upon the course ot' 
 
 the whole war, if these fortresses, which are the shield and bulwark 
 
 VOL. i. 24 
 
186 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 of the colonies, bad been defended, in times following, witb the same 
 prudence and valor with which they had been acquired. 
 
 But about Boston, the course of events was far less rapid. The 
 Americans exerted their utmost industry, to intercept from the 
 English all supplies of provisions ; and they, all their endeavors to 
 procure them. This gave occasion to frequent skirmishes between 
 the detachments of the two armies. One of the most severe took 
 place about Noddle's and Hog Island, both situated in the harbor of 
 Boston, northeast of the city ; the first opposite Winnesimick, and 
 the second in front of Chelsea, and very near it. These two islands, 
 abounding in forage and cattle, were a great resource for the 
 English, who went there often in quest of provisions. This the 
 provincials resolved to put a stop to, by removing the cattle, and 
 destroying all the provender they could find. They carried their 
 purpose into effect ; not, however, without a vigorous opposition on 
 the part of the royalis.ts. The provincials landed a second time 
 upon Noddle's Island, and took off a great number of cattle, of 
 various denominations. . They effected the same purpose, a few 
 days after, in Pettick's and Deer Island. In all these actions, they 
 demonstrated the most intrepid courage, and acquired greater confi- 
 dence in themselves. The garrison of Boston, already suffering 
 greatly from the scarcity of food, experienced, from these operations, 
 a prejudice difficult to describe. 
 
 These feats were the prelude to an action of far greater moment, 
 which followed a few days after. The succours expected from 
 England, had arrived at Boston ; which, with the garrison, formed 
 an army of from ten to twelve thousand men ; all excellent troops. 
 Three distinguished generals, Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne, were 
 at the head of these reenforcements. Great events were looked for 
 on both sides. The English were inflamed with desire to wash out 
 the stain of Lexington ; they could not endure the idea that the 
 Americans had seen them fly ; it galled them to think, that the 
 soldiers of the British king, renowned for their brilliant exploits, 
 were now closely imprisoned within the walls of a city. They were 
 desirous, at any price, of proving that their superiority over the 
 herds of American militia, was not a vain chimera. Above all, they 
 ardently aspired to terminate, by some decisive stroke, this ignomi- 
 nious war ; and thus satisfy, at once, their own glory, the expecta- 
 tions of their country, the orders, the desires, and the promises of 
 the ministers. But victory was exacted of them still more impe- 
 riously by the scarcity of food, which every day became more 
 alarming ; for, if they must sacrifice their lives, they chose rather to 
 perish by the sword than by famine. The Americans, on their part, 
 were not less eager for the hour of combat to arrive ; their preceding 
 successes had stimulated their courage, and promised them new 
 triumphs. 
 
 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 187 
 
 In this state of things, the English generals deliberated maturely 
 upon the most expedient mode of extricating themselves from this 
 difficult position, and placing themselves more at large in the country. 
 Two ways were suggested of issuing from the city ; one, to sally out 
 from the Neck, and attack the American intrenchments at Roxbury ; 
 and, having forced them, to scour the country on the part of the 
 county of Suffolk ; the other was, to pass the ferry of Charlestown, 
 traverse the peninsula of this name, issue by the isthmus, and dis- 
 lodge the enemy, who occupied the heights between Willis creek 
 and Mystic river ; and then dilate in the direction of Worcester. 
 
 General Gage had for some time been decided to attempt the 
 first of these alternatives. He calculated, that in case of a repulse, 
 the fortifications of Boston Neck would secure his retreat. The 
 Americans, having been apprised of it, on the very day appointed 
 for the attack, stood much upon their guard. Whether from this 
 motive, or some other more probable, the English general altered 
 his resolution, and neither marched out on that day nor the follow- 
 ing. The provincials took advantage of the delay, and strengthened 
 their intrenchments with parapets and palisades. They also concen- 
 trated their artillery, and reenforced this part of the army with all 
 the militia of the adjacent country. All these dispositions were 
 made with so much intelligence, that the English could no longer 
 attempt an attack upon this quarter, without exposing themselves to 
 manifest peril. Accordingly, they abandoned all thoughts of it, and 
 directed their views towards the peninsula and Neck of Charlestown. 
 The American generals had immediate notice of it ; and resolved to 
 exert their most strenuous endeavors to defeat this new project of 
 the enemy. Nothing was better suited to such a purpose, than to 
 fortify diligently the heights of Bunker's Hill, which commanded the 
 entrance and the issue of the peninsula of Charlestown. Orders 
 were therefore given to colonel William Prescott, to occupy them 
 with a detachment of a thousand men, and to intrench himself there 
 by the rules of art. But here an error was committed, which 
 placed the garrison of Boston in very imminent danger, and re- 
 duced the two parties to the necessity of corning to action imme- 
 diately. WJiether he was deceived by the resemblance of name, or 
 from some other motive unknown, colonel Prescott, instead of 
 repairing to the heights of Bunker's Hill, to fortify himself there, 
 advanced further on in the peninsula, and immediately commenced 
 his intrenchments upon the heights of Breeo*s Hill, another emi- 
 nence, which overlooks Charlestown, and is situated towards the 
 extremity of the peninsula, nearer to Boston. The worjfs were 
 pushed with so much ardor, that the following morning, by*day-break, 
 the Americans had already constructed a square redoubt, capable of 
 affording them some shelter from the enemy's fire. The i$bor had 
 been conducted with such silence, that the English had no suspicion 
 
188 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK T. 
 
 of what was passing. It was about four in the morning, when the 
 captain of a ship of war first perceived it, and began to play his 
 artillery. The report of the cannon attracted a multitude of specta- 
 tors to the shore. 
 
 The English generals doubted the testimony of their senses. 
 Meanwhile, the thing appeared too important not to endeavor to ; 
 to dislodge the provincials, or at least to . prevent them from 
 completing the fortifications commenced ; for, as, the height of 
 Breed's Hill absolutely commands Boston, the city was no longer 
 tenable, if the Americans, erected a battery upon this eminence. 
 The English therefore opened a general fire of the artillery of the 
 city, of the fleet, -arid of the floating batteries stationed around the 
 peninsula of Boston. It hailed a tempest of bombs and balls upon 
 the works af the Americans ; they were especially incommoded by 
 the fire of a battery planted upon an eminence named Cop's Hill* 
 which, situated within the city, forms a species of tower, in front of 
 Breed's Hill. But all this was without effect. The Americans 
 Continued to work the whole day, with unshaken constancy ; and> 
 towards night, they had already much advanced a trench, which 
 Descended from the redoubt to the foot of the hill, and almost to the 
 bank of Mystic river. The fury of the enemy's artillery, it is true, 
 had prevented .tlie.pi from carrying it to perfection. 
 
 In this conjuncture, there remained no other hope for the English 
 generals, but in attempting an assault, to drive the Americans, by- 
 dint of force, from this formidable position. This resolution was 
 taken without hesitation ; and it was followed, the 17th of June, by 
 the action of Breed's Hill, known also by the name of Bunker's 
 Hill ; much renowned for the intrepidity, not to say the temerity, of 
 the two parties ; for the number of the dead and wounded ; and for 
 the effect it produced upon the opinions of men, in regard to the 
 valor of the Americans, and the probable issue of the whole war. 
 
 The right wing of the Americans was flanked by the houses of 
 Charlestown, which they occupied ; and the part of this wing which 
 connected with the main body, was defended by the redoubt erected 
 upon the heights of Breed's Hill. The centre, and the left wing* 
 formed themselves behind the trench, which, following the declivity 
 of the hill, extended towards, but without reaching, Mystic river. 
 The American officers having reflected that the most feeble part of 
 their defensive was precisely this extremity of the left wing, for the 
 trench not extending to the river, and the. land in this place being 
 smooth and easy, there was danger of being turned, and attacked in 
 the rear, they determined, therefore, to obstruct this passage by two 
 parallel palisades, and to fill up with herbage the interval between 
 the one and the other. The troops of Massachusetts occupied 
 Charlestown, the redoubt, and a part of the trench ; those of Con* 
 necticut, commanded by captain Nolten, and those of New Hamp- 
 
BOOK Y> THE AMERICAN WAR. 189 
 
 shire, under colonel Starke, the rest of the trench. A.'fe.vv moments 
 before the action commenced, doctor Warren, who had been ap- 
 pointed general, a personage of great authority, and a. zealous patriot, 
 arrived with some reenforcements. General Pomeroy made his 
 appearance, at the same time. The first joined the troops of his 
 own province, of Massachusetts ; the second took command of those 
 from Connecticut. General Putnam directed in chief; and held 
 himself ready to repair. to any point, where his presence should be 
 most wanted. The Americans had no cavalry ; that which was 
 expected from the southern provinces was not yet arrived. The 
 artillery, without being very numerous, was nevertheless competent. 
 They wanted not for muskets; but the greater part were without 
 bayonets. Their sharp shooters, for want of rifles, were obliged to 
 use common firelocks ; but as marksmen they had no equals. Such 
 were the means of the Americans ; but their hope was great ; and 
 they were all impatient for the signal of combat. 
 
 Between mid-day and one o'clock, the heat being intense, all was 
 in motion in the British camp. A multitude of sloops and boats, 
 filled with soldiers, left the shore of Boston, and stood for Charles- 
 town ; they landed at Moreton's Point, without meeting resistance ; 
 as the ships of. war and armed vessels effectually protected the 
 debarkation with the fire of their artillery, which forced the enemy 
 to keep within his intrenchments. This corps consisted of ten com- 
 panies of grenadiers, as many of light infantry, and a proportionate 
 artillery ; the whole under the command of major-general Howe, 
 and brigadier-general Pigot. The troops, on landing, began to 
 display, the light infantry upon the right, the grenadiers upon the 
 left ; but, having observed the strength of the position, and the good 
 countenance of the Americans, general Howe made a halt, and sent 
 to call a reenforcement. 
 
 The English formed themselves in two columns. Their plan was. 
 that the left wing, under general Pigot, should attack the rebels in 
 Charlestown ; while the centre assaulted the redoubt ; and the right 
 wing, consisting of light infantry should force the passage near the 
 river Mystic, and thus assail the Americans in flank and rear ; which 
 would have given the English a complete victory. It appears, also, 
 that general Gage had formed the design of setting fire to Charles- 
 town, when evacuated by the enemy, in order that the corps destined 
 to assail the redoubt, thus protected by the flame and smoke, might 
 be less exposed to the fire of the provincials. 
 
 The dispositions having all been completed, the English put them- 
 selves in motion. The provincials that were .stationed to defend 
 Charlestown, fearing lest the assailants should penetrate between 
 this town and the redoubt ; and thus to find themselves cut off from 
 the rest of the army, retreated. The English immediately entered 
 the lawn, and fired the buildings ; as they were of wood, in a mo- 
 ment the combustion became general. 
 
190 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V- 
 
 They continued a slow march against the redoubt and trench ; 
 halting, from time to time, for the artillery to come up, and act with 
 some effect, previous to the assault. The flames and smoke of 
 Charlestown were of no use to them, as the wind turned them in a 
 contrary direction. Their gradual advance, and the extreme clear- 
 ness of the air, permitted the Americans to level their muskets. 
 They however suffered the enemy to approach, before they com- 
 menced their fire ; and waited for the assault, in profound tranquilli- 
 ty. It would be difficult to paint the scene of terror presented by 
 these circumstances. A large town, all enveloped in flames, which, 
 excited by a violent wind, rose to an immense height, and spread 
 every moment more and more ; an innumerable multitude, rushing 
 from all parts, to witness so unusual a spectacle, and see the issue of 
 the sanguinary conflict that was about to commence. The Boston- 
 ians, and soldiers of the garrison, not in actual service, were mounted 
 upon the spires, upon the roofs, and upon the heights. The hills, 
 and circumjacent fields, from which the dread arena could be viewed 
 in safety, were covered with swarms of spectators, of every rank, and 
 age, and sex ; each agitated by fear or hope, according to the party 
 he espoused. 
 
 The English having advanced within reach of musketry, the 
 Americans showered upon them a volley of bullets. This terrible 
 fire was so well supported, and so well directed, that the ranks of 
 the assailants were soon thinned and broken ; they retired in disor- 
 der to the place of their landing ; some threw themselves precipitate- 
 ly into the boats. The field of battle was covered with the slain. 
 The officers were seen running hither and thither, with promises, 
 with exhortations, and with menaces, attempting to rally the soldiers, 
 and inspirit them for a second attack. Finally, after the most pain- 
 ful efforts, they resumed their ranks, and marched up to the enemy. 
 The Americans reserved their fire, as before, until their, approach s 
 and received them with the same deluge of balls. The English, 
 overwhelmed and routed, again fled to the shore. In this perilous 
 moment, general Howe remained for some time alone upon the 
 field of battle ; all the officers who surrounded him were killed or 
 wounded. It is related, that at this critical conjuncture, upon which 
 depended the issue of the day, general Clinton, who, from Cop's 
 Hill, examined all the movements, on seeing the destruction of his 
 troops, immediately resolved to fly to their succour. 
 
 This experienced commander, by an able movement, reestablished 
 order ; and seconded by tha officers, who felt all the importance of 
 success, to English honor and the course of events, he led the troops 
 to a third attack. It was directed against the redoubt, at three 
 several points. The artillery of the ships not only prevented all 
 reenforcements from coming to the Americans, by the isthmus of 
 Charlestown, but even uncovered, and swept the interior of the 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 191 
 
 trench, which was battered in front at the same time. The ammu- 
 nition of the Americans was nearly exhausted, and they could have 
 no hopes of a recruit. Their fire must, of necessity, languish. 
 Meanwhile, the English had advanced to the foot of the redoubt. 
 The provincials, destitute of bayonets, defended themselves valiantly 
 with the but-end of their muskets. But the redoubt being already 
 full of enemies, the American general gave the signal of retreat, and 
 drew off his hien. 
 
 While the left wing and centre of the English army were thus 
 engaged, the light infantry had impetuously attacked the palisades, 
 which the provincials had erected, in haste, upon the bank of the 
 river Mystic. On the one side, and on the other, the combat was 
 obstinate ; and if the assault was furious, the resistance was not 
 feeble. In spite of all the efforts of the royal troops, the provincials 
 still maintained the battle in this part ; and had no thoughts of retir- 
 ing, until they saw the redoubt and Upper part of the trench were in 
 the power of the enemy. Their retreat was executed with an order 
 not to have been expected from new levied soldiers. This strenuous 
 resistance of the left wing of the American arrny, was, in effect, the 
 salvation of the rest ; for, if it had given ground but a few instants 
 sooner, the enemy's light infantry would have taken the main body 
 and right wing in the rear, and their situation would have been hope- 
 less. But the Americans had not yet reached the term of their toils 
 and dangers. The only way that remained of retreat, was by the 
 isthmus of Charlestown, and the English had placed there a ship of 
 war and two floating batteries, the balls of which raked every part of 
 it. The Americans, however, issued from the peninsula, without 
 any considerable loss. Jt was during the retreat, that doctor Warren 
 received his death. Finding the corps he commanded hotly pursued 
 by the enemy, despising all danger, he stood alone before the ranks, 
 endeavoring to rally his troops, and to encourage them by his own 
 example. He reminded them of the moltos inscribed on their 
 ensigns ; on one side of which were these words, ' Jin appeal to 
 Heaven ;' and on the other, ' Qw transtulit, sustinet ;' meaning, that 
 the same Providence which brought their ancestors through so many 
 perils, to a place of refuge, would also deign to support their descend- 
 ants. 
 
 An English officer perceived doctor Warren, and knew him ; he 
 borrowed the musket of one of his soldiers, and hit him with a ball, 
 either in the head or in the breast. He fell dead upon the spot. 
 The Americans were apprehensive lest the English, availing them- 
 selves of victory, should sally out of the peninsula, and attack their 
 head-quarters at Cambridge, But they contented themselves with 
 taking possession of Bunker's Hill, where they intrenched them- 
 selves, in order to guard the entrance of the Neck against any new 
 enterprise on the part of the enemy. The provincials, having the 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 same suspicion, fortified Prospect Hill, which is situated at the mouth 
 of the isthmus, on the side of the main land. But neither the one 
 nor the other were disposed to hazard any new movement ; the first, 
 discouraged by the loss of so many men, and the second, by that of 
 the field of battle and the peninsula. The provincials had to regret 
 five pieces of cannon, with a great number of utensils employed in 
 fortification, and no little camp equipage. 
 
 General Howe was greatly blamed by some, for having chosen to 
 attack the Americans, by directing his battery in front against the 
 fortifications upon Breed's Hill, and the trench that descended 
 towards the sea, on the part of Mystic river. It was thought, that if 
 he had landed a respectable detachment upon the isthmus of Charles- 
 town, an operation which the assistance of the ships of war and float- 
 ing batteries would have rendered perfectly easy to him, it would 
 have compelled the Americans to evacuate the peninsula, without 
 the necessity of corning to a sanguinary engagement. They would 
 thus, in effect, have been deprived of all communication with their 
 camp situated without the peninsula ; and, on the part of the sea, 
 they could have hoped for no retreat, as it was commanded by the 
 English. In this mode, the desired object would, therefore, have 
 been obtained without the sacrifice of men. Such, it is said, was 
 the plan of general Clinton ; but it. was rejected, so great was the 
 confidence reposed in the bravery and discipline of the English 
 soldiers, and in the cowardice of the Americans. The first of these 
 opinions was not, in truth, without foundation ; but the second was 
 absolutely chimerical, and evinced more of intellectual darkness in 
 the English, than of prudence, and just notions upon the state of 
 things. By this fatal error, the bravery of the Americans was con- 
 firmed, the English army debilitated, the spirit of the soldiers abated, 
 and, perhaps, the final event of the whole contest decided. 
 
 The possession of the peninsula of Charlestown was much less 
 useful than prejudicial to the royalists. Their army was not suffi- 
 ciently numerous to guard, conveniently, all the posts of the city and 
 of the peninsula. The fatigues of the soldiers multiplied in an ex- 
 cessive manner ; added to the heat of the season, which was extreme, 
 they generated numerous and severe maladies, which paralysed the 
 movements of the army, and enfeebled it from day to day. The 
 greater part of the wounds became mortal, from the influence of the 
 climate, and defect of proper food. Thus, besides the honor of 
 having conquered the field of battle, the victors gathered no real 
 fruit from this action ; and, if its effects be considered, upon the 
 opinion of other nations, and even of their own, as also upon the 
 force of the army, it was even of serious detriment. In the Ameri* 
 can camp, on the contrary, provisions of every sort were in abun- 
 dance, and the troops being accustomed to the climate, the greater 
 part of the wounded were eventually cured ; their minds were 
 
BOOK T. THE AMERICAN WAR. 193 
 
 animated with the new ardor of vengeance, and the blood they had 
 lost exacted a plenary expiation. These dispositions were fortified, 
 not a iittle, by the firing of Charlestown, which, from a flourishing 
 town, of signal commercial importance, was thus reduced to a heap 
 of ashes and of ruins. The Americans could never turn their eyes 
 in this direction, without a thrill of indignation, and without exe- 
 crating the European soldiers. But the loss they felt the most 
 sensibiy, was that of general Warren. He was one of those men 
 who are more attached to liberty than to existence, but not more 
 ardently the friend of freedom, than foe to avarice and ambition. 
 He was endowed with a solid judgment, a happy genius, and a bril- 
 liant eloquence. In all private affairs, his opinion was reputed 
 authority, and in all public counsels, a decision. Friends and 
 enemies, equally knowing his fidelity and rectitude in all things, 
 reposed in him a confidence without limits. Opposed to the wicked, 
 without hatred, propitious to the good, without adulation, affable, 
 courteous and humane towards each, he was beloved, with reve- 
 rence, by all, and respected by envy itself. Though in his person 
 somewhat spare, his figure was peculiarly agreeable He mourned, 
 at this epoch, the recent loss of a wife, by whom he was tenderly 
 beloved, and whom he cherished with reciprocal affection. In dying 
 so gloriously for his country, on this memorable day, he left several 
 orphans, still in childhood ; but a grateful country assumed the care 
 of their education. Thus was lost to the state, and to his family, in 
 s.o important a crisis, and in the vigor of his days, a man equally 
 qualified to excel in council or in the field. As for ourselves, faith- 
 ful to the purpose of history, which dispenses praise to the good and 
 blame to the perverse, we have not been willing that tiiis virtuous 
 and valiant American should be deprived, among posterity, of that 
 honorable remembrance so rightfully due to his eminent qualities. 
 
 The expedition of the English against the peninsula of Charles- 
 town, inspired the Americans with a suspicion that they might per- 
 haps also attack Roxbury, in order to open a communication with the 
 country. In consequence of this apprehension, they strengthened 
 their fortifications with incessant application, adding new bastions to 
 their lines, and furnishing them copiously with artillery, of which 
 they had obtained a fresh supply. The garrison of Boston, which 
 abounded in munitions of war, kept up a continual fire of its artillery, 
 and particularly of its mortars, to impede the works of the Ameri- 
 cans. The latter had a certain number of dead and wounded, 
 and several houses were burnt in Roxbury. The works were 
 nevertheless continued with incredible constancy, and the fortifi- 
 cations were carried to the degree of perfection desired, and 
 adequate to serve for a sufficient defence against the assaults of the 
 enemy. 
 
 VOL. i. 25 
 
194 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 The Bostonians having seen their countrymen driven not only from 
 Breed's Hill, but also from the entire peninsula, and dreading the 
 horrors of a siege, which every thing presaged must be long and rigot- 
 ous, experienced anew a strong desire to abandon the city, and seek 
 refuge in the interior of the province. Accordingly, the selectmen 
 of the city waited on general Gage, intreating him to deliver the 
 requisite passports ; and protesting that, according to the accord pre- 
 viously made, all the citizens had deposited their arms in the Town 
 Hall. But the general, desirous of a pretext for his refusal, issued 
 a proclamation, two days subsequent to the affair of Breed's Hill, 
 declaring, that, by various certain ways, it had come to his know- 
 ledge, that great quantities of arms were concealed in the interior of 
 houses, and that the inhabitants meditated hostile designs. This, at 
 least, was what the loyalists reported, who, terrified at the valor and 
 animosity the patriots had manifested in this battle, were apprehen- 
 sive of some fatal accident, and were unwilling to release their hos- 
 tages. But the truth is, that the greater part had delivered up their 
 arms, though some had concealed the best and the most precious. 
 However, the English general, who kept his word with nobody, would 
 have others to observe the most scrupulous faith. He refused, there- 
 fore, for a long time, all permission to depart. But, finally, the 
 scarcity increasing more and more, and all hope of being able to 
 raise the siege becoming illusory, he found himself constrained to grant 
 passes, in order to disburthen himself of useless mouths. He stre- 
 nuously still persisted in refusing to permit the inhabitants who retired, 
 to remove their furniture and effects. Thus, when compelled by 
 necessity to consent to that which he had no power to prevent, he 
 annexed to it a rigorous condition, the more inexcusable, as it was 
 altogether without utility, and even could have none but prejudicial 
 results. In this manner, men who renounce all moderation of mind, 
 and abandon themselves to the violence of their irritated passions, 
 often take resolutions, which, far from approaching them to the end 
 proposed, powerfully tend to render its attainment hopeless. 
 
 The dearth of provisions to which the garrison of Boston found 
 themselves reduced, caused them to endeavor to procure supplies, 
 by falling suddenly upon the different islands of the environs. Hence, 
 frequent rencounters ensued between the English and the Americans, 
 in which the latter acquired greater courage, and greater experience ; 
 while the former became but the more surprised, and the more irri- 
 tated, at these demonstrations of prowess. The provincials, perfectly 
 conversant with the places, and knowing how to avail themselves of 
 occasions, generally had all the advantage, in these collisions. 
 Sometimes they bore off the stock which remained ; sometimes they 
 burnt the forage, or the houses which might serve as a covert for the 
 enemy. In vain did the English appear every where with their nu- 
 merous marine ; the provincials slid themselves sometimes into one 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 island, and sometimes into another, and cut off the royalists, thus taken 
 by surprise. In like manner upon the coast frequent skirmishes took 
 pJace ; the one party coming for booty, and the other flying to repulse 
 them. This predatory warfare could have no effect to incline the 
 balance more to one side than to the other ; it served only to envenom 
 the minds of men, and convert them from partisans, as they were, 
 into viperous and irreconcilable enemies. 
 
 While these events were passing within Boston and its environs, 
 the new Congress had convened at Philadelphia, in the month of May. 
 If the first had commenced a difficult work, this had it to continue; 
 and the difficulties were even increased. At the epoch of the for- 
 mer, war was apprehended ; now it had commenced ; and it was 
 requisite to push it with vigor. Then, as it usually happens in all 
 new enterprises, minds were full of ardor, and tende^l, by a certain 
 natural proclivity, towards the object ; at present, though greatly 
 inflamed by the same sentiments, it was to be feared they might cool, 
 in consequence of those vicisitudes so common in popular move- 
 ments, always more easy to excite than to maintain. A great number 
 .of loyalists, believing that things would not come to the last extremi- 
 ties, and that either the petitions sent to England would dispose the 
 government to condescend to the desires of the Americans, or that, 
 in time, the latter would become tranquil, had hitherto kept them- 
 selves quiet; but it was to be feared, that, at present, seeing all hope 
 of reconciliation vanished, and war, no longer probable, but already 
 waged against that king towards whom they wished to remain faith- 
 ful, they would break out, and join themselves to the royal forces, 
 against the authors of the revolution. It was even to be doubted, lest 
 many of the partisans of liberty, who had placed great hope in the 
 petitions, should falter at the aspect of impending losses and inevita- 
 ble dangers. All -announced that the contest would prove long and 
 sanguinary. It was little to be expected, that a population, until then 
 pacific, and engaged in the arts of agriculture and of commerce, 
 could all at once learn that of war, and devote themselves to it with 
 constancy, and without reserve. It was much more natural to ima- 
 gine, that, upon the abating of this first fervor, the softer image of 
 their former life recurring lo their minds, they would abandon their 
 colors, to go and implore the clemency of the conqueror. It was, 
 therefore, an enterprise of no little difficulty for the Congress to form 
 regulations and lake measures, capable of maintaining the zeal of the 
 people, and to impart to its laws the influence which at first had been 
 exercised by public opinion. What obstacles had they not to sur- 
 mount, in order to reduce a multitude, collected in haste and in 
 tumult, to that state of rigorous discipline, without which it was not 
 permitted to hope for success ! Nor was it an easy task to prevent, in 
 the conduct of the war, the revival of those jealousies which had 
 heretofore existed between the different colonies ; and which might 
 
19G THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V- 
 
 serve as a motive, or a pretext, for some of them to consent to an 
 accommodation, and thus desert the common cause. The money 
 requisite to defray the expenses of the war, was almost totally want- 
 ing ; and there was no prospect of being able to remedy, for the 
 future, the delect of this principal sinew. It was, on the contrary, 
 more rationally to be expected, that the penury of the finances would 
 progressively increase, in consequence of the interruption, or rather 
 total cessation, of commerce, produced by the acts of the British 
 parliament. The want of arms and munitions of war, was no less 
 afflicting; not that there was absolutely no provision of military stores, 
 but it was very far from being adequate to the exigency. And fur- 
 ther, it may be considered as a thing very doubtful, whether even the 
 American chiefs sincerely expected to be able, of themselves, to 
 resist the forces of England, and to attain the object of so arduous 
 an enterprise. Nay, it is allowable to believe they placed great de- 
 pendence upon foreign succours ; and these were only to be looked 
 for on the part of the princes of Europe ; who, if they beheld with 
 satisfaction the effects of the American disturbances, must at least 
 have detested their causes, and the principles for which the colo- 
 nies combated. It was no less evident, that these sovereigns would 
 not declare themselves in favor of the Americans, and would not lend 
 them assistance, until the latter should have signalised their arms by 
 some brilliant achievement, of decisive importance for the eventual 
 success of the war. The Americans themselves were perfectly aware, 
 that it would be vain to attempt, at first, to draw the European states 
 into their quarrel ; that the first brunt of the war must be borne by 
 themselves alone ; and, that, if they proved unfortunate, all hope of 
 foreign aid must be abandoned. The prosperity of the enterprise 
 was therefore precis?ly so much the less probable, as it was the more 
 necessary ; since the means did not exist for providing, in so short a 
 time, the necessary preparations of war. So many obstacles demon- 
 strated the little foundation there was for expecting the support of 
 foreign nations. This consideration was calculated to damp the ardor 
 of the American chiefs, and to introduce a certain vacillation into all 
 their measures. Finally, there was an object of primary interest, 
 which demanded the attention of Congress ; that of ascertaining what 
 line of conduct the Indian nations were likely to observe in the pre- 
 sent contest. Their neutrality, or their adhesion to this party or to 
 that, was of essential importance to the issue of the whole enterprise. 
 The Americans had reason to fear the influence of the English over 
 these nations ; as they are only to be swayed by gifts, and the hope of 
 plunder ; and the English, -in the control of these means, had greatly 
 the advantage of their adversaries. The Indians, with much greater 
 assurance, could promise themselves pillage in combating for Eng- 
 land ; since her arms, at this epoch, appeared secure of victory, and 
 since the American territory was to be the theatre of the war. Ca- 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 19? 
 
 nada, also, presented to the English a way of communication with 
 the Indian tribes, "who mostly inhabit the banks of the lakes situated 
 behind the colonies, and in front of this English province. It was, 
 besides, of the last importance to those who conducted the affairs of 
 America, to avoid exposing themselves to the least reproach on the 
 part of the people of Great Britain, and even of such of their fellow- 
 citizens as, being either adverse, wavering, or torpid, could not have 
 witnessed the breaking out of hostilities, without a severe shock. 
 Now, though it was little difficult to undertake the justification of the 
 affairs of Lexington and of Breed's Hill, in which the colonists had 
 combated in their own defence against an enemy who assailed them, 
 could the same motives have been alleged in favor of the expeditions 
 upon the frontiers of Canada, directed against the fortresses of Ti- 
 conderoga, and of Crown Point, in which the Americans had been 
 the aggressors ? Not that these hostilities would stand in need of 
 excuse, with men conversant in affairs of state ; for, the war once 
 kindled, it was natural that the Americans should endeavor to do the 
 enemy all the harm in their power, and to preserve himself from his 
 assaults. But the mass of people could not see things in the same 
 light ; and still it was essentially the interest of the patriot leaders, to 
 demonstrate, even to evidence, the justice of the cause they defend- 
 ed. All their force consisted in opinion ; and arms themselves 
 depended on this ; so dissimilar was their situation to that of govern- 
 ments confirmed by the lapse of ages, in which, by virtue of esta- 
 blished laws, whether the war be just or not, the regular troops hurry 
 to battle, the people pay the. cost ; arms, ammunition, provisions, all, 
 in a word, are forthcoming, at the first signal ! But the greatest 
 obstacle which the Congress had to surmount, was the jealousy of the 
 provincial assemblies. As all the provinces had joined the league, 
 and taken part in the war, it was requisite that each should concur in 
 the general counsels, which directed the administration ; and that all 
 the movements of the body politic should tend towards the same 
 object. Such had been the origin of the American Congress. But 
 this body could not take the government of all parts of the confede- 
 racy, without assuming a portion of the authority which belonged to 
 the provincial assemblies ; as, for example, that of levying troops, of 
 disciplining the army, of appointing the generals who were to com- 
 mand it in the name of America, and finally, that of imposing taxes, 
 and of creating a paper currency. It was to be feared, if too much 
 authority was preserved to the provincial assemblies, they might 
 administer the affairs of the union with private views, which would 
 have become a source of the most serious inconveniences. On the 
 other hand, it was suspected that these assemblies were extremely 
 unwilling to invest the Congress with the necessary authority, by 
 divesting themselves of a part of their own ; and, therefore, that 
 either they would oppose its deliberations, or not exercise in their 
 
198 THE AMERICAN WAJU. BOOK V. 
 
 execution that exactness and promptitude so desirable to secure the 
 success of military operations. 
 
 From this outline of the circumstances under which the Congress 
 assembled, it is seen how difficult was their situation. Others, per- 
 haps, endowed with less force of character, though with equal 
 prudence, would have been daunted by its aspect. But these minds, 
 inspired by the novelty and ardor of their opinions, either did not 
 perceive, or despised, their own dangers and the chances of the public 
 fortune. It is certain, that few enterprises were ever commenced 
 with greater intrepidity ; for few have presented greater uncertainty 
 and peril. But the die was cast ; and the necessity itself in which 
 they were, or believed themselves placed, did not permit them to 
 recede. To prevent accidents, not willing to wait for the times to 
 become their law, they resolved to have recourse, the first moment, 
 to the most prompt and the most efficacious means. 
 
 The first thoughts of Congress were necessarily turned towards 
 the army that blockaded Boston, to see that there should be wanting 
 neither arms, nor ammunition, nor reenforcements, nor able and 
 valiant generals. As for those who were then employed, it was to be 
 remarked, that having received their authority from the colonial 
 assemblies, they could not pretend to command the army in the name 
 of the whole Union. If they had all consented to serve under 
 general Putnam, it was on account of his seniority ; and the power he 
 enjoyed, was rather a sort of temporary dictature, conferred by the 
 free will of the army, than an office delegated by the general govern- 
 ment. The new state of things required a new military system, and 
 the confederate troops ought, necessarily, to have a chief appointed 
 by the government, which represented the entire confederation. The 
 election of a Generalissimo, was an act of supreme importance ; on 
 this alone might depend the good or ill success of the whole series 
 of operations. Among the military men that were then found in 
 America, and had shown themselves not only well disposed, but 
 even ardent for the cause of liberty, those who enjoyed the greatest 
 esteem, were Gates and Lee ; the first, for his experience ; the 
 second, because, to much experience, he joined a very active genius. 
 But the one, and the other, were born in England ; and whatever 
 were their opinions, and the warmth with which they had espoused 
 the cause of America ; whatever even was the confidence the Con- 
 gress bad placed in them, they would have deemed it a temerity to 
 commit themselves to the good faith of two Englishmen, in a circum- 
 stance upon which depended the safety of all. In case of misfortune, 
 it would have been impossible to persuade the multitude they had not 
 been guilty of treason, or, at least, of negligence, in the accomplish- 
 ment of their duties ; suspicions which would have acted in the most 
 fatal manner upon an army whose entire basis reposed on opinion. 
 Besides, Lee was a man of impetuous character, and, perhaps. 
 
BOOK T. THE AMERICAN WAR. 190 
 
 rather hated tyranny than loved liberty. These searching and dis- 
 trustful spirits were apprehensive that such a man, alter having 
 released them from the tyranny of England, might attempt, himself, 
 to usurp their liberty. And further, the supreme direction of the 
 war, once committed to the hands of an individual, English born, 
 the latter would be restricted to the alternative, of abandoning the 
 colonies, by a horrible treason, to the absolute power of England, or 
 of conducting them to a state of perfect independence. And the 
 American chiefs, though they detested the first of these conditions, 
 were not willing to deprive themselves of the shelter afforded by a 
 discretion, with regard to the second. It was the same consideration 
 which determined the Congress against appointing one of the generals 
 of the provinces of New England, such as Putnam or Ward, who 
 then commanded the army of the siege, and who had recently 
 demonstrated such signal valor and ability, in all the actions which 
 had taken place in the vicinity of Boston. Both had declared them- 
 selves too openly in favor of independence ; the Congress desired, 
 indeed, to procure it, but withal, in a propitious time. Nor should it 
 escape mention, that the colonists of Massachusetts were reproached 
 with a too partial patriotism ; showing themselves rather the men of 
 their province than Americans. The provinces of the middle and of 
 the south betrayed suspicions ; they would have seen with evil eye, 
 the cause of America confided to the hands of an individual who 
 might allow himself to be influenced by certain local prepossessions, 
 at a time in which nil desires and all interests ought to be common. 
 There occurred also another reflection, no less just ; that the office 
 of Generalissimo ought only to be conferred upon a personage, who, 
 in the value of his estate, should offer a sufficient guaranty of his 
 fidelity, as well in conforming himself to the instructions of Congress, 
 as in abstaining from all violation of private property. 
 . It was too well known that military chiefs, when they are not 
 softened and restrained by the principles of a liberal education, make 
 no scruple to glut thejr greedy passions, and lay their hands very 
 freely, not only upon the eifects of the epemy, but even upon those 
 of their allies and of their own fellow-citizens ; a disorder which has 
 always been the scourge, and often the ruin of armies. 
 
 Accordingly, after having maturely weighed these various consi- 
 derations, the Congress proceeded, on the 15th of June, to the elec- 
 tion of a Generalissimo, by the 'way of ballot ; the votes, upon 
 scrutiny, were found all in favor of George Washington, one of the 
 representatives of Virginia. The delegates of Massachusetts would 
 have wished to vote for one of theirs ; but seeing their votes would 
 be lost, they adhered to the others, and rendered the choice unani- 
 mous. Washington was present ; he rose, and said ; that he returned 
 his most cordial thanks to the Congress, for the honor they had con- 
 ferred upon him ; but that he much doubted his abilities were not 
 
'200 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 equal to so extensive and important a trust; that, however, he would 
 not shrink from the task imposed for the service of the country, since, 
 contrary 10 his expectation, and without regard for the inferiority of 
 his merit, it had placed in him so great confidence ; he prayed only, 
 that in case any unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to his 
 reputation, it might be remembered, that he had declared on that 
 day, with the utmost sincerity, he did not think himself equal to the 
 command he was honored with. He assured the Congress, that as 
 no pecuniary consideration had induced him to abandon his domestic 
 ease and happiness, to enter this arduous career, he did not wish any 
 profit from it ; that pay he would not accept, of any sort. 
 
 Colonel Washington, for such was his rank before his election, had 
 acquired the reputation of a brave and prudent commander, in the 
 late wars against the Indians, and against the French ; but at the 
 peace of 1763, he had retired to private life, and no longer exercised 
 the military profession. It is not, therefore, extraordinary, that many 
 should have thought him unable to sustain the burthen of so fierce a 
 war. But, however, the greater part of the nation having full confi- 
 dence in his talents and his courage, the Americans had no hesitation 
 in raising him to this high dignity. He was not only born in America, 
 but he there had also received hir. education, and there had made a 
 continual residence. He was modest, reserved, and naturally an 
 enemy to all ambition ; a quality most of all esteemed by this dis- 
 trustful and jealous people. He enjoyed a considerable fortune, and 
 the general esteem due to his worth and virtue. He was especially 
 considered for his prudence, and a character of singular energy and 
 firmness. It was generally thought, that he did not aim at independ- 
 ence, but merely desired an honorable arrangement with England. 
 This opinion of his, well corresponded with the intentions of the 
 principal representatives, who had no objection to advancing towards 
 independence, but were not yet prepared to discover themselves. 
 They expected to be able so to manage affairs, that one day this 
 great measure would become a necessity, and that Washington him- 
 self, when he should have got warm in the career, would easily allow 
 himself to be induced, by the honor of rank, the force of things, or 
 the voice of glory, to proceed with a firm step, even though instead 
 of the revocation of the oppressive laws, the object of his efforts 
 should become total independence. Thus in the person of this 
 general, who was then in his forty*fourth year, and already far from 
 the illusions of youth, were found united all the qualifications wished 
 for by those who had the direction of affairs. Wherefore, it is not 
 surprising that his election gave displeasure to none, and was even 
 extremely agreeable to the greater number. 
 
 Having given a chief to the Union, the Congress, to demonstrate 
 how much they promised themselves from his fidelity and virtues, 
 resolved unanimously, that they would adhere to, maintain, and assist 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 201 
 
 him, with their lives and fortunes, to preserve and uphold American 
 liberty. Then, wishing to place at the head of the army, other 
 experienced officers, who might second Washington, they appointed 
 Artemas Ward, first major-general ; Charles Lee, second major- 
 general ; and Philip Schuyler, third major-general; Horatio Gates 
 ivas named adjutant-general. A few days after, they created the 
 eight brigadier-generals following ; Selh Pomeroy, William Heath, 
 and John Thomas, of Massachusetts ; Richard Montgomery, of New 
 York; David Wooster and Joseph Spencer, of Connecticut ; John 
 Sullivan, of New Hampshire; and Nathaniel Greene, of Rhode 
 Island. If any thing demonstrated the excellent discernment of 
 Congress, it was, doubtless, the choice of the first generals ; all con- 
 ducted themselves, in the course of the war, as intrepid soldiers, and 
 faithful guardians of American liberty. 
 
 Immediately on being invested with the supreme command, Wash- 
 ington repaired to the camp, at Boston ; he was accompanied by 
 general Lee. He was received, wherever he passed, with the great- 
 est honors ; the most, distinguished inhabitants formed themselves in 
 company to serve him as an escort. The congresses of New York, 
 and of Massachusetts, went to compliment him, and testify the joy 
 his election had given them. He answered them with suavity and 
 modesty; they might be assured that all his thoughts, all his efforts, 
 as well as those of his companions, would be directed towards the 
 reesiablishment of an honorable intelligence between the colonies 
 and the parent state ; that as to the exercise of the fatal hostilities, 
 in assuming the character of warriors, they had not laid aside that of 
 citizens; and, nothing could afford them a gratification so sincere, as 
 for the moment to arrive, when, the rights of America secured, they 
 should be at liberty to return to a private condition, in the midst of 
 a free, peaceful, and happy country. 
 
 The general, having made the review of the army, found, exclu- 
 sively of an almost useless multitude, only fourteen thousand five 
 hundred men, in a condition for service ; and these had to defend a 
 line of more than twelve miles. The new generals arrived at the 
 camp most opportunely ; for the discipline of the army, having fallen, 
 as it were into desuetude, it was urgently necessary to introduce a 
 reform. The officers had no emulation ; the soldiers scarcely 
 observed 'the regulations, and neglected all care of cleanliness. 
 And, being mostly drawn from -New England, they manifested a 
 refractory spirit, impatient of all subordinancy. 
 
 The generals of Congress, but not without the most painful efforts, 
 succeeded in repairing these disorders. General Gates, who was 
 profoundly versed in all the details of military organisation, contri- 
 buted more than any other to this salutary work. The soldiers 
 became gradually accustomed to obedience ; the regulations were 
 observed ; each began to know his duly: and, at length, instead of 
 VOL. i. 26 
 
202 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 a mass of irregular militia, the camp presented the spectacle of a 
 properly disciplined army. It was divided into three corps ; the 
 right, under the command of Ward, occupied Roxbury ; the left, 
 conducted by Lee, defended Prospect Hill; and the centre, which 
 comprehended a select corps, destined for reserve, was stationed at 
 Cambridge, where Washington himself had established his head- 
 quarters. The circumvallation was fortified by so great a number of 
 redoubts, and supplied with so formidable an artillery, that it had 
 become impossible for the besieged to assault Cambridge, and spread 
 themselves in the open country. It was believed, also, that they had 
 lost a great many men, as well upon the field of battle, as in conse- 
 quence of wounds and disease. 
 
 But the American army was near wanting a most essential article ; 
 the inventory of powder deposited at Roxbury, Cambridge, and other 
 places of the vicinity, represented a public stock of only ninety bar- 
 rels. It was known also, that there existed but thirty-six in the 
 magazines of Massachusetts. Though to this quantity had been 
 added all that New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut could 
 furnish, the whole would have fallen short of ten thousand pounds ; 
 which allowed but nine charges a man. In this scarcity and danger, 
 the army remained more than fifteen days ; and, if the English had 
 attacked during the time, they might easily have forced the lines, 
 and raised the siege. At length, by the exertions of the committee 
 of New Jersey a few tons of powder arrived at the camp, which 
 supplied, for the moment, the necessities of the army, and averted 
 the evils that were feared. 
 
 There remained, also, an important part to be organised in the 
 American army ; it had, as yet, no special corps of riflemen, which, 
 however, were extremely essential for sudden and desultory opera- 
 tions ; for maintaining discipline in the camp ; and for protecting the 
 arrival of recruits, of ammunition, and of provisions. It was neces- 
 sary, withal, to consider, that if the war, as it was probable, after the 
 arrival of reenforcements from England, should be established in the 
 open country, light troops became absolutely indispensable, in such a 
 country as America, broken incessantly by ravines and waters, and 
 obstructed by forests, hedges, mountains, and almost impracticable 
 defiles. Accordingly, the Congress resolved that there should be 
 raised, in Pennsylvania and Virginia, a sufficient number of riflemen ; 
 who, the moment the companies should be formed, were to com- 
 mence their march towards the camp of Boston, where they were 
 destined for the service of light infantry. At the news of the battle 
 of Breed's Hill, the Congress decreed that two companies more 
 should be levied in Pennsylvania, and that they should all be united 
 in a single battalion, to be commanded by such officers as the pro- 
 vincial assembly or Congress might appoint. These companies of 
 riflemen arrj^ed at the camp about the commencement of August; 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 203 
 
 they formed a corps of not far from fourteen hundred men, light 
 clothed, and armed, for the most part, with rifles of great projectile 
 power. 
 
 While the American army that besieged Boston was thus daily 
 reenforced, and furnished with all articles of immediate necessity, 
 the Congress employed themselves with extreme activity in taking 
 such measures as they thought best calculated to keep on foot the 
 troops already assembled ; and even to augment and equip them 
 more completely in case of need. Accordingly, it was recommended 
 by a resolution of Congress, that all the colonies should put them- 
 selves in a state of defence, and provide themselves with the greatest 
 possible number of men, of arms, and of munitions; and, especially, 
 that they should make diligent search for saltpetre and sulphur, and 
 collect all they could find of these articles, without delay. An exact 
 scrutiny was therefore commenced, in the cellars and in the stables, 
 in pursuit of materials so essential to modern war. In every part, 
 manufactures of gunpowder, and founderies of cannon, were seen 
 rising ; every place resounded with the preparations of war. The 
 provincial assemblies and conventions seconded admirably the ope- 
 rations of the Congress; and the people obeyed, with incredible 
 promptitude, the orders of these various authorities. 
 
 The Congress, having perceived that zeal for the liberty of Ame- 
 rica at length prevailed over local partialities, and over the jealousy 
 of power, in the provincial assemblies, took greater courage, and 
 resolved to introduce a general system, which might serve to regulate 
 all the levies that were about making in each province. They were 
 not ignorant of the extreme utility of uniformity, in whatever relates 
 to war, as the means of directing all minds towards the same object, 
 and of preventing dissentions. They passed, therefore, a resolution, 
 by which it was recommended, and their recommendations at this 
 epoch were received and executed as laws, that all men fit to bear 
 arms, in each colony, from sixteen years to fifty, should form them- 
 selves into regular companies ; that they should furnish themselves 
 with arms, and should exercise in wielding them ; that the companies 
 should organise themselves into battalions, upon the footing of ha- 
 bitual defence ; and, finally, that a fourth part of the militia, in every 
 colony, should be selected to serve as minute men, always ready to 
 march wherever their presence might be necessary. Those who, 
 from their religious opinions, could not bear arms, were invited to 
 come to the succour of their country, at least with all the other means 
 in their power. The military pay was regulated after the rate of 
 twenty dollars a month to captains, thirteen to lieutenants and en- 
 signs, eight to sergeants and corporals, six to mere soldiers. The 
 Congress also recommended, that each province should appoint a 
 committee of safety, to superintend and direct all those things that 
 might concern the public security, during the recess o the assem- 
 
204 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 blies or conventions. Also, that they should make such provision as 
 they might judge expedient, by armed vessels or otherwise, for the 
 protection of their coasts and navigation against all insults from 
 enemy ships. 
 
 The intentions of Congress were fulfilled, in all parts of the Union, 
 with the utmost cheerfulness ; but no where with more ardor than in 
 Pennsylvania, and particularly in the city of Philadelphia. The 
 militia of this city were divided into three battalions of fifteen hun- 
 dred men each, with an artillery company of one hundred and fifty, 
 and six pieces of cannon. It comprehended, besides, a troop of 
 light horse, and a few companies of light infantry, riflemen, and 
 pioneers. This corps assembled often ; and, exhibiting the sem- 
 blance of battle, manoeuvred in the presence of Congress, and of the 
 inhabitants, who thronged to the spectacle from all parts. The 
 dexterity and precision of the movements excited a general surprise 
 and joy. There were, at least, eight thousand men, of these excel- 
 lent troops, and in their ranks were seen a great number of persons 
 distinguished for their education and condition. The same thing 
 was done in the country towns of Pennsylvania. It appeared that 
 the number of all the men who had taken arms therein, and exercised 
 themselves in handling them, amounted to upwards of sixty thousand. 
 So active, this year, was the zeal of the colonists for their cause, 
 that even a great number of Quakers, however their religious opi- 
 nions forbid them to take arms, and to shed human blood, and not- 
 withstanding their discipline is all of patience and of submission, 
 allowing themselves to be transported by the general ardor, also 
 joined the companies of the Philadelphians. They said, that 
 although their religion prohibited them from bearing arms in favor of 
 a cause the object of which should be either ambition, cupidity, or 
 revenge, they might, nevertheless, undertake the defence of national 
 rights and liberty. Thus there exist no opinions, however rigorous, 
 but what find evasions no minds, however pacific, but kindle in 
 great political convulsions. 
 
 A spectacle, no less extraordinary, attracted the eyes of all the 
 inhabitants of Philadelphia ; whether it was reality, or merely an 
 artifice, with a view of exciting others. The German emigrants 
 who inhabited the city, were almost all very aged, and had seen 
 service in Europe/ At the name of liberty, they also were fired ; 
 and, what was little to have been expected from their years and 
 decrepitude, formed themselves into a body, which was called the 
 Old Men's Company ; resuming the profession of arms, which they 
 had already relinquished so long, they resolved to bear a part in the 
 common defence. The oldest of all was elected captain, and his 
 age wanted not much of a century of years. Instead of a cockade 
 in their hats, they wore a black crape, to denote their concern at 
 those unfortunate causes that compelled them, in the decline of life, 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 205 
 
 to take up arms, in order to defend the liberty of a country which 
 had afforded them a retreat from the oppression which had forced 
 them to abandon their own. 
 
 Even the women became desirous to signalise their zeal in 
 defence of country. In the county of Bristol,* they resolved to 
 raise a regiment, at their own cost ; to equip it entirely, and even to 
 arm such as were unable to afford that expense of themselves. With 
 their own hands they embroidered the colors with mottos appropriate 
 to the circumstances. The gentlewoman who presented them to 
 the regiment, made an eloquent discourse upon public affairs. She 
 earnestly exhorted the soldiers to be faithful, and never to desert the 
 banners of the American ladies. 
 
 All these things, though of little importance in themselves, served, 
 however, admirably to inflame the minds, and render them invincibly 
 resolute. The public papers contributed incessantly to the same 
 end, by a multitude of harangues, of examples, and of news. The 
 battles of Lexington and of Breed's Hill, were the subjects upon 
 which the American writers chiefly delighted to exercise their 
 talents. Every circumstance, all the minutest details of these engage- 
 ments, were accurately described ; and those who had lost life in 
 them, were commemorated with exalted praises. But doctor War- 
 ren, especially, was the object of the most touching regrets, of the 
 most unaffected homage. They called him the Hampden of their 
 age ; they proposed him as a model of imitation, to all who, like 
 him, were ready to devote themselves for the public. The eulogium 
 published in the papers of Philadelphia, was particularly pathetic, 
 and calculated to act powerfully upon the minds of the multitude ; 
 
 ' What spectacle more noble,' said the encomium, ' than this, of a 
 hero who has given his life for the safety of country ! Approach, 
 cruel ministers, and contemplate the fruits of your sanguinary edicts. 
 What reparation can you offer to his children for the loss of such a 
 father, to the king for that of so good a subject, to the country for 
 that of so devoted a citizen ? Send hither your satellites ; come, 
 feast your vindictive rage ; the most implacable enemy to tyrants is 
 no more. We conjure you respect these his honored remains. 
 Have compassion on the fate of a mother overwhelmed with despair 
 and with age. Of him, nothing is left that you can still fear. His 
 eloquence is rnute ; his arms are fallen from his hand ; then lay 
 down yours ; what more have you to perpetrate, barbarians that 
 you are f But, while the name of American liberty shall live, that of 
 Warren will fire our breasts, and animate our arms, against the pest 
 of standing armies. 
 
 * Approach, senators of America ! Come, and deliberate here, 
 upon the interests of the united colonies. Listen to the voice of this 
 
 * Pennsylvania. 
 
206 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 illustrious citizen ; he entreats, he exhorts, he implores you not to 
 disturb his present felicity with the doubt that he perhaps has sacri- 
 ficed his life for a people of slaves. 
 
 4 Come hither, ye soldiers, ye champions of American liberty, and 
 contemplate a spectacle which should inflame your generous hearts 
 with even a new motive to glory. Remember, his shade still hovers 
 unexpiated among us. Ten thousand ministerial soldiers would not 
 suffice to compensate his death. Let ancient ties be no restraint ; 
 foes of liberty are no longer the brethren of freemen. Give edge to 
 your arms, and lay them not down till tyranny be expelled from the 
 British empire ; or America, at least, become the real seat of liberty 
 and happiness. 
 
 ( Approach ye also, American fathers and American mothers ; 
 come hither, and contemplate the first fruits of tyranny ; behold your 
 friend, the defender of your liberty, the honor, the hope of your 
 country ; see this illustrious hero, pierced with wounds, and bathed 
 in his own blood. But let not your grief, let not your tears be steril. 
 Go, hasten to your homes, and there teach your children to detest 
 the deeds of tyranny ; lay before them the horrid scene you have 
 beheld ; let their hair stand on end ; let their eyes sparkle with 
 fire ; let resentment kindle every feature ; let their lips vent threats 
 and indignation ; then then put arms into their hands, send them 
 to battle, and let your last injunction be, to return victorious, or to 
 die, like Warren, in the arms of liberty and of glory ! 
 
 'And ye generations of the future, you will often look back to this 
 memorable epoch. You will transfer the names of traitors and of 
 rebels from the faithful people of America, to those who have merit- 
 ed them. Your eyes will penetrate all the iniquity of this scheme 
 of despotism, recently plotted by the British government. You will 
 see good kings misled by perfidious ministers, and virtuous ministers 
 by perfidious kings. You will perceive that if at first the sovereigns 
 of Great Britain shed tears in commanding their subjects to accept 
 atrocious laws, they soon gave themselves up to joy in the midst of 
 murder, expecting to see a whole continent drenched in the blood 
 of freemen. O, save the human race from the last outrages, and 
 render a noble justice to the American colonies. Recall to life the 
 ancient Roman and British eloquence ; and be not niggardly of 
 merited praises towards those who have bequeathed you liberty. It 
 costs us floods of gold and of blood ; it costs us, alas ! the life of 
 Warren.' 
 
 The Congress, wishing to uphold this disposition of minds, and to 
 render it, if possible, still more ardent and pertinacious, had recourse 
 to the power of religious opinions over the human affections. At 
 their instigation, the synod of Philadelphia and of New York publish- 
 ed a pastoral letter, which was read, to crowded congregations, in 
 all the churches. They affirmed, that unwilling to be the instru- 
 
BOOK T. THE AMERICAN WAR. 207 
 
 ments of discard and of war between men and brethren, they had 
 hitherto observed a scrupulous silence ; but things were now come 
 to such a height, that they were resolved to manifest their senti- 
 ments ; that they exhorted the people, therefore, to go foith as 
 champions in their country's cause ; and to be persuaded, that in so 
 doing, they would march in the ways of the Master of the kings of 
 the earth, and find, in battle, either victory or inevitable death. The 
 letter concluded with certain moral considerations and precepts, well 
 adapted to stimulate the zeal of these religious minds, and to satisfy 
 them that the cause of America was the cause of God. It was 
 recommended to the soldiers to approve themselves humane and 
 merciful ; and to all classes of citizens, to humble themselves, to fast, 
 to pray, and to implore the divine assistance, in this day of trouble 
 and of peril. The Congress recommended that the 20th of July 
 should be kept as a day of fasting, in all the colonies ; which was 
 religiously observed, but more solemnly at Philadelphia than else- 
 where. The Congress attended the divine services in a body ; 
 and discourses adapted to the occasion, were pronounced in the 
 church. 
 
 On the same day, as the Congress were about to enter the temple, 
 the most agreeable despatches were received from Georgia. They 
 announced that this province had joined the confederation, and 
 appointed five delegates for its representation in Congress. This 
 news was accepted by all as a happy augury ; and the joy which its 
 importance excited, was heightened in consideration of the moment 
 at which the government and people were apprised of it. The 
 loyalists had long prevailed in this colony ; and thus it had hitherto 
 continued in a state of immobility, and apparent neutrality. But the 
 extremity to which affairs were come, the battles of Lexington and 
 of Breed's Hill, the cruelties, real or supposed, committed by the 
 royal troops, the probabilities of the success of the war in favor of 
 the Americans, the union and concord of the other colonies, and the 
 efficacious movements of the friends of liberty, among whom Dr. 
 Zubly distinguished himself especially, were at length the cause that 
 a provincial convention adhered to all the resolutions of the general 
 Congress, and took several very energetic measures against England ; 
 either as a compensation for their former coldness, or that the 
 patriots, heretofore repressed, were thus animated with greater fury. 
 They declared, that the exception made of Georgia, in the acts of 
 parliament against America, ought rather to be considered as an 
 injury than a favor, since this exemption was only an artifice to 
 separate them from their brethren. They resolved, also, that they 
 would admit no merchandise which should have been shipped in 
 England, after tbfe 1st of July ; and that, dating from the lOih of 
 September, none should be exported from Georgia for England ; 
 and, besides, that all commerce should cease with the English islands 
 
208 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 of the West Indies, and with those parts of the American continent 
 which had not accepted the resolutions of Congress. These deci- 
 sions were of great importance ; Georgia being, though not one of 
 the most considerable provinces, extremely fertile in grain, and prin- 
 cipally in rice. It was determined also to abstain from all superfluity, 
 and to banish luxury ; to give encouragement to the farmers who 
 should rear the most numerous flocks. Nor was it forgotten to ad- 
 dress a petition to the king, very eloquent, and full of the accustomed 
 protestations of loyalty ; which were lavished, perhaps, the more 
 prodigally, as they were intended no pledges of the reality. 
 
 The general Congress cast an anxious eye upon the province of 
 New York, as well because the loyalists abounded there, as because 
 it is naturally, much exposed to the attacks of an enemy strong in 
 naval forces. To obviate these dangers, it was ordained, that five 
 thousand infantry should be stationed in the environs of New York ; 
 and, in order to secure the soldiers the succours they might need, in 
 case of wounds and sickness, that a hospital should be established, 
 with accommodations for the invalids of an army of twenty thousand 
 men. It was placed under the direction of Dr. Benjamin Church, 
 principal physician of the army. 
 
 Considering, also, of how great importance was the prompt trans- 
 mission of letters, and desirous that the service of the post should be 
 confided to zealous and faithful men, the Congress appointed Dr. 
 Benjamin Franklin director-general of this establishment. He had 
 filled the same office in England, for the letters of America ; and 
 had lost it, for having shown too much attachment to the privileges 
 of the colonies. Regular mails were established upon the route 
 from Falmouth, in New England, to the city of Savannah, in Georgia. 
 
 But, as the Congress could not forget that the principal sinew of 
 war is money, they soon turned their attention to this object, no less 
 important than men and arms themselves, especially in a defensive 
 war, as, from the very nature of things, this, which had broken out 
 in America, was to be, In offensive wars, where the enemy is 
 assailed in his own country, by ravaging his territory, men and arms 
 can obtain money with victory ; whereas, in a war of defence, it is 
 money that must procure men and arms. In the present circum- 
 stances, however, it could not be obtained, but with the greatest 
 difficulties ; since the only resources were loans or taxes. Both 
 presented not only many obstacles, but almost an absolute impossi- 
 bility. For several years, the misunderstanding which had arisen 
 with England had greatly diminished the quantity of specie that 
 circulated in the colonies. The provinces of New England had 
 always been rather sparingly supplied with it ; and the prohibitory 
 acts of parliament, of the last ten years, had excessively attenuated 
 this slender mass. In the southern provinces, though, from the 
 fertility of their lands, the most opulent, this scarcity of coin was stil! 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 209 
 
 increased, not only by the above mentioned causes, but also by a 
 numerous importation of negroes, which had taken place within the 
 few last years. To draw money from these provinces, by way of 
 loans or taxes, would have been an imprudent and dangerous opera- 
 tion, or rather a thing impracticable, at least in the quantity exacted 
 by the wants of the state. It should be added, as to loans, that 
 whether the rich should furnish their money or not, they could 
 always, however, lend their credit ; and the employment of the 
 second means offered more advantages than the first ; for, if the 
 wealthy could aid the state with their funds and their credit at the 
 sante time, men of moderate or narrow fortune had not the same 
 faculty ; thus partial loans of money could not have been effected ; 
 while, on the contrary, a partial loan of credit might be used, which, 
 though made collectively, in the name of all, would in fact be sup- 
 ported partially, in general opinion, by the powerful means of the 
 rich. In respect to taxes, this way offered only inconveniences ; 
 the people of the colonies being little accustomed to assessments, 
 this sudden stroke at their property, in the outset, would infallibly 
 have produced the most pernicious effects. The people inflamed 
 for a common cause more willingly make the sacrifice of their exist- 
 ence than of thx3ir property ; because to the first of these sacrifices 
 is annexed a glory which is foreign to the other, and that honor is 
 more frequently found among the brave than among the rich. Hence 
 the Congress found themselves placed, with respect to this business, 
 in a situation of singular difficulty. This will easily be conceived, 
 when it is considered that they could indeed recommend, but not 
 command ; and that the obedience of the people was more voluntary 
 than constrained. It was much to be feared they would refuse it, if 
 it were attempted to subject them to contributions. 
 
 It was also greatly to be apprehended, that the provincial assem- 
 blies, extremely jealous of the right of establishing public burthens, 
 would consent with repugnance, if not absolutely refuse, that the 
 Congress should assume the power of taxation. How, besides, 
 could the latter hope to assess the tax in a just proportion, with 
 respect to each colony, when their means, founded, in great part, 
 upon commerce, and consequently subject to all the variations result- 
 ing from the disturbances, could not be appreciated upon any certain 
 principle ? It would have been necessary to undertake this operation, 
 without basis, and without rule ; and even the semblance of partial- 
 ity, however imaginary, would have sufficed to excite general clamors, 
 and the most prejudicial dissentions. 
 
 Such were the shoals the Congress had to encounter, in their, 
 efforts to obtain the money necessary to the wants of the state and 
 of war. They resolved, therefore, to avoid them, in resorting to 
 loans of credit, by an emission of bills which should have for gua- 
 ranty the faith of the united colonies. It was hoped that the abun- 
 VOL. i. 27 
 
210 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 dance of provisions, the ardor and unanimity of the people, and 
 particularly of the rich, for the most part favorable to the new order 
 of things, would support the public credit, and prevent a depreciation 
 of the bills. It seems, however, that what had happened in the 
 northern provinces, where the paper money had fallen very seriously, 
 should have served as an example and a warning. Besides, prudent 
 men plainly foresaw that the facility of the thing, and the always 
 increasing multiplicity of wants, would lead to the emission of so 
 great a quantity of this paper, that even its superabundance must 
 'deprive it of much of its value. Indeed, could this have been 
 doubted, considering the Congress would not have an exclusive 
 authority to emit bills of credit, and that the provincial assemblies 
 might as freely exercise the same right? The cause of the evil was 
 too evident for the most prejudicial consequences not to have been 
 anticipated. It was also to be considered, that the chances of war, 
 always uncertain, might prove favorable to the English, and open 
 them a passage into the interior of the provinces ; the inevitable 
 result of which would be, the total ruin of credit, and the annihilation 
 of the bills. It is known by experience, that in similar cases, the 
 distrust of the people admits of no remedy. Such were the motives 
 of hesitation and of fear, which perplexed the minds of the thought- 
 ful, relative to the emission of bills of credit. But there was no 
 yoom for option ; and the Congress found themselves reduced to an 
 extremity so imperious, that any resource became desirable. Ac- 
 cordingly, they had no scruple in adopting the present, which, if not 
 good, was at least necessary. They decreed, in the month of June, 
 that the sum of two millions of Spanish dollars should be issued, in 
 bills of credit; and that the faith of the united colonies should be 
 the .guaranty of their redemption. Some time after, they made 
 another emission of bills, to the value of one million of dollars, in 
 bills of thirty dollars each. They were received, in this first ardor, 
 with universal promptitude* 
 
 Having provided men, arms, and money, the Congress took into 
 consideration the means of gaining the Indian nations, respecting 
 whose dispositions they were not without a certain anxiety. It was 
 known that general Gage had despatched from Boston one of his 
 emissaries, named John Stuart, to the nation of the Cherokees, who 
 inhabit the countries bordering upon South Carolina ; and that 
 general Carleton, governor of Canada, had sent colonel Johnson to 
 the Indians of St. Francis, and others belonging to the Six Tribes, 
 that were nearer to this province. Their object was, to induce these 
 nations with promises, with money, and with presents, to take arms 
 against the colonies ; an expedient which could barely have been 
 tolerated, if every other hope had been lost, and England had been 
 reduced to the necessity either of employing the Indians, or of 
 receiving conditions from the Americans. But how is it possible not 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 211 
 
 to condemn it, not to view it with abhorrence, when other soldiers, 
 and other arms, offered themselves from all parts in abundance, to 
 prosecute the war successfully against the colonies ? Posterity 
 cannot fail to execrate the counsels of those who, without the least 
 necessity, were capable of preferring the barbarous Indians to the 
 disciplined troops of England. This act of detestable ferocity, 
 moreover, turned at length to the confusion of its own authors ; but 
 the rnind of man is blind, his character often cruel, and civil fury 
 implacable. The Congress, consequently, thought of opposing, by 
 the most efficacious means, these English attempts. In order to 
 proceed with more method, they made an ideal division of the 
 Indian tribes into as many districts as there were tribes, and stationed 
 with each an agent, who, knowing the language, customs, and coun- 
 try of these savages, should observe their motions, satisfy their 
 reasonable desires, and provide for their wants ; in a word, these 
 emissaries were to neglect no means of conciliating the benevolence 
 of the Indians, in order that they might give no aid to the royal 
 arms, and observe a strict neutrality. It has been attempted to 
 insinuate, on the contrary, that the Congress had instructed its agents 
 to use all their endeavors to engage the Indians on the American 
 side. But this accusation appears to want probability ; for it was 
 evident that the war was to be carried on upon the American terri- 
 tory, and it was well known that the Indians plunder and massacre- 
 friends as well as enemies. Besides, it is not to be supposed that 
 the Americans could have had the design to sully with a stain of 
 barbarity, in the very outset, a cause which they wished might be 
 reputed by the universe both just and holy. 
 
 We will not, however, omit to relate, that in Philadelphia it was 
 believed, and was announced as a happy event, that the Mohawk 
 Indians, having sent the belt to those of Stockbridge, which, with 
 these nations, was the token of alliance, were ready to march with 
 the colonists against the English. It was in like manner published 
 in Massachusetts, that the Senecas, another Indian nation, were 
 prepared to take arms in favor of America. In addition to this, an 
 Indian chief, named Swashan, accompanied by four other chiefs of 
 the tribe of St. Francis, was conducted, in the month of August, to 
 the camp at Cambridge, by a certain Reuben Colburn. They 'came 
 to offer themselves as ready to undertake the defence of American 
 liberty ; they were well received, and pay was assigned them. 
 Swashan boasted that he would, if required, produce a good band 
 of his people. He added, that the Indians of Canada, and the 
 French themselves, were disposed in favor of the Americans, and 
 were ready to join them. These reports were circulated, and gene- 
 rally believed. But, whatever were the wishes of the people, the 
 Congress desired merely to maintain the savages in neutrality. This 
 moderation did not prevent the English from availing themselves of 
 
212 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 these first demonstrations; affirming-, that they had employed the 
 Indians in their army, because the Americans had first endeavored 
 to gain them for auxiliaries. 
 
 The Congress having arranged the business of the Indians, which 
 had caused them great perplexity, and imboldened by the affairs of 
 Lexington and Breed's Hill, they resolved to manifest the dignity of 
 their cause, and justify their appeal to arms, in the sight of all the 
 nations of the world ; in doing which, they employed the style of 
 independent nations. They published a declaration, wherein they 
 recited, in a strain of singular energy, the toils, the hardships, the 
 perils, which had been the portion of the first colonists, when they 
 went to seek refuge in these foreign and distant regions ; their cares 
 to promote the increase and prosperity of their establishments ; their 
 compacts made with the crown ; the advantages and wealth which 
 England had derived from them. After having mentioned the long 
 fidelity and uniform promptitude of the Americans, in coming to the 
 succour of the mother country, they proceeded to speak of the new 
 measures taken by the ministers upon the conclusion of the last war ; 
 and made an exact enumeration of the laws which had been the 
 subject of complaints, so often, and always so fruitlessly, repeated. 
 They glanced at the iniquitous conditions of accommodation proposed 
 in parliament by lord North, insidiously calculated to divio^ them, to 
 establish an auction of taxations, where colony should bid against 
 colony, all uninformed what ransom would redeem their lives. They 
 described the hostile occupation of the city of Boston, by the troops 
 under the command of general Gage ; the hostilities of Lexington, 
 commenced by the royal soldiers, and the cruelties committed in this 
 expedition ; the violation of faith on the part of this general, in the 
 refusal of permissions to pass out, and by permissions more cruel 
 than refusal, in having, with barbarous inhumanity, separated wives 
 from their husbands, children from their parents, the aged and sick 
 from their relations and friends, who wished to attend and comfort 
 them ; the proprietors from their furniture and most valuable effects. 
 They related the butchery of Breed's Hill, the burning of Charles- 
 town, the seizure of their vessels, the ravage of provisions, 'and the 
 menaced ruin and destruction of all things. The attempts of the 
 governor of Canada to excite the ferocious savages of that province 
 against the colonists, were not omitted ; and they accused the minis- 
 ters of a determination to inflict upon an innocent and unhappy 
 country, the complicated calamities of fire, sword, and famine ; 
 
 'We are reduced,' they exclaimed, 'to the alternative of choosing 
 an unconditional submission to the tyranny of irritated ministers, or 
 resistance by force. We have counted the cost of this contest, and 
 find nothing so dreadful as voluntary slavery. Honor, justice, and 
 humanity, forbid us tamely to surrender that freedom which we 
 received from our gallant ancestors, and which our innocent posterity 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 213 
 
 have a right to receive from us. We cannot endure the infamy of 
 resigning succeeding generations to that wretchedness which inevita- 
 bly awaits them, if we basely entail hereditary bondage upon them. 
 Our cause is just. Our union is perfect. Our resources are great ; 
 and, if necessary, foreign assistance is undoubtedly attainable. We 
 gratefully acknowledge, as signal instances of the divine favor towards 
 us, that his providence would not permit us to be called into this 
 severe controversy, until we were grown up to our present strength, 
 had been previously exercised in warlike operations, and possessed 
 of the means of defending ourselves. With hearts fortified with 
 these animating reflections, we most solemnly, before God and the 
 world, declare, that, exerting the utmost energy of those powers 
 which our beneficent Creator hath graciously bestowed upon us, the 
 arms we have been compelled by our enemies to assume, we will, in 
 defiance of every hazard, with unabating firmness and perseverance, 
 employ for the preservation of our liberties ; being, with one mind, 
 resolved to die freemen rather than to live slaves. Lest this decla- 
 ration should disquiet the minds of our friends and fellow subjects 
 in any part of the empire, we assure them that we mean not to 
 dissolve that union which has so long and so happily subsisted between 
 us, and which we sincerely wish to see restored. Necessity has not 
 yet driven us into that desperate measure, or induced us to excite 
 any other nation to war against them. We have not raised armies, 
 with ambitious designs of separating from Great Britain, and esta- 
 blishing independent states. We fight not for glory or for conquest. 
 We exhibit to mankind tlie remarkable spectacle of a people attacked 
 by unprovoked enemies, without any imputation or even suspicion of 
 offence. They boast of their privileges and civilisation, and yet 
 proffer no milder conditions, than servitude or death. 
 
 1 In our native land, in defence of the freedom that is our birth- 
 right, and which we ever enjoyed till the late violation of it, for 
 the protection of our property, acquired solely by the honest industry 
 of .our forefathers and ourselves, against violence actually offered, 
 we have taken up arms. We shall lay them down, when hostilities 
 shall cease on the part of the aggressors, and all danger of their 
 being renewed shall be removed, and not before. 
 
 ' With an humble confidence in the mercies of the supreme and 
 impartial Judge and Ruler of the universe, we most devoutly implore 
 his divine goodness to protect us happily through this great conflict, 
 to dispose our adversaries to reconciliation on reasonable terms, and 
 thereby to relieve the empire from the calamities of civil war.' 
 
 This manifesto, which was generally received with great eulogium, 
 was subscribed by John Hancock, who had been elected president 
 of Congress in place of Rutledge, and countersigned by the secre- 
 tary, Charles Thomson. 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 The Congress, in this occurrence also, omitted not to employ the 
 means of religion. The declaration was sent into every part of the 
 continent, and read from the pulpits by the ministers of religion, 
 .with suitable exhortations. In the carnp of Boston it was read with 
 particular solemnity. Major-general Putnam assembled his division 
 upon the heights of Prospect Hill, to hear it. It was followed by a 
 prayer analogous to the occasion ; the general having given the signal, 
 all the troops cried three times, Amen ; and, at the same instant, the 
 artillery of the fort fired a general salute ; the colors, recently sent 
 to general Putnam, were seen waving, with the usual motto, ' Jin 
 appeal to Heaven ;' and this other, ' Qwi transulit sustinetS The 
 same ceremony was observed in the other divisions. The joy and 
 enthusiasm were universal. At Cambridge, the manifesto was read 
 in the presence of the most distinguished citizens of Massachusetts, 
 and of an immense multitude that were assembled upon this occasion. 
 There resulted from it, in all minds, no little increase of constancy, 
 fortified by religious zeal. All this was done in imitation of what 
 had been practised by the patriots in the times of Charles I. It 
 seemed as if this same war was renewed, in which the Protestant 
 religion served as a motive or a pretext to the defenders of liberty, 
 or to the promoters of anarchy ; and the Catholic religion, as a title, 
 or a veil, to the partisans of limited monarchy, or to the supporters 
 of despotism so powerful is the voice of religion over human hearts! 
 And such has always been the propensity of those who govern nations, 
 to profit by it ! Hence religion itself sustains an incalculable injury ; 
 hence that coldness towards it, which, to the regret of prudent men, 
 has been observed at certain periods. The generality of people have 
 discovered that politic men make use of religion as an instrument to 
 arrive at their worldly ends. Man, being naturally a foe to restraint, 
 and inordinate in his desires, instead of restricting himself within the 
 limits of good, is too often precipitated into its contrary. Thus reli- 
 gion, which should always be holy and spotless, too often has favored 
 culpable enterprises, to 'the great scandal of the people, and manifest 
 diminution of its own authority, and of good habits. Be this as it 
 may, it is quite certain, that if the semblance of religion, with which 
 the Americans endeavored to color their enterprise, produced greater 
 unanimity and ardor among themselves, it engendered also more 
 obstinacy and rigor on the part of the English government, in the 
 conduct of the war. In their contemplation, state policy was coupled 
 with the remembrance of the obstacles which the ancient British 
 monarchs were forced to contend with ; which, mingled with a cer- 
 tain terror, excited them to greater bitterness and fury. 
 
 The Congress having thus attempted to justify their conduct before 
 the tribunal of the world, they employed their thoughts in protesting 
 to the English people, that the intention of the Americans was to 
 maintain those ancient relations which had been, and still were their 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 215 
 
 glory, their happiness, and the first of their desires. They admon- 
 ished them, in a grave and pathetic style, to remember the ancient 
 friendships, the glorious and common achievements of their ancestors, 
 and the affection towards the heirs of their virtues, which had hitherto 
 preserved their mutual connexion. ' But when,' they added, ' that 
 friendship is violated by the grossest injuries ; when the pride of 
 ancestry becomes our reproach, and we are no otherwise allied than 
 as tyrants and slaves ; when reduced to the melancholy alternative 
 of renouncing your favor or our freedom ; our choice cannot be 
 doubtful.' After some lines upon their merits towards the mother 
 country, and expatiating upon the pernicious laws, they concluded, 
 by saying, that victory would prove equally fatal to England and to 
 America ; that soldiers who had sheathed their swords in the boXvels 
 of the Americans, would have as little reluctance to draw them against 
 Britons; that they entreated heaven to avert from their friends, 
 brethren and countrymen, for by these names they would still address 
 them, before the remembrance of former kindness was obliterated, 
 the destruction and ruin that threatened them. 
 
 They also drew up an address to the king, which commenced 
 with a recital of the services rendered by the colonists, of their fide- 
 lity towards the crown, and of the calamities that now oppressed 
 them. They supplicated his majesty, that he would deign to inter- 
 pose his authority, to procure them relief from their present condition ; 
 that he would be pleased to direct some mode, by which the united 
 applications of the colonists to the throne, might be improved into a 
 happy and permanent reconciliation. They implored also, that arms, 
 in the meantime, might cease ; and thai such statutes as more imme- 
 diately distressed them, might be repealed ; affirming, that, having 
 done them this justice, the king would receive such proofs of the 
 good disposition of the colonists, as would soon restore them to his 
 royal favor ; whilst, on their part, they should neglect nothing to testify 
 their devotion to their sovereign, and- affection towards the parent 
 state. 
 
 The Congress had motives for wishing to render the Irish nation 
 favorable to their cause ; a great number of useful citizens annually 
 emigrated from Ireland to America ; and thus, among the soldiers, 
 and even among the American generals, were found some Irish. 
 They were apprehensive that the people of Ireland might receive 
 impressions unfavorable to the colonists, in consequence of the asso- 
 ciations against commerce, which were seriously prejudicial to that 
 country. They were not ignorant, besides, that the Irish were, for 
 many reasons, dissatisfied with the English government, and that, 
 notwithstanding the concessions which had recently been made them, 
 no little animosity still rankled in their minds. The Congress pur- 
 posed to avail themselves of this misunderstanding, and to irritate 
 the wounds already festering in the breast of the Irish. It would be 
 
216 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 difficult to prove this conduct strictly consistent with loyalty. But the 
 war was now commenced, and the Americans were disposed to use 
 all means to carry it on with advantage ; and none are more sanc- 
 tioned by usage, than those of feigning to desire peace, and of exciting 
 and exasperating the minds of the enemy's subjects, against lawful 
 authority. To this intent, the Congress addressed a very eloquent 
 letter to the Irish people. ' They were desirous,' they affirmed, * as 
 injured and innocent, of possessing the good opinion of the virtuous 
 and humane ; however incredible it might appear, that, in so enlight- 
 ened a period, the leaders of a nation, which in every age had sacri- 
 ficed hecatombs of her bravest patriots on the altar of liberty, should 
 attempt to establish an arbitrary sway over the lives, liberties, and 
 property of their fellow subjects in America ; it was, nevertheless, a 
 most deplorable and indisputable truth.' The battles of Lexington 
 and Breed's Hill, the burning of Charlestown, and the imprisonments 
 of Boston, were mentioned in suitable terms. * Who can blame us,' 
 they added, ' for endeavoring to restrain the progress of so much 
 desolation ? for repelling the attacks of such a barbarous band ? We 
 have no doubt, with the divine assistance, of rising superior to the 
 usurpations of evil and abandoned ministers. We already anticipate 
 the golden period, when liberty, with all the gentle arts of peace and 
 humanity, shall establish her mild dominion in this western world, and 
 erect eternal monuments to the memory of those virtuous patriots and 
 martyrs, who shall have fought, and bled, and suffered, in her cause. 
 
 4 Accept our most grateful acknowledgments for the friendly dis- 
 position you have always shown towards us. We know that you are 
 not without your grievances. W T e sympathise with you in your dis- 
 tress, and are pleased to find, that the design of subjugating us, has 
 persuaded administration to dispense to Ireland some vagrant rays of 
 ministerial sunshine. Even the tender mercies of government have 
 long been cruel towards you. In the rich pastures of Ireland, many 
 hungry parricides have fed and grown strong, to labor in its destruc- 
 tion. We hope the patient abiding of the meek may not always be 
 forgotten ; and God grant that the iniquitous schemes of extirpating 
 liberty from the British empire may be soon defeated. We have 
 taken up arms to defend it ; and with it, our property, our honor, our 
 existence ; all, in a word, that is dearest to man upon earth. For 
 the success of our efforts, we confide in the good offices of our fellow 
 subjects beyond the Atlantic, aware as they must be, that they have 
 no other favor to expect from the same common enemy, than that of 
 being last devoured.' 
 
 With the same view, the Congress wrote a letter to the city of 
 London, to return thanks for the part it had taken in favor of Ame- 
 rica ; a conduct, they said, which well became the first city in the 
 world, that, in all ages, had approved itself the defender of liberty 
 and just government, against lawless tyranny and oppression. 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 217 
 
 In the midst of these cares, the Congress had not forgotten how 
 important it was to the success of their enterprises, to conciliate the 
 friendship of the Canadians, in order that they might either make 
 common cause with the Americans, or, at least, stand neutral. They 
 knew that the first letter had not been without effect, and they resolv- 
 ed to confirm it with a second. The situation of affairs was favora- 
 ble to their hopes ; the act of Quebec had, in this province, produced 
 effects altogether contrary to those its authors had anticipated. The 
 greater part of the inhabitants had received it with evident marks of 
 displeasure, and, by all except the nobles, it was considered tyran- 
 nical, and tending to oppression. And although it could not be ex- 
 pected that the Canadians, long accustomed, under the French, to a 
 more rigid rein, should be as much inclined to resistance as the Eng- 
 lish colonists, habituated to live under the laws of a milder govern- 
 ment, yet there was ground to hope, that from aversion to the English 
 domination, they might be induced to take part in the quarrel, and 
 unite their arms to those of their neighbors. It was known, however, 
 that a part of the Canadians, and especially those of Montreal, and 
 other places nearer to the colonies, had manifested great displeasure 
 at the occupation by the colonists of Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and 
 the lakes which lead from the colonies to Canada. The Congress 
 wished to dissipate entirely these suspicions and jealousies ; but, what 
 was more worthy of their consideration, is, that they had positive 
 intelligence of the exertions which the English governor was conti- 
 nually making, to dispose the Canadians to take arms, and march 
 under the British banners. The agents of the king spared neither 
 gold nor promises, to attain their object. General Carleton, who was 
 then governor, though of a character naturally severe, derived great 
 facility in this point from the extensive influence ha enjoyed with the 
 inhabitants, and the reputation he had deservedly acquired, of a good 
 chieftain, a humane man, and an upright citizen. It 'was known, that 
 he was arrived in the province with very ample powers. He could 
 appoint or dismiss, at will, all the members of the council ; compel 
 as many Canadian subjects as he should see fit. to inarch against 
 whatever enemy he might deem it expedient to combat ; construct 
 forts and dismantle them ; in a word, take all the measures he might 
 think necessary for the security of the province. He was, besides, 
 not a man to hesitate how to exercise the authority which had been 
 confided to him. He had already made use of it, in proclaiming that 
 the Canadians who should present themselves, should be received as 
 volunteers, into the king's pay, and formed into a regiment. The 
 Americans had learned, besides, that the government had resolved 
 to expedite, for Canada, fifteen thousand muskets, in order to arm the 
 Roman Catholics of that country. All announced, that it was intended 
 to assemble a strong force, with a view of attacking the colonies in 
 the rear, and of cooperating with general Gage. Lord North hirn- 
 VOL. i. 28 
 
218 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 self, in his discourse to parliament, had intimated that such was the 
 design of the government. The moment was critical ; and, without 
 a prompt remedy, it was to be feared the Canadians would take their 
 resolution to act against the colonies. The Congress, therefore, de- 
 cided to address them a letter, entitling it, ' To the oppressed Inha- 
 bitants of Canada.' It was strong in thoughts, expressed in a style 
 as elegant as it was spirited. They reminded the Canadians, that, by 
 their late address, they had already apprised them of the designs in 
 agitation to extirpate the rights arid liberties of all America ; they had 
 now to condole with them most sincerely, that these schemes were 
 about to be carried into execution ; or rather, that, by the new form 
 of government given to the province of Canada, were already intro- 
 duced ; that thus its inhabitants, their wives, and their children, were 
 made slaves ; that thus they had nothing they could any longer call 
 their own ; that all the fruits of their labor and industry might be 
 taken from them, whenever an avaricious governor and a rapacious 
 council might incline to demand them ; that they were liable to be 
 transported into foreign countries, to fight battles in which they had no 
 interest ; that the enjoyment of their very religion depended on a 
 legislature in which they had no share ; that their priests were expos- 
 ed to expulsion, banishment, and ruin, whenever their wealth and 
 possessions should furnish sufficient temptations ; that they could not 
 be sure that a virtuous prince would always fill the throne ; and, 
 should a wicked or a careless king concur with a wicked ministry, in 
 extracting the treasure and strength of their country, it was impossi- 
 ble to conceive to what variety, and to what extremes of wretchedness 
 they might, under the present establishment, be reduced ; that the 
 Americans knew full well that every exertion was made, that every 
 artifice was employed, to arm their brethren of Canada against them; 
 but should they, by complying in this instance, assent to their new 
 establishment, and a war break out with France, let them recollect, 
 their wealth and their sons might be sent to perish in expeditions 
 against the French Islands in the West Indies ; that as to the colo- 
 nists, they were determined to live free or not at all ; that they were 
 the friends, and not the enemies, of the Canadians ; that the taking 
 of the fortresses and armed vessels on the lake, was dictated by ne- 
 cessity ; but that they might place full trust in the assurance that the 
 colonies would pursue no measures whatever, but such as friendship, 
 and a regard for the mutual interests of the two people, might suggest ; 
 and, finally, that they still hoped the Canadians would unite with the 
 colonists in defence of their common liberty. 
 
 This address had the effect its authors desired, at least in that it 
 produced the neutrality of the Canadians. In answer to the instances 
 of the governor, they said, that without regret they found themselves 
 under the English government, and that they should always deport 
 themselves peaceably and loyally : but that being entirely strangers 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 219 
 
 to the controversy arisen between the government and the colonies, it 
 was not for them to undertake to be the judges of it ; that consequently 
 it would in no shape become them to take any part in the quarrel ; 
 that if the government thought proper to arm the militia of the pro- 
 vince, in order to defend it in case of attack, they should give it their 
 cordial assent ; but that to march beyond the frontiers, and attack the 
 neighboring people, they could not consent. These favorable dispo- 
 sitions of the Canadians were a guaranty to the Congress of their 
 security on the part of the north. 
 
 General Carleton, finding the Canadians so decided in their oppo- 
 sition, had recourse to the authority of religion. He therefore solicited 
 Brand, the bishop of Quebec, to publish a mandarnent, to be read from 
 the pulpit, by the curates, in time of divine service. He desired 
 the prelate should exhort the people to take arms, and second the 
 soldiers of the king, in their enterprises against the colonies. But 
 the bishop, by a memorable example of piety and religious modera- 
 tion, refused to lend his ministry in this work ; saying, that such con- 
 duct would be too unworthy of the character of the pastor, and too 
 contrary to the canons of the Roman church. However, as in all 
 professions there are individuals who prefer their interest to their duty, 
 and the useful to the honest, a few ecclesiastics employed themselves 
 with great zeal in this affair ; but all their efforts were vain ; the 
 Canadians persisted in their principles of neutrality. The nobility, 
 so well treated in the act of Quebec, felt obligated in gratitude to 
 promote in this occurrence the views of the government, and very 
 strenuously exerted themselves with that intention, but without any 
 better success. The exhortations of Congress did not contribute 
 alone to confirm the inhabitants in these sentiments ; they flattered 
 themselves, also, that their pacific conduct in so urgent a crisis, and 
 when their junction with the colonies might have been so prejudicial 
 to the interests of England, would determine the government to exer- 
 cise greater mildness towards them, and grant them favors which 
 otherwise they could have had no expectation of obtaining. 
 
 General Carleton, perceiving that he could make no calculation 
 upon being able to form Canadian regiments, and knowing, withal, 
 that there existed in the province certain loyalists, who would have 
 no repugnance to taking arms, and other individuals whom interest 
 might easily induce to enlist as volunteers, resolved to employ a new 
 expedient. He caused the drums to beat up, in Quebec, in order 
 to excite the people to enrol themselves in a corps to which he gave 
 the name of the Royal Highland Emigrants. He offered the most 
 favorable conditions. The term of service was limited to the con- 
 tinuance of the disturbances ; each soldier was to receive two hun- 
 dred acres of land, in any province of North America he might 
 choose 5 the king paid himself the customary duties upon the acqui- 
 sition of lands ; for twenty years, the new proprietors were to be 
 
220 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 exempted from all contribution for the benefit of the crown ; every 
 married soldier obtained other fifty acres, in consideration of his wife, 
 and fifty more for account of each of his children, with the same pri- 
 vileges and exemptions, besides the bounty of a guinea at the time of 
 enlistment. In this manner, Carleton succeeded in gleaning up some 
 few soldiers; but he was reduced to attach much more importance 
 to the movements of the Indians. The governor, and the agents 
 of the king with these savage nations, had pushed their negotiations 
 with so much zeal, that they had at length accomplished a part of their 
 wishes ; having persuaded some of them to take arms in favor of the 
 English party, notwithstanding they had so many times sworn to ob- 
 serve an absolute neutrality ; but savage nations are not more scrupu- 
 lous in keeping faith than the civilised ; and gold, the love of rapine, 
 and thirst of blood, are with them omnipotent. Towards the last of 
 July, arrived, however, in Montreal, colonel Guy Johnson, intendant- 
 general of the king for Indian affairs, accompanied by a great num- 
 ber of chiefs and warriors of the Six Tribes. A solemn assembly 
 was formed, where they appeared as the chiefs and warriors of the 
 confederate Indians ; their troop was considerable. They swore, 
 according to their custom, and in the presence of general Carleton, 
 to support the cause of the king. Such was the first origin of the 
 Indian war. These were the barbarians, who, having joined the 
 troops of general Burgoyne, exercised, two years after, such ravages, 
 and perpetrated such cruelties, as we shall be constrained to relate, 
 in the sequel of this history. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Congress could not overlook in silence the act of 
 conciliation of lord North, without manifesting too great an inflexi- 
 bility, and avowing that the Americans would listen to no accommo- 
 dation. They, nevertheless, were not disposed to take a precipitate 
 resolution on this point, and reflected upon it for the space of full two 
 months. By this delay, they intended to show either a great matu- 
 rity of judgment, or perhaps their indifference towards the act. 
 But what appears more certain, is that the war being commenced, 
 they desired to wait the event of the first actions. The answer 
 could not, in effect, be the same, if victory had crowned their efforts, 
 as in case fortune had favored the English arms. When the conci- 
 liatory act arrived in America, the 30th of May, it is true the affair 
 of Lexington had taken place, and the Americans had acquired in it 
 a reputation for incontestable courage ; but it was no more, in fact, 
 than a warm brush between militia collected in haste, and a detach- 
 ment of regular troops ; not a set battle, from which any prognostic 
 could be drawn relative to the final issue of the war. The Congress 
 saw perfectly well, that it would always be time to enter into a nego- 
 tiation of arrangement ; and, in case of any disastrous event, they 
 wished to reserve a way open to accept the conditions which Eng- 
 land herself had offered. Victory would become of no utility to the 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICA!* WAR. 221 
 
 Americans, if they had commenced by submitting to the terms pro- 
 posed; and ill fortune would have made the conditions of accord no 
 worse. No risk, therefore, was incurred by temporising ; and there 
 might result from it great advantages. But the battle of Breed's 
 Hill entirely changed the state of things. The ardor with which 
 the Americans pressed the siege of Boston, their activity in procur- 
 ing themselves arms and ammunition, the constancy and even alacri- 
 ty they discovered in supporting the hardships of war, and evils 
 produced by the late acts of parliament, rendered their situation 
 much less desperate. If the event might still appear dubious to indif- 
 ferent men, minds strongly excited must have conceived more hope 
 than fear. Accordingly, the members of Congress, encouraged by 
 the favorable aspect of affairs, delayed their answer under pretext of 
 dignity. But at length they proceeded to the examination of the 
 conditions of accord, with a full determination to reject them. This 
 resolution, however, was not without inconvenience ; for, at the very 
 moment they refused all arrangement, they wished to retain the ap- 
 pearance of a desire for the return of concord. It was requisite to 
 color this refusal, and to demonstrate to the eyes of the world, that 
 they rejected not all conditions, but only such as were offered them. 
 They declared themselves of opinion, that the colonies of America 
 were entitled to the sole and exclusive privilege of giving and granting 
 their own money ; that this involved the right of deliberating whether 
 they would make any gift, for what purposes it should be made, and 
 what should be its amount ; which privileges were taken from the 
 colonists altogether, by the resolution of lord North ; that, as the 
 colonies possessed a right of appropriating their own gifts, so were 
 they entitled to inquire into their application, to see that they were 
 not^wasted among the venal and corrupt, for the purpose of under- 
 mining the civil rights of the givers, nor diverted to the support of 
 standing armies, inconsistent with their freedom, and subversive of 
 their quiet ; which right was violated by the resolution in question, 
 since it placed the money voted at the disposal of parliament ; that 
 this proposition was unreasonable, because it could not be known 
 what sum the parliament would exact ; and insidious, because the par- 
 liament itself might accept the trivial grants of one colony, and refuse 
 the considerable offers of another, thus maintaining a good intel- 
 ligence with some, and reducing the others to a state of enmity, in 
 order to compel their compliance with harder conditions, and by the 
 division of the colonies, thus prepare, at its pleasure, the slavery of 
 all ; that the suspension of the right of taxing the colonies, being 
 expressly made commensurate with the continuance of the gifts, 
 these, at the will of parliament, might become perpetual ; a thing that 
 would aim a fatal blow at public liberty ; that the parliament itself 
 was in the established practice of granting their supplies from year 
 to year only ; that even upon the supposition that the proffered 
 
222 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 terms had been as fair and reasonable as tbey were unjust and 
 insidious, the din of arms resounding from all parts, the armies, the 
 fleets that infested and surrounded America, were alone sufficient 
 to render them odious and inadmissible ; that they thought the 
 attempt unnecessary to draw from their hands by force their propor- 
 tional contributions to the common defence, since they had always 
 contributed freely ; that they only were competent judges of the 
 measures proper to be taken in regard to this point, and that they did 
 not mean the people of America should be burthened to furnish sine- 
 cures for the idle or the wicked, under color of providing for a civil 
 list ; that while the parliament pursued its plan of civil government 
 within the limits of its own jurisdiction, they hoped also to pursue 
 theirs without molestation ; that the proposition was altogether unsa- 
 tisfactory; because it imported only the suspension, and not a renun- 
 ciation, of the pretended right of taxation, and because it did not 
 propose to repeal the odious acts of parliament ; that the minister 
 wished to have it believed there was nothing in dispute but the mode 
 of levying taxes, whereas, in truth, their adversaries still claimed 
 the right of demanding arbitrarily, and of taxing the colonies for the 
 full amount of their demand, if not complied with, ; that the English 
 government even claimed a right to alter their charters and funda- 
 mental laws ; 
 
 4 But, when the world reflects,' they added, c how inadequate to 
 justice are these vaunted terms ; when it attends to the rapid and 
 bold succession of injuries, which, during a course of eleven years, 
 have been aimed at these colonies ; when it reviews the pacific and 
 respectful expostulations, which, during that whole time, were the 
 sole arms we opposed to them ; when it observes that our complaints 
 were either not heard at all, or were answered with new and accu- 
 mulated injuries ; when it recollects that the minister himself, on an 
 early occasion, declared, that ' he would never treat with America 
 till he had brought her to his feet,' and that an avowed partisan of 
 ministry has more lately denounced against us, the dreadful sentence, 
 ' delenda est Carthago,' that this was done in presence of a British 
 senate, and, being unreproved by them, must be taken to be their 
 own sentiment ; when it considers the great armaments with which 
 they have invaded us, and the circumstances of cruelty with which 
 they have commenced and prosecuted hostilities ; when these ^things, 
 we say, are laid together, and attentively considered, can the world 
 be deceived into an opinion that we are unreasonable ? or can it 
 hesitate to believe, with us, that nothing but our own exertions may 
 defeat the ministerial sentence of death, or abject submission ?' 
 
 Such were the conclusions of the Congress, relative to the resolu- 
 tion of adjustment of lord North ; they caused them to be published, 
 and distributed in all places. No one can observe the acrimonious 
 style, and the new pretensions of the Americans, without perceiving 
 
HOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 how little they were inclined to concord. Wishing, however, to 
 remove the prejudice resulting to their cause, from the opinion, 
 which began to be general, that they already aimed at independence, 
 they resolved to clear themselves of the blame of not having deigned 
 from the commencement of the controversy, to bring forward any 
 conciliatory proposition ; and intending, perhaps, to reserve a free 
 access with the conqueror, in case of disaster, or perhaps also to 
 preclude the propositions of lord North, which they were determined 
 not to accept, the Congress had it in contemplation to offer the 
 following conditions ; the colonies should not only continue to grant 
 extraordinary subsidies in time of war, but, besides, if allowed a free 
 commerce, they were to pay into the sinking fund, such sum annually, 
 for the space of an hundred years, as at that period would, if faith- 
 fully appropriated, suffice to extinguish the present debt of Great 
 Britain. In case this condition was not accepted, they proposed to 
 stipulate with Great Britain, a compact, by virtue of which, that 
 kingdom should be authorised, for the same term of an hundred 
 years, to make such laws as it might judge necessary, to regulate 
 commerce, and direct it towards the general utility of the empire ; 
 but in such rase, no other pecuniary contribution could be required 
 of them. This proposition, as is seen, implied no new concession ; 
 since, on the contrary, this was precisely the subject in controversy. 
 Some believed, also, that they would have proposed that the parlia- 
 ment should impose a general tax upon all the empire, meaning, 
 upon England, Scotland, and the American colonies, of which tax 
 each of these countries should bear its proportion, according to its 
 faculties. They imagined that this mode of imposition would render 
 "the parliament extremely circumspect upon this point, since it could 
 no longer charge America, without charging England at the same 
 time, and in the same proportion. But the action of Breed's Hill, 
 the rigorous siege of Boston, the ardor of the people, and perhaps 
 the hope, already more probable, of foreign succours, so wrought, 
 that these propositions were soon consigned to oblivion, and the 
 whole mind was given to thoughts of war. 
 
 Hitherto the Congress had made all the dispositions which related 
 either to the support of the war, to the negotiations of alliance with 
 the neighboring nations, or to the justification of their cause with the 
 inhabitants of Great Britain and of Ireland ; they now applied them- 
 selves to the business of establishing the bases of their authority ; of 
 ascertaining how far its limits ought to extend ; and what were its 
 relations with the authority of the provincial assemblies. This fixa- 
 tion of powers was, with good reason, considered as an operation of 
 the first necessity. For, until then, the transactions of the Congress 
 were supported rather upon the opinion of the people, than upon 
 statutes approved by them, or by the assemblies of their representa- 
 tives. They were obeyed, because such was the general inclination. 
 
.224 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 but not because the constitutional laws required it. It was even 
 because it was intended to conduct America to the state of an inde- 
 pendent nation, having its own government, and a supreme magis- 
 trate, that it was desired to direct things gradually towards this 
 object, and to withdraw, little by little, the management of affairs 
 from the local administrations, in order to concentrate it in one only 
 and common point. It was also an efficacious mean of providing 
 that no province, individually, should ever think of detaching itself 
 from the Union, as, in such case, it would become not only unfaith- 
 ful to the others, but also rebellious towards the general government 
 of America. Notwithstanding considerations of such moment, this 
 affair could not be managed without extreme difficulty, on account 
 of the reciprocal jealousies of the provincial assemblies, which were 
 not likely to renounce, but with the utmost repugnance, a part of 
 their ancient authority, to be vested in a new and unusual adminis- 
 tration. If the impulsion of the people had been less general, if the 
 necessity of pursuing the career in which they were already so far 
 advanced, had been less imperious, perhaps the total plan of the en- 
 terprise would have been marred by these partial ambitions. But 
 the die was cast, and it was requisite either to move onward farther 
 than would have been wished, or to return back, much farther than 
 would have been apprehended. It was therefore in the midst of 
 these hopes, and of this necessity, that the Congress drew up and 
 published the articles of confederation ; thus establishing invariably 
 their authority, no longer upon the momentary impetus of popular 
 feeling, but upon laws approved and sanctioned by the general will. 
 
 In the first place, the colonists bound themselves and their poste- 
 rity, for the common defence against enemies, for the protection of 
 their liberty and property, as also of their persons, and of the pros- 
 perity of America. Each colony retained its jurisdiction entire 
 within its own limits, the right of regulating its internal administra- 
 tion, and an independent sovereignty in respect to all its domestic 
 affairs. But, for the more convenient direction of public transactions, 
 each colony was to elect deputies, who should convene in Congress 
 at the time and place which should be appointed by the preced- 
 ing Congress. In ordinary circumstances, the Congress should 
 hold their session successively in each colony, observing a regular 
 rotation. This body should have power to make war and peace, to 
 contract alliances, to adjust controversies between the different pro-* 
 vinces, and to establish colonies wherever it should be thought 
 necessary. The Congress should be authorised to make laws of 
 general utility, and for which the provincial assemblies should not be 
 competent, as, for example, all those concerning the forces of the 
 Union, and the affairs relating to commerce and the mint ; the Con- 
 gress should appoint all the officers, civil and military, of the Union, 
 such as generals, admirals, ambassadors, and others ; the charges of 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 225 
 
 the war, and other expenses of the Union, should be supported by 
 the public treasure, which should be replenished by each colony, in 
 proportion to the number of male inhabitants, from the age of sixteen 
 to sixty years ; the number of delegates per colony, should, in like 
 manner, be determined by that of the male citizens, so that there 
 should be one representative for every five thousand, male individuals ; 
 the deliberations of Congress should be enacted with half the suf- 
 frages, and it should be allowable to vote by proxy ; there should be 
 an executive council, composed of twelve persons, elected without 
 Congress, four of whom should be succeeded every year ; the coun- 
 cil, during the recess of Congress, should superintend the execution 
 of its laws ; the executive decisions being always to be taken by two 
 thirds of the votes ; the same council should be charged with the 
 direction of general affairs, both internal and external ; it should 
 receive all despatches coming from princes and foreign governments ; 
 should prepare matters to be submitted to the consideration of the 
 next Congress ; should fill, during the interval of its sessions, all the 
 offices which should have become vacant ; and should, besides, have 
 power to draw money from the public treasury. It was also regulated, 
 that no colony should make war upon the Indian tribes, without the 
 consent of Congress ; that, consequently, the frontiers and territory 
 of every Indian nation should be acknowledged theirs and respected ; 
 that agents should be established on the part of Congress among the 
 Indian nations, in suitable places, with instructions to prevent frauds 
 and impositions in the traffic with them. It was established as a 
 principle, that the Union should subsist until the terms of arrange- 
 ment proposed to the king, by the preceding Congress, should be 
 accepted by England, the acts prohibitory of American commerce 
 repealed, an indemnity granted for the shutting of the port of Boston, 
 for the burning of Charlestown, and for the expenses of the war ; 
 finally, until the British troops should have entirely evacuated the 
 territory of America. It was added, that when the British govern- 
 ment should have accomplished the foregoing conditions, the colonies 
 would resume their ancient relations of friendship with Great Britain; 
 but that otherwise the confederation should be perpetual. Space 
 was left to accede to the league for the provinces of Quebec, of 
 St. John's, of Nova Scotia, of the two Floridas, and the Bermudas. 
 Thus the Congress laid the foundations of American greatness. 
 
 Meanwhile, the colonies hesitated to accept the articles of confe- 
 deration. North Carolina absolutely refused. Things were not yet 
 arrived at the point of muturity, desirable for the establishment of a 
 perfect union. The people suffer themselves too often to be guided 
 by vain fears, or by vain hopes ; and, at this epoch, the greater part 
 of the colonists still flattered themselves with the possibility of return- 
 ing, some day or other, upon honorable terms, to their ancient 
 footing with Great Britain. It was, indeed, quite evident, to what 
 VOL. i. 20 
 
226 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 object the Congress was tending. They considered reconciliation, 
 if not as absolutely impossible, at least as extremely improbable. 
 And, besides, if there had existed any hope of arrangement, the 
 articles of Union would have enfeebled it greatly, not to say totally 
 extinguished ; and therefore, perhaps, the Congress had proposed 
 them. For, omitting the offensive declarations, the menaces, and 
 the laws contrary alike to the English constitution and to the tenor 
 of charters, this new pretension of indemnities would alone have 
 sufficed to interrupt all approach to reconciliation ; for it could not 
 be presumed that the British government would stoop to such igno- 
 minious conditions. It was therefore manifest, that while the two 
 parties protested their desire to meet each other, they were both 
 exerting all their efforts to render it impossible. It was no less 
 evident, that when in parliament the adversaries of the ministers 
 proposed concessions and terms of arrangement, it was with reason 
 the latter rejected them, saying, that all these conciliatory measures 
 would not only be useless, but even detrimental, because they would 
 encourage the colonists to new demands, less admissible still. If the 
 ministers themselves proposed, afterwards, and carried an act of 
 conciliation, it was only a pretext to divide, and not to reunite. 
 They were therefore in the right, when they resolved to continue the 
 war, at all hazards ; but they were in the wrong, not to carry it on 
 with sufficient means. 
 
 I have no doubt, but, in reading this history, it will be observed 
 with extreme surprise, that, while the people in all the colonies flew 
 to arms, subverted all public order, and exercised every species of 
 hostile demonstrations against the authority of the king, the govern- 
 ors, who represented him, preserving the calm of immobility, took 
 no resolutions proper to reestablish obedience. But if no one of 
 these governors is seen acting in a manner conformable to the import- 
 ance of circumstances, it should be considered that none of them 
 had regular troops at his disposal, to constrain the inhabitants to sub- 
 mission. The only force to which they could have rec.ourse, to 
 maintain the public tranquillity, and carry the laws into execution, 
 was composed of the militia of the country, themselves a part of the 
 insurgent people, and consequently favorable to their cause. It was 
 not in America as in Europe, where a militia, which no longer 
 makes part of the people, but which controls them, and with arms 
 continually in hand, is always ready to execute the orders of the 
 prince. In the English colonies, on the contrary, the militia was 
 not distinct from the people themselves ; and if this support was 
 wanting to the government, it found itself, of necessity, to have none. 
 The governors, however, did what was in their power to defend the 
 authority of the king, each according to his character, and the cir- 
 cumstances in which he was placed. Their efforts had memorable 
 effects, as will be seen by what follows ; they produced the absolute 
 extinction of the royal government. 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 227 
 
 We have already spoken of the misunderstanding which prevailed 
 between the governor, lord Dunmore, and the assembly, and, gene- 
 rally, all the inhabitants of the province of Virginia. New disgusts 
 broke out, upon the arrival of the news from England, of lord North's 
 resolution of accord. It may be said, that an instrument invested 
 with the names of peace and concord, was the occasion, on the 
 contrary, not only of discord, but of open war. The governor, 
 having convoked the assembly, placed this act before their eyes, 
 enlarging greatly upon the goodness of parliament. He also hinted, 
 that the fruit of their compliance would be the abrogation of the 
 laws complained of. But soft words had little influence over the 
 jealous and exasperated minds of the Virginians. The assembly, 
 wishing to broach the quarrel, instead of entering into the discussion 
 of the matter proposed, immediately took up the affair of the arsenal, 
 and demanded its restitution ; but the intervention of the governor 
 being here necessary, they sent him a message, importing that he 
 would be pleased to permit the entrance of this magazine. The 
 altercation now became vehement ; and during the wordy conflict, 
 the people forced the gates of the arsenal, and bore off the arms. 
 The state in which they found them, carried their fury to extremity. 
 The powder was spoiled, the muskets without locks, the cannon, 
 without carriages ; every thing had been plundered or destroyed, in 
 the late disturbances. 
 
 The governor, on seeing the revolt, retired, with his wife and 
 children, on board a ship of war,* anchored near Yorktown, in the 
 river of this name. Previous to his departure, he addressed a mes- 
 sage to the assembly, by which he announced, that in order to with- 
 draw from the danger to which himself and his family were exposed 
 on the part of a furious multitude, he had thought prudent to take 
 refuge in a place of security ; he invited them to continue their busi- 
 ness, while, on his part, he should continue his functions ; and to 
 send him a deputation on board his vessel, whenever they should 
 think it necessary to confer with him upon the affairs of the time. 
 The assembly answered, that they did not believe there existed, 
 among the Virginians, any individual capable of perpetrating the 
 excesses the governor apprehended ; they expressed their regrets 
 that he had not made them acquainted with his fears, before aban- 
 doning the seat of government ; assuring him, that they would have 
 taken all the measures he might himself have propbsed, for his own 
 security and that of his family. Finally, considering the little facility 
 afforded, in such a place, for the transaction of affairs with the requi- 
 site convenience and promptitude, they earnestly requested him to 
 return ; to yield to the impatience of the inhabitants, and dispose 
 them, by this proof of confidence, to order and tranquillity. 
 
 * The Fowey man of war. 
 
228 THE AMERICAN WAfe. BOOK V. 
 
 The governor replied with much bitterness, as the popular move- 
 ments had agitated his mind beyond all reason. He concluded his 
 letter, however, by glancing afresh at the conciliatory resolution, and 
 with the assurance that he should esteem it his felicity to be the 
 instrument of concord between the jarring parts of the British 
 empire. 
 
 This bland conclusion was not sufficient to mitigate the irritation 
 created by the menacing commencement of the letter. Accordingly, 
 the answer of the assembly was more acrimonious still ; as to the 
 act of accord, they replied, it was a vain and insidious measure, 
 which only changed the mode of oppression, without tending to 
 relieve it ; that, consequently, they would not accept it.' 
 
 Such a temper of mind, in both the parties, precluded every 
 glimpse of a better understanding. The assembly, having finally 
 ma'tured the bills and resolves before them, invited the governor to 
 repair to Williamsburgh, in order to pass them. Lord Dunmore 
 replied, that he would not expose his person in the midst of a mad 
 populace ; that they might send him the bills for examination ; that 
 he should be ready to receive the house, at his present residence, for 
 the purpose of giving his assent to such acts as he should approve 
 of. Here ended all correspondence between the governor and the 
 colony of Virginia. If he would not trust himself with the Virginians, 
 they were as little disposed to trust themselves with him. It might, 
 besides, appear strange enough, that, in the midst of so many suspi- 
 cions, the chief citizens of an entire province should go to immure 
 themselves on board a ship of war, completely in the power of a 
 person they looked upon as their enemy, and who might have 
 retained them as hostages for the execution of his ulterior designs. 
 
 The assembly, when informed of the sentiments of the governor, 
 declared publicly, that they suspected the existence of a sinister 
 conspiracy against the people of the colony ; they consequently 
 warned the inhabitants to stand prepared to defend their property, 
 and their rights, still more precious ; they renewed their protestations 
 of fidelity towards the king, of affection for the mother country ; 
 and, adjourning themselves to the month of October, separated. 
 Thus ceased to exist, about the middle of July, the royal govern- 
 ment in Virginia, after having lasted during more than two hundred 
 years, with the tranquillity and happiness of all. 
 
 But arduous toils, and numerous dangers, still awaited the pro- 
 vince. 
 
 The inroads of an enemy so superior in naval force, were to be 
 feared upon the coasts, and upon the borders of all the great rivers 
 which bathe it. Nor were the inhabitants without disquietude, in 
 regard to the slaves, who were extremely numerous, and whom lord 
 Dunmore had given out, he should instigate to revolt against their 
 masters. If this cruel race, and cruelly treated, had joined the 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 229 
 
 loyalists in these first moments, when the Virginian government 
 was still so recent, the most terrible consequences might have re- 
 sulted, and perhaps the total extermination of the province. This 
 consideration decided the Virginians to form a convention, in which 
 they placed great confidence. They proceeded immediately to levy 
 troops, provide munitions, and raise money ; in a word, to take all 
 the measures they believed proper to secure the success of their 
 cause. 
 
 Lord Dun more, finding himself thus expelled from his own 
 government, as well by his personal obstinacy as by the force of 
 things, would not, however, being versed in arms, abandon the hope 
 of recovering his authority. Independent of his character, (pertina- 
 cious, and capable of the greatest resolutions) he was also animated 
 by a desire to perform some brilliant achievement for the service of 
 his king, and encouraged by the idea that some violent movement 
 would inevitably discover itself among the slaves. He likewise 
 believed, that the number of the loyalists was considerable ; and that 
 their party would not fail to put themselves in motion, when he 
 should make his appearance upon the coasts, and even in the heart 
 of the province, with a formidable squadron. This hope, if not 
 absolutely chimerical, was at least very slightly founded ; but it is an 
 error common to all times, and to all generals, to build extravagantly 
 upon the intestine divisions of revolted subjects. All the auxiliaries 
 that joined the governor, consisted in those individuals, who, having 
 incurred the suspicion of the people, could no longer reside with 
 safety in the province, and a certain number of slaves, of a profligate 
 stamp. 
 
 With this troop, and with the frigates upon that station, he flattered 
 himself he should be able to make some impression of importance 
 in the adjacent country. He omitted no exertion to increase the 
 strength of his squadron, and the number of his men ; and especially 
 to approach nearer to the land. Having accomplished this purpose, 
 by joining to his frigates a great number of light vessels, he began to 
 move, atone time showing himself in this part, at another in that ; but 
 of himself he was not able to produce any considerable effect. He 
 expected, but in vain, that the people would rise, and take arms in 
 favor of the king. Reduced to his own forces, he commenced hos- 
 tilities which more resembled the attacks of pirates, than a fair and 
 regular war. It was, in truth, a shocking spectacle, to see the 
 governor of a province rushing upon all points to lay it waste, and to 
 wrest by violence the provisions of which he had need ; while the 
 people, who recently had obeyed his orders, endeavored to repulse 
 him. But the Virginians alleged, that their conduct was sufficiently 
 authorised by that of the royal troops, who under pretext of self- 
 preservation, meditated the destruction of the whole province. They 
 complained, that persons obnoxious to the governor was seized, and 
 
230 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK T. 
 
 confined on board ships ; that their plantations were ravaged, their 
 houses fired, their negroes carried off; devastations that were never 
 executed without effusion of blood. The Virginians marched for 
 the protection of the rivers and coasts, a few corps of militia, re- 
 cently taken into pay by the provincial convention. The war that 
 ensued was the more cruel, as it was useless, and could have no 
 other effect but that of still more inflaming and exasperating the 
 minds on both sides. 
 
 The governor, having surprised the town of Hampton, situated 
 upon the bay of the same name, devoted it to the flames. His wish 
 had been to take up his quarters, and assemble a considerable force 
 at that point ; but the Virginians came up in multitude, and forced 
 him to reembark. 
 
 Lord Dunmore proclaimed martial law ; the effect of which would 
 have been to suspend all civil authority in the province. He exhorted 
 the loyalists to repair to the royal standard ; to retain in their hands 
 the contributions due to the crown, as well as other taxes, until the 
 reestablishment of peace. Moreover, he declared free all slaves or 
 servants, black or white, belonging to rebels, provided they should 
 take arms and join the royal troops. 
 
 This proclamation, and especially the clause concerning slaves, 
 proved that lord Dunmore was a man extremely deficient in prudence 
 and moderation, but produced none of the effects he had expected. 
 In the colonies, and even in all other countries, an universal cry 
 arose against a measure which tended to disturb society in its very 
 foundations, to destroy domestic security, to engender mortal suspi- 
 cions, and to excite a race, naturally ferocious, to vengeance and to 
 murder. In fact, this step of the governor was not merely useless, 
 it was pernicious ; it irritated the minds of the greater number, and 
 gained over none. 
 
 Meanwhile, lord Dunmore again came on shore, and occupied 
 Norfolk, an important city, situated upon the banks of Elizabeth 
 river. In this place and its vicinity, a great number of loyalists 
 resided. Some hundreds of these, and of the negroes, joined the 
 governor, and gave him, in this part, the superiority over the enemy. 
 Some of the provincial militia, having made a show of resistance, were 
 routed without difficulty. He had already conceived the hope of 
 reconquering the province, and of replacing it under the authority of 
 the king. 
 
 The administration of the state of Virginia directed all their 
 attention upon this point, where they perceived, with reason, the 
 germ of a war more formidable ; and resolved to avert the evil, by 
 a prompt remedy. They despatched, therefore, with all speed, for 
 Norfolk, a regiment of militia, and a detachment of minute-men, 
 under the command of colonel Woodford. The governor, apprised 
 of this movement, very prudently occupied a strong position upon 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 231 
 
 the north bank of Elizabeth river, called Great Bridge, a few miles 
 from Norfolk. This point was situated upon the direct route of the 
 provincial troops. Here he promptly threw up works on the Norfolk 
 side, and furnished them with a numerous artillery. The imreuch- 
 ments were surrounded on every part with water and marshes, and 
 were only accessible by a long dfke. As to the forces of the 
 governor, they were little formidable ; he had only two hundred 
 regulars, and a corps of Norfolk volunteers ; the residue consisted 
 in a shapeless mass of varlets of every color. The Virginians took 
 post over against the English, in a small village, at cannon shot 
 distance. Before them they had a long narrow dike, the extremity 
 of which they also fortified. In this state, the two parties remained 
 for several days, without making any movement. Lord Dunmore, 
 having at length perceived that this delay was prejudicial to him, as 
 well as beneficial to the Americans, who abounded in provisions, and 
 received every day new reenforcements, found a motive in his per- 
 sonal courage, and perhaps in his contempt for the enemy, sufficient 
 to order the attack. He hoped to be able thus to open himself a 
 passage into the heart of the country. Accordingly, the 9th of 
 December, before day, he directed captain Fordyce to assault the 
 enemy, at the head of a company of grenadiers. 
 
 They marched boldly towards the American works, captain For- 
 dyce leading the vanguard, and lieutenant Bathurst the forlorn hope. 
 Captain Leslie followed, with a detachment of three hundred blacks 
 and whites, and two hundred soldiers of the line. All the American 
 camp instantly flew to arms, and prepared to defend themselves. 
 The action continued for a good space of time, with incredible obsti- 
 nacy. At length, captain Fordyce having been killed, at a few paces 
 from the intrenchments, after exhibiting prodigies of valor, and a 
 great part of his troop being either wounded or slain, the British fell 
 back upon the bridge. The artillery of the redoubt prevented the 
 Americans from pursuing. The negroes behaved very shabbily, and 
 saved themselves by flight. The Americans treated the English 
 fallen into their power with humanity, but the loyalists with rigor. 
 This feat, on the part of lord Dunrnore, savored more of the rash 
 general, than the soldier of courage. 
 
 Experience having convinced the governor that he could not hope 
 to make progress in this part, he abandoned Great Bridge, and retired 
 to Norfolk, leaving a few pieces of cannon in the power of the enemy. 
 Finally, not thinking himself secure in this city and the adjacent 
 country, he took the resolution to repair to his ships again, the number 
 of which was increased by the junction of all those that were found 
 in the port of Norfolk. He could not, in fact, have too many ; for 
 many of the loyalists, forced to quit their country, sought refuge on 
 board the fleet, bringing with them their furniture and most valuable 
 effects. The provincials occupied Norfolk, which they iound almost 
 
232 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 deserted ; the greater part of the inhabitants having departed in the 
 squadron of the governor. 
 
 While these events were passing upon the coasts of Virginia, a 
 project of great importance was planned ; this was to raise in arms 
 the inhabitants of the parts situated in the west of the colonies, but 
 particularly of Virginia and of the two Carolinas, which were known 
 to be well affected towards the royal cause. It was also hoped that 
 the Indians would take the field, and not only harass the rear of the 
 provincials, but even that, increasing in number and force, they would 
 be able to traverse the provinces, and coalesce with lord DUD more 
 upon the coasts. A certain John Connelly, an enterprising, audacious 
 man, born in the county of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, was consi- 
 dered a fit instrument for the execution of thrs project. Having con- 
 ferred, .with lord Dunmore, he received from him the most brilliant 
 promises, and the most ample authority, to enable him to accomplish 
 the objects of the mission which was confided to him. In pursuance 
 whereof, he repaired to the banks of the Ohio, in order to sound the 
 dispositions of the Indians, and of the loyalists who inhabited this 
 part of the frontiers. Having succeeded beyond his hopes, he 
 returned to make report to the governor. It was arranged, that the 
 garrisons of the vicinity, and principally those of Detroit and fort 
 Gage, in the country of the Illinois, should lend him assistance ; and 
 it was expected, also, that the officers of the garrisons of Canada 
 would second him. It was understood, that whenever his troops 
 should have made their preparations, they were to assemble at Pitts- 
 burgh, and thence, passing the Alleganies, scour Virginia, and effect 
 their junction with lord Dunmore at the city of Alexandria, situated 
 upon the banks of the Potomac. Fortune had shown herself propi- 
 tious to these first essays. Connelly had passed several times without 
 accident from one place to another, and kept his correspondence with 
 the loyalists and Indians a profound secret. On his way to Detroit, 
 he had already reached the extreme -frontier of Maryland, near the 
 town of Tamar, rejoicing within himself at having escaped so many 
 perils, when he was detected, and arrested. The papers of which 
 he was the bearer were published by order of Congress. Thus this 
 mysterious plot, which lord Dunmore, for want of open arms, had 
 been reduced to concert, proved like several others, completely 
 abortive ; its sole results were greater animosity on the part of the 
 colonists, and the annihilation of his own influence. 
 
 Meanwhile, Norfolk was menaced with a disastrous event. 
 Although the greater part of the loyalists of this city and its environs, 
 had sought refuge in the governor's fleet, there had, nevertheless, 
 remained a considerable number of them ; either on account of their 
 reluctance to leave their properties, or their dread of the sea and of 
 famine, or perhaps because they hoped to find more lenity on the 
 part of their fellow-citizens, who made profession of liberty, than 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 233 
 
 they had shown towards them, when they had been superior in this 
 country. 
 
 But it is certain that the patriots, on acquiring the ascendency, 
 made them feel it cruelly, and overwhelmed them with all those vexa- 
 tions of which there are so many examples in civil wars, between 
 men of different parlies. The governor, transported with rage, and 
 touched by the piteous cries of the loyalists, panted to avenge them. 
 This reciprocal hatred was daily exasperated by the rencounters 
 which took place very frequently between the two parties ; the pro- 
 vincials watching at all the points of the shore to prevent the royal 
 troops from landing, in order to forage in the country, and the latter, 
 on the contrary, eagerly spying every means to plunder provisions 
 upon the American territory. The multitude of mouths to be fed, 
 kept them continually in a famishing state. A ship of war arrived 
 in the meantime, in the bay of Norfolk. Lord Dunmore sent a flag 
 on shore to apprise the inhabitants, that they must furnish provisions, 
 and cease firing, otherwise he should bombard the town. The pro- 
 vincials answered only by a refusal. The governor then resolved to 
 drive them out of the city with artillery, and to burn the houses 
 situated upon the river. He sent in the morning to give notice of 
 his design, in order that the women, children, and all except com- 
 batants, might retreat to a place of safety. The first of January, 
 1776, the frigate Liverpool, two corvettes, and the governor's armed 
 sloop, opened a terrible fire upon the city, and at the same time a 
 detachment of marines landed and set fire to the houses. The 
 flames spread with rapidity, the conflagration became general, all was 
 consumed. Finally, the provincials themselves fired all the adjacent 
 country, that nothing might fall into the hands of the enemy, and to 
 deprive the royal troops of this position. 
 
 Such are the effects of civil fury ; such the results of human 
 discords. But man is too often ambitious or deceived ; and if all 
 ages are fertile in the authors of tumults and wars, these artisans of 
 mischief are no less fertile in expedients to clothe their projects with 
 plausible pretexts; and thus the unfortunate people, victims of every 
 calamity, are frequently ignorant of the real origin of the woes that 
 overwhelm them. In this manner was destroyed one of the most 
 opulent and flourishing cities of Virginia. 
 
 Having described the state of the province of Virginia, after the 
 royal government had ceased, the order of history requires that we 
 should relate what took place at this epoch in the other provinces. 
 We have already mentioned the ardor manifested by the inhabitants 
 of South Carolina, on their receiving intelligence of the affair of Lex- 
 ington, that a provincial convention was formed, that its members 
 entered into a confederation, and organised corps of infantry and 
 cavalry, for the defence of the colony. 
 VOL. i. 30 
 
234 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK T. 
 
 In the midst of this general movement, governor Campbell arrived 
 in the province, who, notwithstanding the public agitation, was received 
 with the attentions due to his rank. He conceived the idea of employ- 
 ing the militia, as a counterpoise to the regiments on pay, which had 
 been levied by the convention or congress of the province, and to 
 oppose against the convention itself, the provincial assembly. He 
 hoped by this management to divide the patriots, and overturn their 
 projects. Accordingly, of his own authority, he issued commissions 
 to the officers of the militia, and convoked the assembly according to 
 ancient forms. But in both these measures he failed of success ; the 
 militia continued firm in the cause of the people, and the assembly 
 refused all his propositions so rigidly, that he was necessitated to dis- 
 solve it. He appeared disposed to remain peaceable for some time; 
 but it was known that he maintained a secret intelligence with the 
 loyalists, who were very numerous, and principally upon the frontiers, 
 towards the mountains and lakes. To unmask him, the patriots resort- 
 ed to the agency of a certain Adam Macdonald, captain in a provin- 
 cial regiment, a man entirely devoted to their interests. He pre- 
 sented himself to the governor under the name of Dick Williams, and 
 in the character of an emissary of the loyalists, commissioned to pro- 
 test their fidelity, and receive his orders. 
 
 The governor, delighted at this overture, answered with unrestrict- 
 ed confidence. Macdonald came to make full report before the 
 general council ; the agitation was vehement. The council deputed 
 to the governor some of its members, and with them Macdonald him- 
 self, to request that he would show them the despatches he had 
 received from England. Campbell firmly refused. A motion was 
 made to arrest him, but it was not adopted. The governor became 
 intimidated, and retired on board a corvette at anchor in the port. 
 He took with him the seal of the province. The council sent a mes- 
 sage, entreating him to return ; he would not. Thus ceased the royal 
 government in South Carolina ; all public authority was transferred 
 from the ancient administrations, to the provincial convention, the 
 committee of safety, and other popular establishments, to whose power, 
 the people fixed no other limits, except that they should protect the 
 republic from all detriment. 
 
 But in the meantime, governor Campbell was not inactive. He 
 knew the royalists were numerous in certain parts of the province, 
 and he hoped that by exciting them, and erecting a standard, round 
 which they could rally, he should be able to profit essentially by their 
 succours. In the interior of the country, there existed a set of men 
 called regulators. They had arrogated, in 1770, the right of executing 
 the laws against malefactors; and they exercised their functions so 
 openly, that of their own authority they inflicted corporal punishments 
 upon such as incurred their animadversion. Lord Montague was 
 seat to repress so odious an enormity, and his severity effectually re- 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 233 
 
 established the authority of the laws among this unruly generation. 
 But the regulators had not forgotten the chastisements their unlawful 
 combination had drawn down upon them, nor would they ever consent 
 to adhere to the Congress and other popular administrations, which 
 they deemed equally as irregular and illegal. In the same places were 
 found many Dutch and Irish, who held their lands from the bounty 
 and liberality of the king. Either out of gratitude, or the fear of 
 losing their estates, if they should join the patriots, they stood firm in 
 their loyally, and were strenuously opposed to the new government. 
 Their number was increased by certain other Irish, who had retired 
 from the disturbances in the northern provinces, into this. 
 
 Governor Campbell had it in mind, to employ these individuals for 
 the accomplishment of his designs. He circulated arnona; them that 
 the American colonies were altogether too feeble to resist the power 
 of Great Britain ; that the whole question turned upon a trivial duty 
 on tea, which they were not accustomed to use ; that the inhabi- 
 tants of the coast opposed this impost, in order to have tea at a low 
 price, without regarding that their obstinacy deprived the inha- 
 bitants of the upper country of a multitude of articles the most 
 necessary to life ; that the single expense of maintaining the provin- 
 cial regiments, greatly exceeded the amount of all the taxes imposed 
 by the parliament. The ill humor of these foreigners was still in- 
 creased by the violences of the patriots, who insisted, whether will- 
 ing or not, that they should accede to the confederation. And thus 
 a great number that would have remained neutral, were constrained 
 to throw themselves into the opposite party. In no part of the pro- 
 vince were the loyalists so numerous, as in the space comprehended 
 between the Broad and Saluda rivers. They refused to execute the 
 resolutions of Congress, to subscribe the league, and to make levies 
 of soldiers. The patriots, desiring to proceed peaceably, sent into 
 those places two men of the greatest authority, William Henry Dray- 
 ton and William Tennent. All their efforts and arguments, to dissi- 
 pate the suspicions which had arisen among these people, produced 
 little effect, if any. The rivalship between the two parties became 
 every day more rancorous. At length, they flew to arms ; and they 
 were soon encamped, the one in front of the other. The wiser citi- 
 zens interposed, to prevent the effusion of blood ; and, after some 
 days of negotiation, a compact was concluded, by which the loyalists 
 pledged themselves to remain neuter. But these hopes of tranquillity 
 were soon destroyed, by a certain Robert Cunningham, a turbulent 
 spirit, and one of the most influential leaders of the loyalists ; he 
 industriously scattered the elements of discord. From all parts they 
 rushed to arms anew. The Congress, wishing to smother these first 
 sparks, ordered major Williamson, commanding the militia, to march 
 against the seditious ; but the latter were superior in number. The 
 moment was critical ; the Carolinian congress, having in front a Bri- 
 
* 
 
 36 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 tish fleet and army, and a party of disaffected citizens in rear, could 
 have no hope of victory. Nevertheless, to disconcert the plan of 
 their adversaries, they marched towards the suspected places detach- 
 ments of militia and of troops, under the command of colonels Rich- 
 ardson and Thompson ; who were joined by colonels Rutherford and 
 Polk, at the head of the militia of North Carolina. The loyalists, 
 scattered, without a ralying point, and without leaders of reputation, 
 transacting every thing with fear and hesitation, were forced to receive 
 the terms of their conquerors. 
 
 This first expedition kept them quiet for a long time ; they made 
 no further movement until the English arms acquired the superiority 
 in Georgia and South Carolina. 
 
 The inhabitants of the latter province being totally decided for 
 war, all their attention was given to making the preparations that might 
 enable them to carry it on with success. They resolved, in the first 
 place, to provide themselves with powder, of which they were almost 
 entirely destitute. They knew that an English vessel, laden with a 
 great quantity of it, was then at anchor upon the bank, called the 
 bar of St. Jlugustine, upon the coast of East Florida. Some fear- 
 less patriots, accustomed to the sea, made for the ship with extreme 
 celerity, boarded her, and became possessed of fifteen thousand 
 pounds of powder ; which, with equal good fortune, they transported 
 safe into Charleston. This acquisition was of singular utility in their 
 great need. They supplied, from it, the militia of Massachusetts, as 
 well as the army which soon after undertook the expedition of Ca- 
 nada. 
 
 But, there was still in the power of the king, fort Johnson, erected 
 upon James's Island, which is situated in front of Charleston; this 
 fortress, therefore commanded the city. Colonel Motte having landed 
 upon the island in the night with a strong detachment of new levies, 
 occupied the fort without obstacle ; the garrison, as too feeble to 
 resist, had retired on board the ships of war. 
 
 The chiefs of the people prohibited all persons whatsoever from 
 supplying water or provisions to the ships of the king, otherwise than 
 from day to day. The English blockaded the port, and made a great 
 number of prizes, to the infinite prejudice of the city. This induced 
 colonel Moultrie to occupy Point Huddrel, with a detachment of pro- 
 vincial troops. He planted there a battery of heavy cannon, which 
 constrained the English to retire from this position and gain the open 
 sea. Thus the city was liberated for the present, from the block- 
 ade of the British squadron. But to prevent its renewal, it was 
 resolved to erect fortifications upon Point Huddrel, which defends the 
 entrance to Charleston, by the channel of Hog Island ; and to strength- 
 en the works of fort Johnson, which secures the port on the side of 
 James's Island. A new fort was also constructed in this Island, west 
 of fort Johnson ; then another upon Sullivan's Island, which received 
 the name of Moultrie. 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 237 
 
 The provincial militia exercised, and the regiments upon pay in- 
 creased their numbers every day. In all parts of the province pre- 
 parations were made to repulse the attacks of the enemy. 
 
 However sincere was the zeal of the inhabitants to defend their 
 country, it was stimulated, also, by the resolutions of the general 
 Congress. They had resolved, that if Charleston was attacked by the 
 English, three regiments of infantry should be maintained in the pro- 
 vince at the expense of the Union ; that if the convention or committee 
 of safety should judge it necessary to seize or destroy any vessel what- 
 soever, it might do so, and rely upon the approbation of Congress. 
 They recommended also, the erection of forts and batteries, in such 
 places as should be thought most suitable. 
 
 Some agitation also began to manifest itself about this time in North 
 Carolina, a province in which the loyalists were perhaps more nume- 
 rous than in any other, with the exception, however, of New York. 
 The governor, Martin, was an active man, who studied continually to 
 devise new expedients to increase the party of the king. The patri- 
 ots were especially' solicitous with respect to the inhabitants of the 
 upper countries of the colony, all Scotch and Highland emigrants, 
 with whom it was ascertained that the governor held continual cor- 
 respondence. The Congress had not neglected to take all proper 
 measures to disconcert these projects. They had exhorted the par- 
 tisans of liberty to form themselves into corps of militia, which, in 
 case the provincial convention should see fit to order levies, should 
 be considered as making part of the general army, and received into 
 the pay of the Union. 
 
 The desires of the Congress were accomplished, if not with unani- 
 mous consent, at least with all requisite promptitude. A provincial 
 convention was formed, which assumed the authority of the ordinary 
 assembly of representatives. The committees of safety, and other 
 popular institutions, were created as usual. The governor took 
 umbrage at these measures, although he was not intimidated by 
 them ; and, in order to be able to sustain a first attack, and to give 
 time, in case of emergency, for the loyalists of the upper parts to 
 come to his assistance, he fortified, and furnished with artillery, his 
 residence at Newbern. The people rose and seized six pieces of 
 these cannon ; the governor then fled precipitately for refuge to fort 
 Johnson, upon Cape Fear river. The provincials, fearing he might 
 fortify himself, and rally his forces at this point, in order to keep an 
 open communication for the troops which should be sent against the 
 colony, resolved to dislodge him. It also appears that they were 
 apprehensive, lest the governor should proclaim the liberty of the 
 negroes, in order to employ them for the reestablishment of the royal 
 authority. Time was precious. They assembled their forces at 
 Wilmington, an important city of the province, and gave the com- 
 mand of the expedition to colonel Ashe, who had passed from the 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 service of the king, into that of the people. They marched imme- 
 diately to fort Johnson ; but the governor, not choosing to await so 
 formidable an attack, had retired on board a ship of war. The fol- 
 lowing night, colonel Ashe entered the fort and reduced it to ashes. 
 He afterwards ravaged the country, that it might furnish nothing to 
 his adversary. The governor was declared an enemy to America, 
 and accused of a design to raise the blacks against their masters. 
 This imputation was not without foundation. He answered with a 
 writing of excessive length, which he caused to be circulated in the 
 province. But the provincial Congress pronounced this proclama- 
 tion an infamous libel, and caused it to be publicly burnt by the hand 
 of the executioner. 
 
 They drew up, about the same time, a long address to the people 
 of Great Britain, full of the usual protestations. All these events 
 singularly agitated the people ; but a new incident soon carried their 
 fury to extremity. In the garden and cellars of the governor, it was 
 discovered that he had secreted arms, powder, balls, and other mu- 
 nitions. The provincial Congress decreed a levy of one thousand 
 regular troops, and another of three thousand minute-men. They 
 created bills of credit for their support. The general Congress, 
 wishing to give more stability to their authority, and knowing of what 
 importance it was to propitiate the regulators and mountaineers that 
 inhabited the upper countries, sent them two ministers of the gospel, 
 'to expound the nature of the present controversy between Great' 
 Britain and the colonies. The chiefs of the people neglected no 
 means proper to forward their cause. Arms and money were pro- 
 vided, soldiers were exercised, the militia were organised, the torpid 
 or lukewarm were stimulated and encouraged. The popular leaders 
 in this province, surrounded by enemies, manifested an activity 
 always increasing with the obstacles they had to surmount. 
 
 In Pennsylvania, affairs were transacted with greater moderation ; 
 either because the character of the inhabitants was more pacific, or 
 that the governor was endowed with greater prudence. However, 
 the provincial assembly, which continued to sit in Philadelphia, and 
 all the inhabitants generally, appeared not to want activity, in their 
 preparations for defence ; the militia were exercised with great dili- 
 gence and success. It was perceived that the breadth and depth of 
 the Delaware, which bathes the walls of Philadelphia, exposed the 
 city to imminent danger. The English ships might come thus far up 
 the river, and cause infinite mischief hot only to the city and pro- 
 vince, but even to the entire confederation. It was therefore resolv- 
 ed to obstruct the passage, by sinking in the channel a construction 
 of heavy timber, called a chevaux-de-frise. It consisted in two 
 immense beams, laid across the bed of the river, parallel-wise, and 
 at a suitable distance apart ; they were locked with traverse timbers ; 
 and upon their upper surface, rose, with a certain inclination towards 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 239 
 
 the current of water, two other heavy beams, armed on the top with 
 tusks of iron, to pierce the vessels that should attempt to ascend. 
 All these frames, ponderous of themselves, and charged besides 
 with enormous stones, could not be easily broken, subverted, or dis- 
 placed. Ingeniously contrived, as well as skilfully executed, they 
 were of no little utility, in the course of the war. The Pennsylva- 
 nians were also very diligent in providing themselves with arms and 
 ammunition. The provincial assembly had appointed a committee 
 of superintendence, to see that the arms were made with a desirable 
 promptitude, and the requisite perfection. The gunsmiths, and 
 o'her armorers, were continually watched and stimulated. The 
 assembly also decided, that several battalions should be levied and 
 completely equipped. A great quantity of powder was manufactured 
 in the environs of Philadelphia ; a single mill supplied five hundred 
 pounds a week. Every thing, in brief, tended towards war. The 
 governor was unable to resist an inclination so universal ; he had no 
 royal troops at his disposal. 
 
 The province, and particularly the city, of New York, found 
 themselves in a painful situation. They were exposed on all parts, 
 to the insults of the British fleet ; the city had even still a garrison, 
 though feeble, of royal troops. New reenforcements were expected 
 from England ; and it was known that all the corps that arrived in 
 America, landed at New York, as their destined place of arms. 
 The delegates of the province were therefore instructed, to move 
 the Congress to prescribe the course to be pursued, in case of the 
 arrival of the troops that were already embarked from Ireland for 
 America. The Congress answered, they should stand upon the 
 defensive, allow the English to land, and permit them to occupy the 
 barrarks, provided they should behave themselves peaceably ; not, 
 however, to suffer that they should erect fortifications, to interrupt 
 the communication between the city and country; if they' should 
 employ force, to resist them with force ; to transport the munitions 
 of war into the interior of the province ; to designate places of 
 refuge for the women and children ; finally, the Congress exhorted 
 all the inhabitants to arm, and hold themselves in preparation for , 
 every event. 
 
 But it was not long before they were relieved from these anxious 
 apprehensions. The royal troops arrived ; but, instead of landing 
 at New York, they went on shore at Sandy Hook, whence, by the 
 orders of general Gage, they reembarked for Boston. The battle 
 of Breed's Hill had enfeebled the garrison of that city, and new 
 soldiers were needed to fill up the companies. At length, the 
 detachment itself, which for so long a time had been stationed at 
 New York, retired on board a ship of war which was anchored in 
 the port. The city, thus delivered entirely from the presence of 
 the royal troops, was replaced absolutely at its own discretion. 
 
 
240 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V* 
 
 At this epoch, governor Tryon arrived from London at New York. 
 He was a man of an active genius, an ardent character, and possess- 
 ed of great influence in the province. He was received with mark- 
 ed respect. His continual efforts in favor of the royal cause, were 
 generally crowned with success. Tranquillity, for a certain time, 
 remained undisturbed. Then followed a quarrel, in which a royal 
 ship fired upon the city with balls and grape-shot, because the inha- 
 bitants had seen fit to transport artillery from one place to another. A 
 great number took refuge in the country. The governor demanded 
 a conference with the convention, the committee of safety, and the 
 officers of the militia. It was granted. He expressed the deepest 
 concern at the present discord ; he begged they would use prudently 
 the power which they had entire ; he observed, that violent mea- 
 sures would only widen the breach, and hazard the destruction of the 
 city. This example shows clearly to what terms was reduced, and 
 upon how frail a basis reposed, the royal authority at that time in 
 America ; since even in the province of New York, that of all which 
 numbered the most loyalists, the governor was driven to such extre- 
 mity, that, instead of commanding, he was constrained to pray. 
 Hence also it is manifest, that Tryon had been sent, not to govern a 
 province that would no longer obey him, but to intrigue clandestinely, 
 to sow division, to corrupt the good, and dispense to the wicked 
 their hire. 
 
 How opposite such conduct was to the dignity of a powerful 
 nation, and how proper to render it contemptible in the estimation 
 of the universe, every one can imagine for himself. It would have 
 been a much more seemly resolution, if the governor, upon ascer- 
 taining the situation of affairs, should have withdrawn from the pro- 
 vince, and left it altogether in the power of the patriots ; for to 
 govern without commanding, and to command without being obeyed, 
 was a degradation of his rank, and of the royal authority itself. 
 
 The general Congress had become greatly alarmed at the artifices 
 of governor Tryon. They feared he would at length succeed in 
 exciting such malignant humors, as might issue in fatal results. They 
 thought it expedient to prevent the evil ; and accordingly recom- 
 mended, that, in all the colonies, every person, of whatever name or 
 condition, whose opinions afforded motives of suspicion, should be 
 arrested, and detained under a sufficient guard ; this was the law of 
 suspected persons. The deputies of New York sent copies of it 
 into their province. At this news, gpvernor Tryon, having doubts of 
 some strange resolution, promptly took refuge on board an English 
 vessel moored in the port ; he carried off the seal of the province. 
 But, towards the close of the year, with the approbation of the king, 
 he addressed a proclamation to the inhabitants of New York, to 
 apprise them of the dispositions of the prince, and the earnest desire 
 he entertained that some honorable way of reconciliation between the 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. . 241 
 
 two parties might be devised. Thus vanished even the shadow of 
 royal authority in this colony, after its action had in reality ceased 
 long since. Such was the success of the hopes the ministers had 
 placed in the manoeuvres and intrigues of governor Try on, whom 
 they had considered as the most proper instrument to act upon a 
 province of such principal importance. 
 
 It had recently been divided by the provincial convention into a 
 certain number of districts, each destined to furnish a company. The 
 organisation of these companies was the object of a special regulation. 
 But this appearance of ardor was in many far from being sincere. 
 Even members of the provincial Congress presumed to say, openly, 
 that they would not receive the bills of credit ; and that, when the 
 English troops should have arrived, they would join the royal standard. 
 The provincial soldiers themselves were emulous in deserting. So 
 efficacious had been the whispers of Tryon ; or, perhaps, so great 
 were the avarice, the fear, or the loyalty, of the inhabitants. Admit- 
 ting only the latter reason, it would be impossible for the colonists of 
 New York to clear themselves of the reproach of hypocrisy and of 
 cowardice, for not having dared openly to follow the royal banners, 
 and for having, on the contrary, pretended a flaming zeal for the 
 cause which the greater part of the Americans had espoused. But 
 simulation and perfidy are never more frequent than in the political 
 revolutions of empires. Those who lately served kings, afterwards 
 serve republics ; and ardent republicans become all at once royalists, 
 according to the dictates of their ambition or their avarice. Such is 
 the miserable condition of human nature, that it is never consistent 
 with itself; and when a rnan abandons one party to coalesce with 
 another, he is often more actuated by a culpable motive than a virtu- 
 ous conviction. 
 
 Maryland followed the example of the other provinces. The 
 authority of the ordinary assembly was here also transferred to a con- 
 vention, which assembled in the city of Annapolis. It proposed the 
 articles of a league, to be composed of its own members, and all the 
 freemen of the province. They pledged their faith reciprocally, and 
 all towards America, to persist, according to their power, in opposition, 
 whether with arms or with commercial restrictions. They decreed, 
 that forty companies of minute-men should be levied ; and that all 
 the inhabitants of the province, freemen, from sixteen to fifty years, 
 except only the ministers of religion, and physicians exercising their 
 profession, individuals in the service of the governor, minute-men, 
 artillery-men, and those prevented by their 8 religious opinions from 
 bearing arms, should attach themselves to some one company of 
 militia. Hence it appears how calm, how remote from all blind 
 transport, was this people ; since, in such a crisis, individuals, reputed 
 most essential to the general utility, were exempted from military 
 service; and since religious opinions were also perfectly respected, 
 
 VOL. I. 31 
 
242 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 
 
 The regular organisation of the militia ascertained the pay of the 
 officers and that of the soldiers. A cornmitte of safety was invested 
 with the direction of affairs relating to the militia and rninute-men ; 
 and even with the power of taking, dining the recess of the conven- 
 tion, the measures deemed necessary for the good of the province. 
 Subaltern committees were established, for local superintendence 
 upon every point, and for the reciprocal transmission of useful intelli- 
 gence. Finally, the convention created two hundred and sixty-six 
 thousand six hundred and sixty-six dollars, in bills of credit, in order 
 to defray the charges of the militia. Meanwhile, the people had 
 already forced the gates of the provincial arsenal, and seized the 
 arms and ammunition, which were found there in considerable 
 quantity. 
 
 In New Jersey, the royal authority still subsisted in its ancient 
 forms ; but it was without power, since it was without arms. Accord- 
 ingly, the real directing authority was that of the people ; which had, 
 for its support, both arms and the general opinion. The militia 
 organised and exercised themselves, according to the regulations 
 published by the provincial Congress. The people had taken pos- 
 session of the public chest ; a sum of twenty to thirty thousand 
 pounds sterling it contained, was appropriated to pay the militia. 
 Besides the provincial militia, the general Congress invited the con- 
 vention of New Jersey to levy, without delay, two battalions, at the 
 expense of the public treasure ; the officers were to have the same 
 pay as those of the confederate army, and the soldiers to be engaged 
 but for one year. In the meantime, governor Franklin convoked the 
 provincial assembly. In the speech he addressed them, he expressed 
 his grief at the present troubles ; and announced, that the command- 
 ers of the British fleets upon all the American coasts had orders to 
 act offensively against every port or place whatsoever, in which the 
 officers of the king should be insulted, or in which troops should be 
 levied, forts erected, or the public magazines plundered. He spoke 
 also of the desire of independence ; and added, that, as to the safety 
 of his own person, he would refer it to their good faith. The assem- 
 bly, in their answer, expressly denied any thought of independence ; 
 they assured the governor, that he might be tranquil with respect to 
 his safety ; and, finally, that as to the disturbances, they deplored 
 them sincerely, but could no nothing to remedy them, since their 
 cause was in the acts of parliament. 
 
 The two provinces of Connecticut and Rhode Island were inha- 
 bited by men naturally the zealots of liberty ; and, not having the 
 restraint of a royal governor, as by their charters they had the pri- 
 vilege of electing their own, they had long since provided themselves 
 with men, arms, and munitions. These measures of safety were the 
 more essential, as the vicinity of the English troops of Boston alarm- 
 ed their suspicions ; and they saw enemy vessels continually upon 
 
BOOK Y. THE AMERICAN WAR. 243 
 
 
 
 the coasts, employed in carrying off provisions, not only for their 
 own use, but also for that of the garrison besieged in that city. Be- 
 sides this, captain Wallace, commanding a ship of the king, with 
 some other armed vessels, greatly harassed their commerce, captur- 
 ing daily merchant vessels belonging to one or other of these pro- 
 vinces. At length, he made a furious attack upon the town of 
 Bristol. The houses, the stores, the churches, suffered excessively 
 from the fire of his artillery ; which continued till the inhabitants, at 
 evening, consented to supply with fresh meat this man without. pity. 
 But these hostilities committed by the vessels of the king against a 
 defenceless town, did but increase the already too violent disgusts of 
 the Americans, who complained of them with much asperity, in a 
 multitude of writings, both public and private. 
 
 But Wallace was not of a character to allow himself lightly to be 
 diverted from his resolutions ; and perhaps he was also spurred on 
 by necessity. The blarne should not be imputed to him, but to those 
 ministers who by their rigorous counsels had provoked the war, with- 
 out having prepared the requisite means to sustain it ; consequently, 
 as it was impossible to fight in the open field, to conquer, it became 
 necessary to pillage, in order to live. Captain Wallace, therefore, 
 employed himself with great activity, in ravaging, by his piracies, 
 the coasts of Connecticut and Rhode Island. The army of Massa- 
 chusetts sent to the succour of the Rhode Islanders a detachment of^ 
 soldiers, under the command of general Lee. This man, of a violent 
 character, and little accustomed to respect the laws and public order, 
 when it was in question to favor the American revolution, immediate- 
 ly compelled the people he came to defend, to bind themselves, by 
 the most terrible oaths, to break off all communication with the 
 instruments of ministerial tyranny, vulgarly called, said the words of 
 the oath, the troops and fleets of the king ; not to lend them any 
 assistance whatever ; to denounce traitors before the public authori- 
 ties ; and to take arms for the defence of American liberty, as often 
 as it should be required of them by the general Congress, or the 
 provincial magistrates. The Congress disapproved this conduct of 
 general Lee ; at which he gave himself little concern. He declared 
 it pusillanimous to respect the civil laws, in the midst of arms ; and, 
 in times of revolution, he considered all means legitimate, by which 
 he might attain his ends ; a manner of acting, which, if it conducts 
 one revolution to its object, leaves, and even prepares, as experience 
 demonstrates, all the elements of another to follow it. 
 
 The assembly of Rhode Island decreed, that those of the inhabit- 
 ants of the colony who should hold intelligence with the British 
 ministers or with their agents, or should supply the armies or fleets 
 with arms or military or naval stores, or should serve as pilots to the 
 English ships, should incur the pain of death, and the confiscation of 
 their lands and effects. They pronounced the confiscation of the 
 
244 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 estates of some individuals, whom they declared enemies to the 
 liberties of America. They emitted the sum of twenty thousand 
 pounds sterling, in bills of credit. These measures, and the pre- 
 sence of general Lee, secured the tranquillity of Rhode Island. 
 
 Governor Wentworth still continued in New Hampshire ; but, 
 little by little v the patriots acquired the superiority, and his authority 
 declined in proportion. Fearing, at length, some vexatious acci- 
 dent, he withdrew into the castle denominated William and Mary. 
 
 The popular administrations had also succeeded the ancient autho- 
 rities, in Georgia. The partisans of the king were, however, the 
 prevailing number ; and the general Congress had sent thither ? by 
 way of precaution, a battalion armed at the expense of the Union. 
 But, before it had reached its destination, a very sanguinary action 
 had happened in the city of Savannah, between the patriots, who 
 occupied the fort, and the royal troops, who assaulted and retook it. 
 The capitulation was observed, and the vanquished had not to com- 
 plain of any cruelty. The patriots were, however, predominant in 
 the rest of the province ; and gallantly prepared themselves to 
 recapture, by storm, the citadel of Savannah. They were better 
 armed, and more united, than their enemies, who were unprovided 
 with munitions, and found themselves dispersed in different places. 
 
 Thus ceased, as we have related, the royal authority in the differ- 
 ent provinces. It was replaced, progressively, by that of the 
 people ; that is, by the congresses dr conventions extraordinary, 
 that were formed in each colony. But this was deemed insufficient, 
 by those who directed the affairs of America. Their real object 
 being independence, and the present state of things, as irregular 
 and precarious by its very nature, leaving a way open of arrange- 
 ment with England, and of return to the ancient connexion and 
 dependence, they desired that such a syste'm should be established 
 in each province as should have the appearance of a permanent con- 
 stitution, in order to satisfy the world that the Americans were 
 capable of governing themselves by their own laws. But the chiefs 
 of the popular party had many difficulties to surmount in the execu- 
 tion of this design, notwithstanding the ardor which manifested itself 
 in all parts to second their operations. The greater number approv- 
 ed resistance, but were opposed to independence, or at least shud- 
 dered at the idea of openly asserting it. For this reason, those who 
 had the supreme direction of affairs, fearful of injuring their cause 
 by too much precipitation, resolved to proceed with extreme circum- 
 spection ; and marched up to their object, always protesting that 
 their efforts were aimed in quite another direction. 
 
 It was highly important to commence the execution of this plan, 
 with the provinces which discovered the greatest aversion towards 
 England. It was hoped, that when it should be accomplished in 
 one or more, the others would soon imitate the example. No pro- 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 245 
 
 vince appeared more suitable to give it than that of Massachusetts. 
 The provincial Congress of this colony issued circulars, for the elec- 
 tion of representatives, authorised to constitute the form of govern- 
 ment. Two hundred delegates assembled at Watertown, and adopt- 
 ing the ancient forms of the British constitution, resolved themselves 
 into an ordinary assembly, or house of representatives, and assumed 
 all the authority attributed by the ancient statutes to these assemblies. 
 They afterwards established a permanent council, to assist the go- 
 vernor in his deliberations. Thus the royal authority was converted 
 at first into tumultuary popular authority, and at length into regular 
 popular authority. All these operations were performed, as they 
 said, not with any view to independence, but in order to induce the 
 English to consent to a just and honorable arrangement. One of 
 the first acts of this house was to raise the sum of thirty thousand 
 pounds sterling, by means of a tax ; which excited a dudgeon the 
 more intense, as the people had persuaded themselves that since 
 they were in insurrection to avoid paying taxes to England, they 
 ought at least to be excused from paying any to their own govern- 
 ment. But the other colonies discovered great backwardness to 
 follow the route marked out by Massachusetts ; either because its 
 views appeared too manifestly aimed at independence, or, that, being 
 placed in peculiar circumstances, the other colonies, differently 
 situated, did not think proper to tread in its steps. But the Ameri- 
 can chiefs, far from being 'discouraged, resolved to employ the 
 authority of the general Congress. They procured from New 
 Hampshire new instructions to the delegates of that province, requir- 
 ing them to take the sense of Congress respecting the mode of 
 administering justice, and the internal government of the colony. 
 This discussion excited violent debates ; many members perceived 
 the scope of it but too distinctly. The patriots, however, aided by 
 circumstances, and their own intrepidity, at length prevailed. It 
 was decided, that the provincial convention of New Hampshire 
 should be invited to convene representatives of the people, from all 
 the towns, that they might take such measures, and pass such laws, 
 as they should judge best calculated to secure peace and order in 
 the province, during the present contest. But the provincial con- 
 vention, either from impatience, or in order to inspire greater interest, 
 by a demonstration of glowing zeal, had anticipated the resolution, 
 and the circulars for the election of representatives were already 
 expedited. They assembled at Exeter, took the name and cha- 
 racter of the house of representatives, and established the usual 
 council. 
 
 The example of Massachusetts and New Hampshire, appeared 
 still not sufficient to decide the other provinces to take the same 
 resolutions. The inhabitants of the other colonies were not exempt 
 from jealousy towards those of New England. It was therefore 
 
246 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Y. 
 
 desirable that the plan proposed should be executed in some one of 
 the central provinces. For this purpose Virginia was the best 
 adapted, as well on account of its extent and power, as by reason of 
 the political shocks it had recently experienced, since lord Dunmore, 
 by the proclamation of martial law, had caused the entire cessation, 
 in that province, of all civil authority on the part of England. The 
 general Congress, therefore, made, with respect to Virginia, the same 
 resolutions as in the case of New Hampshire. 
 
 Among the members to whom this business was referred, Samuel 
 Adams merits to be remarked, who labored in it with distinguished 
 ardor, and appeared to esteem its success a personal triumph. 
 
 At this epoch, it was learned by the news from England, that the 
 government had disdained to make answer to the petitions of Con- 
 gress, addressed to the king, and transmitted by Penn, the late 
 governor of Pennsylvania. It was understood further, that none of 
 the ministers had condescended to ask him any questions relative to 
 the affairs of America. This was an unequivocal proof of their 
 obstinacy, and irrevocable resolutions. The animosity of the colo- 
 nists became, in consequence, more violent, and the enterprise of 
 the authors of independence infinitely more easy. They declared, 
 in all places, that nothing could be hoped for any longer from the 
 English government ; and that the only way of safety which remain- 
 ed, was to display formidable forces, to shake off an odious yoke, 
 and learn to walk without leadingstrings. 
 
 This discourse had no success with the general assembly of Phila- 
 delphia, who, though inferior to none in their zeal for resisting the 
 extraordinary laws of parliament, would hear no mention of inde- 
 pendence. They manifested their discontent, by enjoining it upon 
 their deputies to the general Congress, to oppose every proposition 
 that should tend towards a separation from the parent state, or any 
 change in the form of government. In the midst of such conflicting 
 efforts, America moved onward to independence. 
 
 But it is time to return to the war that was carried on under the 
 walls of Boston. The Americans had to contend with two capital 
 difficulties ; the one was the want of powder, which still continued, 
 notwithstanding all the efforts used to procure a sufficient supply ; 
 the other was the approaching expiration of the term for which the 
 soldiers were enlisted. Either persuaded that the war would be of 
 short duration, or jealous of standing armies, the colonists had 
 engaged their troops but for one year. They were therefore in 
 danger of seeing the whole army disbanded, at the conclusion of the 
 present year, and the siege thus raised in a day. To remedy, hi 
 the first place, the scarcity of powder, as their country could not 
 furnish it in sufficient quantity, they determined to exert all their 
 efforts to procure it from foreigners. Several fast-sailing vessels 
 were sent to the coast of Guinea, whence they brought home 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 247 
 
 immense quantities, having purchased it of the European ships em- 
 ployed in that trade. The Philadelphians, knowing the favorable 
 dispositions of the inhabitants of the Bermudas, and their great want 
 of provisions, despatched thither a large brig, and the Carolinians a 
 corvette, which brought away about one hundred and ten casks of 
 powder. The assembly of Massachusetts prohibited the consump- 
 tion of it in firing at game, or in rejoicings. Then only began to be 
 less felt the defect of this first instrument of war. It remained to 
 obviate the inconveniences of the expiration of the soldiers' term of 
 service ; the Congress sent a deputation to the camp, in order to 
 concert with general Washington the most efficacious means to pre- 
 vent the dissolution of the army. The deputies were all men of 
 distinguished sagacity ; and, among the most conspicuous for author- 
 ity and reputation, was doctor Benjamin Franklin. They managed 
 this negotiation with such address, that almost all the troops consent- 
 ed, but not without extreme difficulty, to continue in the pay of 
 the Union. 
 
 The Congress ordained, besides, that the besieging army should 
 amount to the number of more than twenty thousand men ; and that 
 each colony should levy battalions, at the expense of the continent. 
 
 About this time Dr. Church, first physician of the army, was de- 
 clared traitor. He kept up a secret correspondence within Boston. 
 Being detected, he was brought before the house of representatives, 
 whereof he was a member. He did not deny, but said he had only 
 acted for the good of the country. Unable to prove it, he was 
 expelled the assembly. Some persons pretended that this whole 
 affair was but an artifice. The Congress decreed that the accused 
 should be confined in the prisons of Connecticut. 
 
 General Gage returned to England, having been recalled by the 
 king. His conduct had not answered the expectation of the govern- 
 ment ; he had employed the ways of mildness, when he should have 
 displayed force ; and violence, when persuasion would have sufficed. 
 He arrived in America, accompanied with general affection ; he 
 left it abhorred ; perhaps less through his own fault than that of the 
 ministers, who, in place of rigorous decrees, should have sent pow- 
 erful armies ; or, instead of armies, conciliatory conditions, consonant 
 with the opinions of the Americans. But men commonly know 
 neither how to exert all their force, nor to surmount the shame of 
 descending to an accommodation ; hence delays, hesitations and half 
 measures so often prove the ruin of enterprises. William Howe, a 
 commander much esteemed for his talents, and distinguished for his 
 birth, succeeded general Gage. 
 
 Washington found himself, at that time, surrounded with many and 
 serious difficulties ; they proceeded from the organisation of his army; 
 and increased, every day, in proportion as the first ardor of his troops 
 abated. Every hour it became more evident, that the success of 
 
24S THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK V. 
 
 wars resides not in popular impulses, but in good arms, discipline, 
 and obedience ; things tbe American camp was far from offer- 
 ing ; and especially the two last. One principal vice was this; 
 the greater part of these troops not having been raised by authority 
 of Congress, but by that of the provincial assemblies, their organisa- 
 tion, instead of being uniform, presented an excessive variety in the 
 formation, equipment, rank, pay, discipline, and, generally, iu all that 
 relates to military service. It is easy to conceive how much it must 
 have suffered from such a disparity. Washington had placed great 
 dependence upon the troops of Massachusetts, not only as they were 
 the most numerous, but also as he believed them animated with that 
 zeal which distinguished their province, and therefore qualified to un- 
 dertake and support whatever might contribute to the success of the 
 war. The general was much deceived in his expectation. The 
 soldiers of Massachusetts, guided by the enthusiasm of liberty, had 
 themselves elected their own officers, a thing incompatible with 
 discipline ; these officers not being respected, they exacted obedience 
 in vain. It must be admitted, moreover, that some of them degrad- 
 ed themselves by a rapacity which fell indiscriminately upon private 
 as well as public property. They clamored liberty, in order to be 
 able, without restraint, to satiate their incredible avarice. The state 
 of affliction in which their country was plunged, far from touching 
 them with compassion or concern, seemed rather to increase in them 
 their infamous propensity for pillage. This disastrous scourge has 
 at all times been one of the first results of political revolutions. The 
 most depraved, the most profligate men, while they profess the most 
 ardent love for the public good, are even those who, under this veil, 
 abandon themselves without shame to the thirst of rapine that con- 
 sumes them. In this disorder, the voice of good citizens is not heard 
 because the wicked are the loudest in their protestations of the same 
 zeal; and the wicked cannot be repressed, because their services 
 are wanted. Another vice of the American army was that each 
 colony, and not the general Congress, paid, clothed, and victualled 
 its own troops ; which resulted in a confusion extremely prejudicial 
 to good order and discipline. As yet it had not been thought of, or, 
 perhaps, in the midst of so many different interests, it had not been 
 possible to create a commissary or intendant-general, having charge 
 of all these details of administration. The disorder was greater stilL 
 Some American generals, dissatisfied with the promotions made by 
 Congress, had retired disdainfully to their homes. Maladies, also, 
 had found their way into the camp, and especially the dysentery, a 
 pest so fatal to armies. The close of autumn already had rendered 
 the cold very sensible; the soldiers suffered severely, from wMrof 
 barracks. The Congress, however, had not neglected this point ; 
 but the contractors, after having received the necessary funds, fur- 
 nished nothing; and, according to their custom, exclaimed every 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 249 
 
 where that they were not paid. Thus all the wrongs appeared to 
 rebound upon the government ; so industrious is this race of men in 
 creating confusion, in order to veil their juggling operations ! Never- 
 theless, Washington, by his prudence and by his authority, provided 
 for all wants. If he acquired an imperishable glory, in having con- 
 ducted the present war to a happy conclusion, praises not inferior 
 are assuredly due him for having kept together an army composed 
 of so many different elements, and beset by so many afflicting wants. 
 The latter success is not less honorable, and perhaps of more difficult 
 attainment, than victory itself. 
 
 The Americans, to whom the spectacle of an army was entirely 
 new, came from all the environs, and even from remote parts, to be- 
 hold it. Men and women arrived in throngs at the camp of Boston, 
 and demonstrated a lively satisfaction at the martial air of their fellow- 
 citizens. The soldiers felt their courage revive, and the inhabitants 
 their hopes. The Indians themselves were 'attracted. Distrustful 
 and incredulous by nature, they wished to ascertain with their own 
 eyes the truth of what they had heard related. They were received 
 with particular civility. In order to amuse the Americans, or to 
 create a high opinion of their strength and address, they gave fre- 
 quent representations of feasts and combats, after their mode. The 
 mutual expressions of benevolence, the familiarity that ensued, and 
 the presence of the numerous battalions of the Americans, which 
 held the British troops locked up within the walls of a city, made 
 such an impression upon the Indians, that, notwithstanding all the 
 seductions and all the importunities of the English, they generally 
 testified a great repugnance to follow their banners. The colonists 
 observed these sentiments with no little satisfaction. 
 
 Although no action of moment was engaged about Boston, yet 
 warm skirmishes happened frequently, in which the Americans 
 acquired new intrepidity and love of glory.** Washington ardently 
 desired that his troops should often encounter the enemy, in these 
 miniature battles, that their energy might not languish from inaction, 
 and that they might become familiar with the din of arms, and the 
 face of the enemy. 
 
 Meanwhile, *the distress in which the garrison of Boston found 
 itself, increased from day to day. The supplies procured by the 
 English vessels, in their excursions upon the neighboring coasts, were 
 altogether inadequate to the exigencies of a necessity so extreme. 
 The inhabitants had removed their s;rain and cattle to inland places ; 
 and what remained they resolutely defended with arms. Nor could 
 the English have much hope of drawing provisions from the adjacent 
 islairos, or from other parts of the American continent, still subject 
 to the king, since they were themselves in want. This scarcity was 
 produced by a decree of Congress, which prohibited all exportation 
 of provisions or merchandise from the colonies towards Canada. 
 VOL. i. 32 
 
250 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V, 
 
 Nova Scotia, the island of St. John, Newfoundland, and the two 
 Floridas, as well as to the places where the English carried on their 
 fisheries. It often happened, that the parties landed by the latter, to 
 forage upon the coasts of Massachusetts, were attacked and repulsed 
 by the provincials. The English marine had orders to treat as 
 enemies the places that should resist the authority of the king. Not 
 content with resisting, the inhabitants of Falmouth, a flourishing ma- 
 ritime town of Massachusetts, had molested a ship laden with the 
 effects of some loyalists. The English bombarded it, and also 
 landed a detachment, which reduced it to ashes. 
 
 The destruction of Falmouth provoked a very energetic resolution 
 on the part of the assembly of Massachusetts. A short time before, 
 they had ordained the armament of several ships, for the protection 
 of the coasts. Then, exercising sovereign power, they decreed that 
 letters of mark and reprisal should be granted ; and that courts of 
 admiralty should be created, to judge of the validity of prizes. 
 They declared, moreover, that their intention was merely to defend 
 their coasts ; and that no vessels were to be seized, but such only 
 as should be laden with provisions for the soldiers who made war 
 against the Americans. 
 
 Not long after, the general Congress itself, perceiving the neces- 
 sity of intercepting the English navigation, and of protecting the 
 coasts of the continent, and also observing the success of the cruisers 
 of Massachusetts, decreed that a fleet of five ships of thirty-two 
 guns, five others of twenty-eight, and three of twenty-four, should 
 be constructed and armed ; one in New Hampshire, two in Massa- 
 chusetts, one in Connecticut, two in Rhode Island, two in New 
 York, four in Pennsylvania, and one in Maryland. The command 
 of this squadron was given to commodore Hopkins. 
 
 The Congress appeared to hesitate as to granting letters of mark 
 and reprisal. They decided, however, for a measure, which, though 
 in name less hostile, yet in reality produced the same effects. They 
 authorised their ships to capture all those which should attempt to 
 lend assistance to>the enemy, in any mode whatsoever. They also 
 created courts of admiralty. 
 
 Thus, little by little, they drew into their hands the entire sove- 
 reign authority. The Americans made incredible despatch in equip- 
 ping their ships ; they soon swarmed in the neighboring seas, and 
 took from the English an immense number of prizes, who, little sus- 
 pecting so bold a sally, saw themselves, with confusion, surprised 
 upon an element, of which, until then, they had with reason consider- 
 ed themselves the absolute masters. The activity of this new 
 marine was no less beneficial to the Americans, than fatal to>*tbeir 
 enemies. The British government, informed of the distress to 
 which the garrison of Boston was reduced, had embarked, at a pro- 
 digious expense, an immense quantity of oxen, and all sorts of live 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 251 
 
 cattle, of salt meat and of vegetables, to victual a place of such im- 
 portance with all expedition. 
 
 Contrary winds, in the first place, retarded the transports at sea, 
 beyond the expected term ; the cattle died, the vegetables perished. 
 The residue at length arriving upon the coast of America, became 
 almost entirely the prey of the American ships, and that often under 
 the very eyes of the British commanders, who, either becalmed or 
 opposed by the winds, were unable to succour them. At Boston, 
 wood was totally wanting ; the government, in order to remedy this 
 deficiency, had embarked in this convoy a large quantity of coal. 
 The greater part fell into the power of the Americans ; thus, the 
 garrison, and even the inhabitants of Boston, in the midst of the 
 most rigorous season, found themselves absolutely destitute of fuel. 
 Nor did fortune show herself only propitious to the Americans in 
 their efforts to intercept the means of subsistence, which had been 
 sent from England for the garrison ; she delivered also into their 
 hands the arms and munitions of war, of which they were themselves 
 in the most urgent, need. 
 
 Pressed by a necessity continually increasing, general Howe had 
 already sent out of Boston, and caused to be transported to the 
 neighboring shores, more than seven hundred useless mouths. It 
 was said at the time, that among those individuals were found several 
 diseased with the smallpox. If the fact be true, as least it cannot 
 be thought to have been the result of an odious design to infect the 
 American camp ; the mind of general Howe being certainly alto- 
 gether incapable of such an atrocity. It is true, however, that many 
 Americans both credited and published it. The assembly of Mas- 
 sachusetts, either believing these rumors, or wishing them believed, 
 decreed all the precautions usual in similar cases. Meanwhile, in 
 order to procure fuel, general Howe was constrained to demolish 
 several houses in Boston ; for the light vessels of the Americans 
 cruised so actively along the coasts, that all hope of procuring either 
 wood or coal from the neighboring towns had vanished. 
 
 Meanwhile, the house of representatives of Massachusetts, created 
 fifty thousand pounds sterling in bills of credit, and knowing how 
 naturally men allow themselves to be guided by words and images, 
 they caused the bills to be decorated with great care. Their emblem 
 was an American, holding in the right hand a sword, around which 
 were incribed these Latin words, ' Ense petit placidam sub libertate 
 quietemJ With the left, he supported the motto, l Magna ChartaJ 
 and at the foot, * J\lade in defence of American liberty.' The House 
 also ordered, that the arrny should be supplied with fuel. But it 
 seemed that they did these things with a certain reluctance, and very 
 ill grace ; impatience or avarice had sensibly chilled the zeal of 
 these patriots, of late so ardent. General Lee, accustomed to 
 express himself without any sort of reserve, was not sparing of 
 
252 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK V. 
 
 censure towards them ; he openly called them narrow and pusillani- 
 mous souls, who, apprehensive of losing popular favor, wanted cou- 
 rage to take a vigorous resolution, or to strike a decisive blow. The 
 Congress, meanwhile, decreed, that by virtue of the law of retaliation, 
 any harsh treatment which should be inflicted upon those among the 
 Americans who might fall into the power of the enemy, should be re- 
 visited upon those partisans of ministerial oppression, whom the for- 
 tune of war might place in their hands. This question of the recipro- 
 cal treatment of prisoners of war, had given birth to violent debates 
 between the one party and the other. We have letters written upon 
 this subject, in a very animated style, to each other, by generals 
 Gage and Washington. Though it is probable that the wrongs might 
 have been mutually exaggerated, it is certain that the laws of war 
 were not observed towards the prisoners, and that much inhumanity 
 was manifested in the proceedings against them. Can it excite our 
 astonishment ? Are not these the ordinary fruits of civil war ? 
 
 Such was, about the close of the year J775, the political and mil.i- 
 tary situation of the province of Massachusetts, and such the events 
 which took place under the walls and in the vicinity of Boston. 
 Those who occupied this city were afraid to venture out, and every 
 day experienced a more afflicting dearth of provisions and firing ; 
 while those without made no attempt to attack them, believing them- 
 selves secure of an eventual triumph by simple perseverance. 
 
 But the most important expedition of all this year was incompara- 
 bly the invasion of Canada, by the American troops. The Congress 
 had reflected, that it was not assuredly, without views of great inte- 
 rest, that the ministry had sent for governor in this province, general 
 Carleton, a man of resolute character, vast genius, and brilliant name 
 for failitary achievements. He was invested, as we have seen, with 
 such extensive powers as no governor before him had ever, offered 
 example of. It was known that he exerted all his efforts to stir the 
 Canadians and Indians, and stimulate them to arms against the colo- 
 nies. Though at the commencement he had found great repugnance 
 among the first, it was to be feared that, by employing address and 
 authority, he might succeed, at length, in drawing them to his standard. 
 The dispositions of the people of Canada were not unknown ; always 
 French at heart, and even somewhat fickle. It was known, also, that 
 they cherished a sullen discontent on account of the act of Quebec ; 
 which, though favorable to their religion, replaced them, however, in 
 their ancient dependence towards the nobles, whom they detested. 
 It was therefore essential to take advantage of their present senti- 
 ments, before Carleton should have gained them. It was hoped that 
 when the Americans should have penetrated into Canada, the inhabit- 
 ants would not hesitate to espouse their cause,, excited on the one 
 hand by their hatred towards the nobility, and reassured on the other 
 by the moderation which the colonists had generally manifested in 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 253 
 
 matters touching religion. The province of Canada was, besides, 
 unfurnished with troops of the line; they had all been called to Bos- 
 ton. Moreover, the Congress had been informed, that in the follow- 
 ing spring the government was to make a grand effort in this province ; 
 that numerous forces, arms, and munitions, would be poured into it, 
 in order to attack the colonies in the back ; an operation, which, if not 
 seasonably prevented, might have fatal consequences. The colonists, 
 assailed at the same time in front and rear, could not have expected 
 to resist. 
 
 The design of an expedition to Canada was also encouraged by 
 the happy success of the enterprise of Ticonderoga, and of Crown 
 Point, which had opened for the Americans the gates of this pro- 
 vince. Occasion could never be more propitious ; the English troops, 
 shut up in Boston, and occupied with their own defence, were in no 
 situation to carry succours into a part so remote from the provinces 
 of the confederation. But it was to be feared, that longer delays 
 would afford time for the British ministry to make the necessary pre- 
 parations to overpower the colonies by a single effort, and reduce 
 them to their former dependence. Here, also, another essential con- 
 sideration presented itself. In the origin of popular -movements, the 
 chiefs should endeavor to achieve some brilliant enterprise, in order 
 to maintain the excitement of minds, otherwise they run the risk of 
 seeing the sudden extinction of the enthusiasm they have kindled ; 
 and the epoch of the return of order is always that of the downfall of 
 agitators. In perilous enterprises, attempted by insurgent people, 
 hope and fear are created and annihilated with equal promptness. 
 The more just they believe their cause, the more strenuously they 
 defend it ; and they incline to believe it just, as it proves successful. 
 According to all these considerations, the expedition of Canada was 
 decided. Prudent men, however, could not shut their eyes upon 
 the numerous difficulties it presented. This was no longer an ad- 
 hering to the defensive, but, on the contrary, a proceeding the most 
 offensive, against a prince to whom fidelity was still protested, even 
 carrying arms into one of his provinc.es, which had in no shape de- 
 manded the succours it was pretended to offer it. This was not 
 merely exciting the peaceable and uncomplaining subjects to revolt 
 against their lawful sovereign, but also violently occupying their coun- 
 try, and dragging them by force into sedition. 
 
 Was it not to be feared, that an enterprise so audacious would dis- 
 cover too openly the intentions of the general Congress ; and that 
 then, those of the colonists who combated with sincerity to obtain the 
 revocation of the oppressive laws, at the same time abhorring the idea 
 of a total separation, and even desiring to resume their former rela- 
 tions with Great Britain, would immediately abandon a cause which 
 would no longer be theirs ? Many members of Congress were not 
 without apprehensions of losing, by the execution of this design, the 
 
254 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 favor which a great number of the inhabitants of England, and many 
 members of parliament, had hitherto manifested towards the Ameri- 
 can cause. From offended subjects, should the colonists become 
 dangerous enemies; from oppressed inhabitants, oppressive soldiers; 
 from citizens alarmed at the shadow of tyranny, the insatiable invaders 
 of a peaceable province? Prudence would also suggest, that the 
 fear of seeing pillaged or destroyed the effects and the merchandise 
 belonging to England, at this time largely accumulated in Canada, 
 and especially in the city of Quebec, could not fail to alienate the 
 minds of all the parties interested. But it was said, on the opposite 
 side, that, since arms had now been taken up, and the first blood 
 already effused, to persist in a strictly defensive war was to allow 
 the enemy a manifest advantage, who had not the same scruples; 
 that, seeing hostilities were commenced, it was essential to prosecute 
 them with all possible vigor; and that certainly a more sensible blow 
 could not be struck at the enemy, than this of assaulting him in his 
 weakest part. 
 
 ' Does any one imagine,' said the partisans of this system, ' that 
 England is about to perplex herself with this distinction of operations 
 defensive, and operations offensive ? Her hand will visit vengeance 
 upon us, wherever it can reach us. With arms alone, and used too 
 with vigor and gallantry, not by timorous counsels, can we hope to 
 avert the impending tempest of perdition. The enterprise proposed 
 offers all the probabilities of success ; when we shall have obtained it, 
 those who still hesitate, even those perhaps who blame, will have 
 vanquished all their doubts. In whatever man undertakes, there is 
 always a grain of uncertainty, a particle of danger ; but generous 
 minds are not to flinch at this. The ancient adage should not be for- 
 gotten, he that acts not when he can, acts not when he would. 
 
 4 Let us be persuaded, finally, that the eloquent orators of the two 
 houses of parliament, either from love of liberty, as they pretend, or 
 at least from ambition and from the desire to thwart the ministers, will 
 not abstain from defending, and even extolling, our cause, when we 
 shall have done much more than attack the province of Canada.' 
 
 The resolution having been carried in favor of the expedition, 
 the Congress were not tardy in taking all the measures proper to se- 
 cure its success. Three thousand soldiers, partly inhabitants of New 
 England and partly of New York, were selected for the enterprise. 
 They were commanded by the two brigadier-generals, Wooster and 
 Montgomery, under the direction of major-general Schuyler ; these 
 three officers enjoyed the public confidence unlimited. As, in order 
 to reach the heart of Canada, it was requisite to traverse lake Cham- 
 plain, the river Sorel, and the river St. Lawrence, so broad and deep 
 under the walls of Quebec, orders had been given to construct, rafts 
 at Ticonderoga and at Crown Point, in- order to convey the troops 
 wherever it might be thought necessary. The country into which it 
 
BOOK T. THE AMERICAN WAR. 255 
 
 was purposed to enter not making part of the American Union, and 
 governing itself by its own laws, it could not be hoped that its inhabit- 
 ants would receive the bills of credit which were current in the colo- 
 nies ; and, on the other hand, the idea was insupportable, that the sol- 
 diers should live at discretion, in a country it was desired to gain and 
 conciliate. Consequently, the Congress made an effort to glean 
 together the sum of fifty thousand dollars in specie. It was also pru- 
 dent, to avoid being taken in rear, to secure the friendship of the In- 
 dians that inhabited the banks of the Mohawk, which empties into the 
 Hudson river, a little above Albany. For the same reason, general 
 Schuyler had remained in that city, in order to cultivate a good under- 
 standing with those tribes, with whom he possessed a powerful in- 
 fluence. General Montgomery had already repaired to Crown Point, 
 with a part of the army, and was expecting the arrival of the residue. 
 Governor Carleton, who was much on his guard, seeing himself me- 
 naced by a superior force, reflected, that if he could defend against 
 the Americans the entrance of the river Sorel, it would be impossible 
 for them to penetrate into Canada. He accordingly caused to be 
 constructed and armed a large brig, with some vessels of less force, 
 and intended to station them at the outlet of the lake into the Sorel ; 
 hoping thus, and with reason, to interdict the passage, with effect, to 
 the Americans. General Montgomery was informed of it ; and, per- 
 ceiving all the importance of this project of Carleton, determined to 
 prevent it, by moving rapidly with the few troops he had, towards the 
 Sorel. Upon his arrival there, he proceeded to occupy lie aux Noix, 
 a little island, situated upon the entrance of the river, near the lake. 
 In the meantime, general Schuyler arrived from Albany, after having 
 left the necessary orders for marching :*he troops of the expedition 
 to He aux Noix. Here the two generals having met. addressed a 
 proclamation to the Canadians, exhorting them to join the Americans, 
 in order to defend their liberties. They declared they entered their 
 country not as enemies, but as friends and protectors, coming only to 
 combat against the British garrisons. Then, in order to unite force 
 with demonstrations, they determined to approach fort St. John, 
 which, situated upon the left bank of the Sorel, commands it entirely, 
 and closes the passage towards the river St. Lawrence. The Ame- 
 ricans moved, therefore, but without artillery, towards St. John, and 
 landed at a mile and a half distant from the fort, in a marsh, through 
 which they marched in good order, with a view to reconnoitre the 
 place. In their progress, they had to sustain a furious attack on the 
 part of the Indians, who attempted to oppose their fording a river. 
 Having repulsed them, they, in the course of the night, established 
 themselves in sight of the fort, and began to throw up works ; but 
 having learned that the fort was in a respectable state of defence, and 
 not hoping to carry it so promptly, they returned, the day following, 
 to He aux Noix, where they resolved to wait for reenforcements and 
 
256 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 artillery. Meanwhile, to interrupt the communication for the ships of 
 governor Carlelon from fort St. John with the lake, they obstructed 
 the channel of the river, here very narrow, with a chevaux-de-frise. 
 
 General Schuyler had returned to Albany, in order to terminate 
 the treaty with the Indians, and to accelerate the arrival of succours 
 at He aux Noix. But affairs, and a severe malady, detained him in 
 that city ; and thus the entire conduct of the Canadian expedition 
 passed into the hands of general Montgomery, an officer endowed 
 with all the capacity desirable. He endeavored, in the first place, 
 to detach the Indians from the party of the English, and to engage 
 them to remain neuter ; he succeeded in this point, without much 
 difficulty. Then, after the arrival of his reenforcements and artil- 
 lery, he undertook the siege of fort St. John. The garrison consisted 
 in five or six hundred regular soldiers, with two hundred Canadians, 
 under the command of major Preston ; but the army of Canada, as 
 well as all the others of the confederation, wanted powder and 
 cannon balls, and therefore the siege made little progress. The 
 defect of discipline among the provincial troops created a difficulty 
 no less alarming. Montgomery opposed it with patience, with pro- 
 mises, with menaces, and especially with his magnanimity and the 
 authority of his person, which was very great among all. Fortune 
 soon offered him the means of remedying the deficiency of ammuni- 
 tion. A little below fort St. John, and upon the same river, is 
 situated another small fort, called Chambly. The English, believing 
 the enemy could not arrive there, before capturing fort St. John, had 
 neglected to arm it. The American general turned his attention to 
 this quarter. He put in motion a strong detachment, composed of 
 colonists and Canadians, uncNr the command of majors Brown and 
 Livingstone. They appeared unexpectedly before the fort, and took 
 possession of it. The garrison, a mere handful, were made prison- 
 ers. A few pieces of cannon, with an hundred and twenty-four 
 barrels of powder were thus obtained. The colors conquered from 
 the English were solemnly sent to Congress. The Americans, now 
 provided with the necessary munitions, pressed with vigor the siege 
 of St. John. They established a battery, at two and fifty paces from 
 the fort. 
 
 Several detachments of Americans scoured the country between 
 the river Sorel and that of St. Lawrence. They were received with 
 great demonstrations of joy by the Canadians, who came in throngs 
 to join them, bringing arms, ammunition, and provisions. Their 
 spirit increased with their number. Colonel Allen and major Brown, 
 both officers of real talent, concerted the project of surprising the 
 city of Montreal, the capital of Upper Canada, and situated in an 
 island formed by two branches of the St. Lawrence. Colonel 
 Allen having reached Longueville, found boats, and crossed the 
 river, during the night, below Montreal. Major Brown was to have 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 257 
 
 passed over at the same time ; but, not having been able to effect it, 
 the first division found itself iti a critical position. Governor Carle- 
 ton, who was then at Montreal, having discovered the weakness of 
 colonel Allen, and knowing how to make his profit of occasion, 
 marched out to meet him, with a few hundred men, among English, 
 Canadians, and savages. A fierce action ensued, and the Americans 
 defended themselves with bravery ; but, overpowered at lengih by 
 numbers, having lost many of his men, and abandoned by the other??, 
 especially by the Canadians, colonel Allen was forced to surreudt'i. 
 The governor would not observe towards him the laws of war ; but 
 caused him to be loaded with irons, and sent him to England. 
 
 Flushed with this success, he resolved, by a vigorous effort, to 
 raise the siege of fort St. John. He assembled what regular troops 
 he had, and a considerable number of Canadians and Indians ; but 
 still not believing his means sufficient, he departed from Montreal, in 
 order to join colonel Maclean, who, with the Scotch regiment of 
 Royal Highlanders, occupied the mouth of the Sorel, near its con- 
 fluence with the St. Lawrence. He hoped, with these forces united, 
 to be in a situation to attack general Montgomery, and compel him 
 to raise the siege. But fortune was not favorable to his design. 
 The American general, foreseeing that a man so active as governor 
 Carleton would assuredly not remain idle, had taken care to scour 
 continually, with numerous detachments, the eastern bank of the 
 right branch of the St. Lawrence. 
 
 The English, having completed their preparations, entered their 
 boats, to pass the river, and land upon the opposite side, at Longue- 
 ville. The American colonel Warner, having perceived their 
 design, planted artillery on the bank of the river, and stood ready 
 to repulse the enemy with musketry. He suffered the boats of the 
 governor to approach ; and, when they were within reach, poured 
 into them several discharges of grape-shot. The English, surprised 
 at this unexpected reception, retired in the greatest disorder, and 
 relanded upon the other bank of the river, at Montreal. Colonel 
 Maclean, informed of the check at Longueville, fell back upon 
 Quebec, abandoning to the Americans the mouth of the Sorel. 
 
 Meanwhile, the siege of fort St. John was pushed with greater 
 ardor. General Montgomery had already approached with his 
 trenches to the foot of the wall, and was preparing to give the 
 assault. But the besieged defended themselves valiantly, and ap- 
 peared resolved to hold out to the last, notwithstanding their provi- 
 sions were nearly exhausted. At length, the American general 
 having received the news of the governor's defeat, sent into the 
 place a flag, accompanied by one of the prisoners of colonel Warner. 
 In the letter he addressed to major Preston, informing him of this 
 event, he exhorted him not to persist in an obstinate defence, the only 
 result of which would be an useless effusion of blood. Preston at 
 VOL. i. 33 
 
258 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 first hesitated, and demanded an armistice of some days. But the 
 American could not consent to consume time unprofitahly ; the 
 season being already much advanced. The Englishman was conse- 
 quently compelled to surrender, the 3d of November, after a siege 
 of six weeks. He obtained the honors of war, and guaranty of 
 persons and property. The prisoners were conducted, by the way 
 of Ticonderoga, into the colonies that were deemed the most proper. 
 Thus fell into the power of the Americans the fortress of St. John, 
 which, since the loss of Ticonderoga and of Crown Point, was justly- 
 considered as the key of Canada. They found in it seventeen 
 pieces of brass cannon, twenty-two of iron, seven mortars, with a 
 considerable quantity of balls and bombs, and of naval stores ; the 
 munitions of war and provisions had been almost entirely consumed. 
 
 Masters of this important place, the Americans hastened to occupy 
 the mouths of the Sorel, and the point of land which this river forms 
 in its junction with the St. Lawrence. This operation was of the 
 utmost interest, in order to prevent the armed vessels, which the 
 governor had assembled at Montreal, from descending the river, and 
 escaping to Quebec. It was hoped, besides, that the governor him- 
 self might have to surrender ; he being then at Montreal, an open 
 city, and incapable of any defence. Accordingly, the provincials 
 erected batteries upon this point ; and, as the river is here very- 
 wide, they constructed, with extreme activity, a number of rafts and 
 floating batteries ; and thus not only prevented the governor from 
 descending the river, but even compelled him, by a furious attack, 
 to retire towards Montreal. All this squadron, and the governor in 
 person, had a very narrow escape. 
 
 General Montgomery arrived under the walls of Montreal, the day 
 after general Carleton had joined his ships and left it. The inha- 
 bitants immediately proposed many articles of capitulation ; but the 
 American general refused to accept them, alleging, that, not being 
 in a state of defence, they could not make terms. He summoned 
 them, therefore, to surrender at discretion ; but, humane as well as 
 brave, and possessed of all the civil virtues that can honor an indivi- 
 dual, he regulated himself for the inhabitants all the conditions they 
 could have wished, promising them, with a writing from his own 
 hand, that he would protect their persons, their property, and their 
 religion. In anticipation of their adhesion to the American Union, 
 he added, that he hoped the civil and religious rights of all the 
 Canadians would be unalterably fixed by the provincial Congress, 
 and that the courts of justice would be organised after the principles 
 of the English constitution. He subscribed, generally, to all the 
 propositions that were compatible with the security of his army, and 
 the success of his ulterior designs. This conduct of general Mont- 
 gomery was dictated not only by his own character, which was truly 
 noble and generous, but also by his desire to reassure the inhabitants 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 259 
 
 of other parts of Canada, and particularly of Quebec, to the end, 
 that, banishing all fear, and putting their confidence in his fortune 
 and his fidelity, they might espouse the cause of America. Hav- 
 ing thus satisfied the inhabitants of Montreal, he entered the city, on 
 the 13th of November. 
 
 The troops of Montgomery, generally but ill equipped, were 
 greatly annoyed by the cold of the season, which in that climate 
 be^an to be very severe. Especially in their marq^frorn St. John 
 to Montreal, the lands being continually low and marshy, they encoun- 
 tered innumerable difficulties, which only an incredible constancy 
 enabled them to surmount. Arrived at Montreal, some murmurs 
 began to escape them ; and the greater part of the soldiers, whose 
 term of service had expired, were inclined to return to their homes ; 
 but general Montgomery, by his words, by the influence he had over 
 them, and by a distribution of woollen clothing he had bought in the 
 city, retained a part of the discontented; the others abandoned the 
 army, and caused it to experience a diminution the more sensible, as 
 it was already none too large. But, the more obstacles multiplied, 
 the more kindled the elastic genius of the intrepid Montgomery. 
 
 The taking of Montreal by the provincials entirely paralyzed the 
 naval apparatus of the governor. He found himself blockaded, in 
 the part of the river St. Lawrence which is comprehended between 
 the city and the mouth of the river Sorel. Below this point, the 
 passage was interdicted him, by the floating batteries and rafts, armed 
 with artillery, tinder the command of colonel Easton. The taking 
 of the governor himself appeared inevitable ; which was to be consi- 
 dered as the decision of the war of Canada, as the pledge of the 
 conquest of the capital, and of the entire province. Its fate depended 
 absolutely upon the presence of this chief, whose courage and prudence 
 presided over all. In a position so perilous, he found the way to 
 escape, and at the very instant when his ruin appeared impending. 
 He threw himself into a boat ; and, having caused the oars to be 
 muffleJ, to diminish the noise, ho had the good fortune to pass, 
 favored by the obscurity of the night, through the guard boats of the 
 enemy, and to arrive sound and safe at Quebec. General Prescot, 
 who after the departure of the governor, had taken command of the 
 squadron, was forced to surrender. 
 
 With him fell into the power of the provincials many other officers, 
 several members of the civil administrations of Canada, the volunteers 
 of this province, and a corps of English soldiers ; all of whom had 
 taken refuge on board the ships, when general Montgomery was on 
 the eve of arriving at Montreal. Having left a garrison in Montreal, 
 as also in the forts of St. John and Chambly, to keep open a com- 
 munication between Quebec and the colonies, to secure the submission 
 of the Canadians, and to overawe the Indians, as well as the garri- 
 sons of Detroit and Niagara, he inarched towards Quebec, with a 
 
260 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 corps of little more than three hundred men, the sole residue of all 
 the army. 
 
 While these events passed in the upper part of Canada, the city 
 of Quebec was itself menaced, from an unexpected quarter, with a 
 most imminent peril. 
 
 Washington, in his camp near Boston, had conceived an enterprise 
 as surprising for its novelty as terrific for the obstacles and dangers 
 which it presented in the execution ; but if it was hazardous, it was 
 no less useful. He thought there must exist a way, which, though 
 unfrequented, and known only by the mountaineers in the mild season, 
 led from the upper parts of New Hampshire and the province of 
 Maine, across deserts, marshes, woods, and almost inaccessible moun- 
 tains, into Lower Canada, on the part of Quebec. He calculated 
 that an attack directed against this point, would produce the greater 
 effect, as it would be the more unexpected ; for not only no army was 
 ever known to pass through these rough and dismal solitudes, but 
 never had human being, until then, even imagined it was possible. 
 Washington knew, besides, that the city of Quebec was by no means in 
 a state of defence. His plan coincided perfectly with that part of the 
 army which was to penetrate into Upper Canada by way of the lakes 
 and the river Sorel. It was known how insufficient were the forces 
 of governor Carleton, who, compelled to divide them, could not hope 
 to resist two corps that should attack him simultaneously, the one 
 towards Montreal, the other towards Quebec. If he persisted in 
 defending the part contiguous to the first of these cities, the second 
 fell into the hands of the Americans ; if, on the contrary, he marched 
 to the succour of Quebec, Montreal and all the adjacent country 
 could not escape them. 
 
 The command of this adventurous enterprise was confided to colo- 
 nel Arnold, a man even more rash than audacious, of a genius fertile 
 in resources, and of a firmness not to be shaken. There were 
 selected, to follow him, ten companies of fusileers, three of riflemen, 
 and one of artillery, under the orders of captain Lamb. A few 
 volunteers joined them, among whom was colonel Burr, who after- 
 wards became vice-president of the United States. The corps 
 amounted in all to eleven hundred men. The province of Maine 
 is traversed by a river called the Kennebec, which takes its source 
 in the mountains that separate this province from Canada, and, run- 
 ning from north to south, falls into the sea, not far from Casco bay. 
 Opposite the sources of the Kennebec, on the other side of the 
 mountains, rises another river, named the Chaudiere, which goes to 
 empty itself into the St. Lawrence, a little above the city of Quebec. 
 In going from one of these sources to the other, it is necessary to pass 
 steep mountains, interrupted by frequent torrents and marshes. No 
 living being is found in all this space. Such is the route colonel 
 Arnold was to take, in order to arrive at Quebec. 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 261 
 
 He had received instructions to endeavor to correspond with the 
 army of Upper Canada, by means of the Indians of St. Francis, 
 who inhabit the banks of a river of this name, situated between the 
 Chaiidiere and the Sorel. He was also to employ all possible means 
 to conciliate the friendship of the Canadians, and to inform general 
 Washington of whatever should happen to him, from day to day. 
 He carried with him six thousand pounds sterling, and proclamations 
 in abundance ; they were used then with the sanm, prodigality that 
 they have been since. 
 
 All the preparations being completed, and the troops appearing 
 animated with extreme ardor, colonel Arnold departed from the camp 
 of Boston about the middle of September, and arrived at Newbury- 
 port, situated at the mouth of the Merrirnac. 
 
 The vessels that waited for him there, conveyed him to the mouths 
 of the Kennebec. The wind being favorable, he entered the river, 
 and found two hundred batteaux in preparation, at the town of Gardi- 
 ner. Having laden them with his arms, ammunition, and provisions, 
 he thus proceeded up the river to fort Wester, situated upon the right 
 bank. Here he divided his corps into three detachments ; the first, 
 composed of riflemen, and commanded by captain Morgan, formed 
 the vanguard, to explore the country, sound the fords, prepare the 
 ways, and especially to reconnoitre what the Americans denominate 
 portages. These portages are places where, the rivers ceasing to be 
 navigable, it becomes necessary to carry by hand or sumpter, all the 
 lading of the batteaux, and finally the boats themselves, until the 
 streams become navigable anew. The second detachment marched 
 the day following, and the third, the day after that. The current 
 was rapid, the bed of the river rocky, and often interrupted by falls 
 and other impediments. It happened at every instant, that the water 
 entered the batteaux, and damaged or drowned the provisions and 
 ammunition. At every portage, and they were encountered conti- 
 nually, the boats were to be unladen, and transported upon shoulders, 
 to a navigable place. The way upon land offered difficulties no less 
 formidable than this of the water. It was necessary to penetrate 
 through thickest forests, to scale frightful mountains, to wade through 
 quagmires, and traverse horrible precipices. The soldiers, while 
 hewing a way through so many obstacles, were forced to carry all 
 their baggage ; and accordingly they advanced but very slowly. 
 Provisions began to fail them before they arrived at the sources of the 
 Kennebec. They found themselves constrained to eat their dogs, 
 and even aliments still more strange. Numbers, wasted by continual 
 fatigues and hardships, were attacked with maladies. As soon as 
 they reached the source of Dead river, which is a branch of the 
 Kennebec, colonel Enos received orders to send back all the sick, 
 and all those to whom it was not possible to furnish provisions. But 
 this officer, embracing the occasion, returned with all his detachment 
 
262 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 to the camp at Boston. All the army, on seeing him appear, were 
 transported with indignation against a man who had abandoned his 
 own companions, in the midst of danger, and whose desertion might 
 occasion the miscarriage of the whole enterprise. He was brought 
 before a court martial, but acquitted, in consequence of the acknow- 
 leged impossibility of procuring sustenance in these wild and desert 
 places. 
 
 Meanwhile, cqjjpnel Arnold pursued his march, with the two first 
 divisions. He had employed thirty-two days in traversing fearful 
 solitudes, without perceiving a single habitation, a single human lace. 
 Marshes, mountains, precipices, were encountered at every step, and 
 appeared to cut off all hope of success, or rather all hope of safety. 
 Death was to all more an object of desire than of fear ; their toils, 
 their hardships, their sufferings, had no end. Their constancy, how- 
 ever, did not desert them ; the law of necessity seemed to sustain 
 their energies. Arrived upon the summit of the mountains that sepa- 
 rate the waters of the Kennebec from those of the Chaudiere and 
 of the river St. Lawrence, the feeble relics of food that still were 
 found were divided equally among all the companies. Arnold said to 
 his soldiers, they must now push forward to seek subsistence, since 
 they had no other resource, no other chance of preservation. As to 
 himself he was to be seen every where, reconnoitring the places, and 
 searching for some means to escape famine. The companies were 
 still thirty miles distant from any inhabited place, when it was found 
 that every species of subsistence was consumed to the last morsel. 
 Despair became general ; all at once, Arnold appeared, and brought 
 with him wherewith to satisfy 1 the first wants of nature. They 
 resumed their march ; and at length discovered, with inconceivable 
 joy, the sources of the Chaudiere, and, soon after, the first habitations 
 of the Canadians. These showed themselves heartily well disposed 
 towards the Congress, and offered the Americans all the succours 
 that were in their power. Arnold, who was impatient to reap the 
 fruits of so many toils and of so many perils, would wait no longer 
 than was necessary for the rear guard to come up, and to assemble 
 the scattered soldiers. He then gave out a proclamation of general 
 Washington. It was drawn up in the same style as those of generals 
 Schuyler and Montgomery. The Canadians were exhorted to enter 
 into the confederacy, and resort to the banners of general liberty ; 
 they were told, that the colonists came not to oppress or despoil them, 
 but, on the contrary, to protect persons and property, in a country 
 they considered friendly ; ' Let them remain, therefore, in their 
 dwellings ; let them not fly from their friends ; let them furnish the 
 troops with all the necessaries in their power, for which they might 
 depend upon full payment.' 
 
 Arnold continued his march, and arrived, the 9th of November, at 
 a place named Point Levy, situated opposite to Quebec, upon the 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 263 
 
 right bank of the river St. Lawrence. It is easy to imagine the stupor 
 of surprise which seized the inhabitants of Quebec, at the apparition 
 of these troops. They could not comprehend by what way, or in 
 what mode, they had transported themselves into this region. This 
 enterprise appeared to them not merely marvellous, but miraculous; 
 and if Arnold, in this first moment, had been able to cross the river, 
 and fall upon Quebec, he would have taken it without difficulty. But 
 colonel Maclean had been seasonably apprised of trie approach of the 
 Americans, by a letter, which Arnold, being still at the sources of the 
 Kennebec, had confided to an Indian of St. Francis, to deliver to 
 general Schuyler, and which this savage had suffered to be taken 
 from him. or perhaps had voluntarily given up. The English had 
 consequently withdrawn all the batteaux from the right bank to the 
 other side of the river. In addition to which, the wind this day blew 
 so violently, that it would have been impossible to cross the river 
 without manifest danger. These two circumstances saved the city. 
 Arnold was forced to lose several days ; and he could have no hope 
 of being able to pass, except in the night, the river being guarded by 
 the frigate Lizard and several smaller armed vessels, that were an- 
 chored under the walls of the city. But, during many successive 
 nights, the wind was even more impetuous than by day. Meanwhile, 
 the Canadians had furnished Arnold with batteaux ; and he waited 
 only for a fit time to attempt the passage. 
 
 The commander of Quebec found himself provided with few 
 means to defend the city. The spirit that prevailed among the in- 
 habitants could not fail to alarm him ; and the garrison was very feeble. 
 The merchants and English were much dissatisfied with the French 
 laws, which had recently been introduced into the province, and the 
 little regard shown by the government for their petitions. They 
 complained, that all favors, that all privileges, were reserved for the 
 French inhabitants; and that the desire to win the benevolence of 
 these enemies, had caused the government to despise friends. ' These 
 Frenchmen* they said, * elated with pride by so many attentions, in- 
 cessantly insult and outrage the English. Even in private circles, 
 these zealous subjects are forward to discourse upon affairs of state, in 
 order to sound the opinion of those that hear them, and afterwards 
 to go and report their words to persons in authority. Thus the liberty 
 enjoyed by the English in their actions and speech, is transformed into 
 symptoms of disaffection, disloyalty, and sinister designs.' The En- 
 glish citizens also manifested an extreme disgust at the license of the 
 soldiery, and as the conduct of the governor, who had left the city 
 without garrison, when the troops bad been sent against the insurgents 
 in the part of the Sorel and of Montreal, without even having taken 
 the precaution to organise the companies of militia. It appeared, 
 also, that little reliance could be placed in the fidelity of the French, 
 the greater part of whom were wavering, and some even declared 
 
264 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 enemies to British domination. On the other hand, the garrison was 
 extremely feeble ; it only consisted in the companies of Royal Irish, 
 under colonel Maclean, and in a few militia, finally assembled in 
 haste by the lieutenant-governor. The council of naval officers had 
 not permitted the sailors to be landed to serve on shore, as well on 
 account of the season, now far advanced, as of the difficulties of the 
 navigation. 
 
 But when the American colors were seen floating on the other 
 side of the river, all the citizens, soldiers or not soldiers, landsmen or 
 seamen, English or French, united by common danger, and fearing 
 for their effects, which were very considerable, hastened with emula- 
 tion to the defence of the city ; and exerted the utmost activity, in 
 order to make all necessary preparations, before the enemy could 
 pass the river. The companies of militia were armed, and stationed 
 at their posts. The Royal Irish manifested the greatest resolution. 
 The marines were put on shore, who, accustomed to the management 
 of cannon, were destined to serve the artillery of the ramparts. The 
 ardor of colonel Maclean was of great benefit, in this first approach of 
 perils ; he neglected nothing to inspire all minds with firmness, and to 
 assemble whatever might contribute to the defence of the city. 
 
 Finally, the wind being moderated, and Arnold having made his 
 arrangements, in order to pass the river, and attack the city, he 
 appointed the night of the 13th of November for the execution of his 
 designs. He embarked all his men, with the exception of one hundred 
 and fifty, who remained to complete the requisite number of ladders. 
 Notwithstanding the extreme rapidity of the current, and all the pains 
 it was necessary to take in order to avoid the ships of the enemy, he 
 reached the left bank, a little above the place where general Wolfe 
 had landed in 1759, under auspices so happy for his country, and so 
 fatal to himself. Unable to scale the banks of the river, which are 
 very steep at this point, he descended towards Quebec, always 
 marching upon the margin of the river, until he was come to the foot 
 of the same precipice which general Wolfe had found so murh diffi- 
 culty in surmounting. Followed by his intrepid companions, he 
 mounted to its summit, and drew up his little band upon the heights 
 near the plain of Abraham. Here he waited for them to recover 
 breath, and to give time for the companies left on the other side of 
 the St. Lawrence to join him. He had hoped to surprise the city, 
 and to carry it by a single effort. But the notice given by the inter- 
 cepted letter, the appearance he had made at Point Levy, and the 
 encounter of a boat that was passing from the port of Quebec to the 
 frigate, had given the alarm, and apprised the whole city of the danger 
 ready to burst upon them; accordingly, all were at their posts. It 
 was not long before Arnold had full assurance of it ; for, having sent 
 forward the companies of riflemen to reconnoitre the places, and the 
 position of the enemy, they reported, on their return, that they had 
 
BOOK V. THE ABfERICAN WAR. 265 
 
 encountered advanced guards, who had given the alert. The colonel 
 was nevertheless disposed to order the attack ; but the other officers 
 endeavored to dissuade him from it. The greater part of the muskets 
 were become, by the accidents of a long march, unfit for service. 
 So great a part of the ammunition had perished, that there no longer 
 remained 'more than six charges to each soldier. Finally, the pro- 
 vincials had not a single piece of cannon. But, if Arnold had lost the 
 hope of taking Quebec by storm, he had not renounced that of 
 exciting within it a movement in his favor, and causing its gates to 
 be opened to him, by showing himself in arms under its walls. 
 Accordingly, he displayed himself frequently upon the heights ; and 
 even sent a flag, summoning the town to surrender. But all was in 
 vain. Colonel Maclean, who commanded during the absence of the 
 governor, not only refused to admit the message, but ordered his men 
 to fire upon the bearers. Arnold was informed, at the same time, 
 that the soldiers who had escaped from the discomfiture of Montreal, 
 were coming down the river, and that colonel Maclean was preparing 
 to make a sally. 
 
 Finding himself, therefore, constrained to retire, he went to encamp 
 at a place called Point au Tremble, twenty miles above Quebec, to 
 await the arrival of Montgomery, who was expected from Upper 
 Canada. He perceived, during his march, the ship in which governor 
 Carleton was proceeding to Quebec. When arrived at Point au 
 Tremble, he learned that this general had stopped there, a few hours 
 before; so uncertain are the events of war so singular are the 
 chances on which often depends the fate of nations! 
 
 The governor arrived, therefore, without accident, at Quebec. 
 He immediately set about taking all the measures of defence which 
 the pressure of time, and the difficulty of circumstances, could allow 
 him. He sent out of the city, with their families, all those who 
 refused to take arms. The garrison, inclusive of the militia, amounted 
 only to about fifteen hundred men, a number much inferior to what 
 would have been necessary to guard suitably all the fortifications, 
 .which were extensive and multiplied ; and even of this number, the 
 proportion of regular soldiers was very inconsiderable. The compa- 
 nies organised by colonel Maclean were composed of new levies ; 
 and one company of the seventh regiment were all recruits. The 
 rest was a medley of militia, French and English, of some few marines, 
 of sailors belonging to the frigates of the king, or to the merchant 
 vessels that wintered in the port. These seamen constituted the 
 principal force of the garrison ; for they at least knew how to serve 
 the artillery. 
 
 In the meantime, general Montgomery, having left garrisons in the 
 
 fortresses of Upper Canada, and secured the favorable dispositions 
 
 of the inhabitants of the {Arts adjacent, commenced his march 
 
 towards Quebec. The season was extremely severe ; it being about 
 
 VOL. i. 34 
 
266 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 the beginning of December ; the roads, obstructed with snow, were 
 almost impassable. The Americans, however, supported so many 
 hardships with singular fortitude. It was owing principally to the 
 prudence and firmness of Montgomery, qualities which gave him a 
 powerful influence over his soldiers. This multitude, snatched from 
 pacific occupations, had been all at once employed in the most 
 arduous toils of war, in the midst of the most rigorous season of the 
 year. Every one sees how difficult it is to introduce subordination 
 among men of such a sort; and it should even be added, that these, 
 from their habits and opinions, were peculiarly indisposed to that 
 obedience so essential in armies. Finally, the term of their engage- 
 ment was nearly expired; and already they exulted in the expecta- 
 tion of soon returning to the repose and solace of their homes. 
 
 Such were the difficulties which beset the American general. But 
 his name, dear to all, the seduction of his eloquence^ even the 
 splendor of his person, his virtues, and the continual example he 
 gave of resignation and magnanimity, supported the constancy of 
 his troops under their hardships, and inspired them with new ardor 
 to follow his steps. Certainly the march of Arnold across the horrible 
 wilderness that separates the District of Maine from Canada, and this 
 of Montgomery through Upper Canada ; the force of talent which 
 enabled the two leaders to maintain discipline and good will among 
 soldiers lately enrolled, attached with vehemence to their independ- 
 ence, and accustomed to act their pleasure without restraint, are 
 enterprises which at least equal, if not surpass, the most painful, the 
 most arduous, of all those related in history of the captains of anti- 
 quity. Such prodigies have been accomplished by armies of incon- 
 siderable numbers, when compared with those which have over- 
 whelmed other parts of the world; but ought this to diminish the 
 glory of these intrepid men in the memory of posterity? 
 
 Montgomery arrived, the first of December, at Point au Tremble, 
 with a detachment not exceeding, if it amounted to, three hundred 
 men. Here colonel Arnold advanced to receive him ; the joy of the 
 two corps, at this meeting, cannot be described. Montgomery had 
 brought clothing for the soldiers of Arnold, who stood in the most 
 urgent want of it. 
 
 They marched in company, and arrived, the fifth of December, in 
 sight of Quebec. Their force was inferior to that of the garrison 
 they purposed to attack. They sent to summon it by a flag. The 
 governor ordered his troops to fire upon the bearer. Montgomery 
 then resorted to the agency of an inhabitant, to convey another letter 
 to the governor ; in which, after having magnified his own forces, the 
 insufficiency of the garrison, and the impossibility of defence, he de- 
 manded an immediate surrender, threatening an assault, and all the 
 calamities which irritated and victorious soldiers are wont to inflict 
 upon cities taken by storm. This step was also without success ; 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 267 
 
 general Carleton, a veteran commander, was not a man to be intimi- 
 dated so easily. As to the American general, considering the 
 weakness of his means, and the immobility of the inhabitants, who 
 made no demonstration in his favor, he cherished but faint hopes of 
 success. Nevertheless, to abandon an enterprise in which he had 
 engaged with so much ardor, appeared to him too unworthy of his 
 name and valor. He was not ignorant, besides, that in the com- 
 mencement of this revolution, the unfortunate issue of an expedition 
 so agreeable to the people, and upon which they had founded such 
 brilliant expectations, would infallibly produce a pernicious effect 
 upon the public mind. He foresaw that, instead of ardor and confi- 
 dence, it must introduce dejection and despair. He doubted even 
 whether he should be able to preserve the part of Canada he had 
 acquired, if the capital of the province remained in the power of the 
 English. He had been informed, that, in the following spring, large 
 reenforcements were to arrive from England ; which would enable 
 the enemy to expel the American troops without difficulty. Wanting 
 forces, but not courage, Montgomery resorted to the only way that 
 was left him ; he resolved to harrass and reduce the garrison, by fre- 
 quent and furious attacks. He was not without hope, that he might 
 thus find some opportunity to strike a decisive blow ; this expecta- 
 tion was the more probable, as the garrison was far from being suf- 
 ficient to,R,uard effectually the numerous fortifications of so extensive 
 a city. The American general accordingly attempted to throw bombs 
 into the town, with five small mortars; hoping in this manner to excite 
 some movement within. But the vigilance of the governor, the zeal 
 and bravery of the officers, and especially the efforts of the seamen, 
 prevented this siege from producing any perceptible effect. 
 
 A few days after, Montgomery planted a battery of six pieces of 
 cannon and a howitzer, within seven hundred paces of the walls. 
 This artillery was laid, not upon the ground, but upon banks of snow 
 and ice ; the pieces were of feeble caliber ; their fire was nearly 
 without result. 
 
 Meanwhile, the snow which fell incessantly, encumbered the earth ; 
 and the cold had become so violent, that it was beyond human nature 
 to support it in the open field. The hardships which the Americans 
 had to suffer from the rigor of the climate, and the fatigues to which 
 their small number subjected them, surpass all the imagination can 
 picture of the most severe. The attachment they bore to their cause, 
 and the confidence which they had, the most unshaken, in their 
 general, could only have sustained them in the midst of trials so ter- 
 rible. To render their position still more dismal, the smallpox broke 
 out in the camp ; this scourge was the terror of the soldiers. It was 
 ordered that those who were attacked with it, should wear a sprig of 
 hemlock upon their hats, that the others might know and avoid them. 
 But constancy in the human breast, gives place to despair, when suf- 
 
268 THE ABIERICAN WAR. BOOK T. 
 
 ferings appear without end. And this extremity was the more to be 
 feared among the provincials, as the expiration of their time of ser- 
 vice, with the possibility of escape from so many evils, might probably 
 -create the desire. All these considerations persuaded Montgomery, 
 that without a bold and immediate effort, he must renounce the idea 
 of satisfying public expectation, and witness the eclipse of his own 
 glory. In his position, even temerity became prudence, and it was 
 better to lose life in a glorious action, than resign himself to a shame 
 which would have been so fatal to the American arms. 
 
 Accordingly, Montgomery having determined to attempt the assault, 
 convoked a council of war, and acquainted them with his project. 
 Without denying that it was of difficult execution, he maintained that 
 it was possible, and that valor and prudence would triumph over all 
 obstacles. All were in favor of his proposition. A few companies 
 of Arnold, dissatisfied with their commander, alone testified repug- 
 nance. But captain Morgan, a man of real merit, addressed them a 
 persuasive discourse, and their opposition ceased. The general had 
 already arranged in his mind the plan of the attack, and thought of 
 all the means proper to carry it into execution. He intended it should 
 take place, at the same time, against the upper and lower town. But 
 understanding that a deserter had given notice of it to the governor, he 
 resolved to divide his army into four corps, two of which, composed 
 in great part of Canadians, under the command of majors Livingston 
 and Brown, were to occupy the attention of the enemy by two feigned 
 attacks of the upper town, towards St. John and Cape Diamond. The 
 two others, led, the first by Montgomery, the second by Arnold, were 
 reserved to assault the lower part of the town from two opposite 
 points. The general was perfectly aware, that after he should have 
 carried this part of Quebec, there would remain many difficulties to 
 be surmounted in order to conquer the other. But he hoped that 
 the inhabitants, on seeing so great a proportion of their property 
 fallen into the power of the victors, would force the governor to capi- 
 tulate. 
 
 The last day of the year, 1775, between four and five o'clock 
 in the morning, in the midst of a heavy storm of snow, the four 
 columns put themselves in motion, in the best order, each towards the 
 point assigned. 
 
 It is said that captain Frazer, of the Irish emigrants, in going his 
 round, perceived the fusees which the Americans fired to give the 
 signal ; and that, immediately, without waiting further orders, he 
 caused the drums to beat, and roused the garrison to arms. The 
 columns of Livingston and of Brown, impeded by the snow and other 
 obstacles, were not in time to execute their feints. But Montgomery, 
 at the head of his, composed chiefly of New York men, adva'nced 
 upon the bank of the river, marching by the way denominated Jlnse 
 de mer, under Cape Diamond. Here was encountered a first barrier. 
 

 BOOK V, THE AMERICAN WAR. 269 
 
 at a place called Potasse, which was defended by a battery of a few 
 pieces of cannon ; further on, at the distance of two hundred paces 
 from this, stood a redoubt, furnished with a sufficient guard. The 
 soldiers that composed it, being the greater part Canadians, on see- 
 ing the enemy approach, were seized with , terror, threw down their 
 arms, and fled. The battery itself was abandoned ; and if the Ame- 
 ricans could have advanced with sufficient expedition, they would 
 certainly have been masters of it. But in turning Cape Diamond, 
 the foot of which is bathed by the waters of the river, they found 
 the road interrupted by enormous masses of snow. Montgomery, 
 with his own hands, endeavored to open a path for his troops who 
 followed him, man by man ; he was compelled to wait for them. At 
 length having assembled about two hundred, whom he encouraged 
 with voice and example, he moved courageously and rapidly towards 
 the barrier. But in the meantime, a cannonier who had retreated 
 from the battery, on seeing the enemy halt, returned to his post, and 
 taking a match, which happened to be still burning, fired a cannon 
 charged with grape-shot; the Americans were within forty paces. 
 This single explosion totally extinguished the hopes they had con- 
 ceived. Montgomery, as well as captains Macpherson and Cheesman, 
 both young men of singular merit, and dear to the general, were 
 killed upon, the spot. The soldiers shrunk back on seeing their gene- 
 ral fall ; and colonel Campbell, on whom the command devolved, was. 
 not a man capable of executing so perilous an enterprise. The flight 
 soon became universal ; so that this part of the garrison no longer 
 having enemies to combat, was at liberty to, fly to the succour of that 
 which was attacked by Arnold. 
 
 This colonel, who was himself at the head of the forlorn hope, 
 marched by the way of St. Roc, towards the place called Saut-au- 
 Mitelot. Captain Lamb followed him with a company of artillery, 
 and one piece of cannon ; next came .the main body, preceded by 
 the riflemen under captain Morgan. The besieged had erected at 
 the entrance of the avenue, a battery, which defended a barrier. 
 The Americans found themselves confined within a passage obstructed 
 by deep snow, and so commanded by the works of the enemy, that 
 his grape-shot swept it in every direction. Meanwhile, Arnold ad- 
 vanced rapidly under the fire of the besieged, who manned the walls. 
 He received a musket ball in the leg, which wounded him severely, 
 splintering the bone. It was necessary to carry him to the hospital, 
 almost by compulsion. Captain Morgan then took the command, and 
 with all the impetuosity of his character, he launched himself against 
 the battery, at the head of two companies. The artillery of the 
 enemy continued to fire grape-shot, but with little effect. 
 
 The American riflemen, celebrated for their extreme address, 
 killed many of the English soldiers through the embrasures. They 
 applied ladders to the parapet ; the besieged were daunted, and aban- 
 
270 THE AMERICAN WAH. BOOK T. 
 
 doned the battery to the assailants. Morgan with his companies, and 
 a few soldiers of the centre, who were come up to the vanguard, 
 made many prisoners, English as well as Canadians ; but his situ- 
 ation became extremely critical. The main body had not yet been 
 able to join him ; he had no guide, and he was unacquainted with 
 the city ; he had no artillery ; and the day was still far from dawning. 
 He found himself constrained to halt; his soldiers began to reflect 
 upon their position ; their ardor cooled rapidly. The ignorance in 
 which they were of the fate of their other columns, the obscurity of 
 night, the snow which fell with redoubled violence, the firing of mus- 
 ketry which was heard on every side, and even behind them, finally, 
 the uncertainty of the future, filled the boldest spirits with an invo- 
 luntary terror. Morgan alone resisted the panic ; he rallied his rifle- 
 men, promising them a certain victory. He ran to the barrier, to 
 spur on those who had remained behind. Lieutenant-colonel Green, 
 majors Bigelovv and Meigs, joined him with their companies. The 
 morning began to dawn, when Morgan, with a terrible voice, sum- 
 moned his troops to the assault ; he led on with fury against a second 
 battery, which he knew to be only a few paces distant, though mask- 
 ed by an angle of the road ; on turning the corner, he encountered 
 a detachment of English, who had sallied from the battery, under 
 the command of Captain Anderson. The latter summoned the 
 Americans to lay down arms. Morgan levelled a musket at his head, 
 and laid him dead upon the ground. The English then retreated with- 
 in the battery, and closed the barrier. A fierce combat ensued, 
 which cost many lives to the two parties, but most to the Americans, 
 whose flanks were exposed to a destructive fire of musketry from the 
 windows of the houses. Meanwhile, some of the most adventur- 
 ous having rested their ladders against the palisades, appeared 
 idisposed to leap it, but on seeing two files of soldiers prepared to 
 receive them on the points of their bayonets, they renounced this 
 project. Cut clown by a continual fire, they now sought shelter in the 
 houses. Morgan remained almost alone, near the barrier, endeavor- 
 ing in vain to recall his soldiers, and inspire them with fresh courage. 
 Weariness, and the menacing countenance of the enemy, had dis- 
 heartened the most audacious. Their arms, bathed by the snow, 
 which continued to fall impetuously, were no longer of any use to 
 them. Morgan then seeing the expedition frustrated, ordered the 
 retreat to sound, in order to avoid being surrounded. But the sol- 
 diers who had taken refuge in the houses were afraid to expose 
 themselves to the tempest of shot that must have been encountered, 
 in gaining the corner of the avenue, where they would have been 
 out of danger, and whence they might have retired behind the first 
 barrier. The loss they had sustained, the fury of the storm, and the 
 benumbing effects of the cold, had deprived them of all courage. 
 Tn the meantime, a detachment of the besieged sallied out from a gate 
 
BOOK V. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 of the palace, and captain Dearborne, who, with his company of pro- 
 vincials, held himself in reserve near this gate, having surrendered, 
 the English retook all this part of the city ; consequently, Morgan 
 saw himself encircled by enemies. He proposed to his followers, 
 to open, with arms, the way of retreat ; but they refused in the hope 
 that the assault given on the other part might have succeeded, and 
 that Montgomery would soon come to their relief. They resolved 
 to defend themselves, in the meantime ; but having at length perceiv- 
 ed by the continually increasing multitude of enemies, the true state 
 of things, they yielded to destiny, and laid down arms. 
 
 Such was the issue of the assault given by the Americans to the 
 city of Quebec, in the midst of the most rigorous season of the year ; 
 an enterprise, which, though at first view it may seem rash, was 
 certainly not impossible. The events themselves have proved it; 
 for if general Montgomery had not been slain at the first onset, it is 
 more than prpbable that on his part he would have carried the bar- 
 rier, since even at the moment of his death the battery was aban- 
 doned, and s-.ily served by a few men ; by penetrating at this point 
 while Arnold and Morgan obtained the same advantages in their 
 attacks, all the lower city would have fallen into the power of the 
 Americans. However this may be, though victory escaped them, 
 their heroic efforts will be the object of sincere admiration. The 
 governor, using his advantages nobly, treated the prisoners with much 
 humanity. He caused the American general to be interred with 
 all military honors. 
 
 The loss of this excellent officer was deeply and justly lamented 
 by all his party. Born of a distinguished Irish family, Montgomery 
 had entered in early youth, the career of arms ; and had served, 
 with honor, in the preceding war between Great Britain and France. 
 Having married an American lady, and purchased an estate in the 
 province of New York, he was considered, and considered himself, 
 an American. He loved glory much, and liberty yet more. Neither 
 genius, nor valor, nor occasion, failed him ; but time and fortune. 
 And if it is allowable, from the past actions of man to infer the fu- 
 ture, what motives are there for believing, that if death had not taken 
 him from his country in all the vigor of his age, he would have left 
 it the model of military heroism and of civil virtues ! He was be- 
 loved by the good, feared by the wicked, and honored even by 
 enemies. Nature had done all for him ; his person, from its perfec- 
 tion, answered to the purity of his mind. He left a wife, the object 
 of all his tenderness, with several children, still infants ; a spectacle 
 for their country, at once of pity and of admiration ! The state, from 
 gratitude towards their father, distinguished them with every mark 
 of kindness and protection.* Thus died this man whose name, 
 
 * The author was misinformed with respect to this fact; the widow of eru>ral Mont- 
 gomery never had any children. TRANSLATOR. 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK V. 
 
 ever pronounced with enthusiasm by his own, has never ceased to be 
 respected by the warmest of the opposite party ; marvellous eulo- 
 gium, and almost without example ! 
 
 General Carleton still added to his reputation for prudence and 
 intrepidity, in having maintained, under circumstances of such diffi- 
 culty, both order and union, among soldiers assembled in haste, and 
 altogether strangers to discipline. If, with means so feeble, he was 
 able to repulse the formidable attacks of an enemy rendered more 
 terrible by despair, he acquired an honor not inferior by the gene- 
 rosity with which he used victory. 
 
 Arnold, who, after the death of Montgomery, had taken the com- 
 mand of the troops, not thinking himself in safety under the walls of 
 the city, extended his camp, with the intention of converting the 
 siege into a blockade. He retired to a distance of three miles from 
 the town ; and intrenched himself, as well as the season, the want 
 of all necessary articles, and the shortness of time, would admit of. 
 Though still suffering much from his wound, he was vigilant to scour 
 the country, and to intercept the provisions that were conducted to 
 the city. The governor, on his part, satisfied with seeing the return 
 of tranquillity for the present, and trusting in the hope of succours 
 already announced, would not. by a second trial of fortune, expose 
 himself to hazard the glory he had acquired, the fate of the pro- 
 vince, and perhaps that of all the war. He therefore remained 
 peaceably within the walls of the city, waiting for the favorable sea- 
 son, and reenforcements from England. 
 
 Thus terminated, in America, the year 1775, to give place to the 
 subsequent, teeming with actions no less glorious, and events no less 
 memorable. 
 
 END OF BOOK FIFTH. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 273 
 
 BOOK SIXTH. 
 
 1775. THE general attention in England was now turned upon 
 the great spectacle presented by the Americans, and their resistance 
 rekindled the animosity of the different parties. It had been hoped, 
 and the ministers themselves had confidently affirmed, that the late 
 laws, and especially the troops recently despatched to the colonies, 
 would promptly suppress sedition and reduce the factious to obedience. 
 It was not doubted that the partisans of the royal cause, encouraged 
 by the presence of soldiers, and desirous to avoid the vengeance of 
 the laws, would display great energy, and separate themselves from 
 the insurgents, to join the troops of the king, and reestablish the 
 authority of government. It was also firmly believed that the southern 
 provinces, on seeing the storm ready to burst upon their heads, would 
 never espouse the quarrel of the provinces of the north ; and it 
 appeared infallibly certain that the dissentions which alienated the 
 one from the other, would bring about the submission of all. But 
 these hopes having proved entirely deceitful, a general discontent 
 succeeded them, and on all parts the conduct of ministers was cen- 
 sured with asperity. It was deemed intolerable that the soldiers of 
 the king, instead of victoriously keeping the field, should shamefully 
 languish behind the walls of a city without daring to show themselves. 
 The popular movements, which at first were only partial, now extended 
 over the whole continent. The governors in the room of reesta- 
 blishing the royal authority, were forced to fly from their posts and 
 take refuge on board of ships. 
 
 The Americans, heretofore represented as trembling, and ready 
 to humble themselves, were daily acquiring new audacity, and a more 
 formidable energy in resistance. The members of parliament who 
 had combated the influence of ministers, repeated, with loud cries, 
 c that such were the necessary fruits of their incapacity, of their infa- 
 tuated obstinacy.' ' Since they have not been willing, it was said, to 
 grant the colonists the peace they implored, they ought, at least, to 
 have made war upon them with sufficient forces ; they have done too 
 much to irritate, too little to subdue. Instead of surprising their 
 adversaries before they could have furnished themselves with means 
 of defence, they have given them a long warning, as if they wished 
 to see them duly prepared ; they have chosen to stake the entire 
 fortune of the colonies, and brought into play only a part of their 
 forces ; they have dishonored the British nation not only with the 
 Americans but among all the nations of the world ; they have sullied 
 it with the name of cruel, withouj; having veiled the stigma with the 
 lustre of victory. But we rejoice indeed, and greatly rejoice, to see 
 thus defeated tp their utter shame all the projects of the ministers 
 VOL. i. 35 
 
274 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 against America. They will perceive, at length, that it is not so 
 easy to establish tyranny in the British empire, as they had presumed 
 in their blind rage to conceive. With a satisfaction not less sincere, 
 do we behold that opposition, so worthy to be admired by all good 
 men, and by all the friends of liberty, which has resulted in the 
 wreck of these Scotch machinations, of this policy of the Stuarts, 
 first attempted in America, but intended eventually for England. 
 We are cheered by the happy augury ; and we no longer despair of 
 the public safety, whatever may be the pernicious plots of profligate 
 ministers.' 
 
 4 We have believed, answered the ministers, that the ways of meek- 
 ness in this commencement of troubles, were most agreeable to the 
 spirit of our laws, and of our national character ; that clemency and 
 forbearance ought to form the basis of the conduct of the British 
 government towards its subjects. The ministers have been accused 
 so many times, and upon grounds so frivolous, of wishing to introduce 
 a system of despotism, that in the present occasion they have been 
 very circumspect to keep themselves aloof from all suspicion of a 
 similar desire. What would their adversaries have said, if at the 
 beginning of disturbances they had hurried to arms; if they had sent 
 formidable armies to America, and consigned it to fire and blood ? 
 Then would they have raised the voice against tyranny ; we have 
 not done it, and their clamors are the same. What have we left then 
 but to despise them ? For is it not demonstrated, that not the love of 
 liberty, but ambition, riot the desire of justice, but that of baffling the 
 ministers, have been the motives of their conduct ? Before proceed- 
 ing to the last extremities, our duty was to allow time for reflection 
 and repentance ; for only incurable evils are to be treated with fire 
 and sword. 
 
 * We have borne for a long time, it is true, the effervescence of 
 the Americans ; but we should hope that this lone; suffering would 
 persuade them of the maternal sentiments of our common country 
 that has endured outrages with magnanimity, which it might have 
 punished at a single blow. The colonists themselves have no doubt 
 of this; they must know the immense superiority of the forces of 
 England. The measures of the government would have opened their 
 eyes already, if they were not continually deceived, excited, and 
 misled by chiefs in delirium, here as well as there, by the cries of 
 an imprudent opposition. But it will soon be seen in earnest, by the 
 vigorous resolutions of government, and the energetic employment 
 it is about to make of all its forces, that it will no more be wanting 
 to itself than forgetful of what is due to the honor of the crown and 
 the interests of the country. 
 
 1 The Americans have no more indulgence to expect on our part. 
 They are no longer to be looked upon as British subjects, but as 
 implacable enemies. With as much confidence as justice, we can 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 275 
 
 henceforth overwhelm them with the formidable arm of Great Bri- 
 tain.' Such were the answers of the ministers to the imputations of 
 their adversaries. These excuses might have heen valid, if the 
 ministry had not assailed the Americans with laws far more irritating 
 than open force. For armies, though victorious, may be resisted 
 with glory ; but the patience that must tolerate oppression, is without 
 this illusion. 
 
 Far from abating with time, these intestine dissentions appeared 
 every day to acquire new activity. The more necessary a consent 
 of opinions became to avert the perils that menaced the country, the 
 more they were divided and marshalled in opposition by the spirit of 
 party. This internal fermentation was of an augury the more fatal, 
 inasmuch as it brought to mind those ancient and sanguinary quarrels 
 which raged in the time of Queen Anne with so much peril to Eng- 
 land, between the republicans and the royalists, under the names.of 
 whigs and tories. The friends and the enemies to the cause of 
 America manifested the same animosity, and the same obstinacy ; 
 and there wa-STmuch appearance that not only America, but England 
 itself, was on the point of breaking out into open discord and civil 
 war. 
 
 * The tories,' it was said on one side, 'are themselves the authors 
 of the frequent addresses to the king and parliament, urging that the 
 continent of America should be put to all that fire and sword can 
 inflict ; these are the false reporters, these the incendiaries of discord. 
 Bigotted as they are, and infatuated in the maxims of the house of 
 Stuart, neither the example of the evils they have brought upon 
 England, nor the total ruin of this family, which they caused, can 
 illuminate their obstinate minds, and induce them to renounce the 
 cruel principles of tyranny. The bitter fate of the father is not 
 sufficient to divert an obstinate son from pursuing the dangerous path 
 which led him to destruction; such are all the tories. They sacri- 
 fice their rank, their fortune, their existence, to their prejudices and 
 thirst of domination. When the inauspicious reign of the Stuarts 
 had visited our island with foreign servitude and civil war, then the 
 tories. trampling upon national honor and public felicity, abandoned 
 themselves to joy. Their maxims coincide with those of the abso- 
 lute princes of Europe, and they would not blush to place their 
 country in such hands if, in so doing, their ambition might receive a 
 new support. All the countries of Europe are subject to sovereigns 
 whose power is without limits. England alone, by the special favor 
 of Providence, enjoys a moderate and free government ; but the 
 tories would fain subvert it to establish the uniformity of despotism 
 throughout all European countries. Their hearts are contaminated 
 with all the vices of proud, perfidious, and profligate courts ; with 
 their infected breath they propagate them, like a pestilence, over the 
 whole nation. Thev esteem no man but for his baseness; they 
 
276 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 honor none but the proud and the arrogant. Their superiors they 
 flatter, their inferiors they oppress ; the prosperous they envy, the 
 unfortunate they rarely succour, and never but from vain glory. The 
 public felicity becomes in their hands the instrument of slavery, and 
 our submission they deem far more essential than our prosperity. 
 The sovereign good they place in absolute dominion ; and the best 
 possible state of society they believe lo consist in mute servitude. 
 Revolutions they applaud when they conduct a people to tyranny ; 
 they deplore their mischiefs with a hypocritical pity, they exaggerate 
 them with the gloss of words, when liberty is to be their fruit. The 
 argument of public tranquillity is always upon their lips ; but when 
 were they ever heard to speak of the abuses of arbitrary power, of 
 consuming taxes, of the vexations of the powerful, of injuries with- 
 out reparations, and of outrages without redress . ? If they are now 
 opposed to the cause of the Americans, it is because it clashes with 
 their plan of attack against the happy free government of our country, 
 and their schemes for introducing into the very heart of the kingdom 
 the laws of Charles and of James. They flatter themselves, that 
 after having strangled the germs of liberty in America, and vanquished 
 those generous spirits, victorious troops will also know how to bend 
 our necks to the same cruel yoke. Such are the thoughts, such the 
 desires that agitate them without intermission, and not the wish to see 
 the return of peace upon that unfortunate continent where they have 
 themselves kindled the flames of war. Let us then prevent such 
 fatal designs, let us preserve in its integrity the inheritance which our 
 ancestors, thanks to their valor, to their generosity, and to the mag- 
 nanimous enterprises of the great William III. have handed down 
 to us. Thus shall we serve our country, and perhaps even the house 
 of Brunswick, which cannot without danger show itself ungrateful 
 towards the friends of liberty, nor depart with safety from those 
 maxims which have raised it to the British throne.' 
 
 The tories answered these declamations with no little warmth. 
 1 It ill becomes the whigs,' they said, ' to tax us with cruelty and 
 arrogance, since no one is ignorant what their conduct was, when, 
 in the time of the commonwealth, and even under the monarchy, 
 they had the supreme poxver in their hands ; then did exile, con- 
 fiscations and scaffolds spread desolation and ruin over our unhappy 
 country ; then prisons and chains were the instruments of popular 
 clemency ! If a generous prince had not arrested their career of 
 anarchy and blood, if he had not substituted, by the aid of all good 
 citizens, a system of liberty, so dear to the tories, England would 
 have seen her last hour, and fallen a prey to foreign enemies. But, 
 what is, in fact, our desire ? That in every affair which interests the 
 nation, that in every controversy which divides it, there should be a 
 supreme authority to regulate and to determine them irrevocably ; 
 and this authority, we believe, to reside in the king, united with the 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 277 
 
 parliament. But the republicans will not submit to the- laws of this 
 legitimate authority, but are in chase of nobody knows what popular 
 authority, which they pretend to consist in the universality of the 
 citizens, as if a tumultuary, ignorant, and partial multitude, should 
 or could judge of objects wherein the eyes even of the most enlight- 
 ened and prudent discover the greatest difficulties.' 
 
 ' A way must, however, be found to terminate national dissentions ; 
 are they to be referred to the decision of a populace ever more apt 
 to be misled by daring and profligate demagogues, than to be guided 
 by men of prudence and of virtue ; of a rabble that hunger itself puts 
 in the power of the first intriguer ? For this purpose kings and the 
 parliament have been instituted ; it is for this end that, in the ordinary 
 direction of affairs, as well as in unforeseen and difficult cases, they 
 provide, and watch that the country should experience no detriment.' 
 
 ' In the present dispute with America, have the ministers acted 
 singly and of their own motion ? The king and the parliament have 
 decreed, have approved all their measures ; this consideration ought 
 to have grfttFweight with every man who is a friend to public author- 
 ity, and to the principles of the constitution. But the whigs are 
 gasping for the moment to arrive when England, as well as America, 
 shall be a prey to an unbridled multitude, in order to be able to 
 enrich themselves by plunder, to gratify their insatiable ambition, 
 and to operate the total subversion of this free government. These 
 pretended patriots are the sons and representatives of the repub- 
 licans who desolated the kingdom in the last century. They din the 
 name of liberty continually in our ears, because they desire them- 
 selves to exercise tyranny. Under the pretext of the public safety 
 they violate and trample under foot every form, every civil institu- 
 tion ; they arrogate to themselves all the plenitude of arbitrary 
 power. If they manifest an utter contempt for the laws which are 
 the protectors of persons, of property, and of honor, their cruelty is 
 not less conspicuous ; for an opinion, whether real or supposed, or 
 maliciously imputed, for a suspicion, for a chimera, they fly into a 
 rage, they rush to persecutions ; they plunge into misery the fathers 
 of families, the fathers of the country, the best, the most useful, the 
 most respectable citizens. They fawn upon the people so long as 
 they are the weaker ; but once become the stronger, they crush 
 them, they decimate them, they starve them, and adding derison to 
 barbarity, they never cease to protest they do it all to render them 
 happy. These friends of liberty are perpetually declaiming against 
 the vices of courts, as if pillage, both public and private, the scan- 
 dalous profusion of ill gotten wealth, the turpitude of debauch, the 
 violation of the marriage bed, the infamous price extorted from 
 faithful wives to redeem their husbands' blood, the public triumph 
 of courtesans, the baseness of cringing to the vilest of men, as if all 
 the horrors which have signalised the reign of these republicans 
 
278 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 were good and laudable customs ! But whatever be the plots, the 
 wishes, and the hopes of this turbulent race of men, of these parti- 
 sans of lawless licentiousness, which they attempt in vain to invest 
 with the name of liberty, let them rest assured it is firmly resolved 
 to resist them, to preserve the public tranquillity, to secure to the 
 laws that obedience which is their due, and to carry into execution 
 against the rebellious Americans, those acts which have solemnly 
 emanated from the royal authority, and from that of the parliament. 
 The force of circumstances, the royalty of the people, and the recol- 
 lection of the past tyranny of pretended patriots, will cause all their 
 vociferations, all their manoeuvres, all their incendiary attempts, to 
 avail them nothing. As for the rest, the tories, and not their adver- 
 saries, are the real friends of liberty ; for liberty consists not in 
 calling the populace at every moment to intervene in the direction 
 of state affairs, but in faithfully obeying those fundamental statutes, 
 which are the result of the general will of the nation, and which 
 balance and temper the royal authority by the authority of the 
 people.' 
 
 With such animosity, with such reciprocal bitterness, the two 
 political parties assailed each other. It appeared inevitable that 
 this must soon lead to some violent convulsion, and all prudent men 
 were seized with anxious apprehensions. And here, perhaps, is the 
 place to remark how remote are human minds from all moderation, 
 from all sense of decency, when once under the control of party 
 zeal. Assuredly, if at the different epochs of the domination of the 
 royalists and of the republicans, the one party and the other aban- 
 doned themselves to culpable excesses, it is not that there were not 
 amongst them men of rectitude, who, if they judged ill, yet meant 
 well ; with such, every form of government would be good, provid- 
 ed it was not purely despotic. But the ambitious, a race unfortu- 
 nately so prolific, are the most fatal scourge in every well constituted 
 state ; always in opposition with the laws of their country, they shake 
 off their restraint the first moment they can, and thus pave the way 
 to revolutions and the reign of arbitrary power. The legislator, 
 who is desirous to found a government upon a solid basis, should 
 pay less attention to forms, whether monarchical or republican, than 
 to the establishment of laws calculated to repress the ambitious. It 
 is not for us to pronounce whether such laws have ever yet existed, 
 or whether they could accomplish the end proposed ; but we may 
 confidently affirm, that men of moderation are not to be blamed for 
 desiring either a royally or a republic ; the ambitious alone are to 
 be feared and detested, for they are those who cause monarchies to 
 degenerate into tyrannical despotism, and republics into anarchy, 
 more tyrannical still. 
 
 Such was the general agitation in England, when it was increased 
 by the declaration of lord Dartmouth, one of the secretaries of 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 279 
 
 state, to Penn and Lee, who had brought the petition of congress 
 addressed to the king, that no answer would be given to it. The 
 partisans of the Americans expressed their indignation without re- 
 serve ; they censured with new asperity the impolitic obstinacy of 
 the ministers. The latter had defenders who answered ; 
 
 'It is time to act; the nation has conceived great hopes; all 
 Europe is in suspense to see what will be the fruit of our tardy re- 
 solutions, and the result of our preparations. It is necessary to 
 strike home, and push with vigor this war which Great Britain, with 
 a patience unexampled, has wished to avoid ; but to which insolent 
 and contumacious subjects have defied and provoked her by too 
 many outrages.' 
 
 This language of the ministerial party acted powerfully upon a 
 nation naturally brave as well as proud ; and the public mind be- 
 came gradually disposed to war, although there still appeared 
 frequent petitions in favor of peace. About this time, disastrous 
 news was received of the Newfoundland fisheries. The Congress 
 having prohibited all transportation of provisions to these banks, the 
 fishermen, to avoid famishing, were compelled to abandon them pre- 
 cipitately, and repair to other shores. But another misfortune more 
 formidable awaited them ; the sea swelling all at once, with unusual 
 fury, rose more than thirty feet above its ordinary level. The irrup- 
 tion was so sudden, that all means of safety were of no avail ; more 
 than seven hundred fishing barks were overwhelmed, and perished 
 with their crews. Several large ships also foundered with all on 
 board. The devastation was no less terrible upon land ; the pro- 
 gress of the wide inundation was marked with universal destruction. 
 This fatal event made a serious impression in England ; it was 
 looked upon as a presage of ill. It seemed as if fortune was every 
 where irritated against the British empire. Superstition chilled their 
 spirits. They were induced to form discouraging comparisons. 
 
 On the part of the colonists, a propitious sky, abundance of pro- 
 visions, health of troops, success of arms, multitudes crowding to 
 their standards. On the part of the English, on the contrary, an 
 army besieged, mortal diseases, wounds incurable, toil and pain, 
 famine, every species of suffering ; an angry sky, a furious sea, hor- 
 rible shipwrecks, martial ardor extinct, every thing in rapid declen- 
 sion. Tiie antagonists of government either from ambition or the 
 love of liberty, the merchants from personal interest or zeal for the 
 public good, seized this moment of general discouragement. Peti- 
 tions against the war arrived. from all parts; the cities of London 
 arid Bristol were the first to send them. They expatiated upon the 
 blood that was*about to be shed, the treasure to be expended, the new 
 enemies to be encountered ; it was represented that the obstinacy 
 of the colonists would render even victory too costly ; that the victor 
 and the vanquished would be involved in one common ruin. Thev 
 
280 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI, 
 
 exhorted, they prayed, they conjured the government to renounce 
 hostile resolutions which promised no good, and threatened so many 
 disasters. 
 
 But the ministers were not to be shaken .by remonstrances. The 
 animosity of their adversaries was, however, increased by an inci- 
 dent which drew the attention of all ; the Earl of Effingham, an 
 officer distinguished for his services, and possessed of an ample 
 fortune, had, upon all occasions, defended with great warmth the 
 cause of the colonists. Not willing to betray his conscience, he 
 offered the king his resignation ; his conduct was greatly applauded ; 
 the cities of London, of Dublin and others, commended and thanked 
 him in public letters. Many other officers followed his example ; 
 resignations became frequent. Those who from taste give their 
 attention to political matters, will, no doubt, observe upon this occa- 
 sion, with what facility in England an opinion at variance with that 
 of the government may be openly professed ; since its opponents, 
 instead of exposing themselves to its vengeance, often become the 
 objects of public favor. And upon consideration of the enterprises 
 executed in various times by the British nation, and the energy with 
 which it has sustained long wars against the most formidable powers, 
 it is impossible not to perceive how much they deceive themselves 
 who think that a free government enfeebles nations, and that their 
 force can only be completely developed by despotism. 
 
 The declamations of the party in opposition, and the numerous 
 resignations of officers, had caused the affair of enlistments to labor 
 extremely. It was in vain that the officers appointed for this service 
 caused the drums to beat, and the royal standard to be erected in 
 the most populous cities ; in vain did they promise bounties and ex- 
 orbitant pay ; scarcely, a few individuals came to offer their service ; 
 Catholics and Protestants, all manifested an equal repugnance. 
 
 Not but that among the inhabitants of the northern parts of Great 
 Britain, the regiments found wherewith to recruit themselves ; but 
 this resource was altogether inadequate to the exigency. The minis- 
 ters therefore found themselves in the greatest embarrassment ; to 
 extricate themselves from which, they determined to have recourse 
 to foreign aid. With gold, which they had in abundance, they hoped 
 to procure themselves men, of whom they had so much need. Ac- 
 cordingly, to this end they made overtures to the court ol St. Peters- 
 burgh, in order to obtain twenty thousand Russians, that were to 
 have been transported to America the following spring. They made 
 great dependence upon these soldiers, who, in the preceding war 
 against the Turks, had acquired a brilliant reputation for bravery 
 and discipline. But their hopes were not realised ; this government 
 would not consent that its soldiers should enter into foreign service, 
 and for a small sum of gold, shed their blood in a quarrel wherein 
 Russia had no sort of interest. The ministers then turned their 
 
BOOK TI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 281 
 
 views in the direction of the United Provinces. The States-General 
 had in their pay some Scotch battalions ; and these the English 
 government demanded in order to employ them in the American 
 war. It was hoped that "their ancient alliance, and other common 
 interests, would easily determine the States-General to comply with 
 this demand. But it appeared of such extreme importance to the 
 States, that not presuming to take the decision of it upon themselves, 
 they chose to consult the provincial assemblies. Those of Zeland 
 and of Utrecht gave their consent, Holland and the others refused. 
 John Derk, of Chapelle, spoke with great force against the proposi- 
 tion in the assembly of Overyssel. He said it was too far beneath 
 the dignity of the republic to intermeddle in the quarrels of a foreign 
 nation ; that the forces of Holland were too weak, and her com- 
 merce too flourishing, for her to interfere so imprudently in the 
 disputes of others ; that if she succoured England against America, 
 other very powerful states, alluding to France, would succour Ame- 
 rica against England, and that thus the United Provinces would find 
 themselves drawn into a dangerous war. He reminded of the 
 tyranny exercised by the English upon the seas, the forced visit of 
 the Dutch vessels, and the confiscation of their cargoes, under pre- 
 text of contraband. He omitted not to paint the cruel character of 
 this war, in which the ferocious Indians were already taken into the 
 English pay. The opinion of the orator prevailed, and there was 
 every motive that it should. The Dutch considered the American 
 cause very similar to that of their ancestors, and it appeared to them 
 intolerable to concur in chastising those who followed their own 
 example. The English party and the French party manifested in 
 this occurrence an astonishing conformity of opinion ; the first, be- 
 cause they feared that violent means would force the Americans at 
 length to throw themselves into the arms of France ; the second, 
 because they wished to see humbled the pride and the power of the 
 British nation. It is certain, that at this epoch, the prosperity and 
 opulence of England excited the envy of the universe, and that her 
 haughty behavior filled all hearts with a secret enmity. 
 
 But the ministers having despatched numerous agents into Germany, 
 obtained more success with the princes of the Houses of Hesse, of 
 Brunswick, and other petty sovereigns of this country. They ac- 
 ceded to a convention which filled the cabinet of Saint James with 
 alacrity and with hope ; the ministers were overjoyed that German 
 promptitude should, in so pressing a need, have counterbalanced 
 English reluctance. 
 
 A double advantage was found in the employment of German 
 troops. They had never darkened their minds with abstruse questions 
 of liberty and public law ; and the difference of language was a 
 security against the efforts which the Americans might have made to 
 mislead and seduce them to join their party. This apprehension 
 VOL. i. 36 
 
282 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 caused the ministry great anxiety with respect to the English soldiers, 
 who spoke the same dialect as the Americans, and went to combat 
 men who defended, or appeared to defend, a cause more favorable 
 to the subjects than to the government. 
 
 When the news got abroad in England of the treaty of subsidy 
 with the German princes, it would be difficult to describe the fury of 
 the opponents of the ministry. Many even among their own parti- 
 sans were heard to condemn their conduct with asperity. They said, 
 it was a scandalous thing that the mercenary soldiers of foreign 
 princes should corne to interfere in domestic dissentions ; that daring 
 and artful ministers might one day take advantage of this fatal exam- 
 ple to subvert the established constitution, and to put down all liberty 
 in England itself; that when these soldiers should have terminated 
 their enterprise in distant regions, different pretexts might be found 
 for conducting them into places less remote, and perhaps even into 
 the heart of the kingdom ; that this was a state offence, an act of 
 high treason, the having attempted to open the entrance of the 
 British territory to foreign troops without consent of parliament. 
 
 It is certain that no resolution of the ministers had ever produced 
 so much disgust, and so alarming a fermentation among the people, 
 as the present. It rendered more violent the fury of some, alienated 
 others, and appeared to all illegal in principle, perilous in its object, 
 and injurious to the British name ; inasmuch as it seemed an admis- 
 sion that the English were not in a situation to adjust of themselves 
 this great quarrel. The disapprobation was general, the cause of the 
 war and the obstinacy of *n5nisters began to be openly condemned. 
 
 In the midst of this effervescence the parliament was convoked. 
 But before entering into a description of the debates which took 
 place in this session, it appears to us necessary to relate what were, 
 at this time, the designs of the ministry relative to the American war. 
 Perceiving how odious they were become to the nation for never 
 having consented to hear of any proposition of accord, and for hav- 
 ing wanted either the capacity or the will to carry on the war with 
 adequate preparations, they resolved at length to manifest extraor- 
 dinary vigor and to employ against the Americans a force so formi- 
 dable as to leave them no hope of resistance. 
 
 They could not but perceive how greatly the reputation of the 
 British arms had already suffered ; and they saw how important it 
 was to apply a prompt remedy in order to prevent the worst conse- 
 quences, and especially a war with the European powers. Although 
 they often affected to congratulate themselves upon the good dispo- 
 sitions of these powers, they were nevertheless persuaded that this 
 neutrality could not continue, if the war drew into length, and always 
 to the prejudice of England. It was easy to believe that France 
 had eyes open upon what passed, and that she waited but for the 
 occasion to show herself. 
 
UOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 283 
 
 The English ministers at this epoch, however stinted the measure 
 of their magnanimity and sagacity, were still not so simple as to be 
 deluded by friendly protestations, which are lavished with the more 
 profusion the more they are void of sincerity. It was known that in all 
 the ports of France the most strenuous exertions were employed in 
 equipping ships of war and accumulating naval munitions, and that 
 the government was animated with an ardent desire to repair recent 
 losses, and to restore all the force and the splendor of the French 
 marine; that the entire nation applauded the views of the court, and 
 demonstrated the utmost promptitude to second them. Besides, it 
 was no longer a mystery that munitions of war were daily expedited 
 from the French ports for America, if not by the orders of the 
 government itself, at least with its tacit concurrence. It was observed, 
 not without extreme jealousy, that the French had lately despatched 
 a numerous fleet to the West Indies, and that their land troops so 
 increased in that quarter, that they already had the appearance of an 
 army prepared to take the field. It had been seen with disquietude 
 that French officers were in conference, for the space of many days, 
 with general Washington, at the camp of'Boston, and that they were 
 afterwards admitted to an audience by the Congress. The past 
 admonished the English ministry of the future. In no time had war 
 broken out in America that the French and British nations had not 
 taken part in it, the one against the other. It was, therefore, natural 
 to think, that such also would be the event this time ; it was even the 
 more probable now that interests were at stake of far greater moment 
 than had ever before been agitated between the two powers. France 
 manifested in her conduct an admirable address. She would not 
 throw offthe mask in these beginnings, either because she feared that 
 by engaging prematurely in the defence of the Americans, the 
 English government might be induced to offer them such terms of 
 accommodation as, in reconciling the two parties, would turn their 
 united forces against her; or especially because she was not yet 
 entirely prepared for maritime war. She wished to temporise until 
 her armaments were completed, and until the continuation of recipro- 
 cal outrages should have rendered all arrangement impossible. It 
 was also important for her to wait till the Americans, more enlightened 
 with respect to their situation, and encouraged by the success of 
 their arms, should have decided at length to proclaim their independ- 
 ence. All reconciliation then became impracticable ; as well on 
 account of the greater exasperation of minds, and the aggravation of 
 offences, as from the absolute contrariety of the scope towards which 
 the two parties tended. 
 
 There would no longer be any question of an accord under certain 
 conditions ; the separation must then be total. Such was the thought 
 of the French government relative to the time in which it ought to dis- 
 cover itself. But in order that the Americans might noflose all hope, 
 
284 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 it was determined to grant them clandestinely all the succours, and to 
 make them all the promises proper to inspire them with confidence in 
 a more efficacious cooperation at a suitable time. 
 
 Nor could it be doubted, that when France should have resolved 
 to support the Americans without disguise, Spain also would imme- 
 diately espouse the same cause, as well in consequence of the family 
 compact, as from the identity of interests, and perhaps even from an 
 earnest desire to efface the recent stain of the unfortunate expedition 
 against Algiers. 
 
 All these dangers were continually present in the minds of the 
 British ministry; they resolved, therefore, to prevent them by- 
 measures as prompt as energetic. 
 
 Independently of the arms and munitions which the arsenals and 
 armories of England could furnish in abundance, the government 
 ordained that eighty ships of war should be stationed upon the coasts 
 of America to favor the transportation of troops and of munitions 
 wherever the good of the service might require, to second all the 
 operations of the army, to traverse those of the enemy, and to destroy 
 his marine. 
 
 Exclusively of the corps already found in America, it was deter- 
 mined to send thither upwards of forty-two thousand men, of regular 
 troops, between English and Germans ; that is twenty-five thousand of 
 the first, and a little more than seventeen thousand of the second. 
 These German troops were composed of four thousand three hundred 
 Brunswickers, twelve thousand three hundred and ninety-four Hes- 
 sians of the Landgrave, and six hundred and sixty-eight of the 
 hereditary prince of Hesse, count of Hanau.* 
 
 In adding to this number all the recruits of Canada, the corps of 
 American Royalists and Indians, a totality was hoped for of fifty-five 
 thousand men, supposing the companies all complete. But every 
 deduction made, it was deemed a certainty that in any event the army 
 would exceed forty thousand effective combatants ; a force that was 
 believed more than sufficient to subdue all America. 
 
 The ministers also thought it expedient to accompany the prepara- 
 tions of war with several particular provisions, which they considered 
 as very proper to second the effect of them. Knowing, for example, 
 how much the Americans were in want of money, and that they had 
 no means to procure it but by the way of commerce, they resolved to 
 interrupt it entirely, hoping that private interest would carry it against 
 political obstinacy, and that the absolute failure of metallic currency 
 would subject the bills of credit to a fatal depression. On the other 
 hand, in order not to reduce the Americans to seek their safety in 
 
 * England contracted for the German troops upon the conditions following. She 
 gave a Brunswicker, seven guineas levy money, and four and a half pence sterling daily; 
 a Hessian of the Landgrave seven guineas bounty, and five and a half pence sterling 
 pay ; a Hessian of the hereditary prince, seven guineas bounty, and sixpence sterling a 
 day. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 285 
 
 despair, they thought it best to authorise certain royal commissioners 
 to grant individual amnesties. They persuaded themselves that many 
 of them, vanquished by such clemency, would throw themselves into 
 the arms of England, or, at least, that the more timid would lay 
 down arms, and recompose themselves in their accustomed tran- 
 quillity. The rest, according to their ideas, might then be easily 
 overpowered. Such were the measures the ministers had matured, 
 and which they intended to submit to the deliberations of parliament. 
 The king pronounced, on opening the session, a very remarkable 
 discourse ; he spoke of the machinations employed in America to 
 seduce the people, and infect them with opinions repugnant to the 
 constitution, and to their subordination towards Great Britain. He 
 said the insurgents now openly avowed their resistance and revolt, and 
 had assumed to themselves all the powers of government ; that in 
 order to amuse they had made specious protestations of loyalty, but 
 that'in fact. they were aiming at independence; that he hoped, how- 
 ever, the spirit of the British nation was too high, and her resources 
 too numerous, tamely to give up that which had been acquired with 
 so many cares, and with so many toils : that it was now become the 
 part of wisdom to put a speedy end to these disorders, by the display 
 of all the forces of the kingdom ; but that as clemency was always to 
 be preferred to rigor, his intention was to grant particular pardons, 
 and to withdraw, from the calamities of war, the persons and the 
 places that should give evidence of their fidelity. The ministers 
 moved for the usual address of thanks to the king, and that the mea- 
 sures proposed should be approved. 
 
 But lord John Cavendish answered them with an extreme vehemence, 
 that he could not sufficiently testify his surprise at their obstinacy in pur- 
 suing a plan which had already produced such deplorable results. 
 
 6 You see one half the empire lost, the other discontented and tot- 
 tering ; a kingdom of late the most prosperous, now sinking under 
 every misfortune ; a nation once renowned for its virtues, now con- 
 taminated with corruption ; and arrived in the train of every vice, 
 losses, discomfiture and shame. The Americans are charged with 
 planning independency ; certainly it is not the merit of England that 
 they have not yet adopted such a resolution, for the ministers have 
 neglected no possible violence to compel them to it. They are 
 charged with dissimulation ; but they have constantly affirmed that 
 the terms of reconciliation were those of returning to the state of 
 things existing in 1763. It is desired to send against them numerous 
 armies and formidable fleets ; but they are at home surrounded by 
 friends, and abounding in all things. The English are at an immense 
 distance, stinted in the means of subsistence; having for enemies, 
 climate, winds, and men. And what wealth, what treasures, will not 
 be necessary to subsist your troops in those distant countries ! 
 Impenetrable forests, inaccessible mountains will serve the Americans, 
 
286 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 in case of disaster, as so many retreats and fortresses, whence they 
 will rush forth upon you anew. You will, therefore, be under a con- 
 stant necessity to conquer or die ; or what is worse than death, to fly 
 ignorniniously to your ships. The Americans will avail themselves 
 of the knowledge of places, which they only have, to harass the 
 British troops, to intercept the ways, to cut off supplies, to surprise 
 outposts, to exhaust, to consume, to temporise and prolong, at will, 
 the duration of the war. Imagine not that they will expose themselves 
 to the hazard of battles ; they will vanquish us by dint of fatigue, 
 placed, as we shall be, at a distance of three thousand miles from our 
 country. It will be easy for them, impossible for us, to receive con- 
 tinual reenforcements. They will know how to use the occasion of 
 their temporary superiority to strike decisive blows; the tardy suc- 
 cours that may arrive to us by the Atlantic, will not prevent our 
 reverses; they will learn, in our school, the use of arms and the art 
 of war ; they will eventually give their masters fatal proofs of their 
 proficiency. 
 
 ' But let victory be supposed, can there be any doubt that it will be 
 sanguinary, that its results will be lands laid waste, towns desolated 
 by fire, subjects envenomed by implacable hatred, the prosperity of 
 commerce annihilated, and reciprocal distrusts always ready to rekin- 
 dle war. Long have standing armies been considered as dangerous to 
 liberty ; but the protracted and difficult war which you are about to 
 engage in will enormously increase these armies. Is it to dissipate 
 our fears on this point that ministers subsidise these bands of Ger- 
 mans, an excellent race assuredly, but admirably adapted to serve 
 the purposes of the fautors of despotism ? I have supposed that we 
 shall be victorious, let us now suppose we should be beaten. Who 
 will restore our treasures exhausted, our commerce annihilated, the 
 spirit of our troops extinguished, our national glory, first source of 
 public virtue, unworthily eclipsed ? Who will efface the stigma brand- 
 ed upon the British name ? In our reverses we shall not have the 
 consolation of having acted with maturity of reflection, or that of 
 having been taken unawares. The quarrel of America will soon be- 
 come the quarrel of Europe ; and if our country perish not therein, 
 it must be attributed rather to its happy star than to the wisdom of 
 those who govern it. Such is the importance, such are the conse- 
 quences- of the subject, that I cannot but deem it an incomprehensi- 
 ble fact to see the passions allowed full scope on every side, instead 
 of that calm which ought to preside jn the consideration of our me- 
 lancholy situation, and in the investigation of the most prompt, the 
 most efficacious, and the most expedient remedies. Let us, there- 
 fore, unite in praying, in conjuring his majesty to suspend the effects 
 of his anger, and to prevent the running with such precipitation to 
 shed English blood by English hands. Rather let it be studied to 
 calm and conciliate minds, to search out the causes of our discords, 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 287 
 
 to discover the means which may enable us to rejoin the lacerated 
 parts of the British empire. Let us labor to restore to the govern- 
 ment its majesty, to the laws the obedience which is their clue, to the 
 parliament its legitimate authority, and to the British people the tran- 
 quillity and happiness of which they are so eminently worthy.' 
 
 The temper of the assembly was favorable ; the vehement dis- 
 course of lord Cavendish had made a profound impression upon the 
 minds of all. But the partisans of the ministry answered him with 
 equal warmth. 
 
 ' We find it not easy to comprehend, they said, how these elo- 
 quent orators, who make such parade of their patriotism, can lavish 
 so many pathetic flourishes to justify those who are found in rebellion 
 against the authority of Great Britain? we are ignorant what strange 
 pleasure they can take in embarrassing the government in its opera- 
 tions in the midst of so difficult a crisis. It is equally hard for us to 
 conceive what motives they can have for wishing to demonstrate that 
 the Americans will of necessity prove victorious. That such should 
 be the language of Congress, and of the proclamations of Washing- 
 ton, nothing is less surprising ; but that it is found in the mouth of an 
 Englishman, of one of the fathers of the country, that we should see 
 him glory in such assertions, and study to propagate them, is what 
 cannot excite too much astonishment and indignation. 
 
 1 It is affirmed the Americans are not aiming at independence ; this 
 we readily admit, if it is intended to maintain that they are not con- 
 tending to have, but already possess- and exercise this absolute inde- 
 pendence. Have they not concentrated in their hands all the authority 
 of government, in coining money, in creating bills of credit, in impos- 
 ing taxes, in making levies, in declaring war, in committing; hostilities, 
 in granting letters of mark and reprisal ? But the kind confiding per- 
 sonages, seated in front of us, answer that the colonists protest their 
 devotion, and reject all idea of independency. New doctrine, indeed,, 
 that we are to give more credit to words than to facts ! But while 
 these credulous beings harangue within these walls, the Americans 
 model and carry into effect a new fcrrn of government, no doubt to 
 preserve the ancient constitution, and to unite themselves more inti- 
 mately with Great Britain ! 
 
 ' They have proposed, we are told, conditions of accommodation ; 
 in what do they consist ? In consenting to acknowledge the same 
 sovereign. Assuredly they will acknowledge him, provided they may 
 be excused from obeying his orders, and permitted to act their own 
 will entire. And is it desired that England should stoop to such an 
 arrangement, which, if it be not outrageous, is at least ridiculous. 
 The parliament has opened a way of conciliation, whereby, if the 
 right of taxation was not entirely renounced, it was certainly so 
 restricted that the Americans were allowed to tax themselves. But 
 we have to do with men who are alike insensible to benefits and to 
 
288 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 clemency. With what words, with what a tone have they received 
 our propositions . ? The universe knows it, and our secret enemies 
 themselves have been astonished at it. If England must resolve to 
 submit to such degradation, if she must give up honor, so essential to 
 monarchies, if instead of taking arms against an enemy who defies 
 us, who despises the government and the agents of Great Britain, we 
 must bow with humility to his demands, continually more imperious, 
 then let us blindly pursue the course which is marked out for us by 
 our adversaries. That to reduce the colonies to obedience is an 
 enterprise which may offer some difficulties, no one undertakes to 
 deny. But the greater the difficulty, the greater the glory. 
 
 ' Those who would sow discouragement among us, little know the 
 ability of the English generals, and the valor of our soldiers. The 
 powerful house of Bourbon combined against us in the last war, was 
 unable to make us bend ; and the king of Prussia has found, in our 
 assistance, the means of resisting the league of the North. England 
 is queen of the seas ; she has conquered those same countries which 
 her ungrateful subjects now inhabit ; and will she not be able to sub- 
 due also them ? 
 
 1 It is not impossible, we admit, that some European powers will 
 take part in this war ; especially considering our prosperity, the envy 
 of foreigners, and the arts of these Americans, always busied in 
 exciting the whole world against us. But are we to be influenced in 
 our counsels by the desires or by the injustice of others ? Let us do 
 what we ought, to prevent what we fear. With arms we may com- 
 mand respect, while a timid policy would expose us to contempt. 
 
 4 War pursues the weak, but retires from the strong. What chi- 
 meras, too, these scrupulous spirits have been dreaming of about 
 those innocent Germans, it is not easy to say. The example of mer- 
 cenary troops is not new ; their employment has always been without 
 danger. Foreign soldiers are not those who could establish servitude 
 upon the soil of England, but minds disposed to slavery ; now, the 
 clamors and exaggerations of demagogues more often lead to this, 
 than the schemes of governments themselves. As to these long la- 
 mentations over the vices of the present day, we, for our part, have 
 no hesitation to say, that we have a better opinion of a people among 
 whom the sincerest respect is shown for good habits, whose civilisa- 
 tion has rendered them famous throughout the world, and who have 
 achieved so many great actions, as well in peace, as in war. These 
 imputations are but the phantoms of a morbid imagination, or the 
 suggestions of the secret rage of these ambitious minds, who persuade 
 themselves that no virtue can exist so long as they are not invested 
 with supreme power. The destiny of Great Britain is now in the 
 balance. After having seen her empire equally flourishing by land 
 and by sea, and her fortune surpass that of all the other states of 
 Christendom, the question is now, whether this prosperity shall COR- 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 289 
 
 tiriue, whether these rich and powerful colonies, the work of our 
 hands, the fruit of our industry, the object of all our cares, the price 
 of so much treasure and of so much blood, shall henceforth, by tiie 
 unheard of ingratitude of their inhabitants themselves, by the artful 
 machinations of their false friends, and of our secret enemies, be 
 dismembered from their ancient country, and lorn forever from the 
 affectionate embraces of their tender mother ? patiently to endure 
 an event so calamitous, not to lavish our efforts, our fortunes, our life 
 itself, to prevent its accomplishment, would be a turpitude which has 
 no example in our history, and an approbrium from which we ought 
 to preserve the British name.' 
 
 Thus spoke the ministerial orators ; the votes were taken, and the 
 motion of lord Cavendish was rejected. Some other members of 
 the opposition proposed, with as little success, different plans of con- 
 ciliation with the colonies. The debates were very animated ; but 
 the ministers, whose projects were already arranged, and all the 
 preparations of war concluded, had no difficulty in obtaining the 
 rejection of every contrary opinion. 
 
 Not satisfied with finding themselves in a situation to attack the 
 insurgents, they wished also to cut off their principal resources, that 
 is, to deprive them of men, arms, and money. The Americans 
 employed a part of their men on board of privateers ; they derived 
 their arms and munitions, either secretly, or even openly, from 
 foreign countries ; and commerce furnished them with money. Ac- 
 cordingly, the ministers proposed a bill, importing that every species 
 of traffic with the thirteen united colonies should be prohibited ; that 
 all American property, whether floating upon the sea or stationed in 
 the ports, should be declared legal prize in favor of the officers and 
 crews of the vessels of the king ; that the men taken in the Ame- 
 rican ships should be compelled to serve indiscriminately, as common 
 sailors, on board those of England ; finally, that the crown should 
 be authorised to send commissioners, empowered to grant pardons 
 to such individuals as should appear to merit them, and to declare a 
 colony, in whole or in part, in a state of obedience towards the king ; 
 in which case they might exempt them from the rigor of the laws, 
 and restore them to their original condition. 
 
 This bill was a consequence of those already passed ; it was con- 
 formable to the plan of the war which the ministers had adopted, 
 and was generally to be approved. It contained, however, certain 
 articles deserving of animadversion. To wish to make war against 
 the Americans, upon sea as well as upon land, was altogether na- 
 tural ; it was no less judicious to constitute commissioners with 
 authority to grant amnesties, as well to particular individuals as to 
 provinces. But to confiscate, without distinction, private property 
 and public property, to grant the booty to the captors, and force the 
 men found on board the American ships, whatever might be their 
 VOL. i. 37 
 
290 THE AMERICAN WAR. - BOOK VI. 
 
 rank or condition, to serve as common sailors on board the English 
 ships, are acts that cannot fail to be condemned by every sound 
 judging mind. The opposition expressed their abhorrence of these 
 features of the bill in very sharp language ; but it passed, notwith- 
 standing, by a triumphant majority. 
 
 1776. The parliament having terminated the affairs submitted 
 to their deliberations, the king put an end to the present session, 
 with the assurance that he was not apprehensive of any movement 
 on the part of the European princes, who all manifested a desire to 
 maintain concord and peace. The ministers had obtained from the 
 parliament all they had demanded, and they had scarcely a doubt 
 of the favorable issue of their enterprise. It seemed to them impos- 
 sible that the collectitious soldiery of the Congress could hold their 
 arms with a firm grasp in the presence of European troops ; they 
 imagined that the bare rumor of the arrival of the English army 
 would suffice to open for it the entrance of the country it was about 
 to conquer. 
 
 ' Even supposing, they said, that the colonial troops should pre- 
 sume to keep the field, how can it be imagined, that ill-armed, 
 undisciplined, and so little used as they are to the dangers of war, 
 and to the din of arms, they will be able to make any serious resist- 
 ance against the veterans of Europe ? The first impression will be 
 fatal to the Americans ; and the measures which have been taken to 
 sow division among them, will then produce their full effect. Let 
 only a small number submit to the terms of the amnesty, and the 
 multitude will hasten to follow their example ; such is the ordinary 
 course of revolutions. In order to accelerate these happy results, it 
 will be essential that the royal commissioners, individuals as influen- 
 tial by their personal authority, as by the splendor of their rank, and 
 the renown of their military achievements, should be always present 
 to second the operations of the army, by seizing the favorable instant 
 for the exercise of their ministry.' 
 
 Such were the reasonings and the hopes of the partisans of the 
 government. And such, it must be admitted, was the way of think- 
 ing of the greater part of the nation. With some it was the effect 
 of pride, or of confidence in the ministry ; with others, of the spirit 
 of party, or of personal interest, man easily believing what he 
 esteems useful to himself. There wanted not those, however, whom 
 the love of country inspired with serious apprehensions for the future, 
 or whom the fury of faction urged to announce the most disastrous 
 presages. They judged of the obstinacy of the Americans by their 
 own, and suffered no occasion to escape them of citing the miracles, 
 as they expressed it, wrought in various times, and among manifold 
 people, by the love of liberty. They greatly extolled the constancy, 
 the intrepidity, the prowess of the Americans. Their invectives, 
 their sarcasms, their taunts, were endless against the satellites of 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 291 
 
 tyranny ; thus designating the English soldiers, and particularly the 
 German troops. They represented a total loss in defeat, and new 
 dangers in victory ; they deplored the blood shed for so iniquitous a 
 cause. Every day there appeared new publications in favor or 
 against the colonists. Some reproached others with having sold 
 their pen, these retorted upon those that they prostituted theirs in 
 defence of licentiousness. A work of Doctor Price, on civil liberty, 
 was particularly distinguished ; it was read every where with equal 
 avidity. He received, on this subject, a letter of compliment from 
 the city of London, accompanied with the present of a gold box. 
 
 The two brothers Howe, the one admiral of the fleet, and the 
 other general-in-chief of the army in America, were named by the 
 king his commissioners for the reestablishment of peace in the colo- 
 nies, and for granting pardons to those who should appear worthy of 
 the royal mercy. Sir Peter Parker and lord Cornwallis were 
 already, some time since, embarked for America, with several corps 
 of troops. Admiral Hotham, and generals Burgoyne and Phillipps 
 followed them with other English and German divisions. 
 
 While these things were passing in England, the provincials, who 
 besieged Boston, began to entertain hopes not only of becoming 
 masters of the city, but even of making the whole garrison prisoners, 
 and of destroying the British squadron anchored in the port and bay. 
 They expected impatiently that the cold would become so rigorous 
 as to freeze the waters of the harbor, and the rivers that flow into it. 
 The frost usually set in about the last of December, and they calcu- 
 lated that at this season the ice would be strong enough to enable 
 them to march d^shod across the arm of the sea, which separates 
 the peninsula from the continent, where they were encamped. The 
 English, in such case, would not have been able to resist the much 
 superior forces of the American army. But contrary to the ordinary 
 course, the winter was extremely moderate ; the provincials vainly 
 awaited the coming of ice. In this hope they had kept themselves 
 tranquil in their quarters ; the delay was advantageous to the gar- 
 rison. But the month of March arrived to reanimate operations ; 
 the Americans panted to put an end, by a vigorous effort, to this 
 long and tiresome siege. Their ardor prompted it, necessity requir- 
 ed it. The hostile speech of the king, at the meeting of parliament, 
 was arrived in America, and copies of it were circulated in the 
 camp. It was announced there, also, that the first petition of Con- 
 gress had been rejected. The whole army manifested the utmost 
 indignation at this intelligence ; the royal speech was burnt in public 
 by the infuriate soldiers. They changed, at this time, the red 
 ground of their banners, and striped them with thirteen lists, as an 
 emblem of the number, and of the union of the thirteen colonies. 
 
 The Congress, at the news of the rigorous proceedings of the 
 government, and particularly of the act relating to commerce, and 
 
292 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 the engagement of the German troops, saw plainly that no other 
 resources were left them but in the way of arms. Without loss of 
 time, wishing to take advantage of the universal irritation of the 
 people, they urgently recommended to Washington to renounce all 
 delay, to brave all dangers, and at whatever cost, to terminate the 
 siege of Boston, and effectuate the expulsion of the enemy from the 
 shelter of its walls. They foresaw that this army would soon be 
 necessary to oppose the British forces at other points, and to protect 
 other parts of the American territory. It was presumed that the 
 English would direct their principal attack against the weakest 
 places, and serious apprehensions were felt particularly for the city 
 of New York. It was, therefore, extremely important to dislodge 
 the enemy from the position of Boston, since otherwise he might, 
 afterwards, operate against the rear of the American army. Pressed 
 by positive orders, and stimulated at once by the force of circum- 
 stances and the desire of glory, Washington reflected upon the most 
 efficacious means to secure the success of his enterprise. He was 
 not without hopes of being able to carry the city by assault. 
 
 The part of the Cove of Boston, contiguous to Cambridge and 
 Roxbury, was frozen, which greatly facilitated the passage ; and for 
 crossing the water that remained up to the walls of Boston, a great 
 number of boats had been provided. In addition to this, two floating 
 batteries were stationed at the mouth of the river of Cambridge. It 
 was known that the garrison suffered severely for the want of pro- 
 visions, and that it was greatly enfeebled by fatigues and maladies. 
 The commander-in-chief had, besides, the greatest confidence in the 
 valor and constancy of his soldiers. He accordingly assembled all 
 the generals, and proposed to them his plan of attack. Ward and 
 Gates, both officers of great distinction, opposed it ; alleging, that 
 without incurring so great a risk, the enemy might be forced to 
 evacuate Boston by occupying the heights of Dorchester, which com- 
 mand the entire city. Washington did not conceal his dissatisfaction 
 at this opposition ; but he was constrained to acquiesce in the opinion 
 of the majority. It was resolved, therefore, to take the position of 
 the heights. At the suggestion of generals Ward, Thomas, and 
 Spencer, a great quantity of fascines and gabions had been prepared 
 for this expedition. The fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown 
 Point had furnished heavy cannon, and a sufficient number of howit- 
 zers and mortars. It appears that general Howe, who was naturally 
 very circumspect, thought himself too feeble to prevent the execu- 
 tion of this design, which was to be, however, decisive of the total 
 issue of the siege. 
 
 The Americans, in order to occupy the attention of the enemy in 
 another part, erected strong batteries upon the shore at Cobb's Hill, 
 at Lechmere's Point, at Phipps Farm, and at Lambsdam, near Rox- 
 bury. They opened a terrible fire in the night of the second of 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAE. 293 
 
 March ; the bombs, at every instant, fell into the city. The garrison 
 was incessantly employed in extinguishing the flames of the houses 
 in combustion, and in all the different services that are necessary in 
 such circumstances. During this time the Americans prepared 
 themselves with ardor, or rather with joy, to take possession of the 
 heights. Companies of militia arrived from all parts to reenforce 
 the army. The night of the fourth of March was selected for the 
 expedition ; the chiefs hoped that the recollection of the events of 
 the fifth of March, 1770, when the first blood had been shed in 
 Boston by the English, would inflame, with new ardor, and a thirst 
 of vengeance, those spirits already so resolute in their cause. 
 
 Accordingly, in the evening of the fourth, all the arrangements 
 being made, the Americans proceeded in profound silence towards 
 the peninsula of Dorchester. The obscurity of the night was propi- 
 tious, and the wind favorable, since it could not bear to the enemy 
 the little noise which it was impossible to avoid. The frost had 
 rendered the roads easy. The batteries of Phipps Farm, and those 
 of Roxbury, incessantly fulminated with a stupendous roar. 
 
 Eight hundred men composed the vanguard ; it was followed by 
 carriages filled with utensils of intrenchment, and twelve hundred 
 pioneers led by general Thomas. In the rear guard were three 
 hundred carts of fascines, of gabions, and bundles of hay, destined 
 to cover the flank of the troops in the passage of the isthmus of Dor- 
 chester, which, being very low, was exposed to be raked on both 
 sides by the artillery of the English vessels. 
 
 All succeeded perfectly ; the Americans arrived upon the heights, 
 not only without being molested, but even without being perceived by 
 the enemy. 
 
 They set themselves to work with an activity, so prodigious, that 
 by ten o'clock at night they had already constructed two forts, in 
 condition to shelter them from small arms and grape-shot ; one upon 
 the height nearest to the city, and the other upon that which looks 
 towards Castle Island. The day appeared ; but it prevented not 
 the provincials from continuing their works, without any movement 
 being made on the part of the garrison. At length, when the haze 
 of the morning was entirely dissipated, the English discovered, with 
 extreme surprise, the new fortifications of the Americans. 
 
 The English admiral having examined them, declared, that if the 
 enemy was not dislodged from this position, his vessels could no 
 longer remain in the harbor without the most imminent hazard of 
 total destruction. The city itself was exposed to be demolished to 
 its foundations, at the pleasure of the provincials. The communi- 
 cation, also, between the troops that guarded the isthmus of Boston, 
 and those within the town, became extremely difficult and dangerous. 
 The artillery of the Americans battered the strand, whence the 
 English would have to embark in case of retreat. There was no 
 
294 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 other chpice, therefore, left them, but either to drive the colonists 
 from this station by dint of force, or to evacuate the city altogether. 
 
 General Howe decided for the attack, and made his dispositions 
 accordingly. Washington, on his part, having perceived the design, 
 prepared himself to repel it. The intrenchments were perfected 
 with diligence ; the militia was assembled from all the neighboring 
 towns, and signals were concerted to be given upon all the eminences 
 which form a sort of cincture about all the shore of Boston, from 
 Roxbury to Mystic river, in order to transmit intelligence and orders 
 with rapidity from one point to the other. 
 
 Washington exhorted his soldiers to bear in mind the fifth of 
 March. Nor did he restrict himself to defensive measures ; he 
 thought also of the means of falling, himself, upon the enemy, if, 
 during or after the battle, any favorable occasion should present 
 itself. If the besieged, as he hoped, should experience a total defeat 
 in the assault of Dorchester, his intention was to embark from Cam- 
 bridge four thousand chosen men, who rapidly crossing the arm of 
 the sea, should take advantage of the tumult and confusion to attempt 
 the assault of the town. General Sullivan commanded the first divi- 
 sion ; General Greene the second. An attack was expected like 
 that of Charlestown, and a battle like that of Breed's Hill. General 
 Howe ordered ladders to be prepared to scale the works of the 
 Americans. He directed lord Percy to embark at the head of a 
 considerable corps, and to land upon the flats near the point, opposite 
 Castle Island. The Americans, excited by the remembrance of the 
 anniversary, and of the battle of Breed's Hill, and by the continual 
 exhortations of their chiefs, expected them, not only without fear, 
 but with alacrity ; but the tide ebbed, and the wind blew with such 
 violence, that the passage over became impossible. General Howe 
 was compelled to defer the attack to early the following morning. A 
 tempest arose during the night, and when the day dawned, the sea 
 was still excessively agitated. A violent rain came to increase the 
 obstacles ; the English general kept himself quiet. But the Americans 
 made profit of this delay ; they erected a third redoubt, and completed 
 the other works. Colonel Mifflin had prepared a great number of 
 hogsheads full of stones and sand, in order to roll them upon the enemy 
 when he should march up to the assault, to break his ranks, and throw 
 him into a confusion that might smooth the way to his defeat. 
 
 Having diligently surveyed all these dispositions, the English per- 
 suaded themselves that the contemplated enterprise offered difficulties 
 almost insurmountable. They reflected that a repulse, or even a 
 victory so sanguinary as that of Breed's Hill, would expose to a 
 jeopardy too serious, the English interests in America. Even in case 
 of success, it was to be considered that the garrison was not suffi- 
 ciently numerous to be able, without hazard, to keep possession of 
 the peninsula of Dorchester, having already to guard not only the 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 295 
 
 city, but the peninsula of Charlestown. The battle was rather 
 necessary, and victory desirable, to save the reputation of the royal 
 arms, than to decide the total event of things upon these shores. The 
 advantages, therefore, could not compensate the dangers. Besides, 
 the port of Boston was far from being perfectly accommodate to the 
 future operations of the army that was expected from England ; and 
 general Howe himself had, some length of time before, received 
 instructions from lord Dartmouth, one of the Secretaries of State, 
 to evacuate the city, and to establish himself at New York. 
 
 The want of a sufficient number of vessels had hitherto prevented 
 him from executing this order. Upon all these considerations, the 
 English generals determined to abandon Boston to the power of the 
 provincials. 
 
 This retreat, however, presented great difficulties. An hundred 
 and fifty transports, great and small, appeared scarcely adequate to 
 the accommodation of ten thousand men, the number to which the 
 crews and the garrison amounted, without comprehending such of the 
 inhabitants, as having shown themselves favorable to the royal cause, 
 could not, with safety, remain. The passage was long and difficult; 
 for with these emaciated and enfeebled troops it could not be attempt- 
 ed to operate any descent upon the coasts. It was even believed to 
 be scarcely possible to effect a landing at New York, although the 
 city was absolutely without defence on the part of the sea. The 
 surest course appeared to be to gain the port of Halifax ; but besides 
 the want of provisions, which was excessive, the season was very 
 unfavorable for this voyage, at all times dangerous. 
 
 The winds that prevailed then blew violently from the northeast, 
 and might drive the fleet off to the West Indies, and the vessels were 
 by no means stocked with provisions for such a voyage. Besides, 
 the territory of Halifax was a sterile country, from which no resource 
 could be expected, and no provision could have been previously made 
 there, since the evacuation of Boston and retreat to Halifax were 
 events not anticipated. Nor could the soldiers perceive without 
 discouragement that the necessity of things impelled them towards 
 the north, apprised as they were that the future operations of the 
 English army were to take place in the provinces of the centre, and 
 even in those of the south. But their generals had no longer the 
 liberty of choice. The Americans however beiffg able by the fire 
 of their artillery to interpose the greatest obstacles to the embarkation 
 of the British troops, general Howe deliberated upon the means of 
 obviating this inconvenience. Having assembled the selectmen of 
 Boston, he declared to them, that the city being no longer of any use 
 to the king, he was resolved to abandon it, provided that Washington 
 would not oppose his departure. He pointed to the combustible 
 materials he had caused to be prepared to set fire, in an instant, to 
 the city, if the provincials should molest him in any shape. He 
 
296 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 invited them to reflect upon all the dangers which might result, for 
 them and for their habitations, from a battle fought within the walls ; 
 and he assured them that his personal intention was to withdraw 
 peaceably, if the Americans were disposed, on their part, to act in the 
 same manner. He exhorted them, therefore, to repair to the presence 
 of Washington, and to inform him of what they had now heard. 
 
 The selectmen waited upon the American general, and made 
 him an affecting representation of the situation of the city. It 
 appears, from what followed, that he consented to the conditions 
 demanded ; but the articles of the truce were not written. It has 
 been pretended that one of them was that the besieged should leave 
 their munitions of war ; this, however, cannot be affirmed with 
 assurance. The munitions were, indeed, left ; but it is not known 
 whether it was by convention, or from necessity. The Americans 
 remained quiet spectators of the retreat of the English. But the city 
 presented a melancholy spectacle ; notwithstanding the orders of 
 general Howe, all was havoc and confusion. Fifteen hundred loyal- 
 ists, with their families, and their most valuable effects, hastened, 
 with infinite dejection of mind, to abandon a residence which had 
 been so dear to them, and where they had so long enjoyed felicity. 
 The fathers carrying burthens, the mothers their children, ran weep- 
 ing towards the ships ; the last salutations, the farewell embraces of 
 those who departed, and of those who remained, the sick, the 
 wounded, the aged, the infants, would have moved with compassion 
 the witnesses of their distress, if the care of their own safety had 
 not absorbed the attention of all. 
 
 The carts and beasts of burthen were become the occasion of sharp 
 disputes between the inhabitants who had retained them, and the 
 soldiers who wished to employ them. The disorder was also increased 
 by the animosity that prevailed between the soldiers of the garrison 
 and those of the fleet ; they reproached each other, mutually, as the 
 authors of their common misfortune. With one accord, however, 
 they complained of the coldness and ingratitude of their country, 
 which seemed to have abandoned, or rather to have forgotten them 
 upon these distant shores, a' prey to so much misery, and to so many 
 dangers. For since the month of October, general Howe had not 
 received, from England, any order or intelligence whatever, which 
 testified that the government still existed, and had not lost sight of the 
 army of Boston. 
 
 Meanwhile, a desperate band of soldiers and sailors took advantage 
 of the confusion to force doors, and pillage the houses and shops. 
 They destroyed what they could not carry away. The entire city 
 was devoted to devastation, and it was feared every moment that the 
 flames would break out to consummate its destruction. 
 
 The fifteenth of March general Howe issued a proclamation, for- 
 bidding every inhabitant to go out of his house before eleven o'clock 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 297 
 
 in the morning, in order not to disturb the embarkation of the troops, 
 which was to have taken place on this day. But an east wind pre- 
 vented their departure ; and to pass the time they returned to 
 pillaging. In the meanwhile, the Americans had constructed a 
 redoubt upon the point of Nook's Hill, in the peninsula of Dorchester, 
 and having furnished it with artillery, they entirely commanded the 
 isthmus of Boston, and all the southern part of the town. It was 
 even to be feared that they would occupy Noddle's Island, and esta- 
 blish batteries which, sweeping the surface of the water across the 
 harbor, would have entirely interdicted the passage to the ships, and 
 reduced the garrison to the necessity of yielding at discretion. All 
 delay became dangerous ; consequently the British troops and the 
 loyalists began to embark the seventeenth of March, at four in the 
 morning ; at ten, all were on board. The vessels were overla.den 
 with men and baggage ; provisions were scanty, confusion was every 
 where. The rear guard was scarcely out of the city when Wash- 
 ington entered it on the other side, with colors displayed, drums 
 beating, and all the forms of victory and triumph. He was received 
 by the inhabitants with every demonstration of gratitude and respect 
 due to a deliverer. Their joy broke forth with the more vivacity, as 
 their sufferings had been long and cruel. For more than sixteen 
 months they had endured hunger, thirst, cold, and the outrages of an 
 insolent soldiery who deemed them rebels. The most necessary 
 articles of food were risen to exorbitant prices. 
 
 Horse flesh was not refused by those who could procure it.* For 
 want of fuel, the pews and benches of churches were taken for this 
 purpose; the counters and partitions of warehouses were applied 
 to the same use ; and even houses, not inhabited, were demolished 
 for the sake of the wood. The English left a great quantity of 
 artillery and munitions. Two hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, 
 of different caliber, were found in Boston, in Castle Island, and in 
 the iritrenchments of Bunker's Hill, and the Neck. The English 
 had attempted, but with little success, in their haste, to destroy or to 
 spike the.se last pieces ; others had been thrown into the sea, but they 
 were recovered. There were found, besides, four mortars, a consi- 
 derable quantity of coal, of wheat, and of other grains, and one 
 hundred and fifty horses. 
 
 Thus, after a siege as long as tiresome, the capital of the province 
 of Massachusetts fell again into the power of the Americans. The 
 joy of this happy event was felt, with enthusiasm, by all the confe- 
 deration. It acquired an especial importance by the impulse it could 
 
 * Provisions were become so scarce at Boston, that a pound of fresh fish cost twelve 
 pence sterling, a goose eight shillings and four pence, a turkey twelve shillings and 
 sixpence, a duck four shillings and two pence, hams two shillings and a penny per 
 pound. Vegetables were altogether wanting. A sheep cost thirty-five shillings sterling, 
 apples thirty-three shillings and four pence per barrel. Fire wood fortv-one shillings 
 and eight pence the cord ; and finally, it was not to be procured at any price. 
 
 VOL. i. 38 
 
298 TH-E AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 not fail to impart to the public spirit, and even by the influence it 
 was likely to have upon future operations. We have here a new 
 occasion to remark, with surprise, the blindness and presumption of 
 the British ministry, who, instead of taking all the necessary measures 
 to secure success, from the commencement of the war, seemed, of 
 preference, to adopt all those that were calculated to injure its cause. 
 Whether from having listened to English pride, or from having trusted 
 to unfaithful reports, or finally, from having neglected the examples 
 of history, the ministers had persuaded themselves that the provin- 
 cials would shrink at the aspect of regular troops, and that their ardor 
 would be converted immediately into a general terror. 
 
 They omitted to reflect that the very nature of things had excited, 
 and already, for a length of time, had nourished the American 
 revolution. 
 
 The colonists were become rich and powerful, and their original 
 enthusiasm was far from being chilled. Misled by its prepossessions, 
 the government knew not how to employ its forces ; it refused to 
 send succours when it was yet time, and hastened to lavish them 
 when it was now too late. 
 
 The Americans, come into possession of Boston, immediately con- 
 fiscated the property, moveable and irnmoveable, of the emigrants 
 who had accompanied general Howe to Halifax. The sale was made 
 at auction, and the produce applied to the exigencies of the public. 
 The loyalists who had remained, were prosecuted and declared 
 enemies and traitors to the country ; their possessions were in like 
 manner confiscated and sold. The first care of the Bostonians was 
 directed to the necessity of fortifying their city, to preserve it, in 
 future, from the calamities they had recently experienced. The 
 works were commenced, without delay, and urged with extreme dili- 
 gence ; all the citizens, in turn, contributed their labor. A French 
 engineer, some Americans and four Prussians, had the. direction of 
 the whole. It was not, however, expected to render Boston a place 
 of strength, capable of sustaining a regular siege ; it sufficed to place 
 it in a situation to resist a sudden attack. 
 
 Certain movements of the provincials, and especially the care they 
 had taken to occupy some of the little islands situated in the bay of 
 Boston, authorised the belief, that it was their intention to attack Fort 
 William, erected upon Castle Island. General Howe, perceiving 
 that the possession of this fort would enable them to defend the 
 approaches of the city against the English ships, thought it expedient 
 to dismantle and burn it previous to his departure. He was unable, 
 however, to carry away its artillery, which he contented himself with 
 spiking very precipitately. 
 
 Contrary winds, succeeded by a dea<j calm, prevented the English 
 fleet, during more than a week, from gelling out to sea. But at 
 length it succeeded ; and contrary to all expectation, considering the 
 season, its passage to the port of Halifax was fortunate and rapid. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 299 
 
 Admiral Shuldam had left in the waters of Boston, a squadron, 
 under the command of commodore Bankes, to protect the navigation 
 of the vessels of the king, which, in ignorance of ihe evacuation of 
 the city, might continue their voyage towards it. This precaution 
 had not all the effect that was desired ; the bay being extensive, the 
 cruisers lay in concealment behind the numerous little islands with 
 which it is interspersed, and sprung suddenly upon the ships that 
 presented themselves without mistrust. Among others, captain Manly 
 took a prize laden with an immense cargo of provisions. 
 
 Washington, ignorant what were the plans of general Howe, and 
 what direction the British fleet had taken, was not without disquietude 
 for the city of New York. He wrote, in consequence, to brigadier- 
 general lord Sterling, who commanded there, advising him to stand 
 prepared, and that he had sent him a reenlbrcement of live battalions 
 and several companies of riflemen. But the royal troops were very 
 far from being in a condition to undertake any thing against that city ; 
 they esteemed themselves very fortunate in arriving sound and safe 
 at Halifax. Before proceeding to further operations, general Howe 
 chose to refresh his troops, and wait for the reenforcements that were 
 expected from England. 
 
 The affairs of Congress assumed an aspect no less prosperous in 
 North Carolina than in Massachusetts ; in which, however, very 
 serious commotions had begun to manifest themselves. 
 
 Governor Martin, although he had taken refuge on board the vessels 
 of the king, did not, however, remain idle ; and he busied himself 
 incessantly in devising new machinations to retrieve the royal cause 
 in his province. He flattered himself with the greater hopes of suc- 
 cess, as he knew that admiral Peter Parker, and lord Cornwnliis 
 were departed from the ports of England for an expedition against 
 the Carolinas. He was also informed that general Clinton, with some 
 companies, was on his way to join him at Cape Fear, situated upon 
 the river of the same name, and not far from Wilmington. At the 
 head of these united forces, increased by the Scotch highlanders and 
 the regulators, both formidable to the disaffected from their expe- 
 rience in the use of arms, and their ardent zeal for England, he had 
 no doubt, whatever, but that he could create a revolt in the province, 
 and reduce it anew under the authority of the king. After having 
 concerted with all his partisans, he erected the royal standard, sum- 
 moning all the inhabitants to rally round it in defence of country and 
 lawful authority against rebels. To render more efficacious the 
 succours of the highlanders and of the regulators, as well as of all 
 the other loyalists, he named colonel Macdonald, an officer warmly 
 devoted to the royal cause, captain-general of all the levies, that he 
 might organise them into regular corps. 
 
 This plan succeeded according to his hopes. The concourse at 
 Cross Creek swelled every day ; the patriots were threatened with 
 
300 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 an attack in this part unless a prompt remedy was applied. The 
 provincial assembly opened their eyes upon the danger, and de- 
 spatched, with all speed, against this head of loyalists, all the militia 
 that were in preparation ; and, at the same time, directed that others 
 should be assembled from all parts of the province. 
 
 The two parties that divided Carolina thus found themselves, 
 marshalled the one against the other, animated with an equal fury. 
 
 The patriots were commanded by general Moore ; he went to 
 lake post, with a few pieces of cannon, in front of the loyalists, at a 
 place called Rock-Fish Bridge, where, having broken the bridge, 
 he intrenched himself. Macdonald summoned him to come and put 
 himself under the royal standard, or to expect to be treated as an 
 enemy. Moore answered him that he had himself to take an oath of 
 fidelity to Congress, and to lay down arms, and that, in so doing, he 
 should be received as a friend. During these negotiations, which 
 Moore had the address to draw into length, his forces so increased 
 that he soon acquired a decided superiority over his adversary. 
 Macdonald, at length, perceived the danger of his situation; and 
 though he was already surrounded on every side by the provincials, 
 he disengaged himself with equal ability and courage. Marching 
 rapidly, and without interruption, interposing continually between 
 himself and his pursuers, rivers, forests, and. difficult defiles, he mea- 
 sured a space of eighty miles, in defiance of the vigilance of the 
 enemy, eager to cut off his retreat, and arrived at Moore's Creek, 
 sixteen miles from Wilmington. 
 
 There he hoped to be joined by governor Martin and general 
 Clinton, who were already arrived at Cape Fear. But the provincials, 
 who had never 'ceased to follow him, not only prevented this junction. 
 but reduced him to the necessity of giving battle. He displayed in 
 it an extreme bravery ; but captain Macleod, and many other of his 
 officers having been killed, his troops were seized with a panic and 
 fled, leaving their general in the midst of his enemies. Macdonald 
 was made prisoner, with many other loyalists. Their enemies 
 derived an immense advantage from this victory ; for if Macdonald 
 had been victor, or if he could only have effected his junction with 
 governor Martin and general Clinton, they might then have waited 
 at Cape Fear for the reenforcements that were coming from Ireland ; 
 and the affairs of the Congress would have been very near desperate 
 in the southern provinces. The Carolinians learned, besides, to know 
 their own strength, and refuted the opinion which had generally pre- 
 vailed of the weakness of North Carolina. They had combated, with 
 success, the regulators and the Scotch, who had appeared to them 
 at first so formidable; and in the space of ten days they had assem- 
 bled ten thousand men, full of courage and resolution. 
 
 The precipitation of the loyalists was the cause of their ruin ; if 
 they toad temporised until the arrival of succours from Europe, and 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 301 
 
 then only raised the standard of the king, they might, without doubt, 
 have struck a decisive blow, and thus have caused the balance to 
 incline in their favor in the southern provinces. 
 
 We have left lord Dunmore cruising with his vessels upon the 
 coast of Virginia ; he continued still for a long time upon this station. 
 But all the places of landing being diligently guarded by the militia, 
 far from being able to make any impression, he could not even pro- 
 cure the sustenance necessary for the multitude accumulated on 
 board his squadron. Consequently the excessive heats, the corrup- 
 tion of the water and of the provisions, and the crowd of men in 
 the ships, generated offensive and deleterious miasmata. A pestilen- 
 tial malady carried off, in mass, the whites and the blacks ; but it was 
 especially mortal among the latter. In this deplorable state the % 
 squadron of lord Dunmore wandered from island to island, from shore 
 to shore. He found, upon all points, the inhabitants armed to repulse 
 him, and he wanted forces to open himself a passage through them. 
 To crown the measure of misfortune, the winds drove a part of the 
 ships upon the coasts of Virginia, where the wretched fugitives, 
 become the prisoners of their own fellow-citizens, did but exchange * 
 this pestiferous abode for dark and horrible dungeons. At length, to 
 escape a certain death upon these shores, lord Dunmore resolved to 
 burn the ships of least value. The miserable wrecks of soldiers and 
 of Virginians, buffeted by tempests, devoured by famine, by thirst, 
 and by diseases, went to seek refuge in the Floridas, the Bermudas, 
 and the West Indies. Thus delivered of its enemy, the province 
 recovered tranquillity. Such was the catastrophe that terminated 
 the expedition of lord Dunmore against Virginia, and the result of 
 his plan of revolt of negroes against their masters. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Congress had not remitted their preparations of 
 maritime war ; they felt the necessity of protecting their own coasts 
 from the insults of the enemy's cruisers, as also the extreme utility of 
 intercepting the storeships of the English armies. There was no 
 deficiency either of materials suitable for the construction of vessels, 
 or of excellent mariners; the interruption of commerce and of the 
 fisheries having left a very great number of them without employment. 
 Accordingly the work was pushed with such ardor in the navy yards 
 of Maryland, of Philadelphia, and of Rhode Island, that upon the 
 commencement of the year were seen floating in the waters of the 
 Delaware five frigates, or corvettes, and thirteen gun sloops,* com- 
 pletely equipped and armed. 
 
 * The frigates were the Alfred and the Columbus, of thirty-two guns ; the corvettes, 
 the Andreas Doria of sixteen, the Sebastian Cabot of fourteen, and the Providence of 
 twelve. The thirteen gun-boats bore the names following ; the Washington, the Dickin- 
 son, the Chatham, the Camden, the Burke, the Effingltam, the Bull-dog, the Franklin, 
 the Congress, the Experiment, the Hancock, the Adams, and the Warren. 
 
302 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 The Congress had ordained, besides, that thirteen frigates, of 
 thirty-six guns each, should he constructed with all possible expedi- 
 tion. Then in order to form the seamen to the evolutions of mari- 
 time war, and, at the same time to procure themselves arms arid 
 munitions, and especially powder, they ordered Ezechiel Hopkins, 
 captain-general of the fleet, to make sail for the Bahama Islands. He 
 put to sea about the middle of February, and after a prosperous voy- 
 age arrived, in the beginning of March, at Abaco, one of these islands. 
 
 Being informed that the English had amassed a considerable quan- 
 tity of munitions in that of Providence, he made a sudden descent 
 there, and seized them. The Americans found many pieces of 
 cannon, with bombs, balls, and one hundred and fifty casks of 
 powder, the capital object of the expedition. In their return they 
 combated honorably a British frigate, and captured a brig. The 
 squadron of Congress, with its prizes, entered the port of New Lon- 
 don. Frequent engagements also took place in the bay of Boston, 
 he! ween the ships of commodore Bankes, and those of Massachu- 
 setts. One of the most remarkable was that in which captain Mug- 
 ford captured a transport, laden with a great quantity of arms and 
 military stores. 
 
 The navy of Congress not only distinguished itself upon the coasts, 
 but ^lso, what was scarcely to have been hoped, in the open sea. Its 
 success perceptibly increased the confidence and hope of the Ameri- 
 cans; they accustomed themselves, by little and little, to act as a 
 nation enjoying its entire independence. 
 
 The desire to see it universally acknowledged was excited in 
 some, and fortified with others, in proportion to the prosperous result 
 of their efforts. They were not crowned with the same happy success 
 in Canada. Arnold, who had continued with his feeble corps the 
 siege of Quebec, found himself oppressed by a multitude of obstacles. 
 The reenforcements the Congress had promised him, arrived but 
 slowly and by parties, either because the severity of the season ren- 
 dered the roads nearly impracticable, or, because the ill success 
 of the assault of Quebec had considerably damped the ardor with 
 which the novelty and brilliant commencement of this expedition had 
 inspired the Americans. 
 
 It appeared that Congress itself, either distracted by too many 
 cares, or wanting the necessary means, had neglected to take proper 
 measures for conducting the Canadian war to the object desired. In 
 vain had the greater part of the garrison of Montreal been marched 
 to Quebec, the soldiers under Arnold still scarcely amounted to a 
 thousand effective men. 
 
 The Canadians, who at first had welcomed the Americans with 
 cordiality, and had supplied them with all that was in their power, 
 finding themselves afterwards exposed to various excesses on the part 
 of this* undisciplined troop, had passed from benevolence to aversion. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 303 
 
 It must be admitted, they had too much reason for it. The Ameri- 
 cans had not only omitted to conciliate the countenance of tho 
 Catholic priests, which irritated their self-love, but they had even 
 overwhelmed them with contempt, which excited among them detest- 
 ation and a thirst of vengeance. The insinuations of governor 
 Carleton and of all his partisans succeeded, therefore, without diffi- 
 culty, in persuading them to refuse the sacraments to all those who 
 had declared for the Americans. This refusal produced an impres- 
 sion so serious upon the minds of the Canadians, that the provincials, 
 perceiving how prejudicial it might prove to their interests, de- 
 spatched a Catholic priest from Maryland, in order to dispense to the 
 Canadians all the spiritual succours of which they were deprived. But 
 this remedy was employed too late. Affairs already assumed the 
 most discouraging aspect. 
 
 A- French gentleman of intrepidity, named Beaujeu, had assem- 
 bled a corps of nobles and other inhabitants with whom he had 
 influence, at the head of whom he had taken the field. The Ame- 
 ricans had engaged him with advantage ; but they had no means to 
 repair the injury their cause had suffered, as well from its known 
 weakness, as from the outrages committed against the inhabitants of 
 the country. To increase their distress, the season approached in 
 which the reenforcements, already known to be departed from 
 England, were about to arrive. The river St. .Lawrence, no longer 
 obstructed with ice, opened them a free passage up to the city of 
 Quebec. It would have been too hazardous to await them witli 
 forces so disproportionate. 
 
 In this critical position, Arnold, who had recently been promoted 
 to the rank of brigadier-general, prepared with a courage as great 
 as his resources were feeble to reduce the besieged city. Its pos- 
 session would have rendered the enmity of the Canadians in a great 
 measure impotent, and the English troops would thus have lost their 
 communication with the upper parts of the province. 
 
 Arnold was not entirely without hope of success. Governor 
 Carleton experienced a dearth, rendered more and more afflicting 
 by the vigilance and success with which the provincials intercepted 
 all his convoys of provisions ; nor did they cease, besides, to harass 
 and fatigue the garrison by false attacks and multiplied stratagems, 
 hoping from its weakness to find sooner or later some way to sur- 
 prise the place. 
 
 They had approached the walls to open the trench, and had 
 erected batteries upon the banks of the river, in order to cannonade 
 the English vessels. They fired with red hot balls, and launched 
 different sorts of fireworks into the city ; but general Carleton 
 watched attentively and disconcerted all their manoeuvres. The 
 obstacles that Arnold encountered, were carried to the utmost by the 
 smallpox, a malady so formidable in these climates. The reenforce- 
 
304 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 ments he expected, arrived greatly reduced by this scourge ; the 
 soldiers fled from terror ; or were infected by the contagion ; the 
 ranks thinned continually. It was at this epoch that general Thomas 
 took the command. He wished before raising the siege, to make a 
 last effort, by setting fire to the ships of the governor, and seizing the 
 occasion of the disorder to attempt the assault. The river being 
 already free from ice before Quebec, on the night of the third of 
 May, the Americans sent down a fire-ship ; their ladders were pre- 
 pared for the assault. The English having taken the alarm, began 
 to fire ; the men who managed the fire-ship, finding themselves dis- 
 covered, set her on fire. 
 
 In this posture of affairs, having no longer any thing to expect, 
 either from a regular siege or a scalade, seeing the troops diminish 
 daily, as well in number as in courage, having no more provisions 
 left than for three days, and fearing, at every moment, the arrival of 
 the English reenforcements, the American general resolved to aban- 
 don the expedition entirely, and to retire towards Montreal. The 
 very morning of the day appointed for raising the siege, the Isis ship 
 of fifty-four guns, arrived in sight of Quebec, with the frigate Sur- 
 prise, and another vessel of less force. 
 
 With equal industry and peril, they had ventured to navigate the 
 river from its mouth, in the midst of enormous masses of floating ice. 
 They had on board several companies of veteran soldiers, who were 
 immediately put on shore. 
 
 The ships now having the command of the river, intercepted all 
 communication between the different parts of the American camp, 
 and even captured a great number of vessels belonging to the pro- 
 vincials. This unexpected event threw them into the greatest con- 
 sternation. They precipitately abandoned their quarters, leaving 
 behind them their baggage, their artillery, their munitions, and what- 
 ever might have retarded their march ; the English seized them 
 immediately. 
 
 The sick, attacked for the most part with the smallpox, escaped 
 as they could ; the Canadians were moved with compassion, and 
 concealed them here and there. Meanwhile, the governor had 
 sallied out at the head of the garrison to pursue the Americans. 
 He made no few of them prisoners ; but they gave themselves no 
 pause until they had inarched full forty-five miles up the St. Law- 
 rence ; then, having halted a few hours, they retired to the mouths 
 of the Sorel, where they were joined by four regiments. 
 
 They lost, in this place, general Thomas, who died of the small- 
 pox ; his valor and his integrity rendered him the object of universal 
 consideration. General Sullivan succeeded in command. General 
 Carleton, after such prosperous success, reflecting upon his extreme 
 weakness, ceased to pursue the enemy, and returned to Quebec, 
 intending to wait for reenforcements, and then take the field with 
 

 BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 305 
 
 forces sufficient to maintain himself there. But he first gave the 
 most honorable proofs of that humanity which distinguished him. 
 The Americans, whether wounded or sick, were concealed in the 
 forests or in the habitations of the Canadians, where they had to 
 suffer all evils united. The governor issued a proclamation, by 
 which he ordained that men, appointed for this purpose, should go 
 in search of these unfortunate men, to cure them at the public ex- 
 pense, and provide for all their wants. Finally, that they might not 
 fear to discover themselves, he pledged his faith, that so soon as 
 they should have recovered health, he would leave them at their 
 full and entire liberty to return, without conditions, to their own 
 habitations. 
 
 A few days subsequent to the deliverance of Quebec, that is, 
 about the last of the month of May, several regiments of English and 
 Brunswickers arrived in Canada. These reenforcements carried 
 the British army in that province to upwards of thirteen thousand 
 men, commanded by experienced generals, among whom Carleton 
 was the first in reputation, as in rank. Under his orders were Bur- 
 goyne, Phillipps, and Reidesel, a German general of considerable 
 name. 
 
 Wishing to profit by the rout of the Americans, they were all of 
 opinion that the war should be carried into the upper parts of Cana- 
 da, and even further, if fortune should prove propitious. The 
 English general accordingly assembled all his forces a f . Trois Ri- 
 vieres, a town situated upon the left bank of the St. Lawrence, at a 
 distance nearly equal from Montreal and from Quebec. 
 
 The constancy of the Americans had been put to a severe test 
 under the walls of this capital ; they had also to sustain a sanguinary 
 conflict in the environs of Montreal, against a corps of English, of 
 Canadians, and of savages. They occupied a small fort situated in 
 a place called les Cedres, a few miles above Montreal. 
 
 The royalists appeared before it, and captains Beadle and Butter- 
 field, more careful of their safety than of their honor, and the inter- 
 ests of their country, immediately surrendered upon terms. Some 
 companies had commenced their march from Montreal to bring 
 them succour, but they fell in with a party of the enemy who dis- 
 persed them, after an obstinate and bloody resistance. The Indians 
 exercised the most shocking cruelties upon the prisoners. Arnold, 
 who was then at Montreal, unable to endure that the American arms 
 should receive a check from those of the Canadians and savages, 
 immediately took the field in order to avenge this affront. But 
 captain Foster gave him to understand, that if he attacked him and 
 refused to consent to an exchange of prisoners, all the Americans 
 that were found in his power would be massacred immediately by 
 the Indians. Arnold was constrained, though with extreme repug- 
 nance, to yield to necessity. 
 
 VOL. j. 39 
 
306 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 Neither these adverse events, nor the aspect of a position so cri- 
 tical, could shake the courage? of the Americans. It was at this very 
 moment that they attempted an operation full of danger and of no 
 little difficulty. 
 
 The English troops and those of Brunswick were much dispersed, 
 and very distant from each other. A strong corps was quartered at 
 Trois Rivieres, under the command of general Frazer ; another, at 
 the orders of general Nesbit, continued on board the transports ; a'nd 
 the most considerable corps, forming several divisions, under gene- 
 rals Carleton, Burgoyne, Phillipps, and Reidesel, was distributed 
 upon the banks, and upon the river itself, in its lower part, on the side 
 of Quebec. Some other batteaus, full of soldiers, had already passed 
 up the rivpr above Trois Rivieres, towards the Sorel. The Ameri- 
 cans conceived the project of surprising and cutting off the English 
 division that occupied Trois Rivieres, before the others could come 
 to its assistance. General Sullivan accordingly directed general 
 Thompson to embark with two thousand men, upon fifty batteaus 
 that were kept in preparation for the use of the army, and to descend 
 the river. Thompson coasted along the right bank of the lake St. 
 Pierre, formed by the vast breadth of the river in this place, and 
 arrived without being perceived at Nicolete, a town situated upon the 
 same bank of the St. Lawrence, a little above Trois Rivieres. His 
 design was to cross the river during the night, to land nine miles 
 above Trois Rivieres, and to fall upon the enemy before day. But 
 it had already appeared, before the Americans, retarded by many 
 unexpected obstacles, could gain the left bank. They marched, 
 however, with incredible rapidity towards the destined point; but 
 treacherous guides misled them. On having discovered it, they 
 resumed the right road, which was excessively difficult. 
 
 Meanwhile, the sun was risen, and they were perceived by the 
 troops that were on board the vessels. The alarm was soon given, 
 and general Frazer was promptly apprized of the danger. The 
 Americans, seeing themselves discovered, redoubled their celerity. 
 They arrived at nine in the morning in sight of Trois Rivieres ; but 
 they found the English drawn up in order of battle, and prepared to 
 receive them. The action was engaged ; the Americans, after a 
 feeble struggle, were thrown into disorder ; and fled. This notwith- 
 standing, they were rallied ; but the day was already lost without 
 remedy. Nesbit landing all at once with his division, took the Ame- 
 ricans in rear. From this moment their rout was complete. The 
 soldiers no longer keeping any order, sought their safety in the woods. 
 
 Pressed in front by Frazer, who overwhelmed them with a fire oi 
 grape-shot, and intercepted by Nesbit, who prevented their return to 
 the batteaus, they suffered horribly in the passage of a marsh. Hav- 
 ing at length, by incredible efforts, succeeded in crossing it, they 
 plunged into thick forests, where the English ceased to pursue them. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 307 
 
 When they were able to rejoin their boats, they hastened to return 
 tqahe months of the Sorel. *They left many prisoners in the power 
 oPthe English, among whom general Thompson himself, and colonel 
 It-win, with many other officers of distinction ; they had few killed. 
 The loss of the royal troops was still less. Such was the issue of the 
 expedition of Trois Rivieres, conceived with ability, undertaken with 
 intrepidity, but finally directed with imprudence. 
 
 .Tiie success depending entirely on a surprise by night, it is certain, 
 that when the Americans perceived they could only attack in open 
 day, and still more, that their enemy was on his guard, the part of 
 wisdom would have been to halt, and to recover their first position. 
 Discouraged by this check, and by the consideration of their weak- 
 ness, the provincials resolved to retreat. The English, on the con- 
 trary, uninvited by victory, determined to use it with all promptitude. 
 Having combined all their divisions at Trois Rivieres, they proceeded 
 four days after the action, towards the Sorel, part by the way of the 
 land, and part upon the river. Thoy arrived at the confluence, a few 
 hours after the Americans had destroyed their batteries, and carried 
 away the artillery and munitions. 
 
 The English generals then formed two columns, that of the right 
 was to ascend the St. Lawrence and take possession of Montreal, 
 pass the river to Longueville, traverse the country which is com- 
 prehended between the St. Lawrence and the Sorel, and reunite with 
 the column of the left under fort St. John. The column of the left 
 was to ascend the river up to this fort, which it was intended to re- 
 duce by assault, or by siege, if it was necessary. It was presumable 
 that the Americans would endeavor to make a stand there. The 
 first column soon arrived at Montreal and entered it without obstacle; 
 Arnold had evacuated it, as well as the whole island, the night pre- 
 ceding. Meanwhile, Burgoyne advanced by the Sorel with extreme 
 caution; the country being suspicious, he feared some ambuscade. 
 The Americans retired with an eq'ial circumspection. They wished 
 to avoid an affair of the rear guard, and to save their baggage, which, 
 conveyed in batteaus, followed upon the river the progress of the 
 army. 
 
 Arnold at length gained fort St. John, without having been attack- 
 ed, and there effected his junction with Sullivan., But this general, 
 knowing the disadvantage of his position, determined not to risk a 
 siege ; he set fire to the magazine and barracks, dismantled the forti- 
 fications, and withdrew under the cannon of Crown Point. Bur- 
 goyne could not follow him, all the batteaus having been burnt. 
 
 Although this retreat has not been absolutely exempt from confusion, 
 it was not, however, with the exception of the check of Trois Rivieres 
 and that of Cedres, attended with any considerable loss either of men, 
 of arms, of munitions, or of baggage. 
 
308 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 In the midst of so many dangers, general Sullivan neglected no 
 part of his duty ; the Congress addressed him public thanks. The 
 English found themselves compelled to suspend their pursuit. 
 
 By falling back upon Crown Point, the Americans had rfffferposed 
 between themselves and the enemy, all the length of Lake Cham- 
 plain, of which a large number of armed vessels rendered them 
 masters. The English could not hope to proceed further south, by 
 the way of the lake, unless they armed a fleet superior to that of the 
 provincials. It was necessary, besides, that they should construct a 
 great number of batteaus, to serve for the transport of the troops and 
 munitions of a numerous army. 
 
 There had arrived from England, it is true, six large armed vessels 
 destined for this use ; but the falls of the river Sorel, near Fort 
 Chambly, rendered their entrance into the lake, if not impossible, 
 certainly very difficult. The construction of flat boats presented, 
 also, numerous difficulties, and required a considerable time. Upon 
 these considerations the English renounced all further pursuit, and 
 the Americans had leisure to prepare themselves to resist the future 
 attacks of a powerful and warlike enemy. 
 
 The Americans were thus arrested by an insurmountable obstacle in 
 this expedition of Canada, from which they had promised themselves 
 so great advantages. But it should be considered, that either through 
 inexperience, or from the difficulties which are wont to accompany 
 new and tumultuary governments, this enterprise was not commenced 
 until the season was already too far advanced in these cold regions ; 
 it was not carried on with sufficient forces ; and the excesses of 
 military license deprived the colonies of the ancient friendship of the 
 Canadians, which was not only necessary, but even indispensable to 
 the success of their cause. It is certain, however, that if this enter- 
 prise had been conducted with a prudence and vigor equal to the 
 boldness which had dictated its plan, or even if destiny had not cut 
 off the days of Montgomery at a moment so critical, the Americans 
 would have gained the object of all their efforts. But fortune does 
 not always favor the brave, nor do the brave always know how to use 
 fortune well. 
 
 This expedition of Canada, moreover, led the government or Bri- 
 tish generals into a.signal error with respect to the conduct of all this 
 war ; to this cause, especially, must be attributed the inutility of all 
 their efforts against America. 
 
 In effect, the invasion of Canada by the Americans, was perhaps 
 the first motive which determined the English ministry to assemble so 
 considerable forces in this province, and to divide their army into two 
 distinct parts, one of which was to descend from Canada, by the 
 lakes, into the interior of the colonies, and the other to attack them 
 in front upon the coasts. 
 
 It is not improbable, that if instead of these two armies, the Eng- 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 300 
 
 lish had formed but one only, the war would have had a direction, 
 and perhaps a conclusion, widely different. 
 
 The Congress decreed, in honor of a man beloved and revered by 
 the Americans, that there should be procured from Paris a monu- 
 ment, with an appropriate inscription, to transmit to posterity the 
 memory of the virtues and heroic qualities of Richard Montgomery. 
 
 Thus, by the example of those of the dead, they encouraged the 
 virtues of the living. The authors of revolutions too often, of pre- 
 ference, employ bad citizens, either, in consequence of their audacity 
 in recommending themselves, or because, bavins; no other principle 
 but their personal interest, they are more pliant and more ductile in 
 the hands of those who govern. 
 
 It should be observed, on the contrary, to the glory of the Ameri- 
 can Congress, that they sought out and distinguished men of worth. 
 We dare not affirm that the number of such, in the times of the revo- 
 lution, was more considerable in America than in any other country. 
 But it does appear, that if there prevailed among the Americans of 
 this epoch, the vices produced by an immoderate love of gain, those 
 were scarcely remarked which have their origin in luxury, depravity 
 of manners, and the ambition of power. Religion had not yet lost 
 its authority over their minds, nor had it become fashionable with 
 them to offer incense at the altars of vice, or openly to rail at virtue. 
 It is remarkable that the English manifested no less enthusiasm than 
 the Americans for the memory of Montgomery. 
 
 Within the parliament itself, there were found orators whose elo- 
 quence adjudged him all the praises with which the historians of anti- 
 quity have commemorated the most illustrious men of their times. 
 Colonel Barre was particularly remarked for the noble pathos of the 
 regrets he consecrated to the death of his gallant enemy. Burke and 
 Fox endeavored to surpass this eulogium in their speeches ; Fox, 
 especially, who, as yet very young, already discovered the man he was 
 afterwards to be. Lord North reprehended them sharply, exclaim- 
 ing, that it was indecent to lavish so many praises upon a rebel. He 
 admitted that Montgomery was brave, able, humane, and generous; 
 but still he was only a brave, able, humane, and generous rebel; he 
 cited this verse of Addison in Cato, ' Curse on his virtues, they've 
 undone his country.' Fox answered him immediately, with warmth, 
 that 'the term "rebel," applied to that excellent person, was no cer- 
 tain mark of disgrace, and therefore he was the less earnest to clear 
 him of the imputation ; for that all the great asserters of liberty, the 
 saviors of their country, the benefactors of mankind, in all ages, had 
 been called rebels ; that they even owed the constitution, which en- 
 abled them to sit in that house, to a rebellion.' He added this pas- 
 sage from the prince of Latin poets 
 
 Sunt hie etiam sua praemia laudi, 
 Sunt lachrymse rerum, et nientem mortalia tangunt. 
 
olO THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 But it is time to resume the thread of the history. The Ame- 
 ricans found a compensation for the disasters of Canada, in the 
 success they obtained under the walls of Charleston, in South Caro- 
 lina. The ministers had resolved to aim a vigorous blow at the 
 southern provinces, because they had persuaded themselves, and 
 not without reason, that the friends of England were more numerous 
 there than in those of the north. They had no doubt that they 
 would all show themselves so soon as the troops of the king should 
 appear in force upon the coasts, or should have become possessed 
 of some important post. They hoped with the succour of the loyal- 
 ists to reestablish the ancient order of things in these provinces, and 
 they calculated that thence they might afterwards attack in flank 
 those of the middle and north ; which, being pressed in the rear, on 
 the part of Canada, by a strong army, and in front on the part of 
 the sea, by forces no less formidable, would thus be deprived of all 
 power of resistance. The ministers already saw America returned 
 to its ancient submission. They determined to turn their arms at 
 first against North Carolina, as the weakest part, and to add to this 
 conquest that of South Carolina and of Virginia, according to the 
 success of operations. 
 
 For this reason the fleet, having on board the troops destined for 
 this expedition, had sailed from the ports of England and Ireland 
 before the others. General Clinton, who, at the head of another 
 considerable corps, was to come from New York to join the new 
 reenforcements, was already arrived at Cape Fear, not having been 
 able to execute his design of attacking Virginia. But, on the one 
 hand, the impatience of the loyalists of North Carolina had caused 
 the miscarriage of the expedition, and their own ruin ; on the other, 
 contrary winds and storms had so retarded beyond all expectation 
 the passage of the fleet which, under the command of admiral Peter 
 Parker, was bound for Cape Fear, that it could not reach that point 
 until long after the calculated term, nor until the loyalists were 
 already put down, and the inhabitants of the two Carolinas were not 
 only apprised of the menaced attack, but had even already made all 
 their preparations for resistance. It is certain that if the loyalists of 
 North Carolina had delayed for some time longer tto declare them- 
 selves ; or if the sea had been more propitious to the English, the 
 affairs of Congress might have taken a disastrous direction in the 
 south. The squadron of admiral Parker arrived at Cape Fear 
 about the beginning of May, with many land troops, and with gene- 
 rals Cornwallis, Vaughan, and several others. Here they made 
 their junction with general Clinton, who, from seniority, took the 
 command in chief. 
 
 The obstinate resistance of the Virginians, and the disasters of 
 the partisans of England in North Carolina, precluded all hope of 
 success in these two provinces ; there remained therefore no other 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 311 
 
 advisable procedure but that of turning against South Carolina ; 
 which expedition offered also this advantage, that the reduction of 
 Charleston secured the conquest of the entire province. 
 
 Its inhabitants, struck with consternation at the loss of their capi- 
 tal, would never even think of attempting to defend an open country, 
 exposed to the inroads of an active and disciplined enemy. Nor 
 could the taking of Charleston be considered a difficult operation, 
 this city being situated upon the very coast. 
 
 The plan being decided, the English prepared themselves for the 
 execution. But the Carolinians had neglected nothing to secure 
 themselves the means of defending their province, and particularly 
 their capital. The chiefs of the people, as we have already related, 
 had taken particular care to fortify Sullivan's Island, situated on the 
 part of the sea, at the distance of six miles from the point of land 
 formed by the confluence of the two rivers, Ashley and Cooper, and 
 upon which the city of Charleston is built. This island so commands 
 the channel which leads to the port, that the vessels which would 
 enter it must pass under the cannon of fort Moultrie. It had recently 
 been armed with thirty-six pieces of heavy cannon, and twenty- 
 six of inferior caliber. The fort itself was constructed of a species 
 of wood of the country, which the inhabitants denominated Palmetto, 
 and is so spongy and soft, that the ball is deprived by it of its impe- 
 tus, and lodges within it without causing splinters. The militia of 
 all the province were called in haste to the defence of the city. In 
 the space of a few days the garrison amounted to six thousand men, 
 if not perfectly disciplined, at least full of ardor. 
 
 The regiment on pay, of South Carolina, was sent to guard fort 
 Johnson, situated in Jarnes Inland, three miles from Charleston, and 
 which commanded the whole breadth of the channel. 
 
 The second and third regiments occupied Sullivan's Island. Wil- 
 liam Mouitrie, who commanded the second regiment, was charged 
 with the defence of the fort, which afterwards, from his gallant 
 defence of it, was called by his name. The rest of the troops were 
 distributed in the most important posts ; the roads which led to the 
 sea were obstructed by abattis, the warehouses of the coast demo- 
 lished, and intrenchments erected upon the shore. 
 
 There was not an inhabitant who had not in hand either arms or 
 the spade, or the pickaxe. The blacks, who bad been called in 
 from the country, admirably seconded the whites in all the labors of 
 fortification. The chief command belonged to general Lee, who 
 possessed the entire confidence of the troops and of the people ; none 
 rivalled him in devotion to the common cause. The hatred he had 
 long borne towards the English government, the love of glory, and 
 the desire of answering the universal expectation, continually excited 
 his natural ardor. Rutledge, a man of great influence in the pro- 
 vince, also manifested the most active zeal in animating the inhabit- 
 
312 THE AMEKICAN WAH. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 ants to defend themselves. His example and his exhortations ob- 
 tained the most happy results. Every one was at his post, expecting 
 the enemy with intrepid confidence. Meanwhile, the British fleet 
 appeared, and cast anchor to the north of Sullivan's Island. 
 
 The ships of war were the Bristol and Experiment of fifty guns ; 
 four frigates, the Active, the Jlcteon, the Solebay, and the Syren of 
 twenty-eight ; the Sphynx of twenty, the Friendship of twenty-two, 
 two smaller vessels of eight, and the Thunder, a bomb-ketch. 
 
 It was very difficult, especially for the large ships, to pass the bar 
 which is found at the entrance of the channel of Charleston. 
 
 It was not without extreme fatigue that the English succeeded in 
 crossing it with the Bristol and Experiment, even after they had 
 lightened them of their artillery and a great part of their lading. 
 They struck, aad it was thought they would bilge immediately ; but 
 the skill of the officers and the efforts of the sailors at length pre- 
 served them. The intention of the English was to reduce fort 
 Moultrie, in order, afterwards, to attack the city without obstacle. 
 General Clinton issued a proclamation, which he sent into the city 
 by a flag ; he therein reminded the inhabitants of the subversion of 
 all laws, of the tyranny established in the hands of the Congress, the 
 committees, and other unconstitutional authorities ; he gave them a 
 last admonition, before proceeding to extremities ; he exhorted them 
 to avert from their heads, by a prompt return to obedience, the ven- 
 geance of a powerful and irritated nation. He offered pardon, at the 
 same time, to all those who should lay down arms and submit im- 
 mediately. 
 
 This summons produced no effect whatever. 
 
 The English generals had arranged their attack in the following 
 manner. The ships were to cannonade fort Moultrie in front, while 
 a corps of troops landed for this purpose in Long Island, to the east 
 of Sullivan's Island, should cross the narrow arm of the sea that 
 separates them, and which was believed fordable. This corps 
 would then have pressed the fort on the part of the land, which was 
 much less strongly fortified. This plan offered them so fair a pro- 
 spect of success, that general Lee himself, having doubts whether 
 the fort could be defended, recommended that it should be evacuat- 
 ed, and that all efforts should be concentrated for the defence of the 
 city. But the inhabitants, who dreaded bombs out of measure, re- 
 solved to attempt, by all means, the defence of the fort. 
 
 All the preparations being completed on the one part, and on the 
 other, on the morning of the twenty-eighth of June, the ketch Thun- 
 der, protected by another armed vessel, took post and began to 
 throw bombs into fort Moultrie, while the rest of the squadron 
 advanced. 
 
 About, eleven o'clock, the Bristol, the Experiment, the Active, and 
 the Solebay, having formed in line, opened a violent fire against the 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 313 
 
 fort. The Sphynx, the Acteon, and the Syren, went to take their 
 station to the west, between the point of Sullivan's Island and the 
 city, partly to be able to sweep the interior of the works, and partly 
 to intercept all communication between the island and the main land, 
 which would deprive the garrison of the means of retreat, prevent 
 them from receiving succours of men and of munitions, and prohibit 
 the Carolinians from annoying the besiegers by fire ships or other 
 engines of war. The unskilfulness of the pilots caused the miscar- 
 riage of these dispositions ; the three vessels struck upon a bank 
 named the Middle Grounds, two of them, by the exertions of the 
 mariners, were again set afloat, but not without having received consi- 
 derable damage. Whether on account of the hour already become 
 late, or in consequence of this damage, they were no longer in a 
 situation to execute the orders of the captains. As to the Acteon, 
 she was totally stranded, and, the next morning, burned. During 
 this time, the four first vessels had kept up a furious cannonade 
 against the fort, which was returned with equal vivacity. The 
 Thunder, after having discharged upwards of sixty bombs, found 
 herself so disabled, that she discontinued her fire ; but the others 
 maintained it; and if the attack was vigorous, the defence was not 
 feeble. The English themselves were constrained to admire the 
 intrepidity of the Americans in so hot an action. 
 
 The garrison of the fort, which consisted only in militia and a few 
 soldiers of the line, displayed an incredible coolness and gallantry, 
 in the service of their artillery, in the midst of the tempest of balls 
 which was hailed upon them by the enemy's squadron. The Ameri- 
 cans aimed with an extreme precision. The English ships suffered 
 excessively ; and their loss in men was not inconsiderable. The 
 Bristol, especially, being damaged in all her rigging, was for some 
 time so exposed to the fire of the batteries, that she narrowly escaped 
 being sunk. Captain Morris, who commanded the Acteon, had 
 already received several wounds, and the greater part of his men 
 were killed ; left almost alone upon the deck, he refused to be carried 
 below, until a ball took off one of his legs, and then was removed 
 without hope of life. The admiral himself, Peter Parker, received 
 a severe contusion. 
 
 Lord Campbell, who a little before was governor of the province, 
 was mortally wounded. 
 
 The loss of the garrison was very inconsiderable ; nevertheless 
 their fire slackened, and at length ceased altogether. Their ammuni- 
 tion was exhausted, and the English considered their victory as 
 already secure. But the Americans soon succoured the fort, and the 
 cannonade was renewed with the same fury as at first. It continued 
 till seven o'clock in the evening. 
 
 The English then perceiving the inutility of their attack, and the 
 deplorable state cf their vessels, and not seeing the corps make its 
 VOL. i. 40 
 
314 THE AMEBICAN WAR. BOOK VI, 
 
 appearance which was to have come up on the part of Long Island, 
 determined to abandon the enterprise. 
 
 Generals Clinton and Cornwallis would have crossed the arm of 
 the sea which separates the two neighboring islands, in order to attack 
 Fort Moultrie on the land side, as it had been concerted, but the water 
 was found too deep, and the ford impracticable ; this, at least, they 
 alleged. On the other hand, even though they should have succeed- 
 ed in surmounting these obstacles, it is probable they would have 
 found others more formidable still upon the shores of Sullivan's 
 Island. Colonel Thompson, at the head of three hundred grenadiers 
 of his regiment ; colonel Clark, with two hundred soldiers of North 
 Carolina ; colonel Horry, followed by two hundred militiamen of 
 South Carolina, and Racoon's company of riflemen, with some pieces 
 of artillery, had occupied the posts situated at the eastern extremity 
 of the island. It is, therefore, credible, that it was more the prepa- 
 rations of defence made by the Americans, than the difficulty of the 
 ford which prevented the English generals from attempting the pas- 
 sage. Can it be supposed that officers, so experienced, should have 
 continued nine whole days in Long Island without having caused the 
 depth of the waters to be sounded, and ascertaining long before the 
 time of the action, whether they were fordable or not ? 
 
 It appears equally difficult to comprehend how, after having disco- 
 vered either that the ford was impracticable, or the position of the 
 Americans impregnable, the English should have remained inactive 
 in Long Island, instead of endeavoring to land upon some other 
 part of Sullivan's Island by means of the boats they had assembled. 
 This circumstance presents several points which it is impossible to 
 explain. However it may be, the English retired during the night, 
 and the following morning their ships were already at the distance of 
 two miles from the island. A few days after, having reernbarked 
 their troops, they made sail for New York, where the army, increased 
 by all the ^enforcements it had received from England, expected 
 general Howe. 
 
 Such was the issue of the attack of Fort Moultrie by the English. 
 It placed the affairs of South Carolina, for the present, in a state of 
 security, The fort itself received little injury, either because the 
 balls of the enemy passed above it, or because the spongy wood, of 
 which it was constructed, diminished their effect. 
 
 This battle was remarkable on the side of the Americans for some 
 of those traits of obstinate courage which are the usual result of the 
 fermentation of minds in the midst of political revolutions. Among 
 others, it is recorded, that a sergeant of grenadiers, named Jasper, 
 on seeing the staff of the American standard cut by a ball, sprung 
 after it to the ground, and fastened it to the rammer of a cannon ; 
 then mounting upon the parapet, hoisted it anew in the midst of the 
 most violent fire of the enemy. President Rutledge presented him 
 with a sword, complimenting him highly and publicly. 
 

 BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 315 
 
 Sergeant Macdonald, mortally wounded, and upon the point of 
 expiring, continued to encourage his soldiers in the defence of country 
 and of liberty. These examples of intrepidity were the object of 
 great encomium in all the journals, and in all assemblies, both public 
 and private. 
 
 These happy successes inflamed the minds of the Americans with 
 new ardor. The event having demonstrated of what importance was 
 Fort Moultrie, and on the other hand, how difficult it was to throw 
 succours into it by way of the sea, it was resolved to unite Sullivan's 
 Island to the continent by a bridge. This important work, notwith- 
 standing all the obstacles it presented, was executed by general Gads- 
 den, a zealous patriot, and one of the most distinguished men of the 
 province. The Congress, by a special decree, voted their thanks to 
 major-general Lee, to colonel Moultrie, to colonel Thompson, and to 
 all the officers and soldiers who had displayed eq.ual courage and 
 patriotism in this memorable defence. 
 
 At this epoch, America was found in a strange situation, and 
 actually unheard of till then. The war she had carried on with so 
 much vigor, now, for more than a year, was directed against a king 
 to whom she incessantly renewed her protestations of obedience ; 
 and the same men. who committed all the acts of rebellion, would by 
 no means be called rebels. In all the tribunals, justice was still 
 administered in the name of the king ; and in the churches, prayers 
 were continually repeated for the preservation and happiness of that 
 prince, whose authority was not only entirely rejected, but also fought 
 against with incredible obstinacy. It was declared to be the general 
 wish to resume the ancient connection, to reestablish the original form 
 of the royal government, whereas, in reality, the republican system 
 had been long since introduced. A desire was pretended to arrive 
 at one object, while all those means were resorted to which led to 
 another absolutely opposite ; in effect, in no revolution of state has 
 there ever been observed so much incongruity between words and 
 actions. 
 
 Such a state of things could not have duration ; if the vulgar 
 persuaded themselves that force of arms would reduce the govern- 
 ment to bend before their will, enlightened citizens perceived, 
 distinctly, that the wound was become incurable ; and that it was 
 hoped, in vain, to see the restoration of ancient ties between the 
 colonies and the parent state. They well knew that the obstinacy of 
 the British government was the fruit of pride, and that whatever 
 success the Americans might obtain in the course of the war, they 
 could never be of such a nature as to alarm this government for 
 its own existence ; the only extremity, however, that would be capa- 
 ble of inducing it to listen to a negotiation of accord. 
 
 The Americans could wage only a defensive war ; and even sup- 
 posing they should vanquish the armies of Great Britain, she would 
 
316 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 always be able to renew the conflict. On the other hand, the mere 
 loss of commerce with America, would not suffice to determine the 
 government to accede to the conditions of the colonists, since all the 
 other parts of the globe were open to it. Besides, great naval forces 
 being the surest guaranty of the safety of commerce, that nation, 
 whose marine shall have acquired an acknowledged superiority, will 
 see its commerce increase and flourish under the protection of its 
 flag. Nor should it be omitted, that however the principle of the 
 quarrel seemed to consist in a struggle between limited monarchy and 
 absolute monarchy, it now existed, in fact, only between the monar- 
 chy and the republic. The Americans, therefore, could have no 
 other prospect but of entire liberty and independence; or of total 
 dependence and servitude. 
 
 In this state of things, there was not a man endowed with penetra- 
 tion and experience, who did not perceive that an open and solemn 
 declaration of the object it was desired to attain was the wisest, and 
 even the only resolution the Americans could adopt. Their situation 
 was not rendered by it more critical ; it even offered immediate 
 advantages, and still greater in perspective. Their counsels would 
 thus acquire more' firmness, a point essential to the success of such 
 an enterprise, and foreign succours would become more easily attaina- 
 ble. It might then be believed that the colonists, after having 
 solemnly proclaimed their independence, would combat to the last in 
 its defence. . 
 
 The apprehension of a sudden reconciliation no longer restraining 
 foreign powers, they might openly succour them. And perhaps the 
 pride of England would be less hurt, in case of reverse, at negotiating 
 with the Americans as with an independent nation, than in submitting 
 to the conditions which had been the first occasion of the quarrel ; 
 for war can have no result more bitter than that of compelling him 
 that has waged it to give up to his enemy the very object in dispute. 
 The course, therefore, which the Americans had to pursue, was no 
 longer doubtful, and the Congress was not slow to perceive it. If 
 the resolution was urgent, it could never be taken in circumstances 
 more propitious, or under auspices more favorable. The success 
 of the arms of the patriots in Massachusetts, Virginia and South 
 Carolina, provinces of such chief importance ; the prosperity of their 
 first maritime enterprises ; and the multitude of prizes taken from the 
 enemy by their privateers, inspired a well grounded hope, that what- 
 ever should be decreed by the Congress would have the concurrence 
 of all America. The terror of the English arms had diminished in 
 the minds of all, in proportion to the increase of confidence in the 
 national forces ; the union of the different provinces became more 
 intimate ; the ill success of the loyalists, in their first attempts, had 
 discouraged them, and caused them to be looked upon by the patriots 
 as enemies little to be feared. But if this party was impotent in arms, 
 

 BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 317 
 
 they neglected not to resort to plots, the immediate effect of which 
 was to redouble the animosity of the patriots against a government, 
 that not content, as they said, with employing force, also hired incen- 
 diaries and assassins to practice their horrible arts against innocent 
 cities, and the most virtuous citizens. 
 
 Certain loyalists of New York, gained and instigated, as it was 
 rumored, by governor Tryon, had formed a conspiracy, the object 
 of which was to arrest, and perhaps to murder, general Washington 
 and the other principal officers ; to set fire to the magazines, and to 
 occupy all the avenues of the city at the moment when the British 
 troops, that were expected, should have presented themselves before 
 it. The plot having been discovered, many individuals, who had 
 been concerned in it, were seized, among others, two of the general's 
 guards, and his steward himself; some were executed. 
 
 The horrible project of setting fire to so considerable a city, and 
 attempting the life of a man to whom the people bore so much reve- 
 rence and love, transported tlbe patriots with indignation. They 
 demanded, with loud cries, to be liberated forever from the power of 
 a government which, according to the general opinion, gave wages to 
 such infamous assassins. England herself, by her public acts, pre- 
 cipitated the moment of this total separation. 
 
 The discourse held by the king to the parliament had persuaded 
 the Americans that nothing would be remitted of the measures of 
 rigor adopted against them, and consequently that their preparations 
 of war could not be too formidable. 
 
 The discussions and decisions of parliament, disclosed to them the 
 impotence of those who attempted to defend their cause. But the 
 act of the fifteenth of May, which abandoned American property, 
 private as well as public, to those who could find the way to seize it, 
 had thoroughly apprised the colonists that it was resolved not only to 
 exercise against them the extremes of hostility, but that it was 
 intended to violate, with respect to them, all the principles of those 
 laws which, among civilised nations, still plead for humanity even in 
 the midst of carnage and devastation. In a word, they no longer 
 doubted but that the English ministry was determined to organise 
 against them a system of piracy and robbery. No foreign nation, 
 when their enemy, had ever perpetrated such excesses; much less 
 could they endure them on the part of their own fellow-citizens. But 
 was it possible still to give this name to enemies who no longer 
 observed any measure ? Affection, which has its source in the ties 
 of blood and political union, can no longer exist, when not only the 
 laws in use among friendly nations, but even usages respected by 
 civilised people in the midst of the most cruel discords, have been 
 trampled under foot. And if the English resolved to wage a war of 
 barbarians against America, the least that could follow was, that the 
 latter should view them as foreigners. 
 
318 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 The resolution taken by England to employ, and send against the 
 Americans, the mercenary troops of Germany, whom the colonists 
 looked upon as men devoid of all humanity, had produced the most 
 violent impression upon their minds. From this moment they abjured 
 all sentiment of consanguinity towards a people who sent against their 
 children such cruel executors of their will. * Behold then,' they 
 cried, 'the ministers of peace, the negotiators that England sends us! 
 The soldiers of the princes of Hesse, of Brunswick, and of Waldeck ! 
 The devastations, the massacres, the implacable fury of these hireling 
 Germans, the horrible barbarities of the Indian savages, such are the 
 instruments the British government employs to vanquish our con- 
 stancy, and subject us anew to its yoke ! The English arm foreigners 
 against us; then let us combat the English themselves, as if they were 
 foreigners. Their laws, no less cruel than their soldiers, have severed 
 all our ties; have despoiled us even of the hope to reunite them; 
 wherefore, then, do we still hesitate to adopt a resolution, which if at 
 first it appeared to us painful and prejudicial, every thing now demon- 
 strates to be useful and even necessary?' 
 
 It is certain, that the very measures from which the ministers 
 expected the return of the Americans to submission, served but to 
 redouble their obstinacy, and furnished new arms to the Congress, 
 and to all the partisans of independence. 
 
 Even the greater part of those who had professed contrary 
 opinions, were seen to join with them, or at least to manifest an 
 extreme indifference for the interests of England. Her enemies 
 increased every day in number and hardiness; and every day her 
 friends lost their influence and their zeal. A memorable example 
 for those who, in their blind precipitation, imagine that measures 
 proper to divide men, and to arm them against one another when 
 they are cool, will produce the same effect when they are animated 
 by some violent passion! Then what should appease, irritates; what 
 should intimidate, encourages; and what should divide, assembles and 
 unites. The desire of independence insinuated itself little by little 
 into the minds of all. In public, particularly, the harangues had no 
 other object ; the general attention was fixed upon events. At this 
 epoch appeared a writing entitled Common Sense; it was the produc- 
 tion of Thomas Paine, born in England, and arrived not long before 
 in America. No writer, perhaps, ever possessed, in a higher degree, 
 the art of moving and guiding the multitude at his will. It may be 
 affirmed, in effect, that this work was one of the most powerful instru- 
 ments of American independence. 
 
 The author endeavored, with very plausible arguments, to demon- 
 strate that the opposition of parties, the diversity of interests, the 
 arrogance of the British government, and its ardent thirst of ven- 
 geance, rendered all reconciliation impossible. On the other hand, 
 he enlarged upon the necessity, utility, and possibility of independence. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 319 
 
 He omitted not to sprinkle his pamphlet with declamations calcu- 
 lated to render monarchy odious to the people, and to inspire them 
 with the desire of a republic. The excellency of the English consti- 
 tution had never till then been called in question ; Paine criticised it 
 very freely in the part which relates to the royal power ; but praised 
 its other institutions. He painted all the calamities which had weighed 
 upon England, notwithstanding the much extolled goodness of its 
 constitution, especially since the reestablishment of monarchy ; thence 
 he inferred that it contained some essential vice which opposed the 
 happiness of the people ; and this lurking defect he affirmed was 
 royalty. 
 
 To this he attributed intestine discords, and" the frequency of 
 foreign wars ; he congratulated the Americans that heaven had 
 placed it in their power to create a constitution that should embrace 
 all the excellencies of that of England without any of its defects ; 
 and thus, again, he intimated the exclusion of royalty. The success 
 of this writing of Paine cannot be described. 
 
 The vehemence of opinions redoubled in the minds of all ; even 
 loyalists were seen to declare for liberty ; an unanimous cry arose for 
 independence. 
 
 The Congress determined to seize the opportunity. But to pro- 
 ceed with prudence, they wished first to sound the minds of the 
 people by passing a resolution, which, if it was not independence 
 itself, evidently led to it. They intended to observe its effects, in 
 order to govern their subsequent conduct accordingly. They de- 
 creed, that whereas the British king, in conjunction with the lords 
 and commons of Great Britain, had, by the late acts of parliament, 
 excluded the united colonies from the protection of his crown ; and 
 whereas no answer had been, or probably would be, given to their 
 humble petitions for the repeal of the obnoxious laws, and for a recon- 
 ciliation with Great Britain ; that, on the contrary, all the force of 
 that realm, with the aid of mercenary foreigners, was to be employed 
 for the destruction of the good people of the colonies; and finally, 
 whereas it is contrary to sound reason, and to the consciences of this 
 people, to take the oaths and make the engagements necessary to the 
 assumption and exercise of offices under the crown of Great Britain; 
 and it is necessary that the exercise of every authority, proceeding 
 from the said crown, should be totally annulled, and all the powers of 
 government exercised under the authority of the good people of the 
 colonies ; and this in order to maintain internal peace, good morals, 
 and public order, as well as to defend their lives, liberty, and pro- 
 perty, from the assaults and cruel rapine of their enemies; therefore 
 it was recommended to the respective assemblies and conventions of 
 the united colonies, where no government suited to the exigency of 
 affairs had till then been constituted, that they should establish such 
 governments, as according to the opinion of the representatives of 
 
'320 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 the people, should be most conducive to the happiness and security 
 of their constituents, and of America in general. This resolution of 
 Congress being rapidly notified to all the colonies, encountered among 
 them, respectively, a different reception. Some had already antici- 
 pated it, and, assuming the powers of government, had created insti- 
 tutions independent of the crown, and these no longer temporary, as at 
 first, but stable, and subject to no limitation of time or of condition. 
 Thus Virginia and South Carolina had proceeded. Connecticut and 
 Rhode Island needed no change ; since there, from the earliest times, 
 every authority originated in the people, by whom all public officers 
 were chosen, as well those to whom were entrusted the legislative, as 
 those who exercised the executive powers. Maryland, Pennsylvania 
 and New York, hesitated ; but at length yielded to the necessity of 
 the times. Thus the people of the colonies set about framing new 
 constitutions ; but, with the exception of the parts which relate to 
 regal authority, all preserved those forms which are peculiar and 
 appropriate to the English constitution. 
 
 The three powers, legislative, executive and judiciary, were care- 
 fully separated from each other ; and great jealousy was manifested 
 of the executive. 
 
 In some colonies, the legislature was divided into two branches ; in 
 others it formed but one corps ; but in all, those who held offices of 
 trust or power under the executive were excluded. The judges 
 were paid either by the legislature or by the executive. In some their 
 tenure of office was for a limited period, in others during good beha- 
 vior. The governors were elected for a longer or shorter term of 
 time, according to the greater or less jealousy of the people. In 
 some colonies they possessed the right of veto ; in others not. Here 
 the governor was made responsible for all his acts, there for none, 
 because he was subject to the decisions of an executive council. In 
 all these deliberations, so important to the happiness of the united 
 colonies, no threats, discord, or reproaches, were heard ; and it ap- 
 peared as if all, laying aside ambition, aspired to nothing but the 
 prosperity and liberty of their country. A memorable example of pru- 
 dence, moderation, and concord ! Let other nations reflect on this 
 and blush, for having acted in all times so differently from the Ameri- 
 cans ; if, indeed, corruption of morals has left still the power of 
 blushing to those who rush from conflicts of opinion to discord, and 
 from discord to the effusion of blood. 
 
 The Congress had found all minds disposed to adopt the resolution 
 they meditated ; but to accomplish the work they had commenced, 
 it was requisite that they should be formally authorised by the colo- 
 nies to proclaim independence. 
 
 This great business was conducted with so much prudence, and 
 the people were so much inclined to favor the design, that the greater 
 part of the provincial assemblies invested their representatives in 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 321 
 
 Congress with full powers to carry it into effect. Some also author- 
 ised them to conclude alliances with foreign princes. Pennsylvania 
 and Maryland alone remained in opposition. 
 
 Such was the state of things, when in the sitting of Congress of the 
 eighth of June, a motion having been made to declare independence, 
 Richard Henry Lee, one of the deputies from Virginia, spoke as fol- 
 lows, and was heard with profound attention; 
 
 * I know not, whether among all the civil discords which have been 
 recorded by historians, and which have been excited either by the 
 love of liberty in the people, or by the ambition of princes, there has 
 ever been presented a deliberation more interesting or more import- 
 ant than that which now engages our attention; whether we con- 
 sider the future destiny of this free and virtuous people, or that of 
 our enemies themselves, who, notwithstanding their tyranny and this 
 cruel war, are still our brethren, and descended from a common 
 stock ; or finally, that of the other nations of the globe, whose eyes 
 are intent upon this great spectacle, and who anticipate from our suc- 
 cess more freedom for themselves, or from our defeat apprehend 
 heavier chains and a severer bondage. For the question is not 
 whether we shall acquire an increase of territorial dominion, or wick- 
 edly wrest from others their just possessions ; but whether we shall 
 preserve, or lose forever, that liberty which we have inherited from 
 our ancestors, which we have pursued across tempestuous seas, and 
 which we have defended in this land against barbarous men, fero- 
 cious beasts, and an inclement sky. And if so many and distinguish- 
 ed praises have always been lavished upon the generous defenders of 
 Greek and of Roman liberty, what will be said of us who defend a 
 liberty which is founded not upon the capricious will of an unstable 
 multitude, but upon immutable statutes and tutelary laws; not that 
 which was the exclusive privilege of a few patricians, but that which 
 is the property of all ; not that which was stained by iniquitous ostra- 
 cisms, or the horrible decimation of armies, but that which is pure, 
 temperate, and gentle, and conformed to the civilisation ot the pre- 
 sent age. Why then do we longer procrastinate, and wherefore are 
 these delays ? Let us complete the enterprise already so well com- 
 menced ; and since our union with England can no longer consist 
 with that liberty and peace which are our chief delight, let us dissolve 
 these fatal ties, and conquer forever that good which we already 
 enjoy ; an entire and absolute independence. 
 
 ' But ought I not to begin by observing, that if we have reached 
 that violent extremity, beyond* which nothing can any longer exist 
 between America and England, but either such war or such peace 
 as are made between foreign nations, this can only be imputed to the 
 insatiable cupidity, the tyrannical proceedings, and the outrages, for 
 ten years reiterated, of the British ministers. What have we not 
 done to restore peace, to reestablish harmony ? Who has not heard 
 
 VOL. I. 41 
 
322 THE AMERICAN WAtt. BOOK VI. 
 
 our prayers, and who is ignorant of our supplications ? They have 
 wearied the universe. England alone was deaf to our complaints, 
 and wanted that compassion towards us which we have found among 
 all other nations. And as at first our forbearance, and then our re- 
 sistance, have proved equally insufficient, since our prayers were una- 
 vailing, as well as the blood lately shed ; we must go further, and 
 proclaim our independence. Nor let any one believe that we have 
 any other option left. .The time will certainly come when the fated 
 separation must take place, whether you will or no ; for so it is decreed 
 by the very nature of things, the progressive increase of our population, 
 the fertility of our soil, the extent of our territory, the industry of our 
 countrymen, and the immensity of the ocean which separates the two 
 states. And if this be true, as it is most true, who does not see that 
 the sooner it takes place the better ; and that it would be not only 
 imprudent, but the height of folly, not to seize the present occasion, 
 when British injustice has filled all hearts with indignation, inspired 
 all minds with courage, united all opinions in one, and put arms in 
 every hand ? And how long must we traverse three thousand miles 
 of a stormy sea, to go and solicit of arrogant and insolent men, either 
 counsels or commands to regulate our domestic affairs ? Does it not 
 become a great, rich, and powerful nation, as we are, to look at borne, 
 and not abroad, for the government of its own concerns? And 
 how can a ministry of strangers judge, with any discernment, of our 
 interests, when they know not, and when it little imports them to 
 know, what is good for us, and what is not ? The past justice of the 
 British ministers should warn us against the future, if they should 
 ever seize us again in their cruel claws. Since it has pleased our 
 barbarous enemies to place before us the alternative of slavery or of 
 independence, where is the generous minded man and the lover of 
 his country, who can hesitate to choose ? With these perfidious men 
 no promise is secure, no pledges sacred. Let us suppose, which 
 heaven avert, that we are conquered ; let us suppose an accommoda- 
 tion. What assurance have we of the British moderation in victory, 
 or good faith in treaty ? Is it their having enlisted and let loose against 
 us the ferocious Indians, and the merciless soldiers of Germany? Is 
 it that faith, so often pledged and so often violated in the course of 
 the present contest ; this British faith, which is reputed more false 
 than Punic ? We ought rather to expect, that when we shall have 
 fallen naked and unarmed into their hands, they will wreak upon us 
 their fury and their vengeance ; they will load us with heavier chains, 
 in order to deprive us not only of the power, but even of the hope 
 of again recovering our liberty. But I am willing to admit, although 
 it is a thing without example, that the British government will forget 
 past offences and perform its promises, can we imagine, that after so 
 long dissentions, after so many outrages, so many combats, and so 
 much bloodshed, our reconciliation could be durable, and that every 
 

 BOOK ri. THE AMERICAN WAR. 323 
 
 day, in the midst of so much hatred and rancor, would not afford 
 some fresh subject of animosity . ? The two nations are already sepa- 
 rated in interest and affections ; the one is conscious of its ancient 
 strength, the other has become acquainted with its newly exerted 
 force ; the one desires to rule in an arbitrary manner, the other will 
 not obey even if allowed its privileges. In such a state of things, 
 what peace, what concord, can be expected. The Americans may 
 become faithful friends tb the English, but subjects, never. And 
 even though union could be restored without rancor, it could not 
 without danger. The wealth and power of Great Britain should 
 inspire prudent men with fears for the future. Having reached such 
 a height of grandeur that she has no longer any thing to dread from 
 foreign powers, in the security of peace the spirit of her people will 
 decay, manners will be corrupted, her youth will grow up in the midst 
 of vice, and in this state of degeneration, England will become the 
 prey of a foreign enemy, or an ambitious citizen. If we remain 
 united with her, we shall partake of her corruptions and misfortunes, 
 the more to be dreaded as they will be irreparable ; separated from 
 her, on the contrary, as we are, we should neither have to fear the 
 seductions of peace nor the dangers of war. By a declaration of 
 our freedom, the perils would not be increased ; but we should add 
 to the ardor of our defenders, and to the splendor of victory. Let 
 us then take a firm step, and escape from this labyrinth ; we have 
 assumed the sovereign power, and dare not confess it ; we disobey a 
 king, and acknowledge ourselves his subjects ; wage war against a 
 people, on whom we incessantly protest our desire to depend. What 
 is the consequence of so many inconsistencies? Hesitation paralyses 
 all our measures ; the way we ought to pursue, is not marked out ; 
 our generals are neither respected nor obeyed ; our soldiers have 
 neither confidence nor zeal ; feeble at home, and little considered 
 abroad, foreign princes can neither esteem nor succour so timid and 
 wavering a people. But independence once proclaimed, and our 
 object avowed, more manly and decided measures will be adopted ; 
 all minds will be fired by the greatness of the enterprise, the civil 
 magistrates will be inspired with new zeal, the generals with fresh 
 ardor, and the citizens with greater constancy, to attain so high and 
 so glorious a destiny. There are some who seem to dread the effects 
 of this resolution. But will England, or can she, manifest against us 
 greater vigor and rage than she has already displayed . ? She deems 
 resistance against oppression no less rebellion than independence 
 itself. And where are those formidable troops that are to subdue the 
 Americans . ? What the English could not do, can it be done by Ger- 
 mans ? Are they more brave, or better disciplined ? The number of 
 our enemies is increased ; but our own is not diminished, and the 
 battles we have sustained have given us the practice of arms and 
 the experience of war. Who doubts then, that a declaration of inde- 
 
324 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 pendence will procure us allies ? All nations are desirous of procur- 
 ing, by commerce, the productions of our exuberant soil ; they will 
 visit our ports, hitherto closed by the monopoly of insatiable England. 
 They are no less eager to contemplate the reduction of her hated 
 power ; they all loathe her barbarous dominion ; their succours will 
 evince to our brave countrymen the gratitude they bear them for 
 having been the first to shake the foundations of this Colossus. Fo- 
 reign princes wait only for the extinction of all hazard of reconcilia- 
 tion to throw off their present reserve. If this measure is useful, it 
 is no less becoming our dignity. America has arrived at a degree of 
 power which assigns her a place among independent nations ; we are 
 not less entitled to it than the English themselves. If they have 
 wealth, so also have we ; if they are brave, so are we ; if they are 
 more numerous, our population, through the incredible fruitfulness of 
 our chaste wives, will soon equal theirs ; if they have men of renown 
 as well in peace as in war, we likewise have such ; political revolu- 
 tions usually produce great, brave, and generous spirits. From what 
 we have already achieved in these painful beginnings, it is easy to 
 presume what we shall hereafter accomplish; for experience is the 
 source of sage counsels, and liberty is the mother of great men. 
 Have you not seen the enemy driven from Lexington by thirty thou- 
 sand citizens armed and assembled in one day ? Already their most 
 celebrated generals have yielded in Boston to the skill of ours; already 
 their seamen, repulsed from our coasts, wander over the ocean, where 
 they are the sport of tempest, and the prey of famine. Let us hail 
 the favorable omen, and fight not for the sake of knowing on what 
 terms we are to be the slaves of England, but to secure to ourselves 
 a free existence, to found a just and independent government. Ani- 
 mated by liberty, the Greeks repulsed the innumerable arrny of Per- 
 sians ; sustained by the love of independence, the Swiss and the 
 Dutch humbled the power of Austria by memorable defeats, and 
 conquered a rank among; nations. But the sun of America also 
 shines upon the heads of the brave ; the point of our weapons is no 
 less formidable than theirs ; here also the same union prevails, the 
 same contempt of dangers and of death in asserting the cause of 
 country. 
 
 * Why then do we longer delay, why still deliberate? Let this 
 most happy day give birth to the American republic. Let her arise, 
 not to devastate and conquer, but to reestablish the reign of peace 
 and of the laws. The eyes of Europe are fixed upon us ; she 
 demands of us a living example of freedom, that may contrast, by 
 the felicity of the citizens, with the ever increasing tyranny which 
 desolates her polluted shores. She invites us to prepare an asylum 
 where the unhappy may find solace, and the persecuted repose. 
 She entreats us to cultivate a propitious soil, where that generous 
 plant which first sprung up and grew in England, but is now withered 
 
BOOK VJ. THE AMERICAN WAR. 325 
 
 by the poisonous blasts of Scottish tyranny, may revive and flourish, 
 sheltering under its salubrious and interminable shade all the unfor- 
 tunate of the human race. This is the end presaged by so many 
 omens, by our first victories, by the present ardor and union, by the 
 flight of Howe, and the pestilence which broke out amongst Dun- 
 rnore's people, by the very winds which baffled the enemy's fleets 
 and transports, and that terrible tempest which ingulfed seven hun- 
 dred vessels upon the coasts of Newfoundland. If we are not this 
 day wanting in our duty to country, the names of the American 
 legislators will be placed, by posterity, at the side >f those of The- 
 seus, of Lycurgus, of Romulus, of Numa, of the three Williams of 
 Nassau, and of all those whose memory has been, and will be, for- 
 ever dear to virtuous men and good citizens.' 
 
 Lee had scarcely ceased speaking, when no dubious signs of 
 approbation were manifested on all parts. But the deputies of 
 Pennsylvania and Maryland not being present, and the Congress 
 desirous, by some delay, to evidence the maturity of their delibera- 
 tions, adjourned the further consideration of the subject to the first 
 of July. Meanwhile, the patriots labored strenuously to induce the 
 two dissenting provinces also to decide for independence. They 
 employed the most earnest persuasions, to which they added also 
 threats, intimating that not only would the other colonies exclude 
 them from the confederation, but that they would immediately treat 
 them as enemies. The provincial assembly of Pennsylvania remain- 
 ed inflexible. At length, the inhabitants of Pennsylvania formed a 
 convention, in which the debates and disputes upon the question of 
 independence were many and vehement. 
 
 John Dickinson, one of the deputies of the province to the general 
 Congress, a man of prompt genius, of extensive influence, and one 
 of the most zealous partisans of American liberty, restricted however 
 to the condition of union with England, harangued, it is said, in the 
 following manner against independence. 
 
 1 It too often happens, fellow-citizens, that men, heated by the 
 spirit of party, give more importance in their discourses to the sur- 
 face and appearance of objects, than either to reason or justice ; 
 thus evincing that their aim is not to appease tumults, but to excite 
 them ; not to repress the passions, but to inflame them ; not to com- 
 pose ferocious discords, but to exasperate and imbitter them more 
 and more. They aspire but to please the powerful, to gratify their 
 own ambition, to flatter the caprices of the multitude, in order to 
 captivate their favor. Accordingly, in popular commotions, the 
 party of wisdom and of equity is commonly found in the minority ; 
 and perhaps it would be safer, in difficult circumstances, to consult 
 the smaller instead of the greater number. Upon this principle I 
 invite the attention of those who hear me, since my opinion may 
 differ from that of the majority ; but I dare believe it will be shared 
 
326 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 by all impartial and moderate citizens, who condemn this tumultuous 
 proceeding, this attempt to coerce our opinions, and to drag us with 
 so much precipitation to the most serious and important of decisions. 
 But coming to the subject in controversy, I affirm, that prudent men 
 do not abandon objects which are certain, to go in pursuit of those 
 which offer only uncertainty. Now it is an established fact, that 
 America can be well and happily governed by the English laws, 
 under the same king, and the same parliament. Two hundred years 
 of happiness furnish the proof of it ; and we find it also in the pre- 
 sent prosperity which is the result of these venerable laws and of 
 this ancient union. It is not as independent, but as subjects ; not as 
 republic, but as monarchy ; that we have arrived at this degree of 
 power and of greatness. 
 
 ' What then is the object of these chimeras hatched in the days 
 of discord and war ? Shall the transports of fury have more power 
 over us than the experience of ages f Shall we destroy, in a moment 
 of anger, the work cemented and tested by time ? 
 
 ' I know the name of liberty is dear to each one of us ; but have 
 we not enjoyed liberty even under the English monarchy ? Shall we 
 this day renounce that, to go and seek it in I know not what form of 
 republic, which will soon change into a licentious anarchy and popu- 
 lar tyranny ? In the human body the head only sustains and governs 
 all the members, directing them, with admirable harmony, to the 
 same object, which is self-preservation and happiness ; so the head 
 of the body politic, that is the king in concert with the parliament, 
 can alone maintain the union of the members of this empire, lately 
 so flourishing, and prevent civil war by obviating all the evils produc- 
 ed by variety of opinions and diversity of interests. And so firm is 
 my persuasion of this, that I fully believe the most cruel war which 
 Great Britain could make upon us, would be that of not making 
 any ; and that the surest means of bringing us back to her obedience, 
 would be that of employing none. For the dread of the English 
 arms once removed, provinces would rise up against provinces, and 
 'cities against cities ; and we should be seen to turn against ourselves 
 the arms we have taken up to combat the common enemy. 
 
 ' Insurmountable necessity would then compel us to resort to the 
 tutelary authority which we should have rashly abjured, and if it 
 consented to receive us again under its Egis, it would be no longer 
 as free citizens, but as slaves. Still inexperienced, and in our 
 infancy, what proof have we given of our ability to walk without a 
 guide . ? none ; and if we judge of the future by the past, we must 
 conclude that our concord will continue as long as the danger, and 
 no longer. 
 
 { Even when the powerful hand of England supported us, for the 
 paltry motives of territorial limits and distant jurisdictions, have we 
 not abandoned ourselves to discords, and sometimes even to vie- 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 327 
 
 lence ? And what must we not expect now that minds are heated, 
 ambitions roused, and arms in the hands of all ? 
 
 * if, therefore, our union with England offers us so many advan- 
 tages for the maintenance of internal peace, it is no less necessary 
 to procure us with foreign powers that condescension and respect 
 which is so essential to the prosperity of our commerce, to the 
 enjoyment of any consideration, and to the accomplishment of any 
 enterprise. Hitherto in our intercourse with the different nations of 
 the world, England has lent us the support of her name and of her 
 arms ; we have presented ourselves in all the ports and in all the 
 cities of the globe, not as Americans, a people scarcely heard of, but 
 as English ; under the shadow of this respected name, every port was 
 open to us, every way was smooth, every demand was heard with 
 favor. From the moment when our separation shall take place, 
 every thing will assume a contrary direction. The nations will 
 accustom themselves to look upon us with disdain ; even the pirates 
 of Africa and Europe will fall upon our vessels, will massacre our 
 seamen, or lead them into a cruel and perpetual slavery. 
 
 ' There is in the human species, often so inexplicable in their affec- 
 tions, a manifest propensity to oppress the feeble as well as to flatter 
 the powerful. Fear always carries it against reason, pride against 
 moderation, and cruelty against clemency. 
 
 1 Independence, I am aware, has attractions for all mankind ; but 
 I maintain, that in the present quarrel the friends of independence 
 are the promoters of slavery, and that those who desire to separate 
 us, would but render us more dependent ; if independence means 
 the right of commanding, and not the necessity of obeying, and if 
 being dependent is to obey, and not to command, If in rendering 
 ourselves independent of England, supposing, however, that we 
 should be able to effect it, we might be so at the same time of all 
 other nations, I should applaud the project ; but to change the con- 
 dition of English subjects for that of slaves to the whole world, is a 
 step that could only be counselled by insanity. If you would reduce 
 yourselves to the necessity of obeying, in all things, the mandates of 
 supercilious France, who is now kindling fire under our feel, declare 
 yourselves independent. If to British liberty you prefer the liberty 
 of Holland, of Venice, of Genoa, or of Ragusa, declare yourselves 
 independent. But if we would not change the signification of words, 
 let us preserve and carefully maintain this dependence, which has 
 been down to this very hour the principle and source of our pros- 
 perity, of our liberty, of our real independence. 
 
 ' But here I am interrupted, and told that no one questions the 
 advantages which America derived at first from her conjunction with 
 England ; but that the new pretensions of the ministers have changed 
 all, have subverted all. If I should deny that, for the last twelve 
 years, the English government has ^iven the most fatal direction to 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 the affairs of the colonies, and that its measures towards us savor of 
 tyranny, 1 should deny not only what is the manifest tVuth, but even 
 what 1 have so often advanced and supported. But is there any 
 doubt that it already feels a secret repentance? These arms, these 
 soldiers, it prepares against us, are not designed to establish tyranny 
 upon our shores, but to vanquish our obstinacy, and compel us to 
 subscribe to conditions of accommodation. In vain is it asserted 
 that the ministry will employ all means to make themselves quite 
 sure of us, in order to exercise upon us, with impunity, all the rigor 
 of their power ; for to pretend to reduce us to an absolute impossi- 
 bility of resistance in cases of oppression, would be, on their part, a 
 chimerical project. The distance of the seat of government, the 
 vast extent of intervening seas, the continual increase of our popula- 
 tion, our warlike'spirit, our experience in arms, the lakes, the rivers, 
 the forests, the defiles which abound in our territory, are our pledges 
 that England will always prefer to found her power upon moderation 
 and liberty, rather than upon rigor and oppression. An uninterrupted 
 succession of victories and of triumphs could alone constrain England 
 to acknowledge American independence; which, whether we can 
 expect, whoever knows the instability of fortune can easily judge. 
 
 ' If we have combated successfully at Lexington and at Boston, 
 Quebec and all Canada have witnessed our reverses. Every one 
 sees the. necessity of opposing the extraordinary pretensions of the 
 ministers; but does every body see also that of fighting for inde- 
 pendence ? 
 
 ' It is to be feared, that by changing the object of the war, the 
 present harmony will be interrupted, that the ardor of the people will 
 be chilled by apprehensions for their new situation. By substituting 
 a total dismemberment to the revocation of the laws we complain of, 
 we should fully justify the ministers; we should merit the infamous 
 name of rebels, and all the British nation would arm, with an unani- 
 mous impulse, against those who, from oppressed and complaining 
 subjects, should have become all at once irreconcilable enemies. 
 The English cherish the liberty we defend ; they respect the dignity 
 of our cause ; but they will blame, they will- detest, our recourse to 
 independence, and will unite with one consent to combat us. 
 
 4 The propagators of the new doctrine are pleased to assure us that, 
 out of jealousy towards England, foreign sovereigns will lavish their 
 succours upon us ; as if these sovereigns could sincerely applaud 
 rebellion ; as if they had not colonies, even here in America, in 
 which it is important for them to maintain obedience and tranquillity. 
 Let us suppose, however, that jealousy, ambition, or vengeance, 
 should triumph over the fear of insurrections; do you think U^ese 
 princes will not make you pay dear for the assistance with which they 
 flatter you ? Who has not learnt, to his cost, the perfidy and the cupidi- 
 ty of Europeans? They will disguise their avarice under pompous 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 329 
 
 words ; under the most benevolent pretexts they will despoil us of out 
 territories, they will invade our fisheries and obstruct our navigation, 
 they will attempt our liberty and our privileges. We shall learn too 
 late what it costs to trust in those European flatteries, and to place 
 that confidence in inveterate enemies which has been withdrawn from 
 long tried friends. 
 
 1 There are many persons who, to gain their ends, extol the advan- 
 tages of a republic over monarchy. I will not here undertake to 
 examine which of these two forms of government merits the pre- 
 ference. I know, however, that the English nation, after having 
 tried them both, has never found repose except in monarchy. I 
 know, also, that in popular republics themselves, so necessary is 
 monarchy to cement human society, it has been requisite to institute 
 monarchical powers, more or less extensive, under the names of 
 Jlrchons, of Consuls, of Doges, of Gonfaloniers, and finally of 
 Kings. Nor should I here omit an observation, the truth of which 
 appears to me incontestable ; the English constitution seems to be 
 the fruit of the experience of all anterior time; in which monarchy 
 is so tempered, that the monarch finds himself checked in his efforts 
 to seize absolute power ; and the authority of the people is so regu- 
 lated, that anarchy is not to be feared. But for us it is to be appre- 
 hended, that when the counterpoise of monarchy shall no longer 
 exist, the democratic power may carry all before it, and involve the 
 whole state in confusion and ruin. Then an ambitious citizen may 
 arise, seize the reins of power, and annihilate liberty forever ; for 
 such is the ordinary career of ill balanced democracies, they fall 
 into anarchy, and thence under despotism. 
 
 ' Such are the opinions which might have been offered you with 
 more eloquence, but assuredly not with more zeal or sincerity. May 
 heaven grant that such sinister forebodings be not one day accom- 
 plished ! May it not permit that, in this solemn concourse of the friends 
 of country, the impassioned language of presumptuous and ardent 
 men should have more influence than the pacific exhortations of 
 good and sober citizens ; prudence and moderation found and preserve 
 empires, temerity and presumption occasion their downfall.' 
 
 The discourse of Dickinson was heard with attention ; but the 
 current flowed irresistibly strong in a contrary direction, and fear 
 acting upon many more powerfully even than their opinion, the 
 majority pronounced in favor of independence. The deputies of 
 Pennsylvania were accordingly authorised to return to Congress, and 
 to consent that the confederate colonies should declare themselves 
 free and independent states. 
 
 The formal opposition of Dickinson caused him to be excluded. 
 
 The same things took place in Maryland ; this province, feeble by 
 
 itself, and situated in the midst of the others, also empowered its 
 
 deputies to resume their seats in Congress, and to approve independ- 
 
 VOL. i. 42 
 
330 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 ence. Consequently, the fourth of July, 1776, upon the report of 
 Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, 
 and Philip Livingston, the thirteen confederate colonies dissolved all 
 their allegiance towards the British crown, and declared themselves 
 free and independent, under the name of the thirteen United States 
 of America. The manifesto which the Congress caused to be 
 published to justify their resolution in the sight of all mankind, was 
 attributed particularly to Jefferson ; it was drawn up with great 
 energy of style and argument. The writers of the time bestowed 
 the highest encomiums on this declaration, which laid the foundation 
 of the independence of a rich and powerful nation. 
 
 It commenced with these words ; 
 
 4 When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for 
 one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them 
 with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the 
 separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's 
 God entitle them, a decent regard to the opinions of mankind requires 
 that they should declare the causes which impel them to the sepa- 
 ration. 
 
 * We hold these truths to be self evident ; that all men are created 
 equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unaliena- 
 ble rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of 
 happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted 
 among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the 
 governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes destruc- 
 tive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, 
 and to institute a new government, laying its foundations on such 
 principles, and organising its powers in such form, as to them shall 
 seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, 
 indeed, will dictate that governments long established, should not be 
 changed for light and transient causes ; and accordingly all experience 
 hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils 
 are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to 
 which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and 
 usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to 
 reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, 
 to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their 
 future felicity. Such has been the patient sufferance of these colo- 
 nies, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter 
 their former systems of government.' 
 
 After an exact enumeration of the wrongs received, and of the 
 oppression sustained, it was added, that 'a prince, whose character 
 is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to 
 be the ruler of a free people.' Then having recounted the public 
 appeals made at different times to the English people, their constant 
 refusal to hear the voice of justice and of consanguinity, the mani- 
 festo concluded with these words ; 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 331 
 
 * We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces 
 our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, 
 enemies in war, in peace friends. 
 
 1 We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of Ame- 
 rica, in general Congress assembled, appealing to the supreme judge 
 of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, and by authority of 
 the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, 
 That these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and 
 independent states ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the 
 British crown, and that all political connexion between them and the 
 state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that 
 as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, 
 conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do 
 all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. 
 And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the 
 protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other 
 our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.'* 
 
 Such was this famous declaration of the independence of the United 
 States of America, which, if it was necessary, as it appears to have 
 been, was not, however, exempt from peril. For although the 
 greater part of the Americans perceived that the course of things 
 must have led them to this extremity, there were still many who 
 openly manifested contrary sentiments. They were unfortunately 
 more numerous in the provinces menaced by the English than in 
 any other. The American armies were feeble, the treasury poor, 
 foreign succours uncertain, and the ardor of the people might abate 
 all at once. 
 
 It was known that England was determined to exert all her 
 forces for the reduction of the colonies, before they should have 
 time to become confirmed in their rebellion ; or to form alliances 
 with foreign powers. If the American arms, as there was but too 
 much reason to fear, should prove unfortunate in the ensuing cam- 
 paign, it could not be disguised that the people would lay it to the 
 charge of independence ; and that according to the ordinary move- 
 ment of the human mind, they would rapidly retrograde towards the 
 opinions they had abjured. When despair once begins, the prostra- 
 tion of energy follows as its immediate consequence. But the war 
 was inevitable, all arrangement impossible, and the Congress urged 
 by necessity to take a decisive resolution. On every side they saw 
 dangers, but they preferred to brave them for the attainment of 
 a determinate object, rather than trust any longer to the uncertain 
 hope of the repeal of the laws against which they were in arms. 
 
 For it was even difficult to designate which of these laws were to 
 be revoked. Some desired to have all those repealed which had 
 
 f See Note I. 
 
332 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 been passed since the year 1763 ; others only proscribed a part of 
 them ; and there were still others whom a total abrogation would 
 not have satisfied, and who wished also for the abolition of some 
 ancient statutes. In the heat of debates, propositions had been 
 advanced to which it was impossible that Great Britain should ever 
 consent. Nor can it be denied that the declaration of independence 
 was conformable to the nature of things. Circumstances would not 
 have endured much longer that a people like that of America, 
 numerous, wealthy, warlike, and accustomed to liberty, should 
 depend upon another, at a great distance, and little superior in 
 power. . The English ministry could not shut their eyes upon it ; 
 and such was perhaps the secret reason of their obduracy in attempt- 
 ing to load the Americans with heavier chains. It is also certain 
 that foreign princes would not have consented to succour, or to 
 receive into their alliance, a people who acknowledged themselves 
 the subjects of another power ; whereas it might be expected, that 
 they would unite their efforts to those of a nation determined, at all 
 hazards, to obtain the recognition of its liberty and independence. 
 In the first case, even victory would not have given allies to the 
 Americans ; in the second, they were assured of them only by 
 showing themselves resolved to sustain their cause with arms in 
 band. 
 
 However this may be, it is certain that the declaration was receiv- 
 ed by the people with transports of joy. Nor were any of those 
 public demonstrations omitted which governments are accustomed to 
 employ, on similar occasions, to conciliate the favor of the people to 
 their determinations. Independence was proclaimed, with great 
 solemnity, at Philadelphia, the eighth of July. The artillery was 
 fired, bonfires were kindled ; the people seemed actually delirious 
 with exultation. On the eleventh, the manifesto of Congress was 
 published in New York, and was read to each brigade of the Ame- 
 rican army, which, at that lime, was assembled in the vicinity of the 
 city ; it was received with universal acclamations. The same even- 
 ing the statue of king George III., which had been erected in 1770, 
 was taken down and dragged through the streets by the sons of 
 liberty. It was decided, that the lead of which it was composed, 
 should be converted into musket balls. These excesses, however 
 blameable in themselves, were not without utility if considered poli- 
 tically ; they excited the people and hurried them on to the object 
 that was desired. At Baltimore, independence having been pro- 
 claimed in the presence of cannoniers and militia, the people could 
 not contain their enthusiasm. The air resounded with salutes of 
 artillery, and the shouts that hailed the freedom and happiness 
 of the United States of America. The effigy of the king became 
 the sport of the populace, and was afterwards burnt in the public 
 square. 
 
BOOK VI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 333 
 
 The rejoicings at Boston were the greatest of all. Independence 
 was there proclaimed from the balcony of the . State house, in the 
 presence of all the authorities, civil and military, and of an immense 
 concourse of people, as well from the city itself as from the country. 
 The garrison was drawn up in order of battle in King street, which 
 from that moment took the name of State street ; the troops formed 
 in thirteen detachments, to denote the thirteen United States. At a 
 given signal, a salute of thirteen cannon was fired upon Fort Hill, 
 which was immediately answered by an equal number from the 
 batteries of the Castle, of the Neck, of Nantasket, and of Point 
 Alderton. The garrison, in their turn, fired thirteen salutes of mus- 
 ketry, each detachment firing in succession. The authorities and 
 most considerable inhabitants then convened at a banquet prepared 
 in the council chamber, when they drank toasts to the perpetuity 
 and prosperity of the United States, to the American Congress, to 
 general Washington, to the success of the arms of the confederacy, 
 to the destruction of tyrants, to the propagation of civil and religious 
 liberty, to the friends of the United States in all parts of the world. 
 All the bells rung in token of felicitation ; the joy was universal, and 
 its demonstrations were incessantly renewed. In the evening, all 
 the ensigns of royalty, lions, sceptres or crowns, whether sculptured 
 or painted, were torn in pieces and burnt in State street. 
 
 But in Virginia, it would be impossible to describe the exultation 
 that was manifested. 
 
 The Virginian convention decreed that the name of the king 
 should be suppressed in all the public prayers. They ordained that 
 the great seal of the Commonwealth of Virginia should represent 
 Virtue as the tutelary genius of the province, robed in drapery of an 
 Amazon, resting one hand upon her lance, and holding with the 
 other a sword, trampling upon tyranny, under the figure of a pros- 
 trate man, having near him a crown fallen from his head, and bear- 
 ing in one hand a broken chain, and in the other a scourge. At 
 foot was charactered the word Virginia, and round the effigy of 
 Virtue was inscribed Sic semper tyrannis. The reverse repre- 
 sented a group of figures ; in the middle stood Liberty with her 
 wand and cap ; on one side was Ceres, with the horn of plenty in 
 the right hand, and a sheaf of wheat in the left ; upon the other 
 appeared Eternity, with the globe and the phoenix. At foot were 
 found these words Deus nobis hcec otia fecit. 
 
 In the midst of these transports, nothing was forgotten that might 
 tend to inspire the people with affection for the new order of things, 
 and a violent hatred, not only towards tyranny, but also against 
 monarchy ; the republicans using all their address to confound the 
 one with the other as eternally inseparable by their essence. 
 
 Thus, on the one hand, the American patriots, by their secret 
 manreuvres, and then by a daring resolution ; and on the other, the 
 
334 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI. 
 
 British ministers, at first by oppressive laws, and afterwards by hesi- 
 tating counsels and the employment of an inadequate force, gave 
 origin to a crisis which eventually produced the entire dismember- 
 ment of a splendid and powerful empire. So constant are men in 
 the pursuits of liberty ; and so obstinate in ambition. But also so 
 timid are they in their resolutions, and ever more prompt to warn 
 their enemy of his danger by threats, than to overwhelm him by 
 force. 
 
 It is certain that the English ministers wanted either sagacity to 
 foresee the evil, or energy to remedy it. The tumults of America 
 broke out unobserved, and grew without obstacle, till at length, 
 swoln like an overflowing river, they acquired such an impetuosity 
 as to sweep before them the impotent dikes with which it was 
 attempted too late to oppose thejn. 
 
 END OF BOOK SIXTH. 
 
NOTE TO BOOK VI. 
 
 NOTE I. PAGE 331. 
 
 THE MEMBERS WHO COMPOSED THE CONGRESS, AND WHO 
 ALL SIGNED THE DECLARATION, ARE THE FOLLOWING ; 
 
 JOHN HANCOCK, President. 
 
 NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 JOSIAH BARTLETT, 
 WILLIAM WHIPPLK, 
 MATTHEW THORNTON. 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 SAMUEL ADAMS, 
 JOHN ADAMS, 
 ROBERT TREAT PAINE, 
 ELBRIDGE GERKY. 
 
 RHODE ISLAND. 
 STEPHEN HOPKINS, 
 WILLIAM ELLERY. 
 
 CONNECTICUT. 
 
 ROGER SHERMAN, 
 SAMUEL HUNTINGTON, 
 WILLIAM WILLIAMS, 
 OLIVER WOLCOTT. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 WILLIAM FLOYD, 
 PHILIP LIVINGSTON, 
 FRANCIS LEWIS, 
 LEWIS MORRIS. 
 
 NEW JERSEY. 
 
 RICHARD STOCKTON, 
 JOHN WITHERSPOON, 
 FRANCIS HOPKINSON, 
 JOHN HART, 
 ABRAHAM CLARK. 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 ROBERT MORRIS, 
 BENJAMIN RUSH, 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 JOHN MORTON, 
 GEORGE CLYMER, 
 
 JAMES SMITH, 
 GEORGE TAYLOR, 
 JAMES WILSON, 
 GEORGE Ross. 
 
 DELAWARE. 
 
 CJESAR RODNEY, 
 GEORGE READ, 
 THOMAS M'KEAN. 
 
 MARYLAND. 
 
 SAMUEL CHASE, 
 WILLIAM PACA, 
 THOMAS STONE, 
 CHARLES CARROLL, (of Carrollton.) 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 GEORGE WYTHE, 
 RICHARD HENRY LEE, 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON, 
 BENJAMIN HARRISON, 
 THOMAS NELSON, Jun. 
 FRANCIS LIGHTFOOT LEE, 
 CARTER BRAXTON. 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA. 
 
 WILLIAM HOOPER, 
 JOSEPH HEWES, 
 JOHN PENN. 
 
 SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 EDWARD RUTLEPGE, 
 THOMAS HEYWARD, Jun. 
 THOMAS LYNCH, Jun. 
 ARTHUR MIDDLETON. 
 
 GEORGIA 
 
 BUTTON GWINNETT, 
 LYMAN HALL, 
 GEORGE WALTON 
 
336 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 BOOK SEVENTH. 
 
 1776. HAVING sketched the two first periods of this obstinate 
 contest, in the first of which we have seen the British ministers pro- 
 voking the Americans,, by oppressive laws, to resistance and revolt ; 
 and in the second, conducting the war which ensued with feeble 
 counsels and insufficient means ; the order of history requires that we 
 should now proceed to the recital of the events which signalised the 
 third, wherein, at length displaying all their force, they proposed to 
 suppress the rebellion entirely, and to reduce the colonists to sub- 
 jection. 
 
 General Howe having arrived from Halifax, landed the twenty- 
 fifth of June at Sandy Hook, a point of land situated at the entrance 
 of the Gulf, comprehended between the main land of New Jersey, 
 the mouth of the Rariton, Staten Island, and the opening of the bay 
 of New York, on the one side, and Long Island on the other. On 
 the second of July he took possession of Staten Island. The reso- 
 lution of independence may, therefore, be praised for its boldness, 
 or blamed for its temerity ; which was taken, as is seen, at the very 
 instant when England was preparing to attack, with formidable forces, 
 the most vulnerable parts of America. The general would have 
 preferred waiting at Halifax till the arrival of the reenforcements 
 expected from Europe, with the fleet of his brother, the admiral, in 
 order to repair, in concert with him, to the waters of New York, and 
 to terminate the war by a sudden and decisive blow. But the Eng- 
 lish fleet delayed to appear, and the quarters of Halifax were as in- 
 convenient, as provisions were scarce there ; a part of the troops 
 had been compelled to remain on board the ships. The season for 
 operations also advancing, general Howe determined to go and wait 
 for his reenforcements in the vicinity of New York ; the squadron of 
 convoy was commanded by admiral Shuldam. 
 
 He was joined in the passage by some regiments that, having been 
 separated from the fleet by contrary winds, were steering alone for 
 Halifax. Other corps fell into the power of the American cruisers. 
 The inhabitants of Staten Island received the English general with 
 great demonstrations of joy ; the soldiers being quartered about in 
 the villages, found, in abundance, the refreshments of which they 
 were in the greatest need. Here general Howe was visited by go- 
 vernor Tryon, who gave him precise information with respect to the 
 state of the province, as also with regard to the forces and prepa- 
 rations of the enemy. Many inhabitants of New Jersey came to 
 offer themselves to be enrolled for the royal service ; even those of 
 Staten Island were forward to enlist under the English standard ; 
 every thing announced that the army had only to show itself in the 
 
OOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 337 
 
 provinces to be assured of a prompt victory. Admiral Howe, after 
 touching at Halifax, where he found despatches from his brother, 
 who urged him to come and join him at New York, made sail again 
 immediately, and landed, without accident, at Staten Island, the 
 twelfth of July. General Clinton arrived there about the same time, 
 with the troops he reconducted from the unfortunate expedition of 
 Charleston. Commodore Hotham also appeared there with the re- 
 enforcements under his escort ; so that in a short time the army 
 amounted to about twenty-four thousand men, between English, Hes- 
 sians, and Waldekers. Several regiments of Hessian infantry were 
 expected to arrive shortly, when the army would be carried to the 
 number of thirty-five thousand combatants, of the best troops of Eu- 
 rope. America had never seen such a display of forces. 
 
 It began now to appear that the ministers had at length adopted 
 vigorous measures, hoping to terminate the war at a blow, and to 
 repair the evils produced by their long hesitation and delays. 
 
 General and admiral Howe, both officers of high distinction, were 
 to combine their efforts against the province of New York ; which, 
 feeble by itself, broken by a great number of islands and large rivers, 
 and offering a great extent of coasts, was more exposed than any 
 other to the attacks of an enemy that was master at sea. 
 
 The English army was abundantly provided with arms and muni- 
 tions, and the soldiers manifested an extreme ardor for the service 
 of the king. The English, besides their particular hatred against 
 the insurgents, were also stimulated by their national jealousy towards 
 the Germans ; they considered the confidence placed by the govern- 
 ment in these strangers as indicating a want of it in them. They 
 were eager to prove to the world that, without their assistance, they 
 were capable of subduing America. The Germans, on their part, 
 who justly thought themselves not inferior to the English, would by 
 no means appear to yield to them, and this reciprocal emulation war- 
 ranted the expectation of extreme efforts on the one part and on the 
 other. When the submission of the province of New York should 
 have given the English a firm footing in America, small garrisons, 
 supported by a formidable maritime force, would be sufficient to de- 
 fend it against the insults of the enemy, and the army might safely 
 proceed to the conquest of the adjacent provinces. 
 
 New York, forming the centre of the American colonies, the Eng- 
 lish army would be able to turn at will, either upon the right, in order 
 to carry the war into Connecticut and all New England, or upon the 
 left to scour New Jersey and menace Philadelphia itself. It was 
 besides very easy, by means of frigates and other smaller vessels, to 
 maintain the communication between the two parts of the army upon 
 the right and left banks of the Hudson, and even to pass it upon 
 occasion, and promptly transport troops from one side to the other, 
 VOL. i. 43 
 
338 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Finally, this position of New York, as well by its nature as by rea- 
 son of the numerous marine of the English, was for them a place of 
 arms, whence they could infest the neighboring places, attack their 
 enemies 'at their own time, combat them with success, and retreat 
 without danger. 
 
 They resolved, accordingly, to make it the centre of their opera- 
 tions ; the loyalists were also very numerous theve, and in no city of 
 America, was the party of the Congress more feeble. 
 
 There occurred, also, another consideration of the highest import- 
 ance. If general Carleton, after having passed, as was hoped, the 
 lakes of Canada, could penetrate to the banks of the Hudson, and 
 descend this river at the same time that general Howe should ascend 
 it, their conjunction would have the immediate effect of interrupting all 
 communication between the provinces of New England, situated upon 
 the left bank, and those of the middle and south, which are found 
 upon the right ; and such had always been the favorite plan of the 
 ministry. 
 
 Finally, it was considered that Long Island, separated from the 
 island of New York only by the East river, and being abundant in 
 grains and in cattle, offered the means of subsistence for the most 
 numerous army. Its inhabitants, besides, were believed to be well 
 inclined towards the royal cause. 
 
 While general Howe was seconded in his invasion of New York 
 by the twelve or thirteen thousand men coming from Canada under 
 governor Carleton, general Clinton was to operate in the provinces of 
 the south, and to attack Charleston. The American troops being 
 thus divided, and their generals surprised and pressed on so many 
 sides at once, it was not doubted but that the British arms would soon 
 obtain a complete triumph. But there happened in this occurrence 
 what is often seen in the execution of human designs, when their 
 success depends upon the concurrence of a great number of parts ; 
 one proceeds towards the object, another recedes from it, and all 
 equally miss it. 
 
 A prosperous event in this business appeared the less probable, 
 since independently of the obstacles raised by men, it was necessary 
 also to combat the winds and the seasons. Would it not have been 
 calculating upon a scarcely possible contingency, to have expected 
 the arrival of three distinct corps of the army at their places of de- 
 stination at the hour prefixed, so as to operate in perfect concert:* 
 Was it even certain that all the three would prove victorious ? This, 
 however, was necessary to secure the execution of the plan of the 
 campaign. 
 
 It happened, therefore, on the one part, that admiral Howe, having 
 been retarded by contrary winds, did not land his reenforcements till 
 after the expedition of Charleston had totally miscarried, as we have 
 related. And on the other, the army of Canada encountered so many 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 339 
 
 obstacles to the passage of the lakes, that it was not able to make 
 its way this year to the banks of the Hudson. Whence it resulted 
 not only that Washington was not compelled to weaken the already 
 feeble army which he had upon the coasts, in order to send suc- 
 cours into South Carolina, or towards Canada, but that the same sol- 
 diers who had so valiantly defended Charleston, went to reenforce 
 those who guarded the passage of the lakes, or joined the principal 
 army. But notwithstanding these failures, it was still confidently 
 hoped that general Howe would be able alone to make a decisive 
 campaign. This hope was not perhaps devoid of all foundation. It 
 is plain, therefore, how many probabilities the British ministers 
 and generals would have united in their favor, if instead of having 
 scattered their forces upon several points, they had concentrated them 
 in a single mass, leaving only sufficient garrisons in the places neces- 
 sary to their operations. 
 
 The Americans, on their part, had neglected no preparative in 
 order to resist the storm with which they were menaced. The Con- 
 gress had ordained the construction of rafts, of gun boats, of galleys, 
 and of floating batteries, for the defence of the port of New York 
 and the mouths of the Hudson. But it could not be hoped that such 
 feeble preparations were competent to oppose, with any chance of 
 success, the formidable marine of England. 
 
 The Congress had also decreed that thirteen thousand of the pro- 
 vincial militia should go and join the army of Washington, who, being 
 seasonably apprised of the danger of New York, had made a movement 
 into that quarter ; they also directed the organisation of a corps of ten 
 thousand men, destined to serve as a reserve in the provinces of the 
 centre. All the weakest posts had been carefully intrenched, and 
 furnished with artillery. A strong detachment occupied Long Island, 
 to prevent the English from landing there, or to repulse them if they 
 should effect a debarkation. But tiie army of the Congress was very 
 far from having all the necessary means to support the burthen of so 
 terrible a war. It wanted arms, and it was wasted by diseases. 
 The reiterated instances of the commander-in-chief had drawn into 
 his camp the militia of the neighboring provinces, and some regular 
 regiments from Maryland, from Pennsylvania, and from New England, 
 which had carried his army to the number of twenty-seven thousand 
 men; but a fourth part of these troops was composed of invalids, and 
 scarcely was another fourth furnished with arms. The greatest part, 
 without order, as without discipline, could inspire little confidence. 
 
 These inconveniences, so seriously alarming for the success of the 
 American cause, 'proceeded partly from the want of money, which 
 prevented the Congress from paying regular troops and providing for 
 their equipment, and partly from an impolitic parsimony contracted 
 during peace, which withheld them from incurring, with promptitude, 
 the expenses rendered necessary by a state of war. Their rooted 
 
340 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 jealousy of standing armies contributed also to the same effect ; it had 
 even inspired them with the idle hope of being able to organise every 
 year an army sufficient to resist the forces of the enemy. 
 
 Perhaps, finally, many of the colonists were reluctant to take arms, 
 because they still .flattered themselves that the commissioners of the 
 king, being at the same time chiefs of the troops, and negotiators of 
 peace, might succeed in effecting a general reconciliation. , 
 
 The American army, such as it was, occupied the positions most 
 suitable to cover the menaced points. The corps which had been 
 stationed in Long Island was commanded by major-general Greene, 
 who, on account of sickness, was afterwards succeeded by general 
 Sullivan. The main body of the army encamped in the island of 
 New York, which, it appeared, was destined to receive the first blows 
 of the English. 
 
 Two feeble detachments guarded Governor's Island, and the 
 point of Paulus' Hook, situated in front of New York, upon the right 
 bank of the Hudson. The militia of the province, commanded by 
 the American general Clinton, were posted upon the banks of the 
 Sound, where they occupied the two Chesters, East and West, and 
 New Rochelle. For it was to be feared that the enemy, landing in 
 force upon the north shore of the Sound, might penetrate to Kings- 
 bridge, and thus entirely lock up all the American troops in the island 
 of New York. 
 
 All being prepared on the one side for attack, on the other for 
 defence, and the two parties appearing equally decided to refer the 
 destiny of America to the chance of battles, the English commis- 
 sioners, before coming to this appeal, wished to make trial of the 
 pacific powers with which they were invested. Already, in the 
 month of June, lord Howe, being upon the coasts of Massachusetts 
 in the Eagle ship of the line, had, in the name of the king, addressed 
 a letter to all the governors who had been expelled from their pro- 
 vinces, enjoining them to use all possible means to spread it among 
 the inhabitants. 
 
 He therein announced that the king had authorised two commis- 
 sioners to grant general or particular pardons to all those who, during 
 the troubles, had departed from the obedience due to the crown, but 
 who now desired to return to their duty, and participate in the bene- 
 fits of the royal clemency. He also declared that the commissioners 
 were empowered to proclaim any province or city whatsoever to be 
 in the king's peace, which immediately sheltered them from the effect 
 of the penal laws against rebellion. Finally, he promised large re- 
 compense to such as, by their services, should contribute to rees- 
 tablish the royal authority. These writings, commonly brought by 
 flags, circulated in the country ; and general Washington sent by 
 express to Congress a proclamation which had been addressed to the 
 city of Amboy. That assembly took the noble resolution of causing 
 
HOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 341 
 
 it to be printed in all the public papers, in order that the good people 
 of the United States, such were the words of the resolution, might be 
 informed of the powers of the commissioners, and of the means by 
 which Great Britain hoped to lull them into security and to disarm 
 them ; and also that the most obstinate might be convinced that they 
 could no longer expect the preservation of their privileges, but from 
 their arms alone. 
 
 In the meantime, a letter was brought from lord Howe, directed 
 simply to George Washington, Esq. The general refused to receive 
 it, alleging, that whoever had written it had not expressed his public 
 station, and that as a private individual he could not, and would not, 
 hold any communication, whether written or verbal, with the com- 
 manders of the king. His conduct in this instance was much ap- 
 plauded by the Congress-; and they decreed that in future none of 
 their officers should receive letters or messages, on the part of the 
 enemy, that were not addressed to them according to their respective 
 rank. 
 
 The English commissioners were unwilling that a mere point of 
 ceremonial should interrupt negotiations from which they expected 
 some advantage. They could not, on the other hand, consent to 
 acknowledge in the generalissimo of Congress a rank which had 
 been conferred, as they believed, by an unlawful authority. 
 
 They had recourse, therefore, to an expedient by which they 
 hoped to obviate all difficulty; they changed the address of their letter 
 for the superscription following ; to George Washington, fyc. fyc. 
 Adjutant-general Patterson was sent with this despatch. Being intro- 
 duced to Washington, he gave him in conversation the title of Excel- 
 lency. The general received him with great politeness, but at the 
 same time with much dignity. The adjutant expressed great concern, 
 in the behalf of his principals, on account of the difficulties that had 
 arisen about the superscription of the letter ; assured him of their 
 high regard for his personal character, and that they had no intention 
 to undervalue his rank. It was hoped, therefore, that the et ceterns, 
 being in use between ambassadors when they were not perfectly 
 agreed upon points of etiquette, would remove all obstructions to their 
 mutual intercourse. 
 
 Washington answered, that a letter written to a person invested 
 with a public character should specify it, otherwise it could not be 
 distinguished from a private letter ; that it was true the et ceteras 
 implied every thing ; but it was no less true that they implied any 
 thing ; and that, as to himself, he would never consent to receive 
 any letter, relating to public affairs, that should be directed to him, 
 without a designation of his rank and office. Patterson requested 
 that this question might be waved ; and turned the conversation upon 
 prisoners of war. He expatiated in magnificent terms upon the 
 goodness and clemency of the king, who had chosen for negotiators 
 
342 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 lord and general Howe. He affirmed that their desire to terminate 
 the differences which had arisen between the two people was as 
 earnest as their powers were ample ; and that he hoped the general 
 would consider this visit as the first step towards it. Washington 
 replied, that he was not authorised to negotiate ; but that it did not 
 appear that the powers of the commissioners consisted in any more 
 than in granting pardons ; that America, not having committed any 
 offence, asked for no forgiveness, and was only defending her 
 unquestionable rights. Patterson exclaimed that this subject would 
 open too vast a field of discussion ; and repeating his regrets that a 
 strict observation of formalities should interrupt the course of so 
 important an affair, he took leave of the general, and withdrew. 
 This conference thus remained without result, and all thoughts were 
 again concentrated in war. The Congress were perfectly aware, on 
 the one hand, of the shame they must incur by departing from the 
 resolution so recently taken of asserting independence, and they 
 feared on the other that the propositions of England might contain 
 some secret poison. They caused an exact relation to be printed of 
 the interview between the commander-in-chief and the English 
 adjutant-general. 
 
 The British generals seeing that the obstinacy of the Americans 
 left them no longer any hope of an accommodation, directed their 
 entire attention to the prosecution of the war, and resolved to strike 
 the first blows without longer delay. Wishing, in the first place, to 
 secure a post which might serve in case of need as a place of retreat, 
 and to furnish the means of subsistence for so powerful an army, 
 they decided to attack Long Island, in which they depended for 
 success upon the superiority of military talents which they believed 
 themselves to have, and which they really had, over the Americans. 
 Accordingly, having made all their dispositions, the twenty-second of 
 August, the fleet approached the west coast of the island near the 
 strait, called the Narrows, which separates it from Staten Island ; all 
 the troops found an easy and secure landing place between the 
 villages of Gravesend and New Utrecht, where they debarked without 
 meeting any resistance on the part of the Americans. 
 
 A great part of their army, under the command of general Putnam, 
 encamped at Brookland or Brooklyn, in a part of the island itself 
 which forms a sort of peninsula. He had strongly fortified the 
 entrance of it with moats and intrenchinents ; his left wing rested 
 upon the Wallabout bay, and his right was covered by a marsh con- 
 tiguous to another bay, called Gowan's Cove. Behind him he had 
 Governor's Island, and the arm of the sea which separates Long 
 Island from the island of New York, and which gave him a direct 
 communication with the city, where the other part of the army was 
 stationed under Washington himself. The commander-in-chief 
 perceiving that battle was approaching, continually exhorted his men 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 343 
 
 to keep their ranks, and summon all their courage ; he reminded them 
 that in their valor rested the only hope that remained to American 
 liberty ; that upon their resistance depended the preservation or the 
 pillage of their property by barbarians ; that they were about to 
 combat in defence of their parents, their wives, their children, from 
 the outrages* of a licentious soldiery ; that the eyes of America were 
 fixed upon her champions, and expected from their success on this 
 day either safety or total destruction. 
 
 The English having effected their landing, marched rapidly forward. 
 The two armies were separated by a chain of hills, covered with 
 woods, called the heights of Guan, and which, running from west to 
 east, divide the island into two parts. They are only practicable 
 upon three points ; one of which is near the Narrows, the road lead- 
 ing to that of the centre passes by a village named Flalbush, and the 
 third is approached, far to the right, by the route of another village 
 called Flatland. Upon the summit of the hills is found a road which 
 follows the length of the range, and leads from Bedford to Jamaica, 
 which is intersected by the two roads last 'described ; these ways 
 are all interrupted by precipices, and by excessively difficult and 
 narrow defiles. 
 
 The American general wishing to arrest the enemy upon these 
 heights, had carefully furnished them with troops, so that if all had 
 done their duty, the English would not have been able to force the 
 passages without extreme difficulty and danger. The posts were so 
 frequent upon the road from Bedford to Jamaica, that it was easy to 
 transmit, from one of these points to the other, the most prompt 
 intelligence of what passed upon the three routes. 
 
 Colonel Miles, with his battalion, was to guard the road of Flatland, 
 and to scour it continually with his scouts, as well as that of Jamaica, 
 in order to reconnoitre the movements of the enemy. Meanwhile, 
 the British army pressed forward, its left wing being to the north, 
 and its right to the south ; the village of Falmouth was found in its 
 centre. The Hessians, commanded by general Heister, formed the 
 main body ; the English, under major-general Grant, the left ; and 
 other corps, conducted by general Clinton, and the two lords, Percy 
 and Cornwallis, composed the right. In this wing the British 
 generals had placed their principal hope of success ; they directed 
 it upon Flatland. Their plan was, that while the corps of general 
 Grant, and the Hessians of general Heister, should disquiet the 
 enemy upon the two first defiles, the left wing, taking a circuit, should 
 march through Flatland, and endeavor to seize the point of intersec- 
 tion of this road with that of Jamaica ; and then rapidly descending 
 into the plain which extends at the foot of the heights, upon the 
 other side, should fall upon the Americans in flank and rear. The 
 English hoped, that as this post was the most distant from the centre 
 of the army, the advanced guards would be found more feeble there. 
 
344 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 and perhaps more negligent ; finally, they calculated that, in all 
 events, the Americans would not be able to defend it against a force 
 so superior. This right wing of the English was, in effect, the most 
 numerous, and entirely composed of select troops. 
 
 The evening of the twenty-sixth of August, general Clinton com- 
 manding the vanguard, which consisted in light infantry ; lord Percy 
 the centre, where were found the grenadiers, the artillery, and the 
 cavalry ; and Cornwallis the rear guard, followed by the baggage, 
 some regiments of infantry and of heavy artillery ; all this part of 
 the English army put itself in motion with admirable order and 
 silence, and leaving Flatland, traversed the country called New Lots. 
 Colonel Miles, who this night performed his service with little exact- 
 ness, did not perceive the approach of the enemy ; so that two hours 
 before day the English were already arrived within a half mile of the 
 road of Jamaica, upon the heights. Then general Clinton halted, 
 and prepared himself for the attack. He had met one of the enemy's 
 patrols and made him prisoner. 
 
 General Sullivan, who commanded all the troops in advance of the 
 camp of Brooklyn, had no advice of what passed in this quarter. 
 He neglected to send out fresh scouts ; perhaps he supposed the 
 English would direct their principal efforts against his right wing, as 
 being the nearest to them. 
 
 General Clinton learning from his prisoners that the road of Jamai- 
 ca was not guarded, hastened to avail himself of the circumstance, 
 and occupied it by a rapid movement. Without loss of time, he 
 immediately bore to his left towards Bedford, and seized an import- 
 ant defile which the American generals had left unguarded. From 
 this moment the success of the day was decided in favor of the 
 English. 
 
 Lord Percy came up with his corps ; and the entire column 
 descended by the village of Bedford from the heights into the plain 
 which lay between the hills and the camp of the Americans. During 
 this time general Grant, in order to amuse the enemy and divert his 
 attention from the events which took place upon the route of Flat- 
 land, endeavored to disquiet him upon his right ; accordingly, as if 
 he intended to force the defile which led to it, he had put himself in 
 motion about midnight, and had attacked the militia of New York 
 and of Pennsylvania who guarded it. They at first gave ground ; 
 but general Parsons being arrived, and having occupied an eminence, 
 he renewed the combat, and maintained his position till brigadier- 
 general lord Sterling came to his assistance with fifteen hundred men. 
 The action became extremely animated, and fortune favored neither 
 the one side nor the other. The Hessians, on their part, had 
 attacked the centre at break of day ; and the Americans, commanded 
 by general Sullivan in person, valiantly sustained their efforts. At 
 the same time the English ships, after having made several move- 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 345 
 
 ments, opened a very brisk cannonade against a battery established 
 in the little island of Red Hook, upon the right flank of the Ameri- 
 cans, who combated against genera! Grant. 
 
 This also was a diversion, the object of which was to prevent them 
 from attending to what passed in the centre and on the left. The 
 Americans defended themselves, however, with extreme gallantry, 
 ignorant that so much valor was exerted in vain, since victory was 
 already in the hands of the enemy. General Clinton being descended 
 into the plain, fell upon the left flank of the centre, which was 
 engaged with the Hessians. He had previously detached a strong 
 corps in order to intercept the Americans. 
 
 As soon as the appearance of the English light infantry apprised 
 them of their danger, they sounded the retreat, and retired in good 
 order towards their camp, bringing off their artillery. But they soon 
 fell in with the party of royal troops which had occupied the ground 
 on their rear, and who now charged them with fury ; they were 
 compelled to throw themselves into the neighboring woods, where 
 they met again with the Hessians, who repulsed them upon the 
 English, and thus the Americans were driven several limes by the 
 one against the other with great loss. 
 
 They continued for some time in this desperate situation, till at 
 length several regiments, animated by an heroic valor, opened their 
 way through the midst of the enemy, and gained the camp of general 
 Putnam ; others escaped through the woods. The inequality of the 
 ground, the great number of positions which it offered, and the 
 disorder which prevailed throughout the line, were the cause that 
 for several hours divers partial combats were maintained, in which 
 many of the Americans fell. 
 
 Their left wing and centre being discomfited, the English, desirous 
 of a complete victory, made a rapid movement against the rear of 
 the right wing, which, in ignorance of the misfortune which had 
 befallen the other corps, was engaged with general Grant. Finally, 
 having received the intelligence, they retired. But encountering the 
 English who cut off their retreat, a part of the soldiers took shelter 
 in the woods, others endeavored to make their way through the 
 marshes of Gowan's Cove ; but here many were drowned in the 
 waters, or perished in the mud ; a very small number only escaped 
 the hot pursuit of the victors, and reached the camp in safety. The 
 total loss of the Americans, in this battle, was estimated at more than 
 three thousand men in killed, wounded, and prisoners. Among the 
 last were found general Sullivan, and brigadier-generals lord Sterling 
 and Woodhull. Almost the entire regiment of Maryland, consisting 
 of young men of the best families in that province, was cut in pieces. 
 Six pieces of cannon fell into the power of the victors. The loss of 
 the English was very inconsiderable ; in killed, wounded, and prison- 
 ers, it did not amount to four hundred men. 
 VOL. i. 44 
 
 
346 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 The Americans, in this day, assuredly committed a great fault, 
 since they were forced to combat with a part of their forces against 
 all those of the enemy. They omitted to use the requisite diligence 
 to inform themselves of the quantity of troops disembarked ; they 
 neglected to cause the roads of the heights to be properly scoured 
 by their scouts, and especially those upon their left, which was the 
 menaced part ; finally, they had not sufficiently guarded the difficult 
 passes upon the road of Jamaica. There even arose some rumors 
 which threw suspicions of treachery upon those who were charged 
 with this guard ; but it is certain that they were culpable rather of* 
 negligence than of evil intentions. Colonel Miles enjoyed a reputa- 
 tion that placed him above suspicion. It appears, indeed, that 
 general Sullivan, either from too much confidence or too much 
 mildness, did not employ all the rigorous means which so important 
 a circumstance exacted, to prevent the secret intelligence of the 
 loyalists with the English ; these were, therefore, diligently informed 
 of the weakest places, and of the negligence with which the service 
 was performed. The English and the Hessians combated not only 
 with courage, but even with an impetuous ardor, excited by their 
 reciprocal emulation, and by the desire to efface the stains of former 
 defeats. 
 
 In the height of the engagement, general Washington had crossed 
 over to Brooklyn from New York, and seeing some of his best troops 
 slaughtered or taken, he uttered, it is said, an exclamation of 
 anguish. He could, if he saw fit, draw out of their encampment all 
 the troops, and send them to succour the corps that were engaged 
 with the enemy ; he might also call over all the forces he had in 
 New York, and order them to take part in the battle. But all 
 these reenforcements would by no means have sufficed to render his 
 army equal to that of the English. Victory having already declared 
 in their favor, the courage with which it inspired them, and the 
 superiority of their discipline, cut off all hope of being able to restore 
 the battle. If Washington had engaged all his troops in the action, 
 it is probable that the entire army would have been destroyed on 
 this fatal day, and America reduced to subjection. Great praise, 
 therefore, is due him for not having allowed himself, in so grave an 
 occurrence, to be transported into an inconsiderate resolution, and 
 for having preserved himself and his army for a happier future. 
 
 The English were so elated with victory, that eager to profit by 
 their advantages they would fain have immediately assaulted the 
 American camp. But their general manifested more prudence ; 
 whether he believed the intrenchments of the enemy stronger than 
 they really were, or whether he considered himself already sure of 
 entering New York without encountering new perils, he repressed 
 the ardor of his troops. Afterwards, having encamped in front of 
 the enemy's lines in the night of the twenty-eighth, he broke ground 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 347 
 
 within six hundred paces of a bastion upon the left. His intention 
 was to approach by means of trenches, and to wait till the fleet could 
 cooperate with* the land troops. 
 
 The situation of the Americans in their camp became extremely 
 critical. They had in front an enemy superior in number, and who 
 could attack them at every moment with a new advantage. Their 
 intrenchments were of little moment, and the English, pushing their 
 works with ardor, had every probability of success in their favor. 
 
 For two days and two nights the rain had fallen by torrents ; the 
 'arms and -ammunition suffered from it alike. The soldiers, over- 
 whelmed with fatigue and discouraged by defeat, would have made 
 but a feeble resistance. The English ships were in readiness, to 
 enter the East river. They had hitherto been prevented by a north- 
 east wind, which for them was as contrary as it was propitious for 
 the Americans. But it might change the next moment, and the 
 English once masters of this river, retreat was intercepted to the 
 soldiers of Congress, and the whole army would have incurred the 
 danger of being forced to surrender to the superior force of the 
 enemy. The council of war being assembled, the American generals 
 resolved to evacuate their position, and to withdraw into New York. 
 All the dispositions having been made, the retreat across the East 
 river was undertaken. Colonel Glover commanded the vessels and 
 flat boats of transport, general Macdougall was charged with the 
 embarkation, and colonel Mifflin was to cover the rear guard. The 
 twenty-ninth, at eight in the evening, the troops began to move with 
 the greatest silence. But they were not on board before eleven. A 
 violent northeast wind and the ebb tide, which rendered the current 
 very rapid, prevented the passage ; the time pressed however. For- 
 tunately, the wind suddenly veered to the northwest ; they imme- 
 diately made sail, and landed in New York. Providence appeared 
 to have watched over the Americans ; about two o'clock in the 
 morning, a thick fog, and at this season of the year extraordinary, 
 covered all Long Island, whereas the air was perfectly clear on the 
 side of New York. 
 
 Notwithstanding the entreaties of his officers, Washington remain- 
 ed the last upon the shore ; he refused to embark till he saw 
 his troops all on board. They amounted in all to nine thousand 
 men. 
 
 The artillery, baggage, camp equipage, munitions, every thing was 
 safely transported to the other side. It was not till the next morn- 
 ing, the sun being already high, and after the mist was dissipated, 
 that the English discovered, to their great surprise, that the Ame- 
 ricans had abandoned their camp, and were already sheltered fronl 
 all pursuit. They perceived only a part of the rear guard, out of 
 reach in their boats, who had returned to carry away some munitions 
 which had been left in the island. 
 
348 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Whoever will attend to all the details of this retreat, will easily 
 believe that no military operation was ever conducted by great 
 captains with more ability and prudence, or under more favorable 
 auspices. 
 
 It still remained to evacuate Governor's Island, situated at the 
 mouth of the East river ; it was occupied by two regiments, with a 
 numerous artillery and abundant munitions. The Americans had 
 fortified it to interdict the entrance of this river to the English. But 
 after the loss of Long Island, it could not be hoped to defend the 
 passage, and the garrison was in danger of falling into the power of 
 the enemy. The evacuation of Governor's Island was also effected 
 without accident, notwithstanding the vicinity of the English ships. 
 Thus all the American army, after the defeat of Long Island, found 
 itself united in the island of New York. 
 
 The check of Brooklyn had made upon the Americans a pro- 
 found impression of terror, and their position actually became very 
 alarming. 
 
 Until then, they had flattered themselves that heaven would con- 
 stantly favor their arms ; and it was, in truth, the first time that 
 fortune had betrayed them so cruelly. But not having been accus- 
 tomed to her rigors, from the excess of confidence which intoxicated 
 them in prosperity, they fell all at once into that of dejection. 
 
 They had persuaded themselves that personal valor completely 
 supplied the want of discipline ; and they had gone so far as even 
 to hold in derision the European system of tactics. But since they 
 had found, by fatal experience, of how much utility it was in regular 
 battles, tbeir eyes were opened, and they had lost all confidence in 
 themselves. At first they had believed that courage, without disci- 
 pline, could do all ; they now thought it could do nothing. At every 
 moment they were apprehensive of some new surprise ; at every step 
 of falling into an ambuscade. Thus, from discouragement, they 
 became still more negligent of order. The militia, especially, ac- 
 cording to the usage of multitudes armed in moments of emergency, 
 became every day more disorderly and intractable. Not content 
 with enjoying a liberty without bounds in the camp, they abandoned 
 their colors by hundreds, and entire regiments deserted to return to 
 their provinces. Their example became fatal to the regular troops 
 themselves ; their subordination diminished, and desertion enfeebled 
 them daily. Their engagement was but for one year, and even in 
 some corps only for a few weeks ; the hope of soon returning to 
 their families and friends so acted upon these soldiers that they 
 avoided dangers. Ardor and enthusiasm had at first overruled these 
 domestic affections ; but they now triumphed over a zeal extinguished 
 by ill fortune. 
 
 The fidelity of the generals was not suspected, but their talents 
 were distrusted, and every thing appeared to threaten a total dissolu- 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 349 
 
 tion. Confounded by the blows of fortune, and little used to support 
 them, the Americans thus gave themselves up for lost. Washington 
 contended earnestly with exhortations, with persuasions, and with 
 promises, to arrest the progress of the disorganisation. Wherein, if 
 he did not succeed according to his desires, he obtained, however, 
 more than his hopes. The greater part, yielding to his authority, 
 and the benevolence they bore him, consented to remain. He had 
 not neglected to address the Congress an energetic picture of the 
 deplorable situation of his army ; he represented to them how import- 
 ant it was to accept no more engagements, but for the total duration 
 of the war ; and he assured them that he must despair of American 
 liberty, unless he was furnished with an army that should stand by 
 him till the conclusion of the enterprise. The remonstrances and 
 instances of the commander-in-chief, were seconded by all the mili- 
 tary chiefs of distinction that were found at that time in America, 
 and the Congress at length yielded to their desires. They decreed 
 that a regular army should be formed, in which the soldiers should 
 be enlisted to serve during the present war ; and that it should be 
 composed of eighty-eight battalions, to be raised in all the provinces 
 according to their respective abilities.* To induce the inhabitants 
 to enlist, the Congress decreed, besides, that a bounty of twenty 
 dollars should be given to each man at the time of engagement, and 
 portions of unoccupied lands were promised to the officers and sol- 
 diers. f But from the difficulty of finding men who would enlist for 
 the whole term of the war, this resolution was afterwards modified, 
 so as to admit of engagements either for three years or during the 
 war ; specifying, however, that such as enlisted only for three years 
 had no right to grants of land. This measure was of great utility. 
 Here also is seen the power of good or ill fortune over nations. If 
 those who allow themselves to be over elated by prosperity, are 
 without courage in adversity, those who use the favors of fortune 
 with moderation, are able to support its reverses with fortitude. 
 
 General Howe, wishing to take advantage of the terror which 
 victory inspires, and persuading himself that the Americans, disheart- 
 ened by so many checks, would be more modest in their pretensions, 
 despatched general Sullivan to the Congress with a message purport- 
 ing, that though he could not consistently treat with that assembly in 
 the character they had assumed, yet he would gladly confer with 
 some of their members in their private capacity, and would meet them 
 
 * The eighty-eight battalions decreed by Congress, were to be furnished in the fol- 
 lowing proportion. Three in New Hampshire, fifteen in Massachusetts, two in 
 Rhode Island, eight in Connecticut, four in New York, four in New Jersey, twelve in 
 Pennsylvania, one in Delaware, eight in Maryland, fifteen in. Virginia, nine in North 
 Carolina, six in South Carolina, and one in Georgia. 
 
 t The grant of lands was thus regulated. Five hundred acres to a colonel, four 
 hundred to a major, three hundred to a captain, two hundred to a lieutenant, one 
 hundred and fifty to an ensign, and one hundred to noncommissioned officers and 
 soldiers. 
 
350 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 at any place they would appoint. He informed them that he was 
 empowered, with the admiral his brother, to terminate the contest 
 between Great Britain and America upon conditions equally advan- 
 tageous to both ; these conditions, he added, he had not been able 
 to obtain till after two months delay, which had prevented him from 
 arriving before the declaration of independence. He expressed an 
 earnest desire that an arrangement might take place before the 
 events of the war became so decisive as to render it no longer a 
 matter of choice for one of the parties to treat. He assured them, 
 that if they were inclined to enter into an agreement, much might be 
 granted to them which they had not required. He concluded by 
 saying, that should the conference produce the probability of an 
 accommodation, the authority of Congress would be acknowledged 
 in order to render the treaty valid and complete in every respect. 
 The commissioners hoped thus, by insidious words, to dispose the 
 Americans to resume the yoke of England without dread. 
 
 It would be difficult to decide whether these propositions announc- 
 ed, on the part of the English, more hope than despair of victory. 
 Perhaps the commissioners, not being authorised to grant all the 
 conditions they offered, merely threw them out to create parties, or 
 to amuse the Americans and to divert them from their preparations 
 of war. However this may be, the Congress deliberated maturely 
 upon this overture. Their refusal to listen to the proffered terms 
 might alienate the minds of many ; and tfreir consenting to enter 
 into negotiation was a tacit admission that the declaration of inde- 
 pendence was not irrevocable, or that ill fortune began to shake 
 their constancy. The Congress, to avoid either of these inconve- 
 niences, though persuaded of the insincerity of the commissioners, 
 decided for a middle course. They made answer, through general 
 Sullivan, that the Congress of the free and independent states of 
 America could not, consistently with the trust reposed in them, send 
 any of their members to confer with whomsoever, otherwise than in 
 their public capacity. But that as they desired that peace might be 
 concluded upon equitable conditions, they would depute a committee 
 of their .body to learn whether the commissioners were authorised 
 to treat, and what proposals they had to offer. Washington was 
 instructed, at the same time, to answer any overtures that might be 
 made him, by saying that the United States having taken arms to 
 defend their existence and their liberty, would willingly consent to 
 peace, provided the terms of it were reasonable, and drawn up first 
 in writing, in order to be laid before Congress. 
 
 Thus the Americans appeared to incline for independence, with- 
 out insisting, however, upon this point as an indispensable condition 
 of peace, in order to reserve a way open to reconciliation if the fate 
 of arms should prove too adverse. The deputies, appointed by 
 Congress to hear the propositions of the commissioners, were Benja- 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 351 
 
 min Franklin, John Adams, and Edward Rutledge, all three zealous 
 partisans of independence. Tbje interview took place the eleventh 
 of September, in Staten Island, opposite Amboy. Admiral Howe 
 spoke the first, saying, that though he could not treat with them as a 
 committee of Congress, yet as he was authorised to confer with nny 
 gentlemen of influence in the colonies, on the means of restoring 
 peace, he felt a real gratification in the present occasion to discourse 
 with them upon this important subject. 
 
 The deputies replied, that since they were come to hear him, he 
 was at liberty to look upon them in what light he pleased ; that they 
 could not, however, consider themselves in any other character than 
 that in which the Congress had placed them. Howe then entered 
 upon the subject of the meeting ; he demanded that the colonies 
 should return to their allegiance and duty towards the British 
 crown ; he assured them of the earnest desire of the king to make 
 his government easy and acceptable to them in every respect ; that 
 those acts of parliament which were so obnoxious to them would 
 undergo a revisal, and the instructions to governors would be recon- 
 sidered ; that if any just causes of complaint were found in the 
 acts or instructions, they might be removed. 
 
 After having recounted the tyrannical act,s of parliament, of which 
 all their supplications had failed to procure the repeal, the deputies 
 added, in reply, that a return to the domination of Great Britain was 
 not now to be expected. 'There was no doubt, they said, that the 
 Americans were inclined to peace, and willing to enter into any 
 treaty with Britain that might be advantageous to both countries. If 
 there was the same good disposition on her part, it would be easier 
 for the commissioners, though not empowered at present to treat 
 with them as independent states, to obtain fresh powers from their 
 government for that purpose, than it would be for the Congress to 
 procure them from the colonies to consent to submission.' 
 
 Howe then put an end to the conference, by saying that he deeply 
 regretted there was no longer any hope of an accommodation. 
 
 The three deputies made their report to Congress of the issue of 
 this interview, observing that the powers of the English commission- 
 ers were insufficient, and that it was impossible to place any depend- 
 ence upon their offers or their promises. The Congress approved 
 their conduct. This attempt at negotiation, therefore, served only 
 to demonstrate, on the one hand, that the Congress persevering in 
 their resolution and undaunted by reverses, were determined not to 
 receive conditions from their enemies ; and on the other, how greatly 
 the English government was still deceived with respect to the spirit 
 which prevailed in America, and as to the means proper to be em- 
 ployed for the reestablishment of the ancient order of things. 
 
 But it seems in this revolution to have been the destiny of things, 
 that the remedies should always arrive after the evils were become 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 incurable ; and that the government refusing out of pride at the 
 favorable moment, to acquiesce in useful concessions, should after- 
 wards have to submit to the rejection of its useless propositions. 
 
 The English generals, convinced by experience, that they must 
 renounce all hope of accommodation, now turned their attention 
 exclusively to military operations. The royal army found itself 
 separated from that of the Congress only by the East river, which 
 communicating with Harlem Creek flows between Long Island and 
 Morrisania on the one part, and the island of New York on the 
 other. The intention of the English was to land in some part of 
 this last, where the least resistance could be opposed to them. Their 
 ships cruised along the coasts, threatening sometimes one place and 
 sometimes another, in order to keep the enemy at all points in 
 uncertainty, and afterwards to attack upon one only with more ad- 
 vantage. A part of the fleet having doubled Long Island appeared 
 in the Sound, a gulf of great breadth which separates this island 
 from the coast of Connecticut, and communicates with the East 
 river, by means of a narrow channel, which a very dangerous naviga- 
 tion and frequent shipwrecks have caused to receive the name of 
 Hell Gate. 
 
 The English had taken possession of the island of JMontesoro, 
 situated in this strait, where they had erected a battery to answer 
 that which the Americans had planted upon the opposite side of the 
 river at Hovenshook. Two frigates, passing between Governor's 
 Island and the point of Red Hook, had ascended into the East river, 
 without receiving any injury from the artillery of the enemy, and had 
 anchored out of its reach near a little island. The main body of 
 the English fleet was moored in the waters of Governor's Island, 
 ready to attack the city of New York itself, or to enter either the 
 East river, or the Hudson. 
 
 Meanwhile, the ships were continually engaged with the batteries 
 on shore, and frequent actions ensued for the possession of the little 
 islands which are found in the first of these rivers. The English 
 had need of them for the execution of their projects, and the Ame- 
 ricans saw the necessity of defending them. But whether the 
 English artillery was better served, or that the soldiers of this nation 
 had acquired more confidence from their victory, and especially 
 owing to the assistance of their ships, they succeeded in carrying, 
 one after another, such of these islands, as their convenience ac- 
 quired, and thus secured for themselves the entrance of the East 
 river. 
 
 Washington had furnished the two shores of the island of New 
 York with a numerous artillery, and had thrown up intrenchments in 
 different places. He had four thousand five hundred men in the 
 city ; six thousand five hundred at Harlem, a village situated in front 
 of the opening of the sound ; and twelve thousand at Kingsbridge, at 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAIi. 353 
 
 the extremity of the island. He had been particularly careful to 
 fortify this passage, in order to secure a free communication with the 
 continent, and to prevent the enemy from seizing it by surprise, and 
 thus entirely locking up the American army within the island itself. 
 But the commander-in-chief felt extreme apprehensions for the city, 
 and began to despair of preserving it in the power of the confedera- 
 tion. The enemy being considerably reenforced in the northern 
 parts of Long Island, and having the command of the sound, it was 
 to be feared he might disembark in the centre of the island of New 
 York, near the mouth of the sound, in which case the garrison of the 
 city, and all the troops encamped in its environs, having their retreat 
 intercepted, would have been compelled to surrender; or else that, 
 traversing the sound and Morrisania, he would go and establish him- 
 self with the greater part of his army in the rear of Kingsbridge. 
 
 In this last hypothesis the Americans losing all communication with 
 the continent, would be forced either to capitulate, or to fight a battle 
 whose success appeared secure in advance to the English by the 
 choice of ground and of time, and the discouragement which still 
 prevailed among the troops of the Congress. 
 
 The fortune of the Americans would then be past all hope, as well 
 in consequence of the terror with which they would be seized, as 
 from the loss of arms, of munitions, and of baggage. Washington 
 had, therefore, signified to Congress his apprehensions, praying them 
 to inform him of their intentions relative to the city of New York, if 
 he found himself constrained to evacuate it. The Congress humanely 
 replied, that it should be left entire and safe. Having afterwards 
 assembled a council of war, he invited them to deliberate upon the 
 necessity of an immediate evacuation of the city, and it evidently 
 appeared that he was himself in favor of this measure. Some were 
 of the same opinion, for the reasons above mentioned, in which they 
 were confirmed by another consideration ; they calculated, that by 
 retiring further into the country, the English would be deprived of 
 the important advantage they derived from the cooperation of their 
 fleets. Other members of the council manifested a contrary senti- 
 ment, because they considered that the defence of New York would 
 cause the enemy to consume time, and that, in the meanwhile, the 
 season for military operations would have elapsed. They also thought 
 that the evacuation of New York would have too much the appearance 
 of cowardice, and that it might have the most fatal influence upon 
 the spirit of the soldiers and of the inhabitants ; the opinion of these 
 prevailed. But at length the English having reenforced themselves 
 greatly at the entrance of the sound, and in the islands of Montesoro 
 and of Buchanan, a second council of war decided that it was not 
 only prudent but even necessary to' abandon New York. Accord- 
 ingly, no time was lost in removing, by way of the Hudson river, the 
 sick, the baggage, and the munitions, which were landed far above, 
 VOL. i. 45 
 
354 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Vll. 
 
 upon the shore of New Jersey. Some days after, the garrison march- 
 ed out of the city, leaving it entirely in the power of the enemy. 
 
 While this evacuation was effected with great order on the part of 
 the troops, but with much terror on the part of the inhabitants, a 
 report was suddenly spread that the enemy had landed in the island. 
 The soldiers hastened to make their junction with those stationed at 
 Harlem. 
 
 While some of the English ships had entered the Hudson river, in 
 order to draw the attention of the American generals on that side, 
 and to interrupt the transportation of baggage and munitions, the first 
 division of the British army, commanded by general Clinton, had 
 embarked at the head of the bay at Newtown, and proceeding by the 
 sound, entered the East river through Hell Gate ; thence descending 
 with the current, it had gone to disembark at Kipps Bay, three miles 
 north of New York. This point was the weakest of all ; and the 
 English troops, protected by the fire of the ships, effected a landing 
 there almost without resistance. When Washington was apprised of 
 the debarkation, he detached the brigades of generals Parsons and 
 Fellows to reenforce the corps that defended Kipps Bay. But they 
 had already turned their backs ; the others imitated them and shame- 
 fully fled, in defiance of the efforts of their officers to retain them. 
 Washington arrived himself, and rallied them ; but at sight of the 
 English troops these militia disbanded anew. If the English had 
 immediately pressed forward they would, without any doubt, have 
 intercepted the retreat of the garrison of New York. But whether 
 their generals could not credit so much pusillanimity on the part of 
 the Americans, and were unwilling to risk themselves between two 
 fires ; or whether, as some writers assert, being elated with their suc- 
 cess, they halted for the space of full two hours to divert themselves 
 in the house of a gentlewoman of the country, it is certain that they 
 gave time to general Putnam, who commanded the garrison, to defile 
 and to rejoin the rest of the army. The Americans, however, left 
 in the power of the enemy their heavy artillery, a great proportion of 
 their baggage and munitions, and particularly their tents, of which 
 they had the greatest need. They lost but few soldiers, and those 
 in a skirmish near Bloomingdale. 
 
 The British army having despatched a strong detachment to take 
 possession of the city of New York, which affords accommodation 
 for a considerable garrison, went to encamp in the centre of the island, 
 its right wing being posted at Horen's Hook, upon the East river, and 
 its left at Bloomingdale, upon the Hudson. It thus occupied the 
 entire breadth of the island, from one shore to the other, which in 
 this place is more than a mile. The Americans were strongly in- 
 trenched in the northern part of the island, and especially at Kings- 
 bridge ; they had, besides, a position upon the heights of Harlem, 
 distant only a mile and a half from the English outposts. They 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 355 
 
 occupied another difficult passage between Harlem and Kingsbridge, 
 as well as the fort they had named Washington, upon the left bank 
 of the Hudson. 
 
 There resulted, from the respective situation of the armies, fre- 
 quent rencounters, in which the Americans gradually resumed cou- 
 rage, and accustomed themselves anew to look the enemy in the 
 face. Washington ardently desired that his troops should often have 
 these affairs with the English. Among others, there ensued one very 
 hot action in the plain of Harlem, where some corps of English and 
 Hessians, led on too far by their ardor, fell into an ambuscade which 
 the Americans had laid for them, and were handled very roughly. 
 Washington in his official letters, highly commended the valor dis- 
 played by his troops on this occasion. 
 
 A few days after the important position of New York was come 
 into the power of the royal troops, there broke out in it a conflagra- 
 tion, which some attributed to the malice of certain individuals among 
 the inhabitants themselves, to deprive the English of the resources 
 offered them by this great city ; others merely to chance. It was 
 published at the time, that the fire had been kindled in various places 
 at once, by means of combustibles disposed with great dexterity ; but 
 the Americans positively denied it. Such was the rapidity of the 
 flames, the wind being violent and the weather very dry, that not- 
 withstanding the speed and activity with which the garrison exerted 
 themselves, a fourth part of the city was consumed. In the fury 
 which transported them, they seized several of those whom they 
 considered as the authors of this disaster, and precipitated them into 
 the midst of the fire. 
 
 The English general, perceiving that the strength of the enemy's 
 intrenchments was such as to render the attempt to dislodge him by 
 an attack, both extremely hazardous and of doubtful success, took 
 the resolution which, perhaps, he should have taken at first, that is, 
 to go and encamp behind the position which the Americans occupied 
 at Kingsbridge, and thus compel him to combat with disadvantage, 
 to retire with loss, or to remain with peril. Accordingly, having left 
 lord Percy with two English brigades, and one of Hessians in the 
 encampment of Harlem, for the protection of New York, he em- 
 barked with the rest of the army in flat bottomed boats; and having 
 safely entered the sound through Hell Gate, proceeded to disembark 
 at Frogs Neck, in the vicinity of West Chester, upon the confines of 
 New York and Connecticut. 
 
 This movement of general Howe has been the object of some cri- 
 ticisms ; it was pretended that the Americans might have overwhelm- 
 ed, by a sudden attack, the corps left at Harlem, and thus recovered 
 possession of New York. But, perhaps, he founded the success of 
 his operation upon the discouragement of the colonial troops, and 
 upon the presence of the fleet, which in any event could afford n 
 
356 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII, 
 
 shelter to the corps of Harlem, if they should find themselves too 
 hard pressed. General Howe had also strongly fortified Gowans 
 Hill, in order to cover the city. Then, with a view to prevent the 
 enemy from receiving provisions from New Jersey by means of the 
 Hudson river, he had ordered three frigates to pass up the river 
 above forts Washington and Lee ; the first situated upon the left 
 bank, and the second upon the right. This order was executed 
 with extreme ability, notwithstanding the artillery of the two forts, 
 and the obstructions with which the Americans had endeavored to 
 impede the navigation. 
 
 The English general remained several days at Frogs Neck, as well 
 to repair the bridges which the enemy had broken, as to wait for a 
 considerable reenforcement which he had called from Staten Island. 
 The road from Frogs Neck to Kingsbridge is excessively rough with 
 continual masses of small stones, and the Americans had also ob- 
 structed it in many places. Washington, who had assembled all his 
 army at Kingsbridge, sent forward his light infantry to scour the 
 country, and to harass the enemy in his march. 
 
 General Howe, having received his reenforcements, put himself in 
 motion with all his troops ; he crossed Pelliam Manor, and went to 
 encamp at New Rochelle, where he was joined bythe second divi- 
 sion of Hessians, and of the troops of Waldeck under general Knyp- 
 hauseir, and by a regiment of cavalry lately arrived at New York 
 from Ireland. As the principal project of the expedition was to 
 intercept the communication of Washington with the eastern pro- 
 vinces, and then, if he declined to venture an engagement, to shut 
 him up in the island of New York, consequently it was necessary to 
 occupy the two roads leading into Connecticut ; the one upon the 
 coast of the sound, and the other more inland. The first was 
 already in the power of the English ; but in attempting to occupy 
 the second, it was requisite to traverse the difficult country of which 
 we have already made mention, in order to secure the post of the 
 highlands, known by the name of White Plains, upon the rear of 
 Kingsbridge. General Howe determined to take this route ; he 
 marched, however, slowly and with extreme caution, after leaving at 
 New Rochelle the German corps, lately arrived, to secure the lower 
 road, and the communication with those places whence stores and 
 necessaries were to arrive. 
 
 Washington examined, with attention, the danger of his position. 
 He penetrated the designs of the enemy, and consequently decided 
 to abandon, with the main body of his army, the encampment of 
 Kingsbridge. Extending, therefore, his left wing, he took post with 
 it in the White Plains, while the right occupied the heights of Valen- 
 tine's Hill, near Kingsbridge ; the centre exactly filled the space 
 comprehended between these two points. Here he intrenched him- 
 self with the greatest care. His army thus formed a well secured 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 357 
 
 line, parallel to the river Brunx, which lay on its front, and separated 
 it tVom the English, who marched up along the left bank of this 
 stream. 
 
 Washington had behind -him the great river Hudson, into which 
 the English frigates had net ; yet been able to penetrate so far as to 
 intercept the supplies of provisions which he received from the 
 upper parts. With his left wing he occupied the upper road of 
 Connecticut, by which he was also abundantly supplied with provi- 
 sions and munitions. He had left sufficient garrisons at Kingsbridge, 
 at Harlem, and in -fort Washington; in this last place, however, 
 against his own opinion. Meanwhile, he detached numerous parties, 
 over the Brunx, in order to retard the motions of the enemy. 
 Hence frequent- skirmishes ensued, and though the royalists had 
 generally the advantage in these rencounters, they still served to 
 dissipate the terror of the Americans, who every day showed them- 
 selves more bold in defying the enemy. 
 
 Upon the approach of the English to the White Plains, Washing- 
 ton, all at once, called in his detachments, and abandoning the posi- 
 tions he had occupied akrng the Brunx, assembled all his troops in a 
 strong camp upon the heights, near these plains, in front of the 
 enemy. His right flank was protected by the Brunx, which, by its 
 windings, also covered the front of the right wing. The main body 
 was nearly parallel to the river, and the left wing being placed at a 
 right angle upon the centre, and consequently parallel to the right, 
 extended towards the north upon the hilis, as much as was necessary 
 to guard the defiles leading to the upper mountainous regions, into 
 which the army, if expedient, might retire. But the right wing, 
 being posted in more level and less difficult ground, found itself more 
 exposed ; wherefore general Macdougall was ordered to occupy, 
 with a strong detachment, a mountain about a mile distant from 
 the camp ; he intrenched himself there as well as the time would 
 admit of. 
 
 Such was the position of the American army when the English 
 arrived within seven or eight miles of White Plains, and prepared 
 themselves to attack without loss of time. On the morning of the 
 twenty-eighth of October, they advanced in two columns, the right 
 commanded by general Clinton, and the left by general Heister. 
 At noon, all the outposts being driven back by the English and 
 Hessian light infantry, the British army appeared before the Ame- 
 rican carnp. Immediately there ensued a cannonade, but to very 
 little effect. The English drew up in order of battle ; their right 
 occupied the road which leads to Merrineck, about a mile distant 
 from the centre of the enemy ; while the left, equally distant from 
 his right, bordered the Brunx. The English general having observ- 
 ed the importance of the position taken by general Macdougall, and 
 being persuaded that the right of the enemy, which was his only 
 
358 TE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 assailable point, could not be forced so long as it should be protected 
 by a post of such strength, resolved to wrest it from the Americans. 
 He ordered a Hessian regiment, commanded by colonel Ralle, to 
 ford the Brunx, and by a circuitous movement to fall upon the flank 
 of general Macdougall, while general Leslie should attack him in 
 front with a brigade of English and Hessians. Colonel Ralle having 
 arrived at the point indicated, Leslie, who had also crossed the 
 Brunx, furiously assaulted the intrenchments of Macdougall. The 
 militia soon fled, but the regular troops made a valiant resistance. 
 A regiment of Maryland, conducted by colonel Smallwood, and a 
 regiment of New York, under colonel Ratzemar, ventured even to 
 come out of the lines and to charge the enemy at the very foot of 
 the mountain, but they were overpowered by number and forced to 
 retire. Then the English and Hessians ascended the heights with 
 singular intrepidity, and took possession of them after a vigorous 
 struggle. The Americans, however, continued for some time to fire 
 from behind the walls of enclosures, and thus retarded the progress 
 of the assailants. But general Putnam, who had been sent to their 
 succour, could hot arrive in season. The loss of men in this action 
 was great on the one part as well as on the other. 
 
 Washington, calmly expecting that the enemy would come to 
 attack him next, had already sent into his rear the sick and the 
 baggage ; but as it grew towards the close of day, the English 
 general determined to defer the assault till the next morning. He 
 caused his troops to encamp within cannon shot of the American 
 lines. Washington took advantage of the night to strengthen them 
 with additional works, and to occupy a stronger position in the rear 
 with his left wing, which, by the loss of the mountain, had become 
 more exposed. When the light appeared, general Howe reconnoitred 
 the intrenchments of the enemy, and found them sufficiently for- 
 midable to determine him to wait the arrival of some battalions that 
 had been left at New York, under the command of lord Percy, and 
 of several companies from Merrineck. These reenfofcements being 
 received on the evening of the thirtieth, he appointed the following 
 morning for the assault, but the excessive rain which fell during the 
 night and also in the morning, compelled him to defer it. The 
 American general, in the meantime, examined his position with his 
 accustomed prudence ; he was decided not to risk a pitched battle 
 without the strongest hope of success. He perceived that the 
 English had already erected four or five batteries, and that by turn- 
 ing his right flank they might get possession of the heights situated 
 upon his rear. He concluded, therefore, to break up his camp in 
 the night of the first of November. He removed it into a country 
 still more mountainous in the vicinity of North Castle ; having pre- 
 viously set fire to the houses in White Plains and the neighborhood, 
 and to the forage that was found in the camp. He immediately 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 359 
 
 detached a strong corps to occupy the bridge over the Croton river, 
 Which leads to the upper parts of the Hudson. On the following 
 morning the English took possession of the American camp. 
 
 General Howe, perceiving that his enemy declined an engage- 
 ment, and that from the situation of the country, and his knowledge 
 of every advantageous position, it would be impossible to compel 
 him to fight but upon the most unequal and hazardous terms, took 
 the determination to discontinue the pursuit, and to turn his attention 
 to the reduction of the forts and fastnesses still occupied by the 
 Americans in the neighborhood of New York. His views were 
 particularly directed upon fort Washington, which was its principal 
 bulwark. But, though the ground where this fortress had been 
 erected was very rough and difficult, its fortifications were not 
 sufficiently strong to resist heavy artillery. It was incapable, from 
 its little extent, of containing more than a thousand defenders ; the 
 outworks that surrounded it, especially to the south, towards New 
 York, might lodge, it is true, a much stronger garrison. 
 
 The comrnander-in-chief, as if he had foreseen the event, had 
 written to general Greene, who commanded in this part, enjoining 
 him to reflect maturely upon his position, and in case he should find 
 that fort Washington was not in a situation to sustain an assault, to 
 cause it to be forthwith evacuated ; and to transport the garrison to 
 the right bank of the Hudson. But this general, either believing 
 that the strength of the place and the valor of the troops would 
 assure him a long defence, or from the apprehension that his retreat 
 would increase the already too general discouragement of the Ameri- 
 cans, took the resolution to hold out to the last. He was herein the 
 more easily determined, as he believed that the garrison would 
 always be able to retreat into fort Lee, situated upon the other bank 
 of the river. But Washington judged less favorably of the future ; 
 he was persuaded that the English would not remain satisfied with 
 the reduction of the first fort ; but that crossing the river, and mak- 
 ing themselves 1 masters of the second, which was not tenable, they 
 would spread themselves in the province of New Jersey. He left 
 therefore general Lee, with the militia of the eastern provinces, upon 
 the left bank of the Hudson, and having secured the strong positions 
 towards the Croton river, and especially that of Peeks Kill, near the 
 Hudson itself, he crossed that river with the main body of his army, 
 and went to rejoin general Greene in his camp under fort Lee. 
 General Lee himself had orders to come with all speed and join 
 him, in case the enemy, after having taken the forts, should show 
 himself upon the right bank of the Hudson. He afterwards wrote 
 to the governor of New Jersey, requesting him to remove the maga- 
 zines of provisions into the most remote parts, and to call out all the 
 militia. AH these dispositions being made to his wish, Washington 
 watched with an attentive eye the movements of the enemy. 
 
360 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Meanwhile, general Howe had ordered general Knyphausen to 
 march from New Rochelle, and to occupy Kirigsbridge. This he 
 executed without obstacles, the Americans, who guarded this posi- 
 tion, having fallen back upon fort Washington. The corps of general 
 Knyphausen consequently penetrated into the island of New York, 
 and proceeded to invest the fort, on the part of the north. 
 
 A short time after, the English general himself abandoned the 
 White Plains, and descending along the banks of the Hudson, con- 
 ducted the rest of the army to Kingsbridge. He pitched his camp 
 upon the heights of Fordham, his right wing being covered by the 
 Hudson, and his left by the Bronx. 
 
 The royalists then prepared to attack fort Washington ; its interior 
 and appertenances were defended by full three thousand men, under 
 the command of colonel Magaw, a brave and experienced officer. 
 He was summoned in vain to surrender. The besiegers proceeded 
 to the assault in four divisions, the first from the north, commanded 
 by general Knyphausen, and consisting of Hessians and the troops 
 of Waldeck ; the second from the east, composed of^English light 
 infantry and two battalions of guards, conducted by 'general Mat- 
 thews. This corps was to attack the intrenchments which extended 
 from fort Washington almost to the East river; the third, commanded 
 by colonel Sterling, was destined to pass this river lower down than 
 the second, in order to assail the fort more to the south ; but this was 
 only a feint. The fourth, which obeyed the orders of lord Percy, 
 a very strong corps, was directed to aim its assault against the 
 western flank of the fortress. These different divisions were pro- 
 vided with a numerous and excellent artillery. The Hessians, 
 under general Knyphausen, were to pass through a very thick 
 forest, where colonel Rawlings was already posted with his regiment 
 of riflemen. An extremely warm affair was engaged, in which the 
 Germans sustained a severe loss. The Americans ambushed behind 
 the trees and rocks, fired in security ; but at last, the Hessians re- 
 doubling their efforts, gained a very steep ascent, whence they came 
 down upon the enemy with an irresistible impetuosity ; the divisions 
 which followed them were thus enabled to land without molestation. 
 Colonel Rawlings retreated under the cannon of the fort. Lord 
 Percy, on his part, had carried an advanced work, which facilitated 
 the debarkation of the party under colonel Sterling, who, the moment 
 he had landed, forced his way up a difficult height, which was very 
 resolutely defended ; he gained the summit, where he took a consi- 
 derable number of prisoners, notwithstanding their gallant resistance. 
 Colonel Cadwallader, who was charged with the defence of this 
 part, retired also into the fort. 
 
 Colonel Ralle, who led the right column of general Knyphausen's 
 attack, surmounted all obstacles with admirable valor, and lodged his 
 column within one hundred yards of the fort. Soon after general 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 361 
 
 Knyphausen joined him with the left column ; having at length extri- 
 cated himself from the difficulties encountered in the forest. The 
 garrison having thus lost, though not without glory, all their advanced 
 works, found themselves closely invested within the hody of the 
 fortress. The besiegers then summoned colonel Magaw to surren- 
 der. He had already consumed nearly all his ammunition. The 
 very multitude of defenders pressed into so narrow a space, was 
 prejudicial to defence, and every thing demonstrated that he could 
 not sustain an assault. Accordingly he decided to capitulate. The 
 garrison, amounting to two thousand six hundred men, inclusive of 
 the country militia, surrendered prisoners of war. The Americans 
 had few killed ; the royalists lost about eight hundred, the greater 
 part Germans. 
 
 The reduction of fort Washington thus gave the royal army entire 
 possession of the island of New York. 
 
 Wishing to avail himself to the utmost of the defeat of the Ame- 
 ricans, and to prevent them from rallying at another point, general 
 Howe confided to lord Cornwallis the command of a corps of about 
 six thousand men, directing him to pass the Hudson at Dobb's Ferry, 
 and forthwith to invest fort Lee, in order, if possible, to surprise the 
 garrison, which consisted in two thousand men. They had scarcely 
 time to save themselves by abandoning the place, the moment they 
 heard of the surrender of fort Washington, of the passage of the 
 enemy, and of his force. Their artillery and military stores, their 
 baggage, and particularly their tents, a loss the most sensible, fell into 
 the power of the victors. The vanquished retired to the other side 
 of the Hackensack. The British could now penetrate into the very 
 heart of New Jersey. 
 
 These successive checks, the loss of the two forts, Washington 
 and Lee, and especially the excessive vigor of the attack, which had 
 constrained the first to surrender, produced a deplorable change in 
 the fortune of the Americans. They beheld all at once what the 
 fatal battle of Brooklyn had not been able to operate ; the dissolution 
 of their army. 
 
 The militia disbanded and precipitately retired to their habitations ; 
 even the regular troops, as if struck with despair, also filed off, and 
 deserted in parties. 
 
 Every thing at this period of the war, threatened America with an 
 inevitable catastrophe. 
 
 The army of Washington was so enfeebled thnt it scarcely 
 amounted to three thousand man, who had lost all courage and 
 all energy, and were exposed in an open country, without instru- 
 ments to intrench themselves, without tents to shelter them from the 
 inclemency of the season, and in the midst of a population little 
 zealous, or rather hostile towards the republic. 
 VOL. i. 46 
 
362 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 The genera] of Congress had 10 face a victorious army, more than 
 twenty thousand strong, composed entirely of disciplined and veteran 
 troops. The excellent generals who commanded it, using the ardor 
 inspired by victory, pursued their advantages with vivacity, and flat- 
 tered themselves that a few days would suffice to crush the wrecks 
 of the republican army, and put an end to the war. To all the 
 difficulties against which Washington had to contend, should be 
 added, that the English cavalry, though without being very numerous, 
 scoured all the flat country, whereas he had nothing to oppose to 
 it except a few diminutive and feeble hackneys from Connecticut, 
 commanded by major Shelden. So total a deficiency of cavalry, in 
 the immense plains of this country, appeared to extinguish for the 
 Americans their little chance of success. They were no better pro- 
 vided with artillery than with horses. The greater part of their 
 feeble army consisted in militia, almost all from New Jersey. These 
 were either of suspicious fidelity, or desirous of returning to their 
 habitations, to rescue their property and families from the perils that 
 menaced them. The few regular soldiers who still remained with 
 their colors, completed their term of service with the expiration of 
 the year ; it was therefore to be feared that this phantom of an army 
 would vanish entirely in the space of a few days. 
 
 In so profound a distress, the American general could not hope to 
 receive prompt or sufficient reenforcements. Consternation reigned 
 in all the contiguous provinces ; so that each, trembling for himself, 
 refused to succour others. There still remained a few regiments of 
 regular troops upon the frontiers of Canada ; but they were neces- 
 sary there to arrest the progress of the enemy ; and, besides, the 
 term of engagement was about to dissolve them shortly. Upon the 
 heel of so many disasters was the imminent danger of seditions on 
 the part of the disaffected, who in various places loudly invoked the 
 name of England. An insurrection appeared ready to explode in 
 the county of Monmouth, in this very province of New Jersey, so 
 that Washington found himself constrained to detach a part of his 
 army, already a mere skeleton, to overawe the agitators. The pre- 
 sence of a victorious royal army had dissipated the terror with which 
 the patriots at first had inspired the loyalists. They began to aban- 
 don themselves without reserve to all the fury which animated them 
 against their adversaries. The English commissioners determined 
 to avail themselves of this disposition of the inhabitants to revolt 
 against the authority of Congress. Accordingly the two brothers 
 Howe drew up a proclamation, which they circulated profusely 
 throughout the country. They commanded all those who had arms 
 in hand to disperse and return to their habitations; and all those who 
 exercised civil magistracies to cease their functions and divest them- 
 selves of their usurped authority. But, at the same time, they 
 offered a full pardon to all such as within the space of sixty days 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 363 
 
 should present themselves before the civil or military officers of the 
 crown, declaring their intention to take the benefit of the amnesty, 
 and promising a sincere return to the obedience due to the laws and 
 to the royal authority. This proclamation had the effect which the 
 commissioners had promised themselves from it. A multitude of 
 persons of every rank, availing themselves of the clemency of the 
 victor, came daily to implore his forgiveness, and to protest their 
 submission. 
 
 It was remarked, however, that they belonged for the greater part 
 to the class of the very poor, or of the very rich. The inhabitants 
 of a middle condition manifested more constancy in their opinions. 
 Several of the newly reconciled had occupied the firsi stations in the 
 popular order of things ; they had been members either of the pro- 
 vincial government, or of the council of general snfety, or of the 
 tribunals of justice. They excused themselves by saying that they 
 had only acted, in what they had hitherto done, with a view to promote 
 the public welfare, and to prevent greater disorders ; they alleged, 
 finally, that they had been drawn in by their parents and friends, 
 whom they were unable to refuse. Those who had contemplated 
 them in all their arrogance, and who saw them then so meek, so 
 submissive, and so humble in their words, could scarcely persuade 
 themselves that they were indeed the same individuals. But men of 
 this stamp dread much less to be considered inconstant and perfidious, 
 than rebels to the laws of the strongest ; they much prefer to escape 
 danger with infamy, than to encounter it with honor. Nor was it 
 only in New Jersey, and in the midst of the victorious royal troops, 
 that these abrupt changes of party were observed ; the inhabitants 
 of Pennsylvania flocked in like manner to humble themselves at the 
 feet of the English commissioners, and to promise them fealty and 
 obedience. Among others there came the Galloways, the family of 
 the Aliens, and some others of the most wealthy and reputable. 
 The example became pernicious, and the most prejudicial effects 
 were to be apprehended from it. Every day ushered in some new 
 calamity ; the cause of America seemed hastening to irretrievable 
 ruin. The most discreet no longer dissembled that the term of the 
 war was at hand ; and that the hour was come in which the colonies 
 were about to resume the yoke.* But Washington, in the midst of 
 so much adversity, did not despair of the public safety. His 
 constancy was an object of admiration. Far from betraying any 
 symptoms of hesitation or of fear, he showed himself to his dejected 
 soldiers with a serene countenance, and radiant, as it were, with a 
 certain hope of a better future. Adverse fortune had not been able 
 to vanquish, nay, not even to shake this invincible spirit. Firmly 
 resolved to pursue their object through every fortune, the Congress 
 manifested a similar constancy. It appeared as if the spirit of these 
 great minds increased with adversity. 
 
364 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 America is assuredly indebted to the magnanimity of her chiefs 
 for the victory and independence which have crowned her efforts. 
 
 Thus pressed by time and circumstances, Washington took all the 
 measures suggested by prudence in order to reenforce his army, not 
 with the hope of being able to arrest the enemy in his triumphant 
 march, but at least that he might not appear to have entirely aban- 
 doned the republic ; and finally, to keep his standard waving till 
 Divine Providence, or the benignity of fortune, should offer him an 
 occasion to retrieve the affairs of his country. 
 
 He had some time before, as we have already related, directed 
 general Lee to occupy, with a part of the army, the country watered 
 by the Upper Hudson, in order to be at hand to succour the corps of 
 Canada which opposed general Carleton upon the lakes. But on 
 seeing New Jersey unguarded, and the danger which instantly 
 menaced the city of Philadelphia itself, he ordered him to come, by 
 forced marches, to rejoin him. This order was the more easy to be 
 executed, as it was soon known. that general Carleton, after having 
 occupied Crown Point and made himself master of Lake Charnplain, 
 as will be seen in the course of this history, had retired without 
 having ventured to attack Ticonderoga. The cornmander-inrchief, 
 therefore, instructed general Schuyler to send him, without delay, 
 the troops of Pennsylvania and of New Jersey, that were upon the 
 frontiers of Canada. General Mercer, who commanded a corps of 
 light infantry at Berghen, likewise received orders to rejoin the prin- 
 cipal army with all speed. Little calculation, however, could be 
 made upon these reenforcements in the present state of things ; the 
 march was long, the road difficult, the engagement of the soldiers 
 almost expired, and the victorious enemy menaced upon all points 
 at once. The American general neglected not to resort to the 
 succours of the militia. He had represented to the principal authori- 
 ties of Pennsylvania the critical situation of Philadelphia, which 
 could not be saved unless his army was promptly reenforced ; he 
 therefore earnestly pressed them to send him the militia of the 
 province. Washington finding his letters nearly without effect, 
 despatched general Mifflin, who enjoyed great popular favor in this 
 province, to paint, with vivid coloring, the urgency of the danger, 
 and the necessity of a general effort to avert it. He wrote also to 
 the governor of New Jersey, apprising him that unless he assembled 
 the militia and caused them to join the army immediately, he must 
 expect to see the enemy overrun the entire province as a conqueror, 
 pass the Delaware and seize Philadelphia. 
 
 All his efforts were equally ineffectual in this part. The lower 
 districts of the province, either wanting zeal or chilled with terror, 
 made no movement ; and it was not without a sort of repugnance 
 that the inhabitants of the upper countries took arms for the defence 
 of country. 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 365 
 
 Reduced to the uncertain hope of these feeble reenforcernents, 
 the Americans saw their enemies redoubling activity to render their 
 triumph more complete. The army of Congress, after its retreat, 
 had the Hackensack upon its front ; but this narrow stream could 
 not be considered as a sufficient defence against the keen pursuit of 
 the English. Besides, as the Passaick flowed at no great distance 
 in the rear of Washington, and the light troops of the enemy inundat- 
 ed the country, he ran the risk of being; locked in between these 
 two rivers. He therefore crossed the Passaick over the bridge of 
 Aquakannunk, and took up his quarters at Newark, upon the right 
 bank. The English immediately also passed the Hackensack, and 
 overran the country up to the Passaick. Washington seeing lord 
 Cornwallis approach with rapidity, abandoned the borders of this 
 river, and retiring behind the Rariton took post at New Brunswick. 
 Here the troops of Maryland and of New Jersey declared their 
 term of engagement was expired, and deserting the rest of the army, 
 retired to their respective homes. Some corps of the Pennsylvania 
 militia followed this example ; and the army, already so feeble, 
 found itself upon the point of ceasing to exist. The English showed 
 themselves every where, and always equally animated. 
 
 Washington, with the few regiments he had left, ventured to make 
 some demonstrations as if he intended to resume the offensive ; but 
 this manoeuvre was, in fact, designed to cover his retreat to Trenton, 
 upon the left bank of the Delaware. Lord Sterling was left at 
 Princeton, with twelve hundred men, to observe the motions of the 
 enemy. Having little hope of being able to maintain even this posi- 
 tion long, he sent across the river the sick, the baggage, and the 
 munitions, and caused all the boats to be withdrawn to the opposite 
 bank, that the English might not use them to effect their passage. 
 He determined, however, to remain upon the frontiers of New 
 Jersey, in order to be always at hand to retard the progress of the 
 enemy. At length having received a reenforcement of two thousand 
 men, composed of the armed citizens of Philadelphia, and of the 
 German battalion already mentioned, he pressed forward with the 
 intention of returning to Princeton. But upon the rumor, continually 
 increasing:, that lord Cornwallis was on his march from New Bruns- 
 wick with a formidable force, divided in several columns so as to 
 endanger his communications with the river, he retreated anew, and 
 the eighth of December, leaving the frontiers of New Jersey entirely 
 in the power of the enemy, he withdrew upon the right bank of the 
 Delaware, having first, however, cut the bridges, broken the roads, 
 and removed all the ferry boats. Scarcely Had the rear guard gained 
 the right bank, when the English light troops began to appear upon 
 the left ; but finding no means to cross the river, they could pursue 
 no further. 
 
360 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 The river Delaware was now the last defence that remained to 
 he American troops ; if the English could pass it, they infallibly 
 oecame masters of Philadelphia. And the acquisition of a city of 
 such importance, which was at once the capital of the confederation, 
 the seat of government, as well as of the principal authorities, and 
 the central repository of military stores and provisions, must have 
 produced such an effect upon the minds of the people, as perhnps 
 would have given the English a complete triumph, or at least would 
 have authorised them to expect a prompt termination of the war in 
 their favor. 
 
 But lord Cornwallis, following the orders of general Howe, who 
 did not proceed in this operation with the requisite ardor, had re- 
 mained too long at New Brunswick ; he thus left Washington at 
 liberty to interpose every obstacle to the passage of the river. It is 
 impossible here not to blame the negligence of the English generals, 
 who had not seasonably collected all the materials lor laying bridges, 
 and who even never thought of constructing rafts in order to gain 
 the other bank. They might have done it in these first moments. 
 Perhaps, no longer doubting of the certain success of their arms, 
 they imagined they could pass the river whenever they pleased, and 
 that Philadelphia would immediately open its gates to them. A 
 memorable example, which proves that in war, more than in any 
 other circumstance of life, it should never be thought that all is done, 
 while there still remains something to do ! Jt is perfectly certain that 
 this unexpected 'delay of the English operated to their prejudice 
 through the whole course of the war, and that it was to this capital 
 fault the Americans owed their safety. 
 
 The English general established his head-quarters at Trenton, 
 extending his two wings, above and below, along the left bank of the 
 Delaware. This river, after having run from northwest to southeast 
 till it reaches Bordentown, there makes a sudden bend, and flows to 
 the southwest towards Philadelphia ; if the English, therefore, had 
 passed it above Trenton, at a place called Cot'iell's Ferry, or in its 
 vicinity, they would have found themselves as near to this capital as 
 the Americans themselves, who guarded the banks of the Delaware 
 opposite Trenton. That they had formed this design is demonstrat- 
 ed by the attempt they made to seize certain boats at Coriell's 
 Ferry, which, however, was defeated by the vigilance of lord Sierl- 
 ing. To oppose an obstacle to this passage, the commander-in-chief 
 directed general Putnam, an engineer of great ability, to draw lines 
 from the Schuylkill to the heights of Springatsburgh. But as the 
 enemy had repaired the bridges below Trenton, and the corps he 
 had at Bordentown were daily reenforced, the Americans became 
 apprehensive that he would attempt to pass the river at once above 
 them at Coriell's Ferry and below them at Burlington ; which would 
 have enabled him to close upon their rear, and thus to shut up their 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 367 
 
 whole army in the point of land formed by the flexure of the Dela- 
 ware. To obviate this danger, Washington stationed his gallics in 
 places the most proper to observe the motions of the English, and to 
 repulse them if they attempted the passage. The upper parts being 
 the most menaced, he detached his best troops to guard them. 
 Redoubts were erected from distance to distance, and furnished 
 with artillery. Finally, the order was given, in case of misfor- 
 tune, and if the enemy passed the river, that all the troops should 
 fall bark upon Gennantovvn, a large village, but a few miles distant 
 from Philadelphia. 
 
 The English generals seeing the enemy's preparations of defence, 
 and perhaps hoping to be able to pass the Delaware in safety, when 
 it should be frozen, which, as the season was now advanced, might 
 be expected very shortly ; instead of following the Americans in 
 their retreat, and of allowing them no time to rally, distributed their 
 troops in winter quarters. Four thousand men took their lodgings 
 upon the very bank of the river, at Trenton, at Bordenton, at Black- 
 horse and at Burlington. Strong detachments occupied Princeton 
 and New Brunswick, where were found their magazines of pro- 
 visions and of munitions. The rest of the troops were cantoned 
 about in the villages of New Jersey. 
 
 While the English army was thus arrested upon the banks of the 
 Delaware, either by the negligence or presumption of its chiefs, or 
 by the firmness and prudence of Washington, this general omitted no 
 exertions to reenforce his army with militia, as well as with regular 
 troops. 
 
 Generals Mifflin and Armstrong, who both enjoyed a great in- 
 fluence in Pennsylvania, went through the province, exhorting the 
 people to take arms and fly to the defence of the capital, and of the 
 country. Their exhortations and the approach of danger produced 
 the desired effect. Many of the inhabitants repaired to the republi- 
 can standard, though without manifesting all of them a very ardent 
 zeal. That the regular troops might serve as a nucleus, for the 
 militia to rally about, Washington ordered general Gates to bring 
 him promptly the best of the troops he commanded in Canada, after 
 having posted the militia of New England to guard the most import- 
 ant passes. Gates arrived the twentieth of December at the army 
 of Pennsylvania. General Lee ^ad received the same order ; but he 
 executed it with great slowness and a sort of repugnance ; whether 
 his ambition led him to prefer the command of a separate army, or 
 that he considered it as more advisable to maintain himself in the 
 upper and mountainous part%of New Jersey, in order to be always 
 ready to annoy the right flank of the British army. He was drawn 
 from this langor by an event which threw him into a painful captivi- 
 ty, and which filled all America with profound regret, where his 
 zeal, his intelligence, and his military skill, were held in the highest 
 consideration. 
 
368 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VJI. 
 
 Being at a place called Baskinbridge, distant about twenty miles 
 from the quarters of the enemy, he thought himself so out of all 
 danger that he neglected the usual precautions. He took up his 
 quarters at a house considerably removed from the main body, where 
 he remained with a slender guard. Colonel Harcourt, who scoured 
 the country with his cavalry, was informed of this circumstance by a 
 loyalist, and immediately galloped towards the place where Lee was 
 so incautiously lodged. The colonel appearing suddenly, secured 
 the sentinels without noise, and darting into the house, arrested the 
 general. He caused him immediately to mount a very swift horse, 
 and with the same promptness and good fortune conducted him 
 prisoner to New York. This news spread as much consternation 
 among the Americans, as alacrity among the English ; who boasted 
 that they had seized the Palladium of America. This capture of 
 general Lee occasioned transports of joy even at the court of Saint 
 James, as if some great victory had been obtained, or as if this inci- 
 dent was more fortunate than the conquest of New Jersey itself, and 
 the fair prospect opened of soon entering the city of Philadelphia. 
 From this time there arose a violent controversy between the chiefs 
 of the two parties, relative to the manner in which general Lee and 
 the other prisoners of war should be treated. General Gage, when 
 he was invested with the command, had always refused to consent to 
 the exchange of prisoners. There resulted from it a deplorable 
 system of cruelty on the one part as well as on the other. But when 
 general Howe appeared at the head of the British army, either 
 because his character was more humane than that of his predecessor, 
 or that he had received particular instructions from his government, 
 or finally, that he was constrained to it by the great number of 
 English who were fallen into the power of the Americans, he had 
 agreed from time to lime to make exchanges. But when he found 
 himself in possession of general Lee, he refused to fulfil with respect 
 to him the laws of war, and caused him to be closely confined, as if 
 he had been a prisoner of state. He advanced as a reason for his 
 conduct, that Lee being invested with the rank of an officer in the 
 English army, he was to be considered as a deserter, and a traitor. 
 He had formerly received, it is true, his half pay as a British officer ; 
 but upon the breaking out of hostilities, he had resigned his rak in 
 England, to be at liberty to enter tj^ service of America. But this 
 resignation had not perhaps arrived seasonably ; or the hatred borne 
 him by the government and British generals having more power over 
 them than the usage of civilised nations, they affected to consider 
 and treat him rather as a prisoner of stute than as a prisoner of war. 
 As Washington had no British officer in his power of equal rank 
 with general Lee, he had proposed to general Howe to give six 
 Hessian officers in exchange for him ; adding, that in case this offer 
 should not be accepted, he demanded at least that Lee should be 
 
BOOK. VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 369 
 
 treated in a manner suitable to his rank, and this not only in con- 
 formity with the laws of nations, but also in reciprocity for the good 
 treatment which the English officers that were prisoners received on 
 the part of the Americans. General Howe persisted in his refusal ; 
 the Congress then resorted to reprisals. They ordered that lieute- 
 nant-colonel Campbell and five Hessian officers should be imprisoned 
 and treated as general Lee. This order was executed even with 
 more rigor than it prescribed. The "lieutenant-colonel, being then 
 at Boston, was thrown into a dungeon destined for malefactors. 
 Washington blamed this excess ; he knew that Lee was detained 
 but not ill treated. He also apprehended reprisals, since there were 
 more Americans in the hands of the English, than English in the 
 hands of the Americans. He wrote with great earnestness to 
 Congress upon this subject, but without effect ; lieutenant-colonel 
 Campbell and the Hessians were not liberated until general Howe 
 had consented to consider Lee as a prisoner of war. 
 
 During these altercations the exchange of prisoners was entirely 
 suspended. Those in the hands of the English at New York had to 
 experience every sort of ill treatment. They were shut up in 
 churches and in other places, exposed to all the inclemency of the 
 air. They were not allowed sufficient nourishment ; their fare was 
 scanted even of coarse bread, and certain aliments which excited 
 disgust. The sick were confounded with the healthy, both equally 
 a prey to the most shocking defect of cleanliness, and exposed to 
 the outrages of the soldiers, and especially of the loyalists. Nothing 
 alleviated their sufferings. A confined and impure air engendered 
 mortal diseases ; more than fifteen hundred of these unfortunate 
 men perished in a few weeks. It was believed that so much cruelty 
 was purposely exercised with a view of constraining the prisoners to 
 enlist under the royal ^standard. It is certain, at least, that the 
 officers of the king incessantly exhorted them to it. But they all 
 refused ; preferring a certain death to the desertion of their country. 
 The fate of the officers was not much less deplorable. Despoiled 
 of every thing by the rapacity of the English soldiers, they were 
 abandoned to all wants. Some of them, though wounded and with- 
 out clothing, were carted through the streets of New York for the 
 sport of the populace. In the midst of hisses and imprecations, they 
 were denominated rebels and trgitors. Several were even caned 
 for having attempted to procure some relief for their soldiers, who 
 were perishing with hunger 'and disease in their infected dungeons. 
 Washington had addressed frequent and bitter complaints to general 
 Howe of this barbarous conduct towards prisoners of war. The 
 English general answered by denials, by excuses, and even by 
 recriminations. But that he was culpable, is proved by his having 
 refused the offer of the American general, who proposed to send 
 an agent to New York to provide for the wants of the prisoners. 
 VOL. i. 47 
 
370 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Hence the hatred between the two people acquired a new degree of 
 violence. At length, those who had survived so many evils, were 
 exchanged, and set at liberty. But such was their miserable condi- 
 tion that many died on the way before they could revisit their 
 country and all the objects of their affection. There arose new 
 difficulties upon this subject between the two generals ; the English- 
 man insisting that his prisoners should be restored even in exchange 
 for the dead, and the American refusing it. All this affair of pri- 
 soners proves but too clearly that in civil wars, friends become worse 
 than natural enemies, and the most civilised nations no better than 
 barbarians. But the greater part of these inhuman excesses are 
 incontestably attributable to the English. 
 
 After general Lee had fallen into the hands of the enemy, general 
 Sullivan, who succeeded him, manifested greater promptitude in 
 obeying the orders of Washington. He crossed the Delaware at 
 Phillipsburgh, and joined him about the last of December; this re- 
 enforcement carried the American army to not far from seven thou- 
 sand men. But the greater part of these troops completed their 
 engagement with the year, and they were upon the point of a total 
 dissolution. 
 
 While the English pursued the relics of the American army through 
 the plains of New Jersey, and the latter, happy in having been able 
 to cross the Delaware, found itself almost without hope, fortune did 
 not show herself more propitious to the cause of the revolution upon 
 the coasts of Rhode Island. Admiral sir Peter Parker, and general 
 Clinton with four brigades of English as well as Hessians, had under- 
 taken an expedition against this province, on board a numerous 
 squadron. The provincials not expecting this attack, were totally 
 unprepared for defence ; they consequently abandoned Rhode Island 
 without resistance to the English, who occupied it the same day that 
 Washington passed the Delaware. This loss was of great importance, 
 as well from the situation of the province as because the American 
 squadron, under commodore Hopkins, was compelled to withdraw as 
 far up the Providence river as it was practicable, and to continue 
 there blocked up and useless for a long time. The English also 
 occupied the two neighboring islands of Conanicut and of Prudence. 
 Two pieces of cannon fell into their power, but they made few pri- 
 soners. The conquest of Rhode4sland was of great utility for their, 
 ulterior operations ; from this province they could harass Massachu- 
 setts ; and the reenforcements that general Lincoln had assembled 
 with the intention of conducting them to the army of Washington, 
 were detained in that province, to observe general Clinton, and pre- 
 vent him from disturbing its tranquillity. Even Connecticut shared 
 the alarm, and retained the reenforcements it was upon the point of 
 sending to the camp of the Delaware. 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 371 
 
 The English, in like manner desirous to prevent the colonies of the 
 south from transmitting succours to those of the middle, which they 
 intended to attack, renewed, during the summer of the present year, 
 their negotiations with the loyalists and with the savages of the upper 
 parts, in order to induce them to act against Georgia, the two Caro- 
 linas and Virginia. Notwithstanding the little success which had, 
 in the preceding year, attended the enterprises of the Regulators 
 and the Scotch emigrants, the English agents, and particularly one 
 Stuart, a man of extreme activity and audacity, flattered themselves 
 with the hope of obtaining a more efficacious cooperation oh the part 
 of the Indian tribes. They were as lavish of exhortations and pro- 
 mises as of gold and presents. They gave out that a strong corps of 
 English would disembark in West Florida ; that traversing the terri- 
 tory of the Creeks, the Chickasaws, and the Cherokees, they would 
 join with the warriors of these nations, and invade the two Carolinas 
 and Virginia ; while, at the same time, a numerous fleet and power- 
 ful army should attack the coasts. Stuart addressed circulars to the 
 loyalists, inviting them to come and put themselves under the royal 
 standard, erected in the country of the Cherokees ; he urged them 
 to bring with them their horses, their cattle, and provisions of every 
 sort, for which they should be paid a liberal price. The loyalists, 
 who remembered too well their recent defeat, made no movement of 
 importance. But the Indians, excited by the words and presents of 
 the emissaries, no less than by the probabilities of success, and their 
 thirst of pillage, assembled in considerable numbers, and manifested 
 great animosity against the colonies. The Six Nations themselves, 
 who till this epoch had observed a strict neutrality, began to waver, and 
 had already committed hostilities upon their borders. The Creeks, 
 still more audacious, took the field, and displayed their accustomed 
 ferocity. But having found that deeds did not correspond with 
 words, and that the promised succours did not appear, they desisted, 
 and demanded a pardon, which was easily granted them. They 
 manifested afterwards so much regard for their oaths, or so much 
 distrust for the promises of the English, or finally, such profound 
 terror, that when the Cherokees not long after urged them for suc- 
 cours, they answered that they had buried the hatchet so deep that 
 it could not be found. But the Cherokees listened only to their fury ; 
 they fell furiously upon the colonies, exercising frightful ravages, 
 scalping and mutilating their prisoners. They massacred with the 
 same barbarity those who were able to carry arms, and those who 
 were not ; old men, women, and children, were butchered without 
 discrimination. Their security was increased by the appearance of 
 the fleet under sir Peter Parker, which had arrived in the waters of 
 Charleston. But when this fleet after the unsuccessful attack of fort 
 Moultrie, had abandoned the shores of Carolina, the Cherokees found 
 themselves in a very critical situation. 
 
372 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Having no longer any thing to fear, upon their coasts, the inhabit- 
 ants of the two Carolinas and of Virginia devoting all their cares 
 to free themselves from this scourge, turned their forces against the 
 savages, who devastated their country. These barbarians were not 
 only defeated in several rencounters, but the Americans pursued them 
 even into their own territory, putting all to fire and sword, burning 
 their habitations, cutting their trees, destroying their corn, and slaying 
 all those who had borne, or still bore arms. This expedition was 
 almost the total ruin of the nation of Cherokees. Those who sur- 
 vived it, submitted to all the conditions of the conqueror, or wanting 
 provisions, took refuge with this Stuart, the author of the war and of 
 their disasters, in West Florida, where the British government was 
 forced to support them. Thus terminated this year the campaign 
 against the savages ; it may be observed, that no chastisement was 
 ever more severe, or more deserved, than that which was inflicted 
 upon the nation of the Cherokees. The avaricious and cruel men 
 who excited these barbarians to commit so many horrors, were the 
 more inexcusable, inasmuch as they had received their birth and 
 education under the more clement sky of Europe. 
 
 But the order of events recalls us to Canada, where military 
 operations, far from being suspended, were pursued with extreme 
 vigor. We have related in the preceding book, that the Americans 
 had been constrained by the superiority of the British arms, to eva- 
 cuate all Lower Canada, and even Montreal and fort St. John. 
 They had retired to Crown Point, whither the English were unable 
 to follow them for want of the necessary vessels not only to cross 
 Lake Champlain, but also to combat those the Americans had armed 
 for their defence. Such, however, was the importance to the de- 
 signs of the English of obtaining an absolute control of the lakes, that 
 general Carleton set himself with all diligence to the equipment of a 
 fleet. His plan was, according to the instructions of the ministry, 
 to penetrate by way of the lakes to the Hudson river, and thus to 
 effect a junction with the army of New York, at Albany. By the 
 execution of this plan, the provinces of New England would have 
 found themselves separated from the others by a powerful and 
 victorious army, and the cause of America would have been ex- 
 posed to the most imminent perils. Long deliberated in the coun- 
 cils of the British ministers, it was their favorite scheme. And, 
 in effect, the very nature of the places between Canada and New- 
 York, appeared to favor this enterprise. With the exception of the 
 heights which are found between the upper extremity of Lake 
 George and the left bank of the Hudson, and which only occupy a 
 space of sixteen miles, the entire passage from one of these provinces 
 to the other, can easily be made by water, first by ascending from the 
 Saint Lawrence into the Sorel, and then traversing the Lakes Cham- 
 plain and George, or Wood Creek, to the lands which separate it" 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 373 
 
 from the Hudson. This river afterwards leads directly to the city of 
 New York. The English having an immense superiority at sea, Ca- 
 nada being entirely in their power, and as the principal seat of resist- 
 ance was found in the provinces of New England, while the coasts 
 of New York were peculiarly accessible to maritime attacks, it can- 
 not be denied that this plan of campaign presented great advantages. 
 But the difficulty of the enterprise of general Carleton was equal 
 to its importance. It was requisite to construct, or at least to equip 
 a fleet of thirty vessels of different dimensions, and to arm them 
 with artillery ; the want of materials rendered either of these objects 
 difficult to accomplish. The transportation afterwards in certain 
 places by land, and drawing up the rapids of Saint Theresa and 
 Saint John, of thirty large long boats, a gondola of thirty tons, a 
 number of flat bottomed boats of considerable burthen, with above 
 four hundred batteaux, was an operation which offered not only great 
 obstacles, but even an appearance of impossibility. But the English 
 seamen, from their skill and patience, were not intimidated by it. 
 The soldiers seconded them, and the peasants taken from their rustic 
 labors, were compelled to share the toil. The generals urged for- 
 ward this laborious undertaking on account of the lateness of the 
 season ; as the winter already approached. It was necessary to pass 
 two lakes of considerable extent; they had no certain intelligence 
 respecting the force of the enemy in the fortresses of Crown Point and 
 Ticonderoga ; finally, after having worsted him upon Lake Cham- 
 plain, by means of large vessels, it was to be feared that the squad- 
 ron would not be able to pass the strait which joins this lake to Lake 
 George, into which however it was absolutely necessary that it should 
 enter. Meanwhile, if it should be possible to surmount so many 
 obstacles, there still would remain to be effected the passage of the 
 woods, the marshes, and the defiles which are found between the 
 point of debarkation and the banks of the Hudson, in order to gain 
 the city of Albany, where only they could meet with such accommo- 
 dations as would enable them to winter commodiously. But far from 
 appearing discouraged, the English seemed to be animated with new 
 ardor, and the soldiers rivalled their officers in zeal. They felt all 
 tbe importance of the enterprise, and persuaded themselves that if 
 they could reach Albany before winter, their definitive success would 
 be secured. The brilliant advantages obtained by the army of New 
 Jersey, filled them with emulation ; they were eager to share them, and 
 fearful of arriving too late upon the theatre of glory. They labored 
 therefore with incredible activity ; but notwithstanding all their efforts, 
 the preparations could not be completed, nor the armament fully 
 equipped, till the middle of tbe month of October. It was numerous, 
 and superior in strength to any that had ever been seen upon these 
 lakes, arid would have made no contemptible figure even upon the 
 European seas. The admiral's ship, called the Inflexible, carried 
 
374 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 eighteen twelve pounders, and was followed by two stout schooners, 
 the one mounting fourteen, the other twelve six pounders ; a large 
 flat bottomed radeau, with six twenty-four and six twelve pounders. 
 Twenty vessels of less size carried each a brass piece of ordnance, 
 from nine to twenty-four pounders, or howitzers. Several long boats 
 were equipped in the same manner. Besides these, there was a 
 great number of boats and tenders of various sizes, to serve as trans- 
 ports for the troops, baggage, warlike stores, provisions, and arms of 
 every sort. 
 
 The whole fleet was commanded by captain Pringle, a sea officer 
 of great experience; it was manned by a select body of seamen, 
 animated with an extreme desire of victory. The land troops en- 
 camped in the environs, prepared, as soon as the navigation of the 
 lake should be secured, to fall upon the enemy. Three thousand 
 men occupied He aux Noix, and as many were stationed at Fort 
 Saint John, the remainder was distributed either in the vessels or in 
 the neighboring garrisons. 
 
 The Americans united all their forces to resist such formidable 
 preparations. Generals Schuyler and Gates were at their head, and 
 Arnold showed himself every where, inspiring the soldiers with that 
 ardent courage for which he was himself distinguished. 
 
 As the event of the campaign upon this frontier depended totally 
 upon naval operations, the Americans exerted themselves to the 
 utmost of their power to arm and equip a fleet capable of opposing 
 that of the enemy. But their success little corresponded with their 
 efforts. Besides the want of materials for construction, they had not 
 a sufficiency of other stores, and their seaports were so occupied in 
 the building of privateers and ships for the service of Congress, that 
 few carpenters could be spared. Accordingly, notwithstanding the 
 activity and perseverance of the American generals, their squadron 
 amounted to no more than fifteen vessels of different sizes, two brigs, 
 one corvette, one sloop, three gallies, and eight gondolas. Their 
 largest vessel mounted only twelve six, and four pounders. But 
 that this armament might not want a chief whose intrepidity equalled 
 the danger of the enterprise, the command of it was given to general 
 Arnold. It was expected of him to maintain, upon this new element, 
 the reputation he had acquired upon land. The American army, 
 notwithstanding all the obstacles it had encountered, and the ravages 
 of the smallpox, still amounted to eight or nine thousand men; it 
 was assembled under the cannon of Ticonderoga, after having left a 
 sufficient garrison at Crown Point. 
 
 All the dispositions being made on both sides, general Carleton, 
 impatient to conquer, ordered all his naval forces to advance towards 
 Crown Point, intending to attack the enemy there. He had already 
 reached the middle of the lake without having been able to discover 
 him, and was proceeding without any distrust, when all at once the 
 

 BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 375 
 
 English perceived the American squadron, which was drawn up with 
 great skill, behind the Island of Valincour, and occupied the passage 
 between the island and the western shore of the lake. This unex- 
 pected interview caused a violent agitation on both sides. A fierce 
 engagement immediately ensued. But the wind being unfavorable 
 to the English, they could not display their whole line ; the Inflexi- 
 ble, and their other vessels of the largest class, look no part in the 
 action. The brig Carleton, accompanied by several gun boats, 
 assailed the enemy with singular courage and ability. The Ameri- 
 cans supported the combat with equal bravery ; it lasted above four 
 hours. The wind continuing to be contrary for the English, captain 
 Pringle perceived that he could not hope to obtain advantages with 
 a part of his forces against all those of the enemy, and accordingly 
 gave the signal of retreat ; ordering the fleet to be anchored in a 
 line, in presence of the American squadron. 
 
 The Americans had lost in the action their largest brig, which 
 took fire and was consumed, as also a gondola which went to the 
 bottom. They considered it as extremely dangerous to await a 
 second engagement in the anchorage they occupied, and consequently 
 determined to retire under the walls of Crown Point, hoping that 
 the artillery of the fortress would counterbalance the superiority of 
 the enemy's force. Fortune seemed inclined to favor this design of 
 general Arnold ; and already his vessels, having lost sight of those 
 of the English, sailed rapidly towards their new station ; when sud- 
 denly the wind became favorable to the enemy, who pursued and 
 came up with them before their arrival at Crown Point. The battle 
 was immediately renewed with greater fury than at first ; it continued 
 upwards of two hours. Those vessels in the meanwhile v-hich were 
 most ahead, crowded sail, and passing Crown Point, ran for Ticon- 
 deroga. Only two galleys and five gondolas, remained with general 
 Arnold. With these he made a desperate defence ; but his second 
 in command, brigadier general Waterburgh, being taken with his 
 vessel, and the others making but a faint resistance, he determined, 
 in order to prevent his people and shipping from falling into the 
 power of the enemy, to run these ashore and set them on fire. He 
 executed his intention with great address. He remained on board 
 the vessel he commanded, and kept her colors flying, till she was on 
 fire. Though he had been unsuccessful on this occasion, the dispa- 
 rity of strength duly considered, he lost no reputation, but rose on 
 the contrary in the estimation of his countrymen. He had, in their 
 opinion, acquitted himself with no less ability in this naval encounter, 
 thati he had done at land before. The Americans, having destroyed 
 whatever could not be carried off, evacuated Crown Point and with- 
 drew to Ticonderoga. General Carleton occupied the former im- 
 mediately, and the rest of his army came soon after to join him 
 there. 
 
376 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Such was the issue of the expedition which the Americans had 
 undertaken in Canada, with a view of establishing the theatre of war 
 upon the territory of their enemies, before they could attempt to 
 invade their own. Completely masters of Lake Champlain, the 
 English had now no other obstacle to surmount besides the fortress 
 of Ticonderoga, in order to penetrate into Lake George. If 
 Carleton, rapidly availing himself of his advantage, had pushed for- 
 ward against the enemy, thrown into confusion by defeat, perhaps 
 he might have seized this important place without difficulty. But 
 he was prevented from doing it by a south wind, which prevailed 
 for several days. The Americans made the best use of this time in 
 preparing and increasing their means of defence. They mounted 
 their cannon, constructed new works, and repaired the old, surround- 
 ing them with moats and palisades. The garrison was reenforced 
 with extreme expedition ; and conformably to the orders of Wash- 
 ington, the oxen and horses were removed into distant places, that 
 the English might not seize them for provision or draught. Mean- 
 while, general Carleton had not neglected to detach scouting parties 
 upon the two banks of the lake; and, when the wind permitted, 
 some light vessels were also sent towards Ticonderoga to reconnoitre 
 the force of the enemy and the state of the fortress. All the reports 
 agreed that the fortifications were formidable, and the garrison full 
 of ardor. He reflected, therefore, that the siege must be long, diffi- 
 cult, and sanguinary, and concluded accordingly that the possession 
 of this fortress would not indemnify him for all it might cost. The 
 severe season approached ; the want of provisions, the difficulty of 
 direct communications with Canada, and the little hope of success 
 from an expedition in the cold and desert regions which separate the 
 river Hudson from Lake George, rendered the wintering upon this 
 lake extremely perilous. In consequence of these considerations, 
 the English general deemed the reduction of Ticonderoga of little 
 utility in his present circumstances, whereas the command of the 
 lakes secured him a clear passage to return in the spring to the at- 
 tack of this fortress, without exposing his troops to the hardships of 
 a siege, undertaken in the midst of the rigors of winter. After hav- 
 ing taken the advice of a council of war, he renounced the project 
 of an attack, and early in November conducted his army back to- 
 wards Montreal, leaving his advanced posts in He aux Noix. But 
 prior to his retreat, from the singular courtesy and humanity. of his 
 character, he sent to their homes the American officers who had 
 fallen into his power, administering generously to all their wants. 
 He exercised the same liberality towards the common soldiers. The 
 greater part were almost naked ; he caused them to be completely 
 clothed, and set them at liberty, after having taken their oath that 
 they would not serve against the armies of the king;. General 
 Carleton was blamed for having taken winter quarters ; this resolution 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 377 
 
 was considered as a mark of weakness, and as highly prejudicial to 
 the success of ulterior operations ; since if he had immediately made 
 himself master of Ticonderoga, his troops, after having passed the 
 winter in its vicinity, would have been able to enter the field early 
 the following spring. It is probable, in effect, that the war would, in 
 that case, have had a very different result from what it actually had. 
 But the conquest of a place so strong by nature and by art as Ticon- 
 deroga, depended on the resistance which the Americans would have 
 made ; and certainly their number, the valor they had displayed in 
 the naval actions, the extreme confidence they had in their chiefs, 
 all announced that their defence would have been long and obstinate. 
 Nor should the consideration be omitted of the difficulty of subsist- 
 ence, and of the communications with Canada. Be this as it may, 
 the retreat of the English general, and his inaction during the winter, 
 had the most happy results for the Americans. The army which 
 had made the campaign under general Lee, was enabled to effect its 
 junction with that of Washington, upon the banks of the Delaware ; 
 and a part of the army of Canada. itself could take the same direc- 
 tion, under the conduct of general Gates. 
 
 It cttpnot be doubted, however, that the Americans at this time 
 trod utKTh the brink of precipices ; a single reverse might have 
 completed their ruin. Two important provinces, New York and 
 Rhode Island, as well as the greater part of New Jersey, were fallen 
 into the power of the victorious army. And though the arms of 
 Clinton, equally successful, had arrested their course under the walls 
 of Ticonderoga, it was but too probable that on the return of spring 
 he would make a new effort to carry this fortress, and to penetrate 
 to the banks of the Hudson, in order to operate his junction with the 
 army of New York. As to Washington, it was not to be expected 
 that! while inferior himself to his adversary, he would be in a situa- 
 tion to send back to the army of Canada the troops that were enabled 
 by the cessation of hostilities upon the lakes, to come to join him 
 upon the Delaware. 
 
 Though he had received, as we have seen, some reenforcements, 
 he was still as far from being able to match the enemy either in the 
 number, spirit, or discipline of his soldiers, as in the quantity and 
 quality of his munitions of every sort. He was also continually 
 subject to that scourge of the American army, desertion, authorised 
 by the expiration of engagements, which incessantly menaced it with 
 an approaching, and almost total dissolution. It was no slight 
 motive of alarm for the most influential members of Congress, to 
 remark the promptitude with which the inhabitants of the conquered 
 provinces, and especially of New York, hastened to change sides 
 and to take advantage of the proffered pardon. 
 
 Some individuals were even seen to enrol themselves under the 
 royal standard ; it seemed that they were determined to add to 
 VOL. i. 48 
 
378 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 English civil war, the horrors of American civil war. It was to be 
 feared that their example would prove contagious for the other pro- 
 vinces, and that disaffection would manifest itself on all parts. 
 
 The intrigues of governor Tryon, to compass this object, were no 
 longer a secret ; for this very purpose he had been appointed briga- 
 dier-general, and his manoeuvres had already succeeded in many 
 places. On the contrary, the business of recruiting moved very 
 heavily on the part of the Americans, whereas desertion enfeebled 
 their armies from day to day. To so many evils was joined another 
 more fatal still ; the bills of credit began to depreciate. The govern- 
 ment, however, had no other source of revenue. It was not yet 
 sufficiently confirmed to hazard the imposition of taxes, payable in 
 specie ; and this measure would besides have produced only an 
 increase of the evil, by augmenting the discredit of paper ; it was 
 therefore much to be apprehended that money, this principal sinew 
 of war, would ere long be totally wanting. The emission of new 
 bills of credit would infallibly accelerate their daily depreciation ; 
 and yet it was impossible, by reason of the ever increasing exigen- 
 cies of the public service, to abstain from continual issues. Already 
 there were not wanting those who refused not only to receive them 
 at a discount, but even at any rate whatever. The present time was 
 painful, and the future appeared still more alarming. It was feared 
 by all, and asserted by many, that the tomb of independence was 
 not far from its cradle ; some even openly blamed the Congress for 
 having declared independence, and thereby closed all avenue to an 
 honorable accommodation ; before this declaration, they said, we 
 could treat with honor, but since, not without shame, and even be- 
 coming the fable of the universe. 
 
 Surrounded by obstacles so numerous and so fearful, the Congress 
 lost none of their firmness, and resolved to set fortune at defiance. 
 Far from betraying any symptoms of despair, they manifested 
 greater confidence than ever, and appeared to admit no doubt re- 
 specting the eventual success of the great enterprise in which they 
 were engaged. They knew that constancy triumphs over fate. Full 
 of a noble ardor, they preferred the dangers of war to those of 
 peace. The admirable fortitude with which they sustained the 
 assaults of adverse fortune, when a common ruin seemed ready to 
 ingulf them with the cause they supported, must eternally attach to 
 their names the glory of having laid the foundations of a new state. 
 The nations of the earth rendered the homage of their admiration to 
 so much magnanimity. 
 
 When at first, the ship of America, impelled by propitious breezes, 
 seemed about to enter the port in safety, the wisdom of the pilots 
 was universally applauded j but in the midst of a tremendous tem- 
 pest, their intrepidity and their constancy shone with a splendor still 
 more dazzling. The people of Europe felt an increase of affection 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 379 
 
 for the Americans, and of hatred against England, for attempting to 
 reduce to slavery so generous a nation. So natural it is to the 
 human heart to take an interest, from the sentiment of its independ- 
 ence, in the efforts made by the weak against the powerful, or from 
 commisseration to sympathise with the brave in their struggles 
 against the perversity of fate. Thus the Americans honored their 
 reverses by virtues, at the epoch when the public fortune appeared 
 upon the verge of ruin, and no cheering ray was seen to gleam in 
 the perspective. 
 
 We have already mentioned the measures taken by the Congress, 
 in order to reenforce the army by new levies, to remedy the danger 
 resulting from the shortness of engagements, and to call into the 
 field the provincial militia. As if they had intended to defy the 
 presence and the menaces of a formidable enemy, they employed 
 themselves in drawing up various articles of confederation and per- 
 petual union between the states, that each of them might know its 
 particular authority within, and its reciprocal duties towards the 
 others ; as also to ascertain the extent of executive power with 
 which it was requisite that Congress should be invested. These 
 articles were adopted in the sitting of the fourth of October, and 
 immediately sent to the respective assemblies of each state for 
 approbation. The principal were the following ; 
 
 4 The thirteen states confederated under the name of the United 
 States of America. 
 
 1 They all and each obligated themselves to contribute for the 
 common defence, and for the maintenance of their liberties. 
 
 * Each particular state preserved the exclusive right of regulating 
 its internal government, and of framing laws in all matters not includ- 
 ed in the articles of the confederation, and which could not any way 
 be prejudicial to it. 
 
 * No particular state was either to send or to receive ambassadors, 
 enter into negotiations, contract engagements, form alliances, or 
 make war, excepting in case of sudden attack, with any king, prince, 
 or power whatsoever, without the consent of the United States. 
 
 ' No individual holding any magistracy s office or commission what- 
 soever from the United States, or from any one of them, was allowed 
 to accept of any presents, nor any offices, or titles of any kind what- 
 ever, from any foreign king, prince, or potentate. 
 
 ' No assembly was to confer titles of nobility. 
 
 1 No state was to make alliances or treaties of what kind soever 
 with another, without the consent of all. 
 
 ' Each particular state had authority to maintain in peace as well 
 as in war the number of armed ships and of land troops, judged 
 necessary by the general assembly of all the states, and no more. 
 
 ' There should be a public treasury for the service of the confe- 
 deration, which was to be replenished by the particular contribution^ 
 
380 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 of each state ; the same to be proportioned according to the number 
 of inhabitants of every age, sex or condition, with the exception 
 however of Indians. 
 
 { A general Congress was to be convoked every year on the first 
 Monday of November, to be composed of deputies from all the 
 states ; it was invested with all the powers that belong to the 
 sovereigns of other nations.' These powers were exactly enume- 
 rated. 
 
 1 Every individual holding any office, and receiving either salary, 
 wages, or emolument whatsoever, was thereby excluded from Con- 
 gress. 
 
 * There was to be a council of state, composed of one deputy for 
 each province, nominated annually by his colleagues of the same 
 state, and in case these should not agree, by the general Congress.' 
 Each state was to have but one vote. 
 
 4 During the session as well as the recess of the general Congress, 
 the council of state was to be charged with the management of the 
 public affairs of the confederation, always restricting itself however 
 within the limits prescribed by the laws, and particularly by the 
 articles of the confederation itself. 
 
 1 The province of Canada was invited to enter into the Union. 
 
 The Congress afterwards desiring to revive the courage of those 
 who had suffered themselves to be intimidated by reverses, and to 
 prevent their sentiments from changing with fortune, issued a pro- 
 clamation wherein they represented anew the justice of their cause, 
 their long and fruitless supplications, the cruel proceedings of the 
 ministers, the necessity of the declaration of independence, and the 
 unanimous approbation with which it had been received. Then 
 followed the enumeration of all the successes which had attended the 
 American arms in the northern provinces ; the English driven from 
 Boston, repulsed before Charleston, arrested in their progress at 
 Ticonderoga. Finally, the American people were invited to consider 
 the immense value of the prizes made at sea, the abundance of pro- 
 visions, and the probability of soon seeing the army suitably clothed 
 and equipped. All the citizens, and especially those of Pennsylvania, 
 of New Jersey, and of the neighboring states, were exhorted to show 
 themselves united and firm in the defence of country. ' Consider,' 
 said the proclamation, l that the present state of our affairs is not to 
 be attributed to any faults of the generals, or want of valor in the 
 soldiers, but to the shortness of the term of enlistments. Reflect, 
 that foreign princes have already furnished us with a multitude of 
 articles necessary to war, and be assured that we shall receive from 
 them succours still more efficacious. Be not wanting to yourselves, 
 nor suffer the rich and populous city of Philadelphia to fall into the 
 power of the enemy ; let not the occasion escape of overwhelming 
 his principal army, now it is far from the ships which form so great 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 381 
 
 a part of its force. The loss of Philadelphia would not be followed 
 by the ruin of our cause, but wherefore should the enemy enjoy this 
 triumph . ? Let us arrest his career, let us baffle his efforts ; let us 
 prove to the friends of America, even the most distant, that we are 
 all animated with one same spirit, and with one only will, to defend 
 against cruel enemies what man holds, and ought to hold, the most 
 dear. Remember, that the success of our efforts will secure the 
 eternal repose and safety of the United States, and attach to our 
 names an immortal glory ; stand firm, therefore, and preserve your- 
 selves for the day of victory ; be prepared for a happier destiny.' 
 
 Desirous that the authority of religion should encourage and con- 
 firm the people in their fidelity, the Congress recommended, that the 
 assemblies of the different states should appoint a day of fasting, 
 humiliation and prayer, to obtain from the clemency of the Most 
 High, prosperity for the arms and success for the just cause of Ame- 
 rica. 
 
 But the danger increasing continually, and the enemy approaching 
 the banks of the Delaware, the Congress upon the representations of 
 generals Putnam and Mifflin took the resolution on the twelfth of 
 December, to withdraw from Philadelphia, and adjourned them- 
 selves to the twentieth of the same month at Baltimore, in Mary- 
 land. 
 
 The departure of Congress spread great consternation in the city, 
 from fear as well of the English as of the loyalists, who were very 
 numerous there, though a part of them had repaired to the commis- 
 sioners, to avail themselves of the amnesty. It was greatly appre- 
 hended that they would seek to disturb the public tranquillity ; 
 already, by their cries and menaces, they had prevented the fortifi- 
 cation of the city, which it had been intended to accomplish. The 
 greater part of the Quakers belonged to this party. Washington had 
 found it necessary to send to Philadelphia a numerous corps under 
 the command of lord Sterling, in order to support the friends of the 
 revolution, and to repress its adversaries. 
 
 The Congress being assembled at Baltimore, in consideration of 
 the imminent peril, which seemed to exact the dictatorial authority, 
 decreed, that having the most entire confidence in the wisdom, vigor, 
 and uprightness of general Washington, they invested him with the 
 most ample and complete powers to levy and organise in the most 
 expeditious mode, from any or all of the United States, sixteen bat- 
 talions of infantry, in addition to those already voted by Congress, 
 and to appoint the officers ; to raise, equip, and provide with officers, 
 three thousand' light horse, three regiments of artillery, and a corps 
 of engineers ; and to establish their pay ; to call into service the 
 militia of the several states ; to form such magazines of provisions, 
 and in such places, as he should think proper ; to displace and appoint 
 all officers under the rank of brigadier-general, and to fill up all va- 
 
3S2 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 cancies in every other department in the American armies ; to take, 
 wherever he might be, whatever he might want for the use of the 
 army, if the inhabitants would not sell it, allowing a reasonable price 
 for the same ; to arrest and confine persons who refused to take the 
 continental currency, or were otherwise disaffected to the American 
 cause ; returning to the states of which they were citizens, their 
 names and the nature of their offences, with the proofs to substantiate 
 them. It was resolved that these extraordinary powers should be 
 vested in general Washington during the term of six months, unless 
 sooner determined by Congress. 
 
 Thus the rulers of America, urged by extreme peril, and confiding 
 in the virtue of the captain-general, reposed on him alone the entire 
 weight of the war. In the midst of so many reverses, not a single 
 American was heard to hint a suspicion of treason, or even of negli- 
 gence or incapacity in the chiefs of the army ; nothing especially 
 diminished the respect and confidence of which the commander-in- 
 chief was the object. A remarkable example of moderation and 
 popular reserve. Pride had not persuaded this people that they were 
 invincible, and ambition had not rendered them suspicious. They 
 attributed their defeats to the force of things, and not to the faults of 
 their generals. This confidence in the good faith of their defenders 
 entitled them to find, and they did find, those that were faithful. Too 
 often, on the contrary, the people of other countries, prone to supi- 
 cions, lending a credulous ear to the suggestions of envy, irritated by 
 reverses, or intoxicated by success, experience to their cost, that 
 whoever has no confidence in others, finds none in return. 
 
 As it was essential to provide pecuniary resources, the Congress 
 passed a law authorising a loan of five millions of dollars, at the annual 
 interest of four per cent. The faith of the United States was pledged 
 for the reimbursement of the capital, at the end of three years, and 
 of the interest annually. For this purpose they established a loan 
 office in each of the United States, to be superintended by a com- 
 missioner appointed by the said states respectively, who should re- 
 ceive a commission of one eighth per cent, on all monies that should 
 be brought into the office. A short time after, observing that the 
 loan made little progress, the interest was raised to six per cent. 
 
 With the same intention, the Congress also created a lottery, con- 
 sisting of one hundred thousand tickets, each ticket divided into four 
 billets at ten, twenty, thirty or forty dollars each, and to be drawn in 
 four classes. This lottery, after deduction of the prizes, was to raise 
 the sum of fifteen hundred thousand dollars. The holders of the 
 fortunate billets might receive under certain conditions, a treasury 
 bank note for the prize or prizes drawn, payable at the end of five 
 years, and an annual interest on the same of four per cent. It was 
 hoped thus to amass a considerable sum, as well by the gain of the 
 lottery, as by the loan of the prizes. These operations had besides 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMEH1CAN WAR. 383 
 
 another object ; by obviating the necessity of emitting new bills of 
 credit, they tended to enhance the value of those in circulation. But 
 the evil was already so great, that if these remedies were not alto- 
 gether useless, at least they could afford but little palliation. It was 
 therefore deemed necessary to resort to more efficacious means. 
 As it was especially in Pennsylvania that the paper money was 
 depreciated, the Congress decreed, that the council of safety of this 
 province, should take the most prompt and effectual measures for 
 punishing those who should refuse the bills, and that the general 
 should lend assistance to carry into effect the resolutions of the coun- 
 cil. This committee resolved that whoever should refuse to receive 
 the bills of credit in payment of any debt or contract, or as the price 
 of any commodity or merchandise whatsoever, or who should demand 
 a greater price in bills, than in coined money, should be considered 
 for the first time, as an enemy of society, and should lose either the 
 amount of his debt, or of the article sold ; which should be con- 
 sidered thenceforth as the property of the debtor or of the purchaser. 
 He was punished besides with a fine more or less considerable, ac- 
 cording to the value of the sums stipulated. But in case of relapse, 
 independently of the penalties above mentioned, the delinquents were 
 to be banished or confined in such mode and place as the council of 
 safety should think proper. Several offenders against this law, hav- 
 ing been condemned to shut their shops and to cease their traffic, 
 some even having been banished ; the former were permitted to return 
 to their commerce, and the latter to their homes, in the hope that the 
 remembrance of past punishment, and the apprehension of future, 
 would determine them to abstain from these practices, so prejudicial 
 to the public credit, and to the cause of independence. 
 
 A short time after, the Congress perceived that not only the author- 
 ity of the council of safety in Pennsylvania, had proved insufficient 
 to check the depreciation of the continental paper in that province, 
 but that the evil began to manifest itself also in the others. They 
 deemed it therefore expedient to labor directly themselves to prevent 
 this scourge, and decreed that whoever in any purchase, sale or bar- 
 gain, of whatsoever nature, should presume to rate gold and silver 
 coin at a higher value than the bills of credit issued by Congress, 
 should be declared an enemy to the liberty of the United States, 
 and should lose the price stipulated of the transaction in which this 
 difference of value should have been made. They further decreed, 
 that the provincial assemblies should be requested to constitute the 
 bills lawful money, that could not be refused in payment of debts, 
 whether public or private ; and that the refusal should operate the 
 extinction of the debt. The assemblies took the measures which 
 appeared to them proper to fulfil the intentions of Congress. The 
 first effect of these different regulations was, that all vendible articles 
 rose in proportion to the depreciation of paper ; which seemed to 
 
384 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 increase in the ratio of the efforts that were made to prevent it. An- 
 other consequence was, that the debtors liberated themselves from 
 the claims of their creditors with a money continually declining in 
 value ; and though this year the discount was not considerable, since 
 an hundred dollars in specie might be had for one hundred and four 
 in paper, many private fortunes suffered from it ; and the example 
 became pernicious. In order to arrest so serious an evil, the. Con- 
 gress invited the provincial assemblies to become responsible for the 
 redemption of the bills it had emitted, hoping that the guaranty of 
 each state for its proportional part, added to that of Congress, might 
 restore the public confidence. It was also thought very proper that 
 the assemblies of the several states should impose without delay, such 
 taxes as they might judge, from the condition of the people, could 
 be best supported, and collected with the least difficulty. The Con- 
 gress promised, that the sums produced by these taxes should be 
 passed to the credit of each state in liquidation of their proportion 
 of the public debt. The assemblies conformed to the recommend- 
 ations of Congress; and this body also decreed another loan of two 
 millions of dollars. But all these measures produced little or no 
 effect, from the pressure of the times, the uncertainty of the future, 
 and the abundance of bills already emitted, from the facility and the 
 need which the Congress had, as well as the particular states, to put 
 more into circulation every day. 
 
 But whatever might prove to be the success of the efforts of Con- 
 gress to raise troops, fo maintain the public credit, and to wrest victory 
 from the hands of the enemy, they well knew that if the European 
 powers came not promptly to the succour of America, she could 
 cherish but a feeble hope of triumph. Fortunately it was known that 
 these powers, and especially those whose naval forces rendered their 
 assistance of the most importance, at the head of whom was France, 
 were all disposed to favor America, either out of hatred towards 
 England, or from the prospect of private advantages. Independently 
 of the general inclinations of the European nations, these political 
 sentiments manifested themselves by no equivocal tokens. The 
 American ships were received in the French and Spanish ports, in 
 Europe as well as in the West Indies, as belonging to a nation not 
 only friendly, but moreover as belonging to a nation really and abso- 
 lutely independent. The French and the Spaniards derived an 
 immense advantage from it; they began to reap the fruits of this 
 commerce with America, whereof England had hitherto monopolised 
 the exclusive benefit. Nor did they restrict themselves to receiving 
 the Americans with cordiality in their ports ; they also permitted 
 their privateers publicly to sell therein 'the prizes they had taken from 
 the English, whether in Europe or in the West Indies. The remon- 
 strances which the British ministers had addressed upon this subject 
 to the Qourts of Versailles and of Madrid, had not produced any 
 
BOOK Vll. THE AMERICAN WAR. 385 
 
 sensible effect. It was no longer a secret that there daily departed 
 from the ports of France, ships laden with munitions of war i'or 
 America. There was also a fact which the English could in uo 
 shape endure, and against which they raised a violent clamor; not 
 only, as we have related, were the American privateers received in;r. 
 the ports of the French West Indies, where they sold their prizes, 
 and provided themselves with all necessary articles, but no small 
 number of the French themselves fitted out privateers under the 
 American flag, and, furnished with the commissions of Congress, 
 infested every sea, and depredated upon the English commerce; 
 which procedure, as the French government did not interdict, it was 
 necessary to conclude that it approved. There was remarked also in 
 France a general inclination in all classes, and especially among the 
 noblesse, to enter into the service of the United States ; already seve- 
 ral of these last were arrived in America, and had treated with the 
 Congress; among others, the Chevalier cle Fermoy, appointed briga- 
 dier-general in the American armies, and M. de Portail, an officer of 
 distinguished talents and valor, who was placed at the head of the 
 engineers, a corps as yet very imperfectly organised in America. 
 Never, in any other war, had the French, naturally so propense to 
 military enterprises, manifested an equal ardor to place themselves 
 under the colors of a foreign power. If this enthusiasm may be attri- 
 buted in part to the political opinions which then prevailed generally 
 in Europe, nevertheless, it must chiefly be imputed to the known dis- 
 position of the government. It is even extremely probable that France 
 would have declared war against Great Britain sooner than she did, 
 if Louis XVI. had been of a less pacific character. England saw with 
 as much solicitude, as the Americans with hope, the preparations that 
 were made with incredible activity in the ports of France and of 
 Spain. 
 
 If the British ministers demanded the reason of them, they were 
 answered, that a discussion with Portugal rendered an approaching 
 rupture with that kingdom a thing to be apprehended ; that the seas 
 were covered with English fleets, arid American privateers, arid that 
 independently of so furious a maritime war, such armies were sent 
 by England into the New World as there never had been example 
 of; that consequently France and Spain owed it to themselves to 
 increase their forces, for the protection of their commerce and the 
 security of their colonies. It was observed, also, that it appeared 
 sufficiently surprising that those, who, not Content with putting in 
 motion all their national troops, had also despatched to America a 
 large army of foreign mercenaries, should find it extraordinary thnt 
 their neighbors should stand upon their guard against all the events 
 with which they might be menaced. These explanations were by no 
 means satisfactory to the English government, and in no degree 
 diminished the hopes of the Americans, who saw clearly that the 
 VOL. i. 49 
 
386 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 motives alleged were far from corresponding with the irrmensity of 
 the preparations. It had never been questioned that the family com- 
 pact, concluded in 1761, between his most Christian majesty and the 
 catholic king, was chiefly designed to unite and confederate all the 
 branches of the house of Bourbon, in order to reduce the power of 
 England ; and what more favorable occasion could present itself than 
 the American war ? 
 
 Such evidently was the object of the extraordinary preparations of 
 France and Spain ; and if, instead of those profound lawyers who 
 then directed the counsels of England, the energetic earl of Chatham, 
 or some other statesman of his stamp, had guided the helm of state, 
 it is impossible to doubt that England would at that very time have 
 declared war against the house of Bourbon. Experience has proved, 
 this time, that fortune assists the bold, and that this world belongs to 
 him that can seize it. A^ to Holland, if, being less warlike than 
 France and Spain, she made no armaments that could give umbrage, 
 at least her merchants, attracted by the lure of gain, supplied the 
 Americans abundantly with munitions, with arms, and with whatever 
 they had need of to sustain the war. All the other powers of Europe 
 appeared to be animated, more or less, with the same spirit. Portu- 
 gal alone persisted in fidelity to England, and would never consent to 
 supply the Americans with arms or munitions, or that their privateers 
 should be received into any Portuguese port. 
 
 Maturely reflecting upon this state of things, and urged by necessity, 
 the Congress resolved to make the most of the present occasion. The 
 entire league that was forming against England had France for its 
 foundation, or rather for its heart; accordingly, so early as the begin- 
 ning of the year 1776, the Congress had sent Silas Deane to reside 
 near the French government, in order to penetrate its intentions 
 respecting America. He was instructed to neglect no efforts to dis- 
 pose minds in her favor, and to obtain immediately all the succours 
 of arms and munitions that circumstances might admit of. He acquitted 
 himself of his mission with extreme diligence, especially in what 
 related to the material part. He succeeded in obtaining supplies 
 from private companies as well as from individual contractors, among 
 whom should be mentioned Car on de Beaumarchais, who manifested 
 in this transaction an activity no less advantageous to himself, than to 
 the Americans. These arms and warlike stores were openly shipped 
 in American vessels, or privately put on board those of France. 
 Silas Deane did more > he found means to obtain them from the royal 
 arsenals. They delivered him fifteen thousand muskets, which he 
 hastened to expedite for America, where they were of essential utility. 
 He treated with all those French gentlemen who were desirous of 
 serving under the standard of Washington, but not always to the satis- 
 faction of Congress, who sometimes could not confirm the conditions, 
 or even the choice of persons, made by their envoy. 
 
BOOK Til. THE AMERICAN WAR. 387 
 
 But independence being declared, and military operations having 
 taken an alarming turn, the Congress had thought it expedient to send 
 men of greater authority, that a solemn embassy, worthy to represent 
 the republic, might bear to the king, Lewis XVI, the homage of their 
 singular attachment and respect. They wished, especially, that, by 
 the agency of these new ministers, what was only a simple desire, 
 might be rendered an efficacious will, and that the effect should finally 
 follow the intention. Accordingly, in their sitting of the twenty-sixth 
 of September, they appointed commissioners to the court of France, 
 Franklin, Jefferson and Deane, all men of singular address, and 
 excellent judgment. But Jefferson having excused himself, he was 
 replaced by Arthur Lee. Their instructions were, to continue to 
 procure arms and munitions; to obtain permission from the govern- 
 ment to fit out in the French ports, at the expense of the United States, 
 a number of ships of war, in order to harass the commerce of England; 
 and finally, to use all proper means to induce the court of France to 
 conclude a treaty of alliance, of which the Congress had communi- 
 cated the plan to their commissioners. They were also directed to 
 solicit a loan of ten millions of francs, or at least of six, and even of 
 four, in case they should not be able to obtain more. But, above all 
 things, they were to endeavor to procure the recognition of the inde- 
 pendence of the United States. The Congress, knowing that what 
 caused the indecision of foreign princes on this point, was the fear 
 that the Americans might abandon them all at once, after having 
 engaged them to espouse their cause, and return to their ancient sub- 
 mission, enjoined it upon their commissioners to exert all their endea- 
 vors to persuade his most Christian majesty that the United States 
 - would never again come under the sceptre of the king bf England ; 
 that the confidence he might deign to place in their efforts and con- 
 stancy, should not in any time be deceived; that there never should 
 be granted to the English any exclusive traffic, or any commercial 
 advantages and privileges greater than those that should be conceded 
 to the subjects of France. The Congress proposed, besides, that, in 
 case of war between France and Great Britain, the United States 
 and France should reciprocally obligate themselves to communicate 
 to each other the negotiations of peace that might take place, in order 
 that each party might, if so disposed, participate therein. The com- 
 missioners were ordered to solicit a new supply of twenty or thirty 
 thousand muskets, with a certain quantity of artillery, and abundant 
 munitions, all to be conveyed to America in French vessels, but at 
 the expense of the United States. Finally, that the hopes of advan- 
 tages to be derived from an alliance with the Americans, might be 
 seconded by the fear of the detriment that would result from their 
 reunion with England, the Congress strictly charged their envoys to 
 give out that notwithstanding the good will of the United States, they 
 would not be able unassisted, to hold out for any length of time against 
 
388 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 the greatly superior power of Great Britain ; that therefore it was to 
 be feared, if they were abandoned to themselves, that they would be 
 forced to submit, and that the British government would gain by con- 
 quest what would never have been yielded by consent. Then, as to 
 Spain, in order to remove the apprehensions she might have con- 
 ceived of a revolt in her colonies, the commissioner* were authorised 
 to assure her by the most energetic protestations, and to persuade 
 her, that the Spanish colonies should, in no event, ever receive any 
 molestation from the United States. Finally, it was prescribed them 
 to use all vigilance, in order to discover whether the British cabinet 
 had opened any new negotiations in Europe for subsidising still other 
 mercenary troops to be sent against America; and in such case they 
 were to endeavor to obtain the interference of France, to defeat so 
 pernicious a design. 
 
 Furnished vvitli these instructions, the American envoys commenced 
 their voyage. Franklin arrived at Nantz the thirteenth of December, 
 and a few days after, at Paris. For a long time there had not 
 appeared in this city a man more venerable or more venerated, as 
 well in consideration of his age, which already exceeded seventy 
 years, as for the superiority of his genius, the vast extent of his 
 knowledge, and the brilliant renown of his virtues. At no epoch, 
 perhaps, have the French, naturally so fond of novelties, manifested 
 an equal expectation. Their conversations, their writings, even their 
 thoughts, appeared to have no other object but the cause of America. 
 It found among them only admirers and zealous partisans. Accord- 
 ingly, from the moment the American envoy was arrived in their 
 capital, his person, his actions, his words, his opinions, became the 
 object of public, curiosity. Nor can it be denied that he assumed 
 with sagacity a demeanor well suited to the situation of his country 
 and to his own. He presented himself in every place as the citizen 
 of an unfortunate country, reduced to extremities by the cruelty of 
 Englarvd. Who could remark his hoary locks, and tottering walk, 
 without reflecting that this aged man had traversed an immense 
 ocean to recommend the cause of his country to those who were able 
 to embrace its defence ? ' Never before,' it was exclaimed, ' has so 
 meritorious a work been proposed to French generosity ; France is 
 the refuge of the unfortunate, the protectress of the oppressed. The 
 war waged by England against her colonies is impious and barbarous; 
 the blood she sheds, is innocent blood ; it is only by the tutelary 
 assistance of our king that the Americans can hope to be extricated 
 from their cruel embarrassments, and to enjoy at length a secure and 
 tranquil existence.' Franklin soon made choice of a retreat at 
 Passy, situated near Paris ; he appeared to deplore in this retirement 
 the misfortunes of America. A rumor got abroad, and perhaps it 
 was purposely circulated, that the British government, taking umbrage 
 at his presence, had demanded of the court of France that he should 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 389 
 
 be sent away. Hence that compassion which is naturally felt for 
 persecuted virtue, was excited among all classes. He became the 
 object of a still more eager curiosity. Whether accompanied by 
 several of his countrymen, cruelly banished or proscribed by the 
 English government, he appeared in the public walks, or whether he 
 presented himself in places of public or private resort, or in the 
 meetings of the literary academies, the multitude thronged to get sight 
 of him. In all places the portraits of Franklin were exhibited; 
 they represented him with a venerable countenance, and dressed, as 
 usual, in rather a singular costume, the more to attract attention. 
 He lived at Passy in a certain style of simplicity, much resembling 
 that of the ancient philosophers. His humorous sayings, and grave 
 aphorisms, caused many to compare him to Socrates. The name of 
 Franklin was upon the lips of every body; and the mode, which so 
 often in France directs public attention upon vain frivolities, had this 
 time attached itself to an object worthy of all the consideration of 
 the observer. 
 
 But the politic sage, however he might have been gratified in 
 having drawn upon himself and upon his country the attention and 
 interest of a people so renowned for the gentleness of their manners, 
 desired to obtain more real advantages. Employing as much dexte- 
 rity as mystery, he visited the ministers assiduously, and availed 
 himself of the distinguished reception he found with them, to promote 
 the interests of his constituents. His efforts were crowned with the 
 most rapid success ; and the moment appeared already at hand, when 
 France would no longer dissemble the vigorous cooperation she had 
 determined to afford the Americans. 
 
 But, in the meantime, fortune had shown herself so unpropitious 
 to the Americans in New York and New Jersey, that even the capital 
 of the confederation was in great danger of falling into the hands of 
 the victor. The Congress became apprehensive that when this 
 disastrous intelligence should arrive in Europe, it might have a fatal 
 influence upon the negotiations opened by their envoys with the 
 governments of France and of Spain ; and that the interest they had 
 hitherto manifested in favor of America, might be totally extinguished. 
 The Congress therefore determined to renew their protestations to 
 the courts of Versailles and Madrid, and with more energy than 
 before, to assure them that the Americans would persist in their 
 enterprise at all hazards ; and at the same time to suggest to these 
 powers that the advantages they would derive from their cooperation 
 should be more considerable than had been promised them at first. 
 The envoys of Congress were instructed to use all their endeavors 
 that France should declare herself against England, by attacking the 
 electorate of Hanover, or any other part of the British possessions, 
 as well in Europe as in the East or West Indies. To arrive at this 
 object, they were ordered to promise the most Christian king, that if 
 
390 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 his majesty consented to break with Great Britain, the United States 
 would join their forces with his to effect the conquest of the island of 
 Newfoundland and of Cape Breton ; that the subjects of the British 
 king, as weli as those of every other power, should be forever 
 excluded from the cod fishery upon these banks, so that the French 
 and the Americans only should have the right to carry it on ; that the 
 king of France should possess in absolute property the half of the 
 island of Newfoundland, provided he would furnish the United States 
 with the naval forces necessary to subdue the province of Nova 
 Scotia ; and that this province, as well as the remaining part of New- 
 foundland, and the island of Cape Breton, should belong to the 
 American republic. If these offers proved insufficient to decide 
 France, they were to propose further, that the United States were 
 ready to consent that all the English islands of the West Indies that 
 should be conquered in the course of the war by the joint forces of 
 France and America, should become the entire property of his most 
 Christian majesty, and moreover, to effectuate these different con- 
 quests, that the Americans would furnish provisions at their own 
 expense to the value of two millions of dollars, as also six frigates, 
 completely rigged and equipped, ready for sea ; in a word, that they 
 would deport themselves in all respects as good and faithful allies. 
 Finally, they were authorised to stipulate that all the commerce 
 which should in future be carried on between the United States and 
 the French West Indies, should be exercised exclusively by the 
 vessels belonging to the subjects of his most Christian majesty, or to 
 the citizens of the United States. As to the king of Spain, the 
 Congress proposed to engage, in case he would declare war against 
 Great Britain, to assist him in reducing the city and port of Pensa- 
 cola ; they offered, besides, to conclude with him a treaty of alliance 
 and coihmerce, similar to that which had been proposed to the king 
 of France. The Americans added, that in case it was true, as it was 
 already reported, that the king of Portugal had driven from his ports 
 with outrage, or confiscated their vessels, the United States would 
 immediately declare war against him, if such was the desire of the 
 courts of France and of Spain. The Congress extended their views 
 still further ; they sent commissioners to the courts of Vienna, of 
 Berlin, and of Tuscany, in all which they had recognised a sincere 
 interest for the cause of America. They desired that these sove- 
 reigns should be persuaded of the determination of the United States 
 to maintain their independence. Their agents were ordered, espe- 
 cially to exert themselves with assiduity, in order to induce the 
 emperor of Germany and the king of Prussia to interfere in behalf 
 of America to prevent new levies of German or Russian troops, to 
 its prejudice. They had it also in charge to propose to the court of 
 Berlin a treaty of commerce and amity, provided it was perfectly 
 agreeable to the kings of France and of Spain. Such were the 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 391 
 
 resolutions adopted by the Congress to confirm the state, threatened, 
 in its infancy, with approaching ruin. But the assiduity with which 
 they prosecuted their political negotiations, in no degree diminished 
 the vigor of their military preparations. They not only manifested 
 no disposition to abandon the design of independence, and come to 
 an arrangement with England, but it is also seen that they made no 
 proposition to the foreign powers that was either demonstrative of 
 despair, or unworthy of a state enjoying the entire plenitude of its 
 force and of its freedom. Certain members of Congress, it is true, 
 proposed resolutions that denoted less confidence and firmness ; one, 
 for example, was disposed to authorise the commissioners at the court 
 of France to transfer in favor of that power the absolute monopoly 
 of commerce which had been enjoyed by England ; another suggest- 
 ed that France should be offered the exclusive commerce of certain 
 articles ; others, finally, proposed a treaty of alliance offensive and 
 defensive. But the fortune of the republic prevailed, w^iich had 
 reserved it a higher destiny. All these propositions were rejected 
 by ihe wiser and more numerous part of the members of Congress. 
 It was evident that if they had been adopted, they might have been 
 considered as a tacit avowal of the desperate state of affairs, and 
 must consequently have produced an effect directly contrary to that 
 which their authors expected from them. Besides, France had quite 
 other and far more cogent motives for breaking with England, and 
 such as would suffice to induce her to take this resolution, provided 
 the Americans only manifested a determination to combat to the last 
 with unshaken constancy. 
 
 The instructions sent by the Congress to their commissioners, 
 were intercepted by the English, who caused them to be published. 
 This gave the Congress no regret ; they had no doubt that such an 
 evidence of their unalterable resolution to maintain their independ- 
 ence, in ihe midst of so many reverses, would convince the Euro- 
 pean princes who desired the dismemberment of the British empire, 
 that it was time to declare themselves, unless they were willing to 
 see the resistance of the Americans rendered fruitless by the inferi- 
 ority of their forces, and the conquest of their country. 
 
 But whatever was the constancy of Congress, or the attraction of 
 their proposals to foreign sovereigns, they could little expect that, in 
 so deplorable a state of their affairs, they would consent to espouse 
 the cause of the Americans ; it being but too natural, in policy, to 
 abandon those who appear to be sinking. Words little avail, when 
 they are unsupported by arms and the smiles of fortune. But she 
 had shown herself so hostile to America towards the conclusion of 
 the present year, as to render it but too probable that two or three 
 cold nights, by freezing the waters of the Delaware, would place in 
 the power of the English, in spite of all the Americans could do to 
 prevent it, the capital of the entire confederation. And even if the 
 
392 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII, 
 
 cold should not prove so rigorous as was usual at this season, the 
 army of Washington, already so weak, would be dissolved with the 
 expiration of the engagement of the soldiers, at the end of the year. 
 Nor could it be expected, that in so much adversity new recruits 
 would come forward to replace the disbanded troops. In this stale 
 of things, the best that could be expected was, that after the entire 
 submission of the more open provinces, the miserable fragments of the 
 American army would seek refuge in the strongest places, in the 
 forests and inaccessible mountains, when a partisan war would com- 
 mence, that could have no decisive effect upon the fi;ial issue of the 
 war. But Washington was not discouraged ; and before the coming 
 of severe frost, or the departure of the greater part of his soldiers 
 deprived him of all power, he resolved by a bold and well directed 
 movement, to make a new trial of the fortune of the republic, by 
 attacking a strong and victorious enemy, who was far from suspecting 
 that he could have the thought of such an attempt. An heroic reso- 
 lution, for which posterity ought to bear him an eternal gratitude ! 
 From this moment, the war suddenly assumed a new face, and 
 victory began at length to incline in favor of the Americans. 
 
 Washington had observed that general Howe, either to procure 
 more commodious quarters for his troops in this rigorous season, or 
 to impede the Americans in recruiting, or finally because he believed 
 the war at an end, and his enemy no longer in a condition to act, 
 had too far extended the wings of his army, which occupied the 
 entire province of New Jersey and the left bank of the Delaware, 
 from Trenton down to Burlington. Colonel Ralle, a Hessian officer 
 of great merit, was cantoned in the first of these places, with his 
 brigade of infantry and a detachment of English dragoons, the whole 
 constituting a corps of fourteen or fifteen hundred men. Borden- 
 town, a few miles below, was occupied by colonel Donop, with 
 another brigade of Hessians ; and still lower down within twenty 
 miles of Philadelphia, was stationed another corps of Hessians and 
 English. Knowing the extreme weakness of their enemy, and 
 holding him as it were degraded by his recent defeats, .they kept 
 & negligent guard. The rest of the army was lodged in places 
 more distant, and principally at Princeton, at New Brunswick, arid 
 at Alnboy. Washington having attentively considered the extent of 
 the enemy's quarters, conceived the hope of surprising the corps 
 that were nearest to the river, and too remote from the others to be 
 succoured in season. In order to make his attack with more order 
 and effect, he divided his army, which consisted almost entirely in 
 the militia of Pennsylvania and Virginia, into three corps, the first 
 and most considerable of which was to pass the Delaware at Mac- 
 kenky's Ferry, about nine miles above Trenton. The commander- 
 in-chief, accompanied by generals Sullivan and Greene, had reserved 
 to himself the conduct of this corps, to which a few pieces of artillery 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 393 
 
 were attached. It was destined to attack Trenton. The second 
 division, under the command of general Irwin, was directed to cross 
 at Trenton Ferry, about a mile below the village of this name, and 
 having reached the left bank, to seize without loss of time, the bridge 
 over the little river Assumpink, in order to intercept the retreat of 
 the enemy when he should be dislodged from Trenton by the divi- 
 sion under Washington. Finally, the third corps, commanded by 
 general Cadvvallader, was ordered to pass the river at Bristol, and 
 proceed to take post at Burlington. The night of Christmas was 
 appointed for the expedition. The dispositions being made accord- 
 ing to the plan above mentioned, the Americans proceeded with 
 admirable order and silence towards the Delaware. The chiefs 
 exhorted their soldiers to be firm and valiant, to wash out the stains 
 of Long Island, of New York, and of New Jersey ; they represented 
 to them the necessity, the glory, and the brilliant fruits of victory ; 
 they incessantly reminded them that this night was about to decide 
 the fate of their country. An extreme ardor manifested itself 
 throughout the ranks. The three columns arrived in the dusk of 
 evening at the bank of the river. Washington had hoped that the 
 passage of the troops, and transportation of the artillery, might have 
 been effectuated before midnight, so as to have time to reach the 
 destined points by break of day, and to surprise the enemy at 
 Trenton. But the cold was so intense, and the river so obstructed 
 with floating ice, that it was impossible to cross and to land the 
 artillery earlier than four in the morning. All the troops having at 
 length gained the left bank, the first corps was parted into two divi- 
 sions, one of which, turning to the right, marched towards Trenton, 
 by the road which runs along the river ; the other, guided by Wash- 
 ington in person, took the upper or Pennington road. The distance, 
 by either route, being nearly equal, it was hoped that the two columns 
 might arrive at the same time. It was enjoined them to engage in 
 combat without any delay, and after having driven in the outposts, to 
 fall immediately upon the main body of 4he enemy, at Trenton, 
 without giving him time to recover from his surprise. They ex- 
 erted all their efforts to arrive before day ; but a thick fog, and a 
 mist mingled with sleet, which rendered the road slippery, retarded 
 their march. The two divisions, however, reached Trenton at eight 
 o'clock. Notwithstanding so many obstacles, and the hour already 
 so late, the Hessians of colonel Ralle had no suspicion of the ap- 
 proach of the enemy. 
 
 The Americans having, therefore, fallen unexpectedly upon the 
 advanced guards, routed them immediately. Colonel Ralle sent his 
 regknent to their succour, in order to sustain the first shock, and to 
 give time for the rest of his forces to arrange themselves for defence. 
 But the first line involved the second in disorder, and both fell back 
 tumultuously upon Trenton. Colonel Ralle having hastily drawn 
 VOL. i. 50 
 
394 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Vll. 
 
 out his Hessians, advanced to encounter the enemy in the open 
 field ; but he was mortally wounded in the first onset, and the 
 Americans charging the Germans with great fury, the latter betook 
 themselves to flight, leaving upon the field six pieces of light artillery. 
 They attempted to escape by the road of Princeton, but Washington 
 percejving it, despatched several companies to preoccupy the way, 
 who received the fugitives in front. Thus, surrounded on every 
 side, the three German regiments of Ralle, of Anspach, and of 
 Knyphausen, were constrained to lay down arms and surrender at 
 discretion. Some few, and chiefly cavalry or light infantry, in all 
 not exceeding five hundred men, succeeded in effecting their escape 
 by the lower road which leads to Bordentown. Another detachment 
 of Hessians, who were out this same morning upon a foraging excur- 
 sion, at some distance from their camp, warned by the noise, and after- 
 wards by the flight of their countrymen, retired precipitately to 
 Princeton. General Irwin had exerted his utmost endeavors to pass 
 the river at the time prescribed, in order to take part in the action ; 
 but the floating ice was so accumulated, in this part of the river, as 
 to render the passage absolutely impracticable. This part of the 
 Hessians, therefore, had the facility of retiring in safety to Borden- 
 town. General Cadwallader was not more fortunate in the attempt 
 he made to cross lower down, and to take post at Burlington, pursu- 
 ant to the plan of attack. When a part of his infantry had reached 
 the left bank, it was found impossible to advance with the artillery ; 
 unable, therefore, to act with any effect, and finding himself in a 
 perilous situation, he repassed to the right bank of the Delaware. 
 Thus the design of the commander-in-chief was accomplished only 
 in part ; but the event demonstrated, that if the rigorous cold of this 
 night had not prevented its entire execution, all the royal troops that 
 were stationed in the vicinity of the river, would have been sur- 
 rounded and taken. The loss of the Hessians, in killed and wounded, 
 amounted only to thirty or forty, but the number of prisoners was at 
 first upwards of nine hundred, and even exceeded a thousand, when 
 all those were collected who had concealed themselves in the houses. 
 After having obtained this success, Washington paused ; not willing 
 to lose by imprudence the advantages he owed to the wisdom of his 
 measures. His forces were not sufficient to cope with those which 
 the English generals could have assembled in a few hours. A strong 
 corps of light infantry was quartered at Princeton, a town only a 
 few miles distant from Trenton ; to this might easily have been 
 joined the brigade of Donop, and other battalions that were cantoned 
 in the neighboring places. The Americans consequently evacuated 
 Trenton, and passed over to the right bank of the river, with their 
 prisoners, and the trophies of their victory. Their generals resolved 
 to make the most of it, in order to revive the courage and confidence 
 of the dispirited people. They caused the captive Hessians to 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 395 
 
 defile, with a sort of triumphal pomp, through the streets of Phila- 
 delphia, followed by their arms and banners. And yet such was the 
 terror inspired by the very name of these Germans, that even at the 
 moment in which they traversed the city as vanquished and prison- 
 ers, many of the inhabitants suspected it was only a stratagem of 
 their own leaders to animate them ; so impossible it seemed to them 
 that warriors from Germany should have been overcome by Ameri- 
 can soldiers. The English appeared to them far less formidable, 
 because they knew them. Man is naturally disposed to fear most 
 those objects of which he has the least knowledge ; the uncouth 
 language, the novel manners, and even the dress of the German 
 soldiers, inspired a certain dread. But when they were satisfied that 
 the spectacle they beheld was not an illusion, words cannot describe 
 their exultation at so unexpected a success ; having at first rated the 
 Hessians far above the English, they now held them as much below. 
 And, in effect, this affair of Trenton had so changed the face of 
 things, that the public rnind was rapidly elevated from despondency 
 to an extreme confidence. The English themselves could not re- 
 mark without astonishment this sudden metamorphosis in an enemy 
 whom they considered as already vanquished and quelled. They 
 were unable to conceive how troops of such high renown had been 
 compelled to lay down arms before militia, hastily collected, ill pro- 
 vided with arms, and totally devoid of discipline. Hence, as it 
 happens in reverses, suspicions, reproaches, and accusations arose 
 on all parts. It was vociferated that the English general had too far 
 extended his quarters ; that colonel Ralle had committed an impru- 
 dence, finding himself the weaker, in marching out of his quarters to 
 charge the enemy ; that he had, besides, neglected his guard ; and 
 that his soldiers, instead of being at their posts, were gone out in 
 quest of plunder. However this might have been, the entire British 
 army put itself in motion ; colonel Donop, trembling for himself and 
 for his corps, retired with precipitation, by the way of Amboy, to 
 unite with general Leslie at Princeton ; and general Grant, who 
 with the main body of the army occupied New Brunswick, advanced 
 upon Princeton to join the vanguard, stationed at that place. Lord 
 Cornwallis himself, who was then at New York, on the point of 
 embarking for England, at the news of this fatal event, returned with 
 the utmost expedition into New Jersey. /But the Americans felt 
 their courage revive ; on all parts they ran to arms, and the forces 
 of Washington were so increased that he conceived the design of 
 more extensive operations, and thought himself in a situation to 
 attempt an expedition upon the frontiers -of New Jersey. Accord- 
 ingly, he ordered general Cadwallader to pass the Delaware, and 
 take a strong position upon the left bank ; but to advance with ex- 
 treme caution, and to avoid unexpected rencounters. General 
 Mifflin, with a considerable corps of Pennsylvania militia, had joined 
 
396 THE AMERICAN VVAll. BOOK VII. 
 
 general Irwin, and they both crossed the river. Washington himself 
 followed them immediately, and concentrated all his troops at Tren- 
 ton. Here the militia of New England, whose term of service was 
 expired, were inclined to quit the army, and go to their homes ; but 
 the instances of their generals, and a bounty of ten dollars, induced 
 the greater part of them to remain. The English, who had assem- 
 bled in great strength in Princeton, resolved to lose no time, but to 
 go and attack Washington in his quarters at Trenton, before he 
 should receive new reenforcements ; they also hoped that the expi- 
 ration of engagements would greatly reduce the number of his 
 soldiers. 
 
 1777. The second of January, lord Cornwallis marched with the 
 vanguard towards Trenton, where he arrived about four in the morn- 
 ing. The rear guard was posted at Maidenhead, a village situated 
 half way between Princeton and Trenton ; other regiments were on 
 the march from New Brunswick, to reenforce the principal army. 
 Washington, finding the enemy in such force, and so near, retired 
 behind the river of Trenton, also called the Assumpink, where he 
 set about intrenching himself, having first secured the bridge. The 
 English attempted the passage at various points, but every where 
 without success ; all the fords being diligently guarded. A cannon- 
 ade was engaged, which produced little effect, though it lasted until 
 night ; the Americans stood firm in their intrenchments. Cornwallis 
 waited for reenforcements, intending to advance to the assault the 
 day following ; but his adversary was not disposed to put so much 
 at stake. On the other hand, to repass the Delaware, then more 
 than ever obstructed with floating ice. in the presence of a formida- 
 ble enemy, was too perilous an operation to be attempted without 
 temerity. Washington therefore found himself anew in a very criti- 
 cal position ; but it was then that he embraced a resolution remark- 
 able for its intrepidity. Reflecting that he was advanced too far to 
 be able to retreat without manifest danger, he determined to abandon 
 all at once the banks of the Delaware, and to carry the war into the 
 very heart of New Jersey. He considered that Cornwallis, in all 
 probability, would apprehend being cut off from the province of New 
 York, and fearing besides for the magazines at New Brunswick, 
 which were' abundantly stocked for the service of the whole British 
 army, would himself also retire from the river ; and thus the city of 
 Philadelphia would be preserved, a great part of New Jersey reco- 
 vered, and defensive war changed into offensive ; advantages which 
 could not but animate the inhabitants with new courage. If the 
 English general persisted in his design, he passed the river, indeed 
 without obstacle, and became master of Philadelphia. But whatever 
 were to be the effects of this disastrous event, it was better to aban- 
 don Philadelphia, and preserve the army entire, than to lose at the 
 same time both the one and the other. This plan having been 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 397 
 
 approved in a council of war, composed of all the generals of the 
 army, dispositions were immediately commenced for carrying it 
 promptly into effect. The baggage was *sent down to Burlington ; 
 and at one o'clock in the morning, the enemy appearing perfectly 
 tranquil, the Americans rekindled the fires of their camp, and leav- 
 ing guards at the bridge and fords, with orders to continue the usual 
 rounds and patrols, they defiled with equal promptitude and silence. 
 Taking the road of Allentown, which is the longest, in order to 
 avoid the Assumpink, and the encounter of the enemy at Maiden- 
 head, they proceeded towards Princeton. Three English regiments 
 had lodged there this same night ; two of them, at break of day, 
 had renewed their march for Maidenhead. The Americans suddenly 
 appeared and charged them with great impetuosity. But the Eng- 
 lish defended themselves so vigorously, that the American militia, 
 faced about, and retired in disorder. General Mercer in attempting 
 to rally them, was mortally wounded. Washington seeing the rout 
 of the vanguard, and perfectly aware that the loss of the day would 
 involve the total ruin of his army, immediately advanced at the head 
 of his select corps, composed of the conquerors of Trenton, and 
 restored the battle. The two English regiments overwhelmed by 
 the number and fury of the assailants, were separated, the one from 
 the other, and found themselves in the most perilous position. Colo- 
 nel Mawhood, who commanded one of them, after having intrepidly 
 sustained the attack for some moments, made a violent effort, and 
 opening his way with the bayonet through the ranks of the enemy, 
 retired in safety to Maidenhead. The other, which formed the rear 
 guard, finding itself, after a vigorous struggle, unable to follow the 
 first, returned by the way of Hillsborough to New Brunswick. The 
 third, which was found still at Princeton, retreated also, after a light 
 conflict, with great precipitation to Brunswick. About one hundred 
 of the English were killed in this affair, and upwards of three hun- 
 dred made prisoners. The loss of the Americans in slain, was 
 nearly equal ; but of this number was general Mercer, an able and 
 experienced officer of the province of Virginia. He was universally 
 regretted, but especially by Washington, who bore him great esteem 
 and affection. 
 
 After the combat, the Americans occupied Princeton. At break 
 of day, lord Cornwallis having perceived that the Americans had 
 deserted their camp of Trenton, and soon penetrating what was" 
 their design, abandoned in like manner his own, and marched with 
 all expedition towards Brunswick, fearing, lest the baggage and 
 munitions he had accumulated there, should fall into the hands of 
 the enemy. He arrived at Princeton almost at the same time with 
 the American rear guard. Washington, found himself again in 
 imminent danger. His soldiers fell with sleep, having taken no 
 repose for the two preceding days ; hunger tormented them, and 
 
398 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 they were almost naked in this rigorous season. The enemy who 
 pursued them, besides the advantage of number, had every thing in 
 abundance. Thus situated, far from the hope of continuing to act 
 offensively, it was much for him if he could retire without loss to a 
 place of security ; wherefore, departing abruptly from Princeton, he 
 moved with rapidity towards the upper and mountainous parts of 
 New Jersey. To retard the enemy, he destroyed the bridges over 
 the Millstone river, which runs between Princeton and Brunswick. 
 Having afterwards passed the Rariton, a more considerable river, he 
 proceeded to occupy Pluckernin, where his troops refreshed them- 
 selves, after so many toils and sufferings. But soon finding that his 
 army was too feeble, and also that it was daily diminished by mala- 
 dies and desertion, he resolved to encamp higher up, and in a place 
 of more security. After necessity had constrained him to make trial 
 of fortune by adventurous feats, he was disposed to become again 
 the master of his movements, and to take counsel of prudence alone. 
 He retired, accordingly, to Morristown, in upper Jersey. Cornwal- 
 lis, despairing of being able to continue the pursuit with success, 
 directed his march to New Brunswick, where he found general 
 Matthews, who, in the violence of his terror, had commenced the 
 removal of the baggage and warlike stores. But Washington, hav- 
 ing received the few fresh battalions of infantry, and his little army 
 being recovered from .their fatigues, soon entered the field anew, 
 and scoured the whole country as far as the Rariton. He even 
 crossed this river, and penetrating into the county of Essex, made 
 himself master of Newark, of Elizabethtown, and, finally, of Wood- 
 bridge ; so that he commanded the entire coast of New Jersey, in 
 front of Staten Island. He so judiciously selected his positions, and 
 fortified them so formidably, that the royalists shrunk from all attempt 
 to dislodge him from any of them. Thus the British army, after 
 having overrun victoriously the whole of New Jersey, quite to the 
 Delaware, and caused even the city of Philadelphia to tremble for 
 its safety, found itself now restricted to the two only posts of New 
 Brunswick and Arnboy, which, moreover, could have no communi- 
 cation with New York, except by sea. Thus by an army almost 
 reduced to extremity, Philadelphia was saved, Pennsylvania pro- 
 tected, New Jersey nearly recovered, and a victorious and powerful 
 enemy laid under the necessity of quitting all thoughts of acting 
 offensively, in order to defend himself. 
 
 Achievements so astonishing acquired an immense glory for the 
 captain-general of the United States. All nations shared in the sur- 
 prise of the Americans ; all equally admired and applauded the 
 prudence, the constancy, and the noble intrepidity of general Wash- 
 ington. An unanimous voice pronounced him the savior of his 
 country ; all extolled him as equal to the most celebrated command- 
 ers of antiquity ; all proclaimed him the Fabius of America. His 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 399 
 
 name was in the mouth of all ; he was celebrated by the pens of the 
 most distinguished writers. The most illustrious personages of Eu- 
 rope lavished upon him their praises and their congratulations. The 
 American general, therefore, wanted neither a cause full of grandeur 
 to defend, nor occasion for the acquisition of glory, nor genius to 
 avail himself of it, nor the renown due to his tiiuraphs, nor an entire 
 generation of men perfectly well disposed to render him homage. 
 
 Reposing new confidence in their general, and having seen that it 
 was his arm which had retrieved the public fortune, the Congress 
 decreed that in all councils of war, Washington should not be bound 
 by the plurality of voices, nor by the opinion of the general officers 
 he might think proper to consult. They even preferred that in all 
 circumstances he should take such resolutions as might appear to 
 him the most likely to prove advantageous. The Congress immedi- 
 ately after returned to Philadelphia, with a view of encouraging the 
 people still more. There passed nothing of importance during the 
 rest of the winter and the greater part of the spring, with the excep- 
 tion of some skirmishes, of which the usual effect was to harass and 
 fatigue the English army, and to inspire the Americans with greater 
 confidence in themselves. The royal troops, as we have said, were 
 locked up in the two villages of Brunswick arid Amboy, whence they 
 rarely ventured to make excursions; they could not go out to plunder, 
 nor even to forage, without extreme peril. Not only the soldiers of 
 Washington, but even the inhabitants of New Jersey, transported with 
 rage at the shocking excesses committed by the English, and espe- 
 cially by the Hessians, prepared frequont ambuscades for these pre- 
 datory bands, and exterminated them by surprise. Those who could 
 not bear arms, performed the office of spies, so that whenever the 
 royalists made a movement, the republicans were apprised of it, and 
 prepared to oppose it. This sudden change in the disposition of the 
 inhabitants, who after the occupation of New York, had shown them- 
 selves so favorable to the royal cause, must be attributed entirely to 
 the unheard of ferocity with which the English carried on the war. 
 An universal cry was heard in America against the cruelties, the 
 massacres, the rapes, and the ravages, perpetrated by their soldiers. 
 And even supposing that their crimes were exaggerated, the truth is 
 still but too horrible. The Hessians, as if they had believed them- 
 selves released from all respect for humanity and justice, knew no 
 other mode of making war but that of carrying devastation into the 
 midst, of all the property, whether public or private, of their adversa- 
 ries. It was published at the time, that the Germans had been taught 
 to believe, that all the lands they could conquer in America should 
 become their own property, which led them to consider the possess- 
 ors of them as their natural enemies, whom they were bound to 
 exterminate in every possible mode. But, that finding themselves 
 not likely to profit by this expectation, they set about plundering and 
 
 | 
 
* 
 
 400 THE AMERICAN WAR, BOOK Vlf, 
 
 destroying whatever they could lay their hands upon. It was also 
 affirmed, that this rapacious soldiery had so burthened themselves 
 with booty, as to become almost incapable of service. The violent 
 hatred which the Americans manifested for the Hessians, rendered 
 them but the more outrageous in their depredations. Men accustomed 
 to liberty, could not behold without abhorrence these brutal merce- 
 naries, c who, not content,' they said, ' with submitting to be slaves in 
 their own country, are willing, for a few pence, to become the instru- 
 ments of tyranny with others, and come to interfere in a domestic 
 quarrel, in which they have no interest.' ' Why,' added the Ameri- 
 cans, { have they left their homes in the old world to contribute in the 
 new to the butchery of' an innocent and generous people, who had 
 never offended them ; who, on the contrary, had exercised a noble 
 hospitality towards a multitude of their ancestors, who sought refuge 
 from a tyranny similar to what their countrymen were now attempt- 
 ing to establish in America ?' This language did but the more exas- 
 perate the Germans; they manifested their fury by the most atrocious 
 actions. It was a terrible and lamentable spectacle, to behold these 
 fertile fields covered with ashes and with ruins. Friends and foes, 
 republicans and loyalists, all shared a common fate. Wives and 
 daughters suffered violence in the houses, and even before the 
 eyes of their husbands and fathers ; many fled into the forests ; 
 but could find no refuge even there from the brutal rage of these 
 barbarians, who pursued them. The houses were either burnt or 
 demolished ; the cattle either driven off or killed ; nothing escaped 
 their thirst of devastation. The Hessian general Heister, far from 
 endeavoring to repress this licentious soldiery, seemed to have given 
 them a free rein. The English general wished, but had not the 
 power, to curb them. The Hessians were as numerous as the Eng- 
 lish themselves, and it was not thought prudent to offend them. 
 Their example became infectious for the British troops, and they 
 were soon found to vie with the Germans in all the scenes of violence, 
 outrage, cruelty, and plunder. New Jersey presented only the ves- 
 tiges of havoc and desolation. Complaints arose from all parts of 
 America ; and they were echoed throughout Europe, to the heavy 
 reproach of England. Among the indignant nations, the French 
 were especially distinguished ; naturally humane, enemies to the 
 English, and partisans of the Americans. It was exclaimed every 
 where, that the English government had revived in the new world the 
 fury of the Goths, and the barbarity of the northern Hordes. But 
 so much immanity returned upon its source, and became more fatal 
 to its authors than to their victims. The few remaining friends that 
 England had, became enemies, and her enemies were filled with 
 new hatred, and a more vehement desire of vengeance. 
 
 Citizens of all classes flew to arms with a sort of rage, to expel 
 rom their territory, as they said, these infamous robbers. Thus the 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 401 
 
 excesses of the royal army were not less, and perhaps more, preju- 
 dicial to the British cause than even the efforts of Washington and 
 the resolutions of Congress. But it must be admitted, that this ardor 
 of pillage had also contaminated the American army. The houses 
 and property of the unfortunate inhabitants of New Jersey were 
 sacked under pretext that they belonged to loyalists ; the officers 
 themselves gave their soldiers the example of depredation. Thus 
 they were pillaged by the Hessians and English as rebels to the king, 
 and by the Americans as being his partisans. These excesses be- 
 came so revolting, that Washington, to whom they caused infinite 
 pain, was constrained, in order to put a stop to them, to issue a pro- 
 clamation denouncing the most rigorous penalties against the perpe- 
 trators of such enormities. 
 
 At this epoch, the loyalists manifested a spirit of revolt in the 
 counties of Somerset and Worcester, in Maryland, and in that of 
 Sussex, in the state of Delaware ; as also in the neighborhood of Al- 
 bany, and in the country of the Mohawks. Troops were sent to these 
 places, in order to overawe the disaffected ; the Congress ordered that 
 suspected persons should be arrested and detained in secure places. 
 
 About the same time, general Heath, who guarded the high lands 
 of New York, summoned Fort Independence, situated in the vicinity 
 of Kingsbridge. But the commander of the garrison answered with 
 intrepidity, and prepared himself for a vigorous resistance. The 
 Americans despairing of success by assault, abandoned the enterprise, 
 and returned to their high and inaccessible positions. 
 
 General Howe not making any movement at the commencement 
 of the year, indicative of an intention to enter the field very shortly, 
 Washington resolved to avail himself of this interval of repose to 
 deliver his army from the smallpox, a scourge so formidable in these 
 climates. It had made such terrible ravages the preceding year in 
 the army of the north, that but for the obstacles the English had 
 encountered upon the lakes, nothing would have prevented them from 
 penetrating to the Hudson. The army of the middle was threatened 
 with a similar calamity. Washington therefore judged it necessary 
 to subject all his troops, as well as the militia that joined him from 
 different parts, to a general inoculation. The affair was conducted 
 with so much prudence in the camp that no occasion was offered the 
 enemy to disturb its tranquillity. The physicians of the hospital of 
 Philadelphia were ordered at the same time, to inoculate all the sol- 
 diers who traversed that city, on their way to join the army. The 
 same precautions were taken in the other military stations, and thus 
 the army was totally exempted from an evil, which might have clrsh- 
 ed with the success of the ensuing campaign. The example of the 
 soldiery proved a signal benefit to the entire population ; the salutary 
 practice of inoculation soon became general ; and, by little and little, 
 this fatal malady disappeared entirely. 
 
 VOL. I. 51 
 
402 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Meanwhile, the month of March was near its conclusion, and the 
 defect of tents and other camp equipage which general Howe ex- 
 pected from England, had not yet permitted him to open the cam- 
 paign. He resolved, nevertheless, to attempt some expedition, which 
 might occasion a sensible prejudice to the enemy. The Americans 
 during the winter, had formed immense magazines of provisions^ 
 forage, and stores of all sorts, in that rough and mountainous tract 
 called Courtland Manor. The great natural strength of the country, 
 the vicinity of the Hudson river, with its convenience in respect to 
 the seat of war, had induced the American generals to make choice 
 of these heights for their general repository. A little town called 
 Peek's Kill, which lies about fifty miles up the river from New York, 
 served as a kind of port to this natural citadel, by which it both 
 received provisions, and dispensed supplies. As a general attempt 
 upon Courtiand Manor presented insurmountable difficulties, not only 
 from the strength of the country and impracticability of the ground, 
 but from the force of the corps that were stationed in that quarter, 
 the English general confined his views to an attack upon Peek's Kill. 
 His troops were sent on board transports up the river for this service ; 
 the Americans, upon the approach of the British armament, finding 
 themselves unequal to the defence of the place, and that there was 
 no possible time to evacuate the magazines, set fire to them, and 
 retired. The English landed without delay. The damage was 
 considerable ; but not so great as general Howe had been led to 
 expect, though greater than the Americans would acknowledge. The 
 English a few days after undertook a similar expedition, upon the 
 borders of Connecticut. The Americans had deposited large quan- 
 tities of stores and provisions in the town or village of Danbury, in 
 the county of Fairfield. The charge of this enterprise was com- 
 mitted to general Tryon ; who, besides the destruction of these 
 stores, had flattered himself with finding a junction of many loyalists 
 in that quarter, as soon as he should appear with the troops of the 
 king. He appeared not to doubt it, in consequence of the confi- 
 dence he placed in the assertions of the refugees ; always prompt to 
 believe what they strongly desire. The twenty-fifth of April, a de- 
 tachment of two thousand men, having passed through the sound, 
 landed after sun-set upon the coast of Connecticut, between Fair- 
 field and Norwalk. They advanced without interruption, and arrived 
 at Danbury the following day. Colonel Huntingdon, who occupied 
 this place with a feeble garrison, retired at the approach of the ene- 
 my, to a stronger position in the rear. As the English could pro- 
 cure no carriages, to bring off the stores and provisions, they imme- 
 diately proceeded to the destruction of the magazine. The loss was 
 serious to the American army, and particularly in the article of seve- 
 ral hundred tents, of which it had great need, and which were the 
 more regretted as the materials were wanting to replace them. The 
 loyalists made not the least movement. 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 403 
 
 Meanwhilej the whole country was in agitation. The militia, 
 eager to manifest their devotion to the republic, had assembled at 
 Reading under the banners of Congress. Arnold, who happened to 
 be in the vicinity, engaged in the business of recruiting, at the sound 
 of arms, always so grateful to his ear, had hastened to join the com- 
 panies at Reading. General Wooster, who from the immediate 
 service of Congress had passed into that of the state of Connecti- 
 cut, as brigadier-general of militia, arrived from another quarter, 
 with considerable reenforcements. All these troops were impatient 
 to engage the enemy. The English, perceiving their danger, 
 retreated with great precipitation, by the way of Ridgefield. The 
 Americans endeavored by every possible means to interrupt their 
 march, until a greater force could arrive to support them with effect 
 in the design of cutting off their retreat. General Wooster hung 
 upon the rear of the British, and using every advantage of ground, 
 harassed them exceedingly, notwithstanding they had large covering 
 parties, well furnished with field pieces, both on their flanks and 
 rear. In one of these skirmishes, Wooster, at an age approaching 
 closely to seventy, arid in the active exertion of a valor which savored 
 more of youthful temerity than of the temperance and discretion of 
 that time of life, was mortally wounded, and being carried out of the 
 field, died shortly after, with the same resolution that he had lived. 
 Filled with consternation at the loss of their commander, his soldiers 
 immediately dispersed. But in the meantime, Arnold had got pos- 
 session of Ridgefield, where he had already thrown up some sort of 
 an intrenchment, to cover his front. The English presented them- 
 selves, and a hot action ensued, which lasted a considerable time. 
 The English having carried the heights which covered the flanks of 
 the Americans, overwhelmed them with their fire. The latter were 
 immediately thrown into confusion, and notwithstanding the efforts of 
 Arnold to rally them, retired with extreme precipitation to Panga- 
 tuck, three miles from Norwalk. Tryon lay that night at Ridgefieid, 
 and having set fire to some houses, renewed his march on the morn- 
 ing of the twenty-eighth, towards the Sound. He was again' encoun- 
 tered by Arnold, who had assembled fresh troops, with some pieces 
 of artillery. Continual skirmishes took place from the one bank to 
 the other of the river Sagatuck, and a sharp contest at the bridge 
 across this stream. But, finally, the English, superior in number 
 and discipline, surmounted all obstacles, and arrived at the place 
 where their ships waited to receive them ; they were unable to 
 embark, however, without new difficulties and other combats. 
 
 The Congress decreed that a monument should be erected to 
 Wooster, and testified their satisfaction towards Arnold by the gift 
 of a horse, richly caparisoned. 
 
 This expedition, entered upon with so much parade, furnished 
 little indemnity for the expense it had occasioned. 
 
404 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 The stores destroyed, with the exception of the tents, were of 
 inconsiderable value ; and the burning of the houses of Danbury 
 and Ridgefield, together with the other brutalities committed by the 
 royal troops, did but increase the fury of the people, and confirm 
 them in resistance. This occasion served also to demonstrate, how 
 vain were the hopes which general Tryon had placed in the loyal- 
 ists. Not one of them ventured to declare himself in favor of the 
 English ; the inhabitants rose, on the contrary, in all parts to repulse 
 the assailants. It is even probable, that this enterprise of the 
 English gave origin to another, full of audacity, on the part of the 
 Americans. The generals of Connecticut had been informed that 
 a commissary of the British army had formed immense magazines 
 of forage, grain, and other necessaries for the troops, at a little port 
 called Sagg Harbor, in Long Island ; it was defended only by a 
 detachment of infantry, and a sloop of twelve guns. The English, 
 however, believed themselves sufficiently protected by their armed 
 vessels which cruised in the Sound ; they could never persuade 
 themselves that the Americans would dare to pass it, and attempt 
 any thing upon Long Island. But the latter were nowise intimidated 
 by the obstacles, and resolved to surprise Sagg Harbor, by a sudden 
 incursion. Accordingly, colonel Meigs, one of the intrepid compa- 
 nions of Arnold in the expedition of Canada, crossed the Sound with 
 as much rapidity as ability, and arrived before day at the place 
 where the magazines were situated. Notwithstanding the resistance 
 of the garrison and the crews of the vessels, he burned a dozen brigs 
 and sloops which lay at the wharf, and entirely destroyed every 
 thing on shore. Having accomplished the object of the expedition, 
 he returned without loss to Guilford, in Connecticut, bringing with 
 him many prisoners. The Americans manifested, in this enterprise, 
 the greatest humanity ; they abstained from the pillage of private 
 property, and even permitted the prisoners to retain their effects. 
 
 The winter had completely elapsed in the midst of these opera- 
 tions, and the season approached in which the armies were about to 
 take the field anew. No one doubted that the English would exert 
 their utmost endeavors to terminate the war in the present year. A 
 formidable corps was prepared to attack the American provinces on 
 the side of Canada, and a still more numerous army menaced those 
 of the middle. All minds were suspended with the expectation of 
 approaching events. 
 
 If the English generals could have commenced the campaign as 
 soon as the season for action was arrived, it is certain, they might 
 have obtained the most important advantages. When the spring 
 opened, the army of Washington was still extremely feeble. If a 
 part of those whose term of service was expired, had been induced 
 to remain from a consideration of the weakness of the army, and the 
 ruin which must attend their departure before it was reenforced, the 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 405 
 
 greater number, unable to endure the severity of winter in the fields, 
 had returned home. In the meantime, the business of recruiting 
 under an engagement to serve during the war, or even for three 
 years, went on but slowly, notwithstanding the promised advantages ; 
 the genius and habits of the people being averse to all subjection. 
 The making of draughts from the militia, which was the final re- 
 source, was considered as a dangerous innovation. 
 
 As a further check upon the increase of the force in New Jersey, 
 the New England provinces, which abounded with men of a warlike 
 spirit, were taken up with their domestic concerns, fearing forTicon- 
 deroga, the river Hudson, and even for Boston itself. A multitude 
 of American privateers had gone into that port with their prizes, and 
 the English retained all their ancient hatred against the inhabitants. 
 The British troops cantoned in Rhode Island, afforded continual 
 room for apprehension ; they might attack Massachusetts in flank, 
 and make inroads with impunity into the neighboring provinces. 
 Such, in effect, was the difficulty of raising men, that in some of the 
 provinces the enlisting of apprentices and Irish indented servants was 
 permitted, contrary to the former resolutions and decrees, with a 
 promise of indemnification to their masters. The winter and spring 
 had been employed in these preparations, but towards the latter end 
 of May, the mild weather having commenced, the Americans took 
 arms with promptitude, and Washington found himself daily re- 
 enforced from all quarters. The English thus lost the occasion of 
 an easy victory ; perhaps, as some have written, by the delay of 
 tents. However this may have been, they deferred taking the field 
 till obstacles were multiplied around them. 
 
 Washington, unable as yet to penetrate the designs of general 
 Howe, sought with vigilance to observe the direction he was about 
 to give to his arms. It was apprehended that renewing the war in 
 New Jersey he would endeavor to penetrate to the Delaware ; and, 
 passing the river by means of a bridge, known to be constructed for 
 the purpose, make himself master of Philadelphia. It was conjec- 
 tured also, and this was the expectation of Washington, that the 
 English general would proceed up the Hudson river into the upper 
 parts of the province of New York, in order to cooperate with the 
 British army of Canada, which was at the same time to attack the 
 fortress of Ticonderoga, and after its reduction, to operate a junc- 
 tion with general Howe in the vicinity of Albany. This movement 
 of the enemy was the more to be apprehended, as besides the 
 advantages it promised, it was known to have been prescribed by 
 the instructions of the British ministers. General Howe had been 
 diverted from following them by the successes he had obtained in 
 New Jersey, and the hope he had conceived of being able, of him- 
 self, to bring the war to a successful conclusion. 
 
406 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII, 
 
 In so great an uncertainty in respect to the future operations of 
 the enemy, Washington, having received his reenforcements, deter- 
 mined to take such positions as should be equally proper to oppose 
 them, whether the English should move towards Albany, or should 
 resolve to march against Philadelphia, by way of New Jersey. Ac- 
 cording; to this plan, the troops raised in the northern provinces, were 
 stationed partly at Ticonderoga, and partly at Peek's Kill, those of 
 the middle and southern provinces, as far as North Carolina, occu- 
 pied New Jersey, leaving a few corps for the protection of the more 
 western provinces. 
 
 In this manner, if general Howe moved against Philadelphia, he 
 found in front all the forces assembled in New Jersey, and in addi- 
 tion, those encamped at Peek's Kill, who would have descended to 
 harass his right flank. If, on the other hand, he took the direction 
 of Albany, the corps of Peek's Kill defended the passages in front, 
 while his left flank might also be attacked by the troops of New 
 Jersey, upon the banks of the Hudson. II, on the contrary, the 
 English army of Canada came by way of the sea, to join that of 
 general Howe upon the shores of New Jersey, the troops of Peek's 
 Kill could immediately unite with those that occupied the same pro- 
 vince, and thus compose a formidable army for the defence of Phi- 
 ladelphia. If, finally, the army of Canada attacked Ticonderoga, 
 the camp of Peek's Kill might carry succours to those who were 
 charged with the defence of that fortress. But es it was of inex- 
 pressible importance to preserve Philadelphia in the power of the 
 United States, the Congress ordained the formation of a camp upon 
 the western bank of the Delaware, with the double object'of receiving 
 all the troops that arrived from the south and west, and of serving, 
 in case of need, as a reserve. Here also were to assemble all the 
 recruits of Pennsylvania, reenforced by several regiments of regular 
 troops. This army was placed under the command of general 
 Arnold, who was then at Philadelphia. All these arrangements 
 being made, on the twenty-eighth of May, Washington quitted his 
 former position in the neighborhood of Morristown, and advancing 
 within a few miles of Brunswick, upon the left bank of the Rariton, 
 took possession of the strong country along Middlebrook. He 
 turned this advantageous situation to every account of which it waa 
 capable ; his camp, winding along the course of the hills, was strongly 
 intrenched and covered with artillery ; nor was it better secured 
 by its immediate natural or artificial advantages, than by the difficul- 
 ties of approach which the ground in front threw in the way of an 
 enemy. In this situation he commanded a view of the British en- 
 campment on the hills of Brunswick, and of most of the intermediate 
 country towards that place and Arnboy. The American army, at 
 this epoch, amounted to fifteen thousand men, inclusive of the North 
 Carolinians, and the militia of New Jersey ; but this number 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. . 407 
 
 comprehended many apprentices, and some totally undisciplined 
 companies. 
 
 Always controlled by a sort of fatal necessity, which was the mani- 
 fest cause of all the reverses of his party, general Howe would never 
 ascend the river Hudson towards Canada to cooperate and join with 
 the northern British army. He persisted in his favorite object of 
 invading New Jersey and Pennsylvania, according to the design he 
 had conceived of penetrating through the first of these provinces to 
 the Delaware, driving Washington before him, and reducing the 
 whole country to so effectual a state of subjection as to establish a 
 safe and open communication between the army and New York. 
 
 He presumed, either that Washington would hazard a battle, and 
 in that case he entertained no doubt of success ; or that the Ameri- 
 cans would constantly retire, which appeared to him the most proba- 
 ble. In the latter case, having by the reduction of New Jersey, left 
 everything safe in his rear, and secured the passage of the Delaware; 
 he became, of course, master of Philadelphia, which from its situa- 
 tion, was incapable of any effectual defence, and could only be pro- 
 tected by Washington at the certain expense and hazard of a battle; 
 than which** nothing was more coveted by the English. 
 
 If the obstacles in New Jersey were found so great that they 
 could not be overcome without much loss of time and expense of 
 blood, his intention was to profit of the powerful naval force, and the 
 great number of transports and vessels of all sorts which lay at New 
 York. By means of this numerous marine, the army might be con- 
 veyed either to the mouths of the Delaware and thence to Philadel- 
 phia, or into the bay of Chesapeake, which opened the way into the 
 heart of the central provinces, and led either directly, or by crossing 
 a country of no great extent to the possession of that city. That 
 point gained, Philadelphia was to become the place of arms and 
 centre of action, whilst every part of the hostile provinces of Penn- 
 sylvania, Virginia, and Maryland would, from their deep bays and 
 navigable rivers, be exposed to the continual attacks of an enemy so 
 powerful by sea. But it is evident that the first object of the views 
 of the English general, was the destruction of the army of Washing- 
 ton, and therefore before resorting to the aid of his marine, he resolved 
 to make trial of fortune in New Jersey, by using all the resources 
 of art to force the enemy to an action. Accordingly, having received 
 from Europe his tents, and other field equipage, with some reenforce- 
 ments composed principally of German troops, he passed over to the 
 frontiers of New Jersey, and moved with his whole army to Bruns- 
 wick, having left however a sufficient garrison at Araboy. When he 
 had accurately examined the strength of the posts which Washington 
 occupied, he renounced the scheme of assaulting him in his camp. 
 He continued for several days in front of his lines, offering him bat- 
 tle ; but the American general refusing it, he pushed on detachments, 
 
408 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 and made movements as if he intended to pass him, and advanced to 
 the Delaware, hoping that his enemy, alarmed for the safety of Phi- 
 ladelphia, would have abandoned this impregnable post to follow him. 
 But Washington, firm in his resolution of never committing the for- 
 tune of America to the hazard of a single action, made no move- 
 ment. 
 
 Meanwhile, having observed by the demonstrations of the English, 
 that their design was to prosecute their operations, not against the 
 passages leading to Canada, but in the province of New Jersey, he 
 ordered the troops at Peek's Kill to n\arch to his succour. He gave 
 colonel Morgan, the same who had displayed so brilliant a valor at 
 the assault of Quebec, the command of a troop of light horse, destined 
 to annoy the left flank of the English arrny, and to repress, or cut off 
 its advanced parties. General Sullivan, who occupied Princeton 
 with a strong detachment, was ordered to fall back to a more secure 
 position, upon the heights of Rocky Hill. But general Howe, per- 
 ceiving that Washington was not to be enticed by these demonstra- 
 tions to quit his fastnesses, resolved to put himself in motion, and to 
 approach nearer to the Delaware. Accordingly, in the night of the 
 fourteenth of June, the entire British army, with the exception of two 
 thousand soldiers, who remained for the protection of Brunswick, 
 began to move, in two columns, towards the river. The van of the 
 first, conducted by lord Cornwallis, and which had taken the road to 
 the- right, arrived by break of day at Somerset Court House, nine 
 miles distant from New Brunswick, having passed without obstacle 
 the little river Millstone. The column of the left, under general 
 Heister, reached at the same time the village of Middlebush, situated 
 lower down upon the road of Princeton. But Washington, faithful 
 to his temporising plan, had too much penetration to be diverted 
 from it by circumvention or sleight. He reflected, that without 
 supposing in the enemy a temerity, which was absolutely foreign 
 to the prudent and circumspect character of general Howe, it could 
 not be imagined that he would venture to advance upon the Delaware, 
 and to cross that river, having to combat an army on the opposite 
 bank, and another, still more formidable, in his rear. It was, besides, 
 evident that if the real intention of the English had hitherto been to 
 pass the Delaware, they would have marched rapidly towards it, 
 without halting, as they had done, at half way. He was not ignorant, 
 moreover, that they had advanced light to this point, leaving at 
 Brunswick their baggage, batteaux, and bridge equipage. Having 
 well pondered these circumstances, Washington concluded that the 
 project of the enemy was not to proceed to the Delaware, but to al- 
 lure him from his camp of Middlebrook, in order to reduce him to 
 the necessity of fighting. Wherefore he made no movement, but 
 continued to remain quietly within his intrenchments. Only, as the 
 enemy was so near, he drew up his army in order of battle, upon the 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 409 
 
 heights which defended the front of his camp, and kept it all the fol- 
 lowing night under aims. 
 
 Meanwhile, the militia of New Jersey assembled from every quar- 
 ter, with great alacrity ; and general Sullivan with his detachment 
 marching upon the left bank of the Millstone, had approached the 
 Rariton, so as to be able to disquiet the enemy by frequent skirmishes 
 in front, and to join, if necessary, with the commander-in-chief. 
 
 General Howe having ascertained that his adversary was too wary 
 to be caught in the snares that he had hitherto laid for him, and that 
 his menaces to pass the Delaware would be fruitless, resolved next 
 to try whether the appearance of fear, and a precipitate retreat to- 
 wards Arnboy, might not have the effect of drawing him into the 
 plain, and consequently, of forcing him to an engagement. Accord- 
 ing to this new ptan, in the night of the nineteenth, he suddenly 
 quitted his position in front of the enemy, where he had begun to 
 intrench himself; he retired in haste to Brunswick, and thence, with 
 the same marks of precipitation, towards Amboy. The English, as 
 they retreated, burned a great number of houses, either from personal 
 rage, or with a view to inflame the passions of the Americans, and 
 increase the ardor of their pursuit. When they had gained Amboy, 
 they threw the bridge, which was intended for the Delaware, over 
 the channel which separates the continent from Staten Island, and 
 immediately passed over it their heavy baggage, and all the incum- 
 brances of the army. Some of the troops followed, and every thing 
 was in immediate preparation for the passage of the rest of the army, 
 as if all hope had been lost of its making any further progress in New 
 Jersey. Washington, with all his caution and penetration, allowed 
 himself to-be imposed upon by this stratagem of his adversary. He 
 ordered generals Greene, Sullivan, and Maxwell, to pursue the enemy 
 with strong detachments; but the two latter were not in season. Co- 
 lonel Morgan infested the rear of the retreating army with his cavalry ; 
 and lord Sterling, with colonel Conway, harassed its left flank. The 
 advantages they gained, however, were trifling, as the English march- 
 ed in good order, and had taken care to place a great part of their 
 forces in the rear guard. Finally, Washington himself, to be more 
 at hand for the protection and support of his advanced parties, de- 
 scended from the impregnable heights of Middlebrook, and advanced 
 to a place called Quibbletown, six or seven miles nearer to Arnboy. 
 Lord Sterling, with a strong division, occupied the village of Me- 
 tuckin, lower down towards that city. 
 
 General Howe lost no time in endeavoring to profit of the occasion 
 he had opened for himself so shrewdly. In the night of the twenty- 
 fifth of June, he drew back his troops from Staten Island to the con- 
 tinent, and on the morning of the twenty-sixth, marched them with 
 great expedition against the Americans. His army formed two dis- 
 tinct divisions. He had three objects in view. To cut off some of 
 VOL. i. 52 
 
410 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 the principal advanced parties of the enemy ; to bring his main 
 body to an engagement ; and finally, by a rapid movement upon his 
 left, to seize the defiles of the mountains which led to the encamp- 
 ment of Middlebrook, in order to prevent Washington from resuming 
 that strong position. The column of the right, commanded by lord 
 Cornwallis, was destined to accomplish this last operation ; accord- 
 ingly it moved with extreme celerity, by the way of Woodbridge, to 
 the Scotch Plains. The left, under the immediate orders of general 
 Howe, took the route of Metuckin. It was the intention of the 
 English generals, that these two corps should reunite beyond the 
 village of Metuckin, upon the road leading from that place to the 
 Scotch Plains, and that thence, having separated anew, the left should 
 rapidly turn against the left flank of the American army, posted at 
 Quibbletown, while the right should endeavor to occupy the hills 
 situated upon the left of the camp of Middlebrook. Four battalions 
 with six pieces of artillery, remained at Bonharripton to secure Amboy 
 against any unforeseen attack. 
 
 According to these dispositions, the English army advanced with 
 a rapid step, sanguine in the hope of victory. But fortune, who was 
 pleased to reserve the Americans for a better destiny, all at once 
 deranged the well concerted scheme of the British generals. Lord 
 Cornwallis having passed Woodbridge, fell in with a party of seven 
 hundred American riflemen. A warm skirmish ensued, which soon 
 terminated in the flight of the republicans. But the noise of the 
 musketry, and afterwards the fugitives themselves gave Washington 
 warning of the extreme danger that menaced him. His resolution 
 was immediately taken to recover with celerity what he had aban- 
 doned, perhaps, with imprudence. He quitted accordingly his posi- 
 tion at Quibbletown, and with all possible expedition repossessed 
 himself of the encampment of Middlebrook. When arrived, he 
 instantly detached a strong corps to secure those passes in the moun- 
 tains upon his left, through which he perceived it was the intention of 
 lord Cornwallis to approach the heights. This general having dis- 
 persed without difficulty the smaller advanced parties of the enemy, 
 fell in at length with lord Sterling, who, with about three thousand 
 men, strongly posted in a woody country, and well covered by artillery 
 judiciously disposed, manifested a determination to dispute his passage. 
 But the English and Hessians, animated by a mutual emulation, 
 attacked with such impetuosity, that the Americans, unable to with- 
 stand the shock, were soon routed on all sides, having sustained 
 besides no inconsiderable loss in men, that of three pieces of brass 
 ordnance. The English continued their pursuit as far as Westfield, 
 but the woods and the intense heat of the weather, prevented its 
 effect. Lord Cornwallis having discovered that the defiles were 
 diligently guarded, and despairing of being able to accomplish his 
 design, returned by the road of Raway, to Amboy. General Howe 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 411 
 
 in like manner, finding his plan entirely defeated by the sudden 
 retreat of Washington into his strong camp of Middlebrook, also 
 marched back to that city. The brigades of Scott and Conway 
 followed the English step by step as far as the frontiers, but without 
 finding an opening to attack them, so close and cautious was their 
 order of march. 
 
 The British generals now reflected that the continuation of hostili- 
 ties in New Jersey, with a view of penetrating to the Delaware, 
 would not only be fruitless, since the enemy was evidently resolved 
 not to hazard a general engagement, but that it would even be attend- 
 ed with extreme danger, as well from the strength of his positions as 
 from the general enmity of the inhabitants. In effect, the season was 
 already advanced, and there was no more time to be wasted in 
 unprofitable expeditions. They resolved therefore to attack Penn- 
 sylvania by way of the sea ; thus persevering in their scheme of 
 acting by themselves, and not in conjunction with the Canadian army, 
 which it was known had invested Ticonderoga ; and which probably 
 would soon be, if it was not already, in possession of that fortress. 
 Accordingly all the troops of general Howe were passed over the 
 channel to Staten Island, and the Americans soon after entered 
 Amboy. The great preparations made by the English in Staten 
 Island, and in all the province of New York, for the embarkation of 
 the army, and the uncertainty of the place against which the storm 
 would be directed, excited a general alarm throughout the continent. 
 Boston, the Hudson river, the Delaware, Chesapeake bay, and even 
 Charleston, in Carolina, were alternately held to be the objects of the 
 expedition. General Washington exerted the utmost vigilance ; he 
 maintained a secret correspondence with the republicans in New 
 York, who advised him daily of whatever they saw and heard. In 
 pursuance of this intelligence, he was continually despatching 
 expresses to put those places upon their guard, which, from immedi- 
 ate information, he supposed for the time to be the threatened point. 
 But herein the English had greatly the advantage, for having the sea 
 always open, they could fall unawares upon the destined place, before 
 the inhabitants could be prepared to resist them, and before the 
 soldiery could possibly corne to their succour. But among all the 
 objects that general Howe might have in view, the Americans knew 
 very well, that the two which he must consider of most importance, 
 were consequently the most probable. These were evidently either 
 the conquest of Philadelphia, or the cooperation, by the Hudson, 
 river, with the army of Canada. But to which of these^two opera- 
 tions he would give the preference, it was not easy to penetrate. In 
 this perplexity, Washington continued stationary in his encampment 
 at Middlebrook, where he could securely persist in his defensive 
 system, and be equally near at hand to march to the succour of Phi- 
 ladelphia, or to ascend the Hudson. 
 
412 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 In this posture of things, a movement of general Howe led him to 
 believe that the English had in view the expedition of Albany. 
 Their fleet, moored at Princesbay, a place not far from Amboy, 
 moved higher up towards New York, and came to anchor at Water- 
 ingplace, while their whole army, with its munitions and baggage, 
 withdrew from the coast opposite Amboy, and took post at the north 
 point of Staten Island. Washington, thereupon, having posted two 
 regiments of infantry and one of light horse between Newark and 
 Amboy, to cover this part against desultory incursions, moved with 
 the main body of his army to reoccupy his old camp of MorristQwn. 
 He there found himself nearer to the Hudson, without being at such 
 a distance from Middlebrook, as to prevent him from promptly resum- 
 ing that position, if the enemy made any demonstration against New 
 Jersey. He, moreover, detached general Sullivan with a numerous 
 corps to occupy Prompton, upon the road to Peek's Kill, in order 
 that he might, according to circumstances, either advance to the 
 latter place, or return to Morristown. 
 
 Jn the meantime, it was confidently reported that general Burgoyne, 
 who commanded the British army upon the lakes, had appeared in 
 great force under the walls of Ticonderoga. Washington, therefore, 
 still more persuaded of the intended cooperation of the two armies, 
 under Howe and Burgoyne, upon the banks of the Hudson, ordered 
 general Sullivan to advance immediately and post himself in front of 
 Pick's Kill, while he proceeded himself as far as Prompton, and 
 afterwards to Clove. The news soon arrived of the surrender of 
 Ticonderoga, and at the same time, intelligence was received that 
 the English fleet was anchored under New York, and even that a 
 great number of transports were come up the Hudson as far as 
 Dobbs Ferry, where the river widens so as to form a species of lake, 
 called Tappan Bay. These different movements confirmed W T ash- 
 ington in his conjectures respecting the project of the enemy ; he 
 therefore directed general Sullivan to pass the Hudson, and to 
 intrench himself behind Peek's Kill upon the left bank. In like 
 manner, lord Sterling was ordered to cross the river and unite with 
 general Putnam, who guarded the heights that were the object of so 
 much jealousy for the two armies. But, as the larger ships, and a 
 part of the light vessels, were returned from Wateringplace to Sandy 
 Hook, as if the fleet was preparing for sea, in order to gain the 
 Delaware, and as the whole British army still remained in Staten 
 Island, Washington began to suspect that general Howe meditated 
 embarking with a view to the conquest of Philadelphia. 
 
 Iis the midst of these uncertainties, and while the American general 
 endeavored to penetrate the intentions of the English, and the latter 
 to deceive him by vain demonstrations upon the banks of the Hudson, 
 the news arrived of an adventure which, though of little importance 
 in itself, produced as much exultation to the Americans as regret to 
 
BOOK VII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 413 
 
 the English. The British troops stationed in Rhode Island were 
 commanded by general Prescott, who, finding himself in an island 
 surrounded by the fleet of the king, and disposing of a force greatly 
 superior to what the enemy could assemble in this quarter, became 
 extremely negligent of his guard. The Americans, earnestly desir- 
 ing to retaliate the capture of general Lee, formed the design of 
 surprising general Prescott in his quarters, and of bringing him off 
 prisoner to the continent. Accordingly, in the night of the tenth of 
 July, lieutenant-colonel Barton, at the head of a party of forty of the 
 country militia, well acquainted with the places, embarked in whale 
 boats, and after having rowed a distance of above ten miles, and avoid- 
 ed with great dexterity the numerous vessels of the enemy, landed 
 upon the western coast of Rhode Island, between Newport and Bristol 
 Ferry. He repaired immediately, with the utmost silence and cele- 
 rity, to the lodging of general Prescott. They adroitly secured the 
 sentinels who guarded the door. An aid-de-camp went up into the 
 chamber of the general, who slept quietly, and arrested him, without 
 giving him time even to put on his clothes; they conducted him with 
 equal secrecy and success to the main land. This, event afforded 
 the Americans singular satisfaction, as they hoped to exchange their 
 prisoner for general Lee. It was, however, particularly galling to 
 general Prescott, who not long before had been delivered by ex- 
 change from the hands of the Americans, after having been taken in 
 the expedition of Canada. In addition to this, he had lately been 
 guilty of an action unworthy of a man of honor, in setting a price 
 upon the head of general Arnold, as if he had been a common out- 
 Jaw and assassin ; an insult which Arnold immediately returned, by 
 setting an inferior price upon the person of Prescott. The Con- 
 gress publicly thanked lieutenant-colonel Barton, and presented him 
 with a sword. 
 
 Meanwhile, the immensity of the preparations made by general 
 Howe for fitting out the fleet, as well as several movements it ex- 
 ecuted, strengthened the suspicion of Washington that the demon- 
 strations of the. English upon the Hudson were no other than a mere 
 feint. Every day he was more and more convinced that their real 
 plan was to embark and proceed to the attack of Philadelphia, as 
 the capital of the confederation. He therefore retired progressively 
 from Clove, and divided his army into several corps, in order to be 
 able to succour trn places attacked with the more expedition. He 
 prayed the Congress to assemble the rnilitia of Pennsylvania, with- 
 out loss of time, at Chester, and those of the lower counties of 
 Delaware, at Wilmington. He directed watches to be stationed 
 upon the capes of the Delaware, to keep a look out, and give early 
 notice of the arrival of the enemy. The governor of New Jersey 
 vvns exhorted to call out the militia of the districts bordering upon 
 this river, directing them to make head at Gloucester, situated upon 
 the left bank, a little below Philadelphia. 
 
414 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VII. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the diligence of the brothers Howe, in pre- 
 paring for the embarkation, and the assistance afforded by the crews 
 of more than three hundred vessels, the English could not procure, 
 without extreme difficulty, the articles that were necessary, so that 
 it was not until the twenty-third of July that the fleet and army were 
 able to depart from Sandy Hook. The force that embarked upon 
 this, enterprise, consisted of thirty-six British and Hessian battalions, 
 including the light infantry and grenadiers, with a powerful artillery, 
 a New York corps, called the Queen's rangers, and a regiment of 
 cavalry. Seventeen battalions, with a regiment of light horse, and 
 the remainder of the new corps of loyalists, were left for the protec- 
 tion of New York and the neighboring islands. Rhode Island was 
 occupied by seven battalions. It was said that general Howe in- 
 tended to have taken a greater force with him upon this expedition ; 
 but that upon the representation of general Clinton, who was to 
 command in his absence, of the danger to which the islands would 
 be exposed, from the extensiveness of the coasts, and the great 
 number of posts that were necessarily to be maintained, he acknow- 
 ledged the force of these considerations by relanding several regi- 
 ments. 
 
 Thus, England, by the error of her ministers, or of her generals, 
 had in America, instead of a great and powerful army, only three 
 separate corps, from which individually no certain victory could be 
 expected. At this moment, in effect, one of these corps was in 
 Canada, another in the islands of New York and Rhode Island, and 
 the third was on its way by sea, destined to act against Philadelphia. 
 But perhaps it was imagined that .in a country like that which fur- 
 nished the theatre of this war, continually interrupted by lakes, rivers, 
 forests, and inaccessible places, three light armies were likely to 
 operate with more effect separately, than united in a single mass, 
 incumbered by the number of troops, and multitude of baggage. 
 This excuse would, perhaps, be valid, if the English generals, in- 
 stead of operating as they did, without concert and without a common 
 plan, had mutually assisted each other with their counsels and forces 
 to strike a decisive blow, and arrive together at the same object. 
 
 However this may be viewed, the rapid progress of general Bur- 
 goyne towards the sources of the Hudson, the apprehension of an 
 approaching attack on the part of general Howe, and the uncertainty 
 of the point it menaced, all concurred to maintain a general agitation 
 and alarm throughout the American continent. Great battles were 
 expected, and no one doubted they would prove as fierce and san- 
 guinary, as they were to be important and decisive. 
 
 END OP BOOK SEVENTH, AND VOLUME ONE. 
 

HISTORY 
 
 OP THE 
 
 WAR OF THE INDEPENDENCE 
 
 THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 BY CHARLES BOTTA, 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN, 
 
 BY GEORGE ALEXANDER OTIS, ESQ. 
 
 SECOND EDITION, IN TWO VOLUMES, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HARRISON GRAY, 
 
 William L. Lewis, Printer. 
 
 1826. 
 
DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, to wit: 
 
 District Clerk's Office. 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the sixth day of March, A.D. 1826, in the fiftieth year 
 of the Independence of the United States of America, GEORGE ALEXANDER OTIS, ESQ. 
 of the said district, has deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he 
 claims as proprietor, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 ' History of the War of the Independence of the United States of America. By Charles 
 Botta. Vol. II. Translated from the Italian, by George Alexander Otis, Esq. Second 
 edition, in two volumes, revised and corrected.' 
 
 In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, 'An act for the 
 encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and booUs, to the 
 authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned,' and also to 
 an act entitled, ' An act supplementary to an act entitled, an act for the encouragement 
 of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and pro- 
 prietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned,' and extending the benefits 
 thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching -historical and other prints. 
 
 JNO. W. DAVIS, 
 
 Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK EIGHTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Designs of the British ministry. Expedition of Burgoyne. Assembly of 
 the Savages. Proclamation of Burgoyne. He puts himself in motion. The Americans 
 prepare to combat him. Description of Ticondeioga. Capture of that fortress ; opera- 
 tions which result from it. Burgoyne arrives upon the banks of the Hudson. Siege of 
 fort Stanwix, Afl'air of Bennington. Embarrassed position of Burgoyne. Gates takes 
 the command of the northern army. Battle between Burgoyne and Gates. Second 
 battle still more sanguinary. Burgoyne in extremity. He surrenders.- Generosity of 
 Gates. Ravages committed by the royal troops. The republicans prepare to oppose 
 sir William Howe. The marquis de la Fayette, and his qualities. Howe lands with his 
 army at the head of Elk. Battle of Brandy wine. After various movements the royal- 
 ists take possession of Philadelphia. Battle of Germantown. Operations upon the 
 Delaware. The two armies go into quarters. Miserable condition of the republicans 
 in the quarters of Valley Forge, and their astonishing constancy. Intrigues against 
 Washington, and his magnanimity. Howe succeeded by sir Henry Clinton, and departs 
 for England. 
 
 BOOK NINTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Effects produced in England by the events of the war. The earl of 
 Chatham proposes a plan of conciliation, but is unable to procure its adoption. De- 
 signs of the ministers. Negotiations of Congress in France. Interested policy of the 
 French government. Lewis XVI. acknowledges the Independence of the United States. 
 Lord North makes a motion in favor of an arrangement. Declaration of the French 
 ambassador. Independence of America. Pownal advocates in Parliament the ac- 
 knowledgment of American Independence. Jenkinson speaks in opposition to it, and 
 obtains the majority of votes. The earl of Chatham dies ; his character. War is 
 declared between France and England. Naval battle of Ouessant 
 
 BOOK TENTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. The conciliatory plan of the ministry arrives in America. Effects it pro- 
 duced there. Deliberations of Congress. The treaties concluded with France arrive in 
 the United States. Joy of the inhabitants. The Congress ratify the treaties. The com- 
 missioners sent by George third with proposals of peace arrive in America. The Ame- 
 ricans refuse all arrangement. The English evacuate Philadelphia. Battle of Mon- 
 mouth. The count D'Estaing arrives with a fleet in the waters of America, the projects 
 of that admiral. Other operations of the British commissioners. They are without 
 effect, and the commissioners depart from America. The Congress give a solemn 
 audience to the minister of the king of France. Operations in Rhode Island. Engage- 
 ment between the count D'Estaing and Howe. Discontent of the Americans against 
 the French, and quarrels which result from it. Horrible Excision of Wyoming. The 
 count D'Estaing sails for the West Indies. Byron follows him. The royal army 
 moves to attack the southern provinces of the confederation. 
 
 BOOK ELEVENTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. The French capture Dominica, the English St. Lucia. The British 
 troops land in Georgia, and occupy Savannah. They attempt to carry Charleston, in 
 South Carolina. Their depredations. Different military events. The islands of St. 
 Vincent and Grenada are conquered bv the French. Naval action between the count 
 D'E-staing and admiral Byron. The count D'Estaing arrives in Georgia. Savannah 
 besieged by the Americans and French. Count D'Estaing returns to Europe. Political 
 revolution among the Americans. Spain joins the coalition against England. The 
 combined fleets of France and Spain present themselves upon the coasts of Great 
 Britain. They retire. Causes of their retreat. Discontents in Holland against England. 
 Armed neutrality of the northern powers. The British ministry send reenforcements 
 to America. The English obtain great advantages over the Spaniards, and throw 
 succours into Gibraltar. Firmness of the British court. 
 
CONTENTS. IV 
 
 BOOK TWELFTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Campaign of the south. The English besiege and take Charleston. Tarle- 
 fon defeats the republicans at Wacsaw. Submission of South Carolina, and proclama- 
 tions of lord Cornwallis for the reestablishment of tranquillity in that province. New 
 York menaced. New devastations committed by the English. Washington defeats the 
 plan of Clinton. Variations of bills of credit. New efforts of the republicans in South 
 Carolina. Magnanimity of the women of that province. Campaign by sea. Engage- 
 ments between the count de Guichen and admiral Rodney. Dreadful hurricane in the 
 West Indies. The English capture a French convoj', and the Spaniards, a British con- 
 voy. Siege of Gibraltar. Parties in Holland. Secret treaty between the Congress 
 and the city of Amsterdam. Rupture between England and Holland. Revival of 
 ardor among the Americans. M. de la Fayette .arrives from France in America, and 
 brings good news. Bank of Philadelphia. Academy of Massachusetts. The count 
 de Rochambeau, arrives in Rhode Island, with French troops. War rekindles in South 
 Carolina. General Gates takes the command of the southern army. Battle of Camb- 
 den between Gates and Cornwallis. Bloody executions in South Carolina. Conspiracy 
 and treason. Deplorable death of Major Andre. Hostilities in the Carolinas. Battle 
 of King's mountain. Affair of Blackstocks. Gates succeeded by general Green. Battle 
 of Cowpens. Admirable pursuit of the English, and no less admirable retreat of the 
 Americans. Battle of Guildford between Green and Cornwallis. Green marches upon 
 the Carolina^; Cornwallis upon Virginia. 
 
 BOOK THIRTEENTH. 
 
 
 
 SUMMARY. Losses of the Dutch. Depredations of the English at St. Eustatius. The 
 Spaniards seize West Florida. Plans of the belligerent powers. The English revictual 
 Gibraltar. The Spaniards attack that fortress with fury. M. de la Motte Piquet takes 
 from the English the booty they had made at St. Eustatius. Naval battle of the bay of 
 Praya. M. de Suffren succours the Cape of Good Hope. General Elliot, governor of Gib- 
 raltar, destroys the works of the Spaniards. Attack upon Minorca. The combined fleets 
 show themselves upon the coast of England. Fierce combat between the English and 
 Dutch. The count de Grasse arrives in the West Indies with a formidable fleet. Com- 
 bat between him and admiral Hood. The French take Tobago. The count de Grasse 
 and admiral Hood prepare themselves for the execution of their plans of campaign. 
 Intestine dissentions in the United States. Insurrection in the army of Pennsylvania. 
 Battle of Hobkirk. Battle of Eutaw Springs, and end of the campaign of the south. 
 Campaign of Virginia. Cornwallis takes post at Yorktown. The combined troops 
 besiege him there, and constrain him to surrender with all his army. The French 
 make themselves masters of St. Christopher's. Minorca falls into the power of the 
 allies. Change of ministry in England. 
 
 BOOK FOURTEENTH. 
 
 SUMMARY. Plans of the belligerent powers. The combined fleets menace the coasts 
 of England. Intrigues of the new ministers. Campaign of the West Indies. Memora- 
 ble engagement of the twelfth of April 1782, between the count de Grasse and admiral 
 Rodney. Siege of Gibraltar. Description of that fortress. Floating batteries. Gene- 
 ral attack. Victory of Elliot. Admiral Howe revictuals Gibraltar. Negotiations of 
 peace. Signature of treaties. Alarming agitation in the army of Congress. It is dis- 
 banded. Washington divests himself of the supreme command, and retires to his seat 
 at Mount Vernon. 
 
HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR, 
 
 BOOK EIGHTH. 
 
 1777. THE British ministers, as we have before related, had 
 long since formed the scheme of opening; a way to New York by 
 means of an army, which should descend from the lakes to the banks 
 of the Hudson, and unite in the vicinity of Albany with the whole, 
 or with a part, of that commanded by general Howe. All inter- 
 course would thus have been cut off between the eastern and west- 
 ern provinces, and it was believed that victory, from this moment, 
 could no longer be doubtful. The former, where the inhabitants 
 were the most exasperated, crushed by an irresistible force, would 
 have been deprived of all means of succouring the latter. These 
 consequently, however remote from the Hudson, would also have 
 been constrained to submit to the fortune of the conqueror, terrified 
 by the reduction of the other provinces, abounding with loyalists, 
 who would have joined the victor, and also swayed perhaps by a 
 jealousy of the power of New England, and irritated by the reflec- 
 tion that it was her obstinacy which had been the principal cause of 
 their present calamities. This expedition, besides, presented few 
 difficulties, since with the exception of a short march, it might be 
 executed entirely by water. The French themselves had attempted 
 it in the course of the last war. It was hoped that it would have 
 been already effected by the close of the preceding year; but it had 
 failed in consequence of the obstacles encountered upon the lakes, 
 the lateness of the season, and especially because while general 
 Carleton advanced upon Ticonderoga and consequently towards the 
 Hudson, general Howe, instead of proceeding up the river to join 
 him, had carried his arms to the west, against New Jersey. 
 
 At present, however, this scheme had acquired new favor, and 
 what in preceding years had been only an incidental part of the plan 
 of campaign, was now become its main object. The entire British 
 
 VOL. II. 2 % 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VI11. 
 
 nation had founded the most sanguine expectations upon this arrange- 
 ment; nothing else seemed to be talked of among them but this 
 expedition of Canada, which was shortly to bring about the total 
 subjection of America. The junction of the two armies appeared 
 quite sufficient to attain this desired object ; the Americans, it was 
 said, cannot oppose it without coming to a general battle, arid in such 
 case, there can exist no doubt of the result. The ministers had 
 taken all the measures which they deemed essential to the success of 
 so important an enterprise ; they had furnished with profusion what- 
 ever the generals themselves had required or suggested. General 
 Burgoyne, an officer of uncontested ability, possessed of an exact 
 knowledge of the country, and animated by an ardent thirst for mili- 
 tary glory, had repaired to England during the preceding winter, 
 where he had submitted to the ministers the plan of this expedition, 
 and had concerted with them the means of carrying it into effect. 
 The ministry, besides their confidence in his genius and spirit, placed 
 great hope in that eager desire of renown by which they knew him 
 to be goaded incessantly ; they gave him therefore the direction of 
 all the operations. In this appointment, little regard was manifested 
 for the rank and services of general Carleton ; what he had already 
 done in Canada, seemed to entitle him to conduct to its conclusion the 
 enterprise he had commenced. No one, assuredly, could pretend to 
 govern that province with more prudence and firmness. He pos- 
 sessed also an accurate knowledge of the country, as he had resided 
 in Canada for several years, and had already made war there. But 
 perhaps the ministers were dissatisfied with his retreat from Ticonde- 
 roga, and the repugnance he was said to have manifested to employ 
 the savages. Perhaps also, his severity in the exercise of his com- 
 mand had drawn upon him the ill will of some officers, who endea- 
 vored to represent his actions in an unfavorable light. Burgoyne, 
 impatient to make his profit of the occasion, was arrived in England, 
 where, being well received at court, and besieging the ministers with 
 his importunities, he made such magnificent promises, that in preju- 
 dice of Carleton he was entrusted with the command of all the 
 troops of Canada. But the governor, finding himself, contrary to 
 his expectation, divested of all military power, and restricted in his 
 functions, requested leave to resign. 
 
 General Burgoyne arrived at Quebec in the beginning of the 
 month of May, and immediately set himself to push forward the 
 business of his mission. He displayed an extreme activity in com- 
 pleting all the preparations which might conduce to the success 
 of the enterprise. Meanwhile, several ships arrived from England, 
 bringing arms, munitions, and field equipage, in great abundance. 
 General Carleton, exhibiting an honorable example of moderation 
 and patriotism, seconded Burgoyne with great diligence and energy ; 
 he exerted in his favor not only the authority with which he was still 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 7 
 
 invested as governor, but even the influence he had with his friends 
 and numerous partisans. His zealous cooperation proved of signal 
 utility, and every thing was soon in preparation for an expedition 
 which was to decide the event of the war, and the- fate of America. 
 The regular force placed at the disposal of general Burgoyne, con- 
 sisting of British and German troops, amounted to upwards of seven 
 thousand men, exclusive of a corps of artillery, composed of about 
 five hundred. To these should be added a detachment of seven 
 hundred rangers, under colonel St. Leger, destined to make an in- 
 cursion into the country of the Mohawks, and to seize Fort Stanvvix, 
 otherwise called Fort Schuyler. This corps consisted of some com- 
 panies of English infantry, of recruits from New York, of Hanau 
 chasseurs, and of a party of Canadians and savages. According to 
 the plan of the ministers and of the general himself, the principal 
 army of Burgoyne was to be joined by two thousand Canadians, 
 including hatchetmen, and other workmen, whose services, it was 
 foreseen, would be much needed to render the ways practicable. A 
 sufficient number of seamen had been assembled, for manning the 
 transports upon the lakes and upon the Hudson. Besides the Cana- 
 dians that were to be immediately attached to the army, many others 
 were called upon to scour the woods in the frontiers, and to occupy 
 the intermediate posts between the army which advanced towards the 
 Hudson, and that which remained for the protection of Canada ; the 
 latter amounted, including the Highland emigrants, to upwards of 
 three thousand men. These dispositions were necessary, partly to 
 intercept the communication between the enemy and the ill affected 
 in Canada 5 partly to prevent desertion, to procure intelligence, to 
 transmit orders, and for various other duties essential to the security 
 and tranquillity of the country in the rear of the army. But these 
 were not the only services exacted from the Canadians ; a great 
 number of them were assembled to complete the fortifications at 
 Sorel, St. Johns, Chambly, and He aux Noix. Finally, they were 
 required to furnish horses and carts, to convey from the different 
 repositories to the army all the provisions, artillery stores, and other 
 effects of which it might have need. Under this last head was com- 
 prehended a large quantity of uniforms, destined for the loyalists, 
 who, it was not doubted, would after victory flock from all quarters 
 to the royal camp. 
 
 But it was also thought that the aid of the savages would be of 
 great advantage to the cause of the king ; the government had there- 
 fore ordered general Carleton to use his utmost weight and influence 
 to assemble a body of a thousand Indians, and even more if it was 
 possible. His humanity, which could ill endure the cruelty of these 
 barbarians, and experience, which had taught him that they were 
 rather an incumbrance than an aid, in regular operations, would 
 have induced him to decline their alliance ; but, in obedience to his 
 
8 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 orders, he exerted an active zeal in bringing them forward to support 
 the expedition. His success was answerable to his efforts. Whether 
 by the influence of his name, which was extreme among these 
 tribes, from their avidity to grasp the presents of the English, or 
 from their innate thirst for blood and plunder, their remote as well 
 as near nations poured forth their warriors in such abundance, that the 
 British generals became apprehensive that their numbers might render 
 them rather a clog than any real addition of strength to the army. 
 They hastened therefore to dismiss such as appeared the least proper 
 for war, or the most cruel or intractable. Never, perhaps, was 
 an army of no greater force than this accompanied by so formidable 
 a train of artillery, as well from the number of pieces, as from the 
 skill of those who served it. This powerful apparatus was considered 
 eminently requisite to disperse without effort an undisciplined enemy 
 in the open country, or to dislodge him from strong and difficult 
 places. The generals who seconded Burgoyne in this expedition, 
 were all able and excellent officers. The principal were, major- 
 general Phillips, of the artillery, who had distinguished himself in 
 the wars of Germany ; the brigadier-generals Frazer, Powel, and 
 Hamilton, with the Brunswick major-general Baron Reidesel, and 
 brigadier-general Specht. The whole army shared in the ardor 
 and hopes of its chiefs ; not a doubt was entertained of an approach- 
 ing triumph, and the conquest of America. 
 
 The preparations being at length completed, and all the troops, as 
 well national as auxiliary, having arrived, general Burgoyne pro- 
 ceeded to encamp near the little river Bouquet, upon the west bank 
 of Lake Champlain, at no great distance to the north of Crown 
 Point. As the time for commencing hostilities was near at hand, 
 and dreading the consequences of the barbarity of the savages, 
 which, besides the dishonor it reflected upon the British arms, might 
 prove essentially prejudicial to the success of the expedition, he 
 resolved to assemble those barbarians in congress, and afterwards, in 
 compliance with their customs, to give them a war feast. He made 
 a speech to them on that occasion, calculated, in terms of singular 
 energy, to excite their ardor in the common cause, and at the same 
 time to repress their ferocious propensities. To this end, he endea- 
 vored to explain to them the distinction between a war carried on 
 against a common enemy, in which the whole country and people 
 were hostile, and the present, in which the faithful were intermixed 
 with rebels, and traitors with friends. He recommended and strictly 
 enjoined them, that they should put none to death but such as actu- 
 ally opposed them with arms in their hands ; that old men, women, 
 children, and prisoners, should be held sacred from the knife or 
 tomahawk, even in the heat of action ; that they should scalp only 
 those whom they had slain in battle ; but that under no pretext, or 
 color of prevarication, they should scalp the wounded, or even the 
 
BOOK VI11. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 dying, and much less kill them, by way of evading the injunction. 
 He promised them a due reward for every prisoner they brought him 
 in, but denounced the severest penalties against those who should 
 scalp the living. 
 
 While, on the one hand, general Burgoyne attempted to mitigate 
 the natural ferooiiy of the Indians, he endeavored, on the other, to 
 render them an object of terror with those who persisted in resistance. 
 For this purpose, on the twenty-ninth of June, he issued a proclama- 
 tion from his camp at Putnam Creek, wherein he magnified the force 
 of the British armies and fleets which were about to embrace and to 
 crush every part of America. He painted, with great vivacity of 
 coloriog, the excesses committed by the chiefs of the rebellion, as 
 well as the deplorable condition to which they had reduced the colo- 
 . nies. He reminded the Americans of the arbitrary imprisonments 
 and oppressive treatment with which those had been persecuted who 
 had shown themselves faithful to their king and country ; he enlarged 
 upon the tyrannic cruelties inflicted by the assemblies and committees 
 upon the most quiet subjects, without distinction of age or sex, for the 
 sole offence, and often for the sole suspicion of having adhered in 
 principle to the government under which they were born, under 
 which they had lived for so long a time, and to which, by every tie 
 divine and human, they owed allegiance. He instanced the violence 
 offered to their consciences, by the exaction of oaths and of military 
 services, in support of an usurpation they abhorred. He had come, 
 he continued, with a numerous and veteran army, and in the name 
 of the king, to put an end to such unheard of enormities. He invited 
 the well disposed to join him, and assist in redeeming their countiy 
 from slavery, and in the reestablisnment of legal government. He 
 promised protection and security to all those who should continue 
 quietly to pursue their occupations; who should abstain from removing 
 their cattle, or corn, or any species of forage; from breaking up the 
 bridges, or obstructing the roads, and in a word, from committing any 
 act of hostility; and who, on the contrary, should furnish the camp 
 with all sorts of provisions, assured as they might be, of receiving the 
 full value thereof, in solid coin. But against the contumacious, and 
 those who should persist in rebellion, he denounced the most terrible 
 war; he warned them that justice and vengeance were about to over- 
 take them, accompanied with devastation, famine, and all the calami- 
 ties in their train. Finally, he admonished them not to flatter them- 
 selves, that distance or coverts could screen them from his pursuit, for 
 he had only to let loose the thousands of Indians that were under his 
 direction to discover in their most secret retreats, and to punish with 
 condign severity, the hardened enemies of Great Britain and America. 
 
 This manifesto, so little worthy of the general of a civilised nation, 
 was justly censured, not only in the two houses of parliament and 
 throughout Great Britain, but excited the indignation of every mode- 
 
10 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 rate and generous mind in all Europe. In vain did Burgoyne attempt 
 to excuse himself, by pretending that he had merely intended to intimi- 
 date the people he was about to combat; he should have employed 
 for this purpose the arms that are in use among polished nations, and 
 not the menaces appropriate to barbarians. Moreover his soldiers, 
 and especially the savages, were already but too much disposed to 
 ravage and massacre, and to take in earnest what their general would 
 have it believed he only announced as an artifice or feint. This was 
 was not a race to be sported with, and the thing itself was no light 
 matter. Be this as it may, the proclamation produced an effect 
 entirely contrary to its author's expectations. That fearless people 
 who inhabit New England, far from allowing it to terrify them, were 
 much inclined to deride it; they never met with each other without 
 contemptuously inquiring what vent the vaunting general of Britain, 
 had found for his pompous and ridiculous declamations? These pre- 
 liminary dispositions accomplished, general Burgoyne made a short 
 stop at Crown Point, for the establishment of magazines, an hospital, 
 and other necessary services, and then proceeded with all his troops 
 to invest Ticonderoga. The right wing took the western bank of the 
 lake, the left advanced upon the eastern, and the centre was embarked 
 upon the lake itself. The reduction of this fortress, without which it 
 was impossible for the army to advance a step further, was of course 
 the first object of its operations. Art had added to the natural strength 
 of Ticonderoga, and the unfortunate issue of the attempt made upon 
 it by the British in 1758, when occupied by the French, was still 
 fresh in remembrance. But general Burgoyne, either impatient to 
 avenge this affront, or because the ardor of his army seemed to pro- 
 mise him an easy triumph over the most formidable obstacles, per- 
 suaded himself that its reduction would detain him but a very short 
 time. He arrived under the walls of the place on the first of July. 
 At the same time, the detachment of light troops which, as we 
 have mentioned above, was destined to scour the country of the 
 Mohawks, under the command of sir John Johnson and colonel St. 
 Leger, advanced from Oswego, in order to attack Fort Stanwix. It 
 was intended, after the acquisition of this fortress, to occupy the 
 ground which extends between the same and Fort Edward, situated 
 upon the banks of the Hudson, with a view to intercept the retreat of 
 the garrison of Ticonderoga,. and to rejoin the main army as it 
 advanced. 
 
 The American army, destined to oppose the progress of the royal 
 troops, and to defend Ticonderoga, was altogether insufficient. The 
 garrison had experienced such a diminution during the winter, that it 
 was much feared the English would seize that fortress by assault. The 
 spring being arrived, and the rumors of the enemy's approach re- 
 ceiving daily confirmation, general Schuyler, to whom the Congress had 
 recently given the command of all the troops in that quarter, employed 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 11 
 
 every possible means to procure reenforcements. He desired and 
 hoped to assemble an army of at least ten thousand men, as a smaller 
 number would not be adequate to guard his extensive line of defence. 
 But the affair of recruiting proceeded very tardily. The inhabitants 
 manifested at this time an extreme backwardness to enlist under the 
 banners of Congress, whether from a natural coldness, or because the 
 policy of the English, or the persuasion of the American generals 
 themselves, had given currency to an opinion that the royal army was 
 not to undertake the siege of Ticonderoga; but, that embarking upon 
 the Saint Lawrence, it would proceed by sea, to operate its junction 
 with that under general Howe. Hence, when the royal troops made 
 their sudden appearance under the walls of Ticonderoga, the troops 
 of general Schuyler amounted, at the utmost, to not over five thousand 
 men, including the garrison of the fortress, which consisted of little 
 above three thousand, a number quite inadequate to the defence of 
 so vast a circuit of walls, and of so many outworks. 
 
 Ticonderoga lies upon the western bank of that narrow inlet, by 
 which the water from Lake George is conveyed to Lake Champlain. 
 Crown Point lies about a dozen miles further north, at the opposite 
 extremity of that inlet. The first of these places is situated on an 
 angle of land, which is surrounded on three sides by water, and that 
 covered by steep and difficult rocks. A great part of the fourth side 
 was covered by a deep morass, and where that fails, the old French 
 lines still continued as a defence on the northwest quarter. The 
 Americans had strengthened these lines with additional works and a 
 blockhouse. In like manner, on the left, towards Lake George, and 
 at the place where the sawmills were situated, they had erected new 
 works and blockhouses, as also to the right of the French lines, in the 
 direction of Lake Champlain. On the eastern bank of the inlet, and 
 opposite to Ticonderoga, rises a high circular hill, to which the Ame- 
 ricans gave the name of Mount Independence. On the summit of this 
 hill is a small plain, where they had erected a star fort; the sides and 
 foot of the mountain were strengthened with works to the water's 
 edge, and the intrenchrnents well lined with heavy cannon. In order 
 to maintain a free communication between the fortress and Mount 
 Independence, the Americans had constructed a bridge over the inlet, 
 a work of difficult and laborious execution. The bridge was supported 
 on twenty-two timber piers of vast dimensions, sunken at nearly equal 
 distance; the spaces between these were filled with separate floats ? 
 each about fifty feet long and twelve feet wide, and the whole was 
 held together by chains and rivets of immense size. To prevent the 
 enemy from approaching with his numerous ships, and attempting to 
 force the bridge, it was defended on the side towards Lake Champlain 
 by a boom composed of very large pieces of timber, joined together 
 with iron bolts and chains of prodigious thickness. Thus, not only 
 the passage was kept open between these two posts, but all access by 
 
12 THE AMERICAN WAli. HOOK VIII. 
 
 water from the northern side was totally cut off. The part ol'the inlet 
 which is below Ticonderoga, and which may be considered as the 
 head of Lake Champlain, widens considerably and becomes navigable 
 to vessels of burthen; but the other part, which is above the fortress, 
 and is the issue of Lake George, besides being narrow, is also ren- 
 dered impracticable by shallows and falls. But on its arrival at Ticon- 
 deroga, it is joined by a great body of water on the eastern side, 
 called, in this part, South river, and higher up towards its source, as 
 we have already said in a preceding book, it is known under the Appel- 
 lation of Wood Creek. The confluence of these waters, at Ticon- 
 deroga forms a small bay to the southward of the bridge of communi- 
 cation, and the point of land formed by their junction, is composed of 
 a mountain called Sugar Hill, otherwise known by the name of 
 Mount Defiance. From this mountain the fort of Ticonderoga is 
 overlooked and effectually commanded. This circumstance occa- 
 sioned a consultation among the Americans, in which it was proposed 
 to fortify that mountain ; but finding themselves too feeble to man 
 the fortifications they had already erected, they renounced the design. 
 It was likewise hoped, that the extreme steepness of its ascent, and 
 the savage irregularity of the ground on its summit and sides, would 
 prevent the enemy from attempting to occupy it, at least with artillery. 
 The defence of Ticonderoga was committed to the charge of general 
 St. Clair, with a garrison of three thousand men, one third of whom 
 were militia from the northern provinces. But they were ill equipped, 
 and worse armed, particularly in the article of bayonets, an arm so 
 essential in the defence of lines; not having one to ten of their number. 
 On the second of July, the British right wing under general Phil- 
 lips, having appeared upon the left flank of the fortress, St. Clair, too 
 weak to defend all the outworks, or believing the enemy stronger than 
 he was in reality, immediately ordered the evacuation of the intrench- 
 rnents which had been erected upon the banks of the inlet of Lake 
 George, above Ticonderoga. This order was executed with prompt- 
 itude, not, however, without having first burnt or destroyed -whatever 
 was found in this part, and especially, the blockhouses and sawmills. 
 General Phillips profiting of the occasion, took possession, without 
 the least opposition on the part of the besieged, of a post of great 
 importance, called Mount Hope, which besides commanding their 
 lines in a great and dangerous degree, totally cut off their communi- 
 cation with Lake George. Mount Hope being thus secured, the Bri- 
 tish corps which had advanced upon the western bank of Lake Cham- 
 plain, extended itself from the mountain to the lake, so as completely 
 to invest the fort on the part of the northwest, and to cut off its com- 
 munication with the land. The German column, commanded by 
 Reidesel, which had inarched along the eastern shore of the lake, 
 was also arrived under the walls of the fortress, and was established 
 at Three-miles Point, extending itself from the bank of the lake, be- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 13 
 
 hind Mount Independence, as far as East Creek. From this place, 
 by stretching more forward, it might easily occupy the ground com- 
 prehended between East Creek and South River, or Wood Creek, 
 and thus deprive the Americans of their communication with Skeenes- 
 borough by the right bank of the latter stream. But the most inter- 
 esting post for the English, was that of Mount Defiance, which so 
 completely commanded the fortress that it was beyond all doubt, if 
 batteries were planted there, that the garrison must immediately eva- 
 cuate the place, or surrender at discretion. This eminence being 
 therefore attentively examined by the British generals, they believed 
 it possible, though with infinite labor and difficulty, to establish their 
 artillery upon its summit. This arduous task was immediately un- 
 dertaken and pushed with such spirit and industry, that on the fifth 
 day, the road was completed, the artillery mounted, and ready to 
 open its fire on the following morning. The garrison were afraid to 
 sally out, in order to annoy, or even to retard the besiegers, in these 
 works ; they were, therefore, in danger of losing all way of retreat. 
 St. Clair knew very well that after the loss of Mount Defiance, there 
 was no longer any resource for Ticonderoga, and that he could not 
 even aspire to the honor of a short resistance. The only way of 
 escape that he had left, was the narrow passage between East Creek 
 and Wood Creek, which Reidesel could shut up at any moment. In 
 these circumstances, St. Clair, having convened in council the prin- 
 cipal officers of the garrison, represented to them the critical situation 
 in which they were placed, thus pressed by the enemy, and upon the 
 very point of being hemmed in on every side. He asked them if 
 they did not think it would be proper to evacuate the place without 
 loss of time ; they were all in favor of the measure. 
 
 It is impossible to blame this determination of the council of war 
 of Ticonderoga ; for, independently of the progress already made by 
 the besiegers, the garrison was so feeble that it would not have been 
 able to defend one half of the works, or to sustain, for any length of 
 time, the consequent excess of fatigue. By remaining, therefore, 
 the fortress and the garrison were both lost, by departing, only the 
 first and the second might be saved. It was known also to St. Clair, 
 that general Schuyler, who was then at Fort Edward, far from being 
 able to bring him succour, had not even forces sufficient for his own 
 defence. But here an objection presents itself which has never yet 
 been satisfactorily answered. Since the American generals found 
 their force insufficient for the defence of the place, why did they not 
 evacuate it in time, and when they might have done so with safety ? 
 They would thus have been sure of saving at least their baggage, 
 stores and artillery. If they were deceived respecting the real force 
 of the enemy, and therefore, at first, believed themselves able to 
 resist him, even this error, could only have proceeded from a defect 
 of military skill, so extraordinary as to admit of no excuse. 
 VOL. n. 3 
 
14 TIIE AMERICAN WAll. iiOOK V11I. 
 
 However it was, having taken their resolution, they thought ^of 
 nothing hut executing it with promptitude, and in the night of the 
 fifth of July, they put themselves in motion. General St. Clair led 
 the vanguard, and colonel Francis the rear. The soldiers had re- 
 ceived orders to maintain a profound silence, and to take with them 
 sustenance for eight days. The baggage of the army, the furniture 
 of the hospital, with all the sick, and such artillery, stores and provi- 
 sions as the necessity of the time would permit, were embarked with 
 a strong detachment under colonel Long, on board above two hun- 
 dred batteaux and five armed gallics. On beginning to strike the 
 tents, the lights were extinguished. These preparations were exe- 
 cuted with much order at Ticonderoga; but not without some confu- 
 sion at Mount Independence. The general rendezvous was appointed 
 at Skeenesborough, the batteaux proceeding under convoy of the 
 gallies, up Wood Creek, and the main army taking its route by the 
 way of Castletown, upon the right bank of that stream. St. Clair 
 issued from Ticonderoga at two in the morning ; Francis at four. 
 The English had no suspicion of what was passing, and the march 
 commenced under the most favorable auspices. But all at once a 
 house which took fire on Mount Independence, roused by its glare 
 of light the attention of the English, who immediately perceived all 
 that had taken place. The Americans finding themselves discovered, 
 could not but feel a certain agitation. They marched, however, 
 though in some disorder, as far as Hubbardston, where they halted 
 to refresh themselves, and rally the dispersed. But the English were 
 not idle. General Frazer, at the head of a strong detachment of 
 grenadiers and light troops, commenced an eager pursuit by land, 
 upon the right bank of Wood Creek. General Reidesel, behind him, 
 rapidly advanced with his Brunswickers, either to support the Eng- 
 lish, or to act separately, as occasion might require. General Bur- 
 goyne determined to pursue the enemy by water. But it was first 
 necessary to destroy the boom and bridge which the Americans had 
 constructed in front of Ticonderoga. The British seamen and arti- 
 ficers immediately engaged in the operation, and in less time than it 
 would have taken to describe their structure, those works, which had 
 cost so much labor and so vast an expense, were cut through and 
 demolished. The passage thus cleared, the ships of Burgoyne im- 
 mediately entered Wood Creek, and proceeded with extreme rapi- 
 dity in search of the enemy ; all was in movement at once upon land 
 and water. By three in the afternoon, the van of the British squad- 
 ron, composed of gun boats, came up with, and attacked the Ameri- 
 can gallies, near Skeenesborough Falls. In the meantime, three 
 regiments which had been landed at South Bay, ascended and passed 
 a mountain with great expedition, in order to turn the enemy above 
 Wood Creek, to destroy his works at the falls of Skeenesborough, 
 and thus to cut off his retreat to Fort Anne. But the Americans 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 15 
 
 eluded this stroke by the rapidity of their flight. The British frigates 
 having joined the van, the gailies, already hard pressed by the gun 
 boats, were completely overpowered. Two of them surrendered ; 
 three were blown up. The Americans now despaired ; having set 
 fire to their works, mills, and batteaux, and otherwise destroyed what 
 they were unable to burn, they escaped as well as they could up 
 Wood Creek, without halting till they reached Fort Anne. Their 
 loss was considerable ; for the batteaux they burnt were loaded with 
 baggage, provisions and munitions, as necessary to their sustenance 
 as to military operations. The corps which had set out by land was 
 in no better situation. The vanguard, conducted by St. Clair, was 
 arrived at Castletown, thirty miles distant from Ticonderoga, and 
 twelve from Skeenesborough ; the rear, commanded by colonels 
 Francis and Warner, had rested the night of the sixth at Hubbards- 
 ton, six miles below Castletown, towards Ticonderoga. 
 
 At five o'clock in the morning of the seventh, the English column 
 under general Frazer made its appearance. The Americans were 
 strongly posted, and appeared disposed to defend themselves. Fra- 
 zer, though inferior in point of number, had great confidence in tho 
 valor of his troops. He also expected every moment to be joined 
 by general Reidesel ; and being apprehensive that the enemy might 
 escape if he delayed, he ordered the attack immediately. The 
 battle was long and sanguinary. The Americans being commanded 
 by valiant officers, behaved with great spirit and firmness ; but the 
 English displayed an equal obstinacy. After several shocks with 
 alternate success, the latter began to fall back in disorder ; but their 
 leaders rallied them anew, and led them to a furious charge with the 
 bayonet; the Americans were shaken by its impetuosity. At this 
 critical moment, general Reidesel arrived at the head of his column, 
 composed of light troops and some grenadiers. He immediately 
 took part in the action. The Americans, overpowered by numbers, 
 fled on all sides, leaving their brave commander, with many other 
 officers, and upwards of two hundred soldiers, dead on the field. 
 About the same number, besides colonel Hale, and seventeen officers 
 of inferior rank, were made prisoners. Above six hundred were 
 supposed to be wounded, many of whom, deprived of all succour, 
 perished miserably in the woods. The loss of the royal troops in 
 dead and wounded amounted to about one hundred and eighty. 
 General St. Clair, upon intelligence of this discomfiture, and that of 
 the disaster at Skeenesborough, which was brought him at the same 
 time by an officer of one of the gailies, apprehending that he should 
 be interrupted if he proceeded towards Fort Anne, struck into the 
 woods on his left, uncertain whether he should repair to New Eng- 
 land and the upper part of Connecticut, or to Fort Edward. But 
 being joined two days after at Manchester by the remains of the 
 corps of colonel Warner, and having collected the fugitives, he 
 proceeded to Fort Edward, in order to unite with general Schuyier. 
 
16 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 While these events were passing on the left, the English generals 
 resolved to drive the Americans from Fort Anne, situated higher up 
 towards the sources of Wood Creek. Colonel Hill was detached 
 for this purpose from Skeenesborough, and to facilitate his operations, 
 the greatest exertions were made in carrying batteaux over the falls 
 of that place ; which enabled him to attack the fort also by water. 
 Upon intelligence that the Americans had a numerous garrison there, 
 brigadier Powell was sent with two regiments to the succour of colo- 
 nel Hill. The American colonel Long,. who with a great part of his 
 corps had escaped the destruction of the boats at the falls, command- 
 ed the garrison of Fort Anne. Having heard that the enemy was 
 approaching, he gallantly sallied out to receive him. The English 
 defended themselves with courage, but the Americans had already 
 nearly surrounded them. Colonel Hill finding himself too hard 
 pressed, endeavored to take a stronger position. This movement 
 was executed with as much order as intrepidity, amidst the reiterated 
 and furious charges of the enemy. The combat had lasted for more 
 than two hours, and victory was still doubtful, when all at once the 
 Americans heard the horrible yells of the savages, who approached ; 
 and being informed at the same instant that the corps of Powell was 
 about to fall upon them, they retired to Fort Anne. Not thinking 
 themselves in safety even there, they set it on fire, and withdrew to 
 Fort Edward on the river Hudson. 
 
 General Schuyler was already in this place, and St. Clair arrived 
 there on the twelfth, with the remains of the garrison of Ticonderoga. 
 It would be difficult to describe the hardships and misery which these 
 troops had suffered, from the badness of the weather and the want 
 of covering and provisions, in their circuitous march through the 
 woods, from Castletown to Fort Edward. After the arrival of these 
 corps, and of the fugitives, who came in by companies, all the 
 American troops amounted to little over four thousand men, including 
 the militia. They were in want of all necessaries, and even of 
 courage, by the effect of their recent reverses. The Americans lost 
 in these different actions, no less than one hundred and twenty-eight 
 pieces of artillery, with a prodigious quantity of warlike stores, 
 baggage and provisions, particularly of flour, which they left in 
 Ticonderoga and Mount Independence. To increase the calamity, 
 the whole of the neighboring country was struck with terror by this 
 torrent of disasters, and the inhabitants thought more of providing 
 for their own safety, than of flying to the succour of their country in 
 jeopardy. 
 
 In a conjuncture so alarming, general Schuyler neglected none of 
 those cares which become an able commander, and an excellent citi- 
 zen. Already, while the enemy was assembling at Skeenesborough, 
 he had endeavored to interrupt, with all manner of obstacles, the 
 navigation of Wood Creek, from that place to Fort Anne, where it 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 17 
 
 determined even for batteaux. The country between Fort Anne 
 and Fort Edward (a distance of only sixteen miles) is excessively 
 rough and savage ; the ground is unequal, and broken with numerous 
 creeks, and with wide and deep morasses. 
 
 General Schuyler neglected no means of adding by art to the 
 difficulties with which nature seemed to have purposely interdicted 
 this passage. Trenches were opened, the roads and paths obstructed, 
 the bridges broken up; and in the only practicable defiles, immense 
 trees were cut in such a manner, on both sides of the road, as to fall 
 across and lengthwise, which, with their branches interwoven, present- 
 ed an insurmountable barrier; in a word, this wilderness, of itself so 
 horrible, was thus rendered almost absolutely impenetrable. Nor did 
 the American general rest satisfied with these precautions ; he direct- 
 ed the cattle to be removed to the most distant places, and the stores 
 and baggage from Fort George to Fort Edward, that articles of such 
 necessity for his troops, might not fall into the power of the enemy. 
 He urgently demanded that all the regiments of regular troops found 
 in the adjacent provinces, should be sent, without delay, to join him; 
 he also made earnest and frequent calls upon the militia of New 
 England and of New York. He likewise exerted his utmost endea- 
 vors to procure himself recruits in the vicinity of Fort Edward and 
 the city of Albany ; the great influence he enjoyed with the inha- 
 bitants, gave him, in this quarter, all the success he could desire. 
 Finally, to retard the progress of the enemy, he resolved to threaten 
 his left flank; accordingly he detached colonel Warner, with his 
 regiment, into the state of Vermont, with orders to assemble the 
 militia of the country, and to make incursions towards Ticonderoga. 
 In brief, general Schuyler neglected no means that could tend to 
 impede or defeat the projects of the enemy. 
 
 While he thus occupied himself with so much ardor, general 
 Burgoyne was detained at Skeenesborough, as well by the difficulty 
 of the ground he had to pass, as because he chose to wait for the 
 arrival of tents, baggage, artillery and provisions, so absolutely neces- 
 sary before plunging himself into these fearful solitudes. His army 
 at this time was disposed in the following manner ; the right occupied 
 the heights of Skeenesborough, the German division of Reidesel 
 forming its extremity ; the left, composed of Brunswickers, extending 
 into the plain, rested upon the river of Castletown, and the brigade 
 of Frazer formed the centre. The regiment of Hessians, of Hanau, 
 was posted at the source of East Creek, to protect the camp of 
 Castletown, and the batteaux upon Wood Creek, against the incur- . 
 sions of Colonel Warner. In the meantime, indefatigable labor was 
 exerted in removing all obstacles to the navigation of this stream, as 
 also in clearing passages, and opening roads through the country 
 about Fort Anne. The design of Burgoyne was, that the main body 
 of the army should penetrate through the wilderness we have just 
 
18 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 described, to Fort Edward, while another column, embarking at 
 Ticonderoga, should proceed up Lake George, reduce the fort of 
 that name, situated at its extremity, and afterwards rejoin him at 
 Fort Edward. Upon the acquisition of Fort George, the stores, 
 provisions and necessaries were to be conveyed to the camp by way 
 of the lake, the navigation of which is easier and more expeditious 
 than that of Wood Creek, and there was, besides, a good wagon road 
 between the two forls. Such were the efforts exerted by the two 
 belligerents ; the English believing themselves secure of victory ; the 
 Americans hardly venturing to hope for better fortune. Nothing 
 could exceed the consternation and terror which the victory of 
 Ticonderoga, and the subsequent successes of Burgoyne, spread 
 throughout the American provinces, nor the joy and exultation they 
 excited in England. The arrival of these glad tidings was celebrated 
 by the most brilliant rejoicings at court, and welcomed with the same 
 enthusiasm by all those who desired the unconditional reduction of 
 America. They already announced the approaching termination of 
 this glorious war; they openly declared it a thing impossible, that the 
 rebels should ever recover from the shock of their recent losses, as 
 well of men as of arms and of military stores ; and especially that 
 they should ever regain their courage and reputation, whirh, in war, 
 contribute to success, as much, at least, as arms themselves. Even 
 the ancient reproaches of cowardice were renewed against the 
 Americans, and their own partisans abated much of the esteem they 
 had borne them. They were more than half disposed to pronounce 
 the colonists unworthy to defend that liberty, which they gloried in, 
 with so much complacency. The ministers, pluming themselves 
 upon their good fortune, marched through the court as if to exact 
 the tribute of felicitation. No praises were refused them ; their 
 obstinacy was denominated constancy ; their projects, which had 
 appeared full of temerity, were now acknowledged to have been 
 dictated by the profoundest sagacity ; and their pertinacity in reject- 
 ing every proposition for accommodation, was pronounced to have 
 been a noble zeal for the interests of the state. The military coun- 
 sels of the ministers having resulted in such brilliant success, even 
 those who had heretofore inclined for the ways of conciliation, 
 welcomed with all sail this prosperous breeze of fortune, and appeared 
 now rather to wish the reduction, than the voluntary reunion of the 
 Americans. 
 
 But in America, the loss of the fortress and the lakes, which were 
 . considered as the keys of the United States, appeared the more 
 alarming, as it was unexpected ; for, the greater part of the inhabit- 
 ants, as well as the Congress, and Washington himself, were im- 
 pressed with a belief, that the British army in Canada was weaker, 
 and that of general Schuyler stronger, than they were in effect. 
 They entertained no doubt in particular, that the garrison left in 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAIt. 19 
 
 Ticonderoga was sufficient for its entire security. Malignity began 
 to assail the reputation of the officers of the northern army ; its 
 envenomed shafts were especially aimed at St. Ciair. Schuyler 
 himself, that able general and devoted patriot, whose long services 
 had only been repaid by long ingratitude, escaped not the serpent 
 tongue of calumny. As the friend of the New Yorkers, he was no 
 favorite with the inhabitants of New England, and the latter were 
 those who aspersed him with the most bitterness. The Congress, 
 for the honor of their arms, and to satisfy the people, decreed an 
 an inquiry into the conduct of the officers, and that successors should 
 be despatched to relieve them in command. The result of the 
 investigation was favorable to them ; by the intercession of Washing- 
 ton, the appointment of successors was waived. But what was not a 
 little remarkable, is, that in the midst of all these disasters, no sort of 
 disposition to submit appeared in any quarter. No public body dis- 
 covered symptoms of dismay, and if a few individuals betrayed a 
 want of firmness, they were chiefly persons without influence, and 
 without character. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Congress apprehending that the news of these 
 sinister events might operate to the prejudice of the negotiations 
 opened with the court of France, and, as it too often happens, being 
 more tender of their own interests than of the reputation of their 
 generals, they hesitated not to disguise the truth of facts, by throwing 
 upon St. Clair the imputation of imbecility and misconduct. Their 
 agents were accordingly instructed to declare that all these reverses 
 were to be attributed to those officers who, with a garrison of five 
 thousand men, well armed and equipped, had wanted capacity to 
 defend an almost impregnable fortress ; that, as for the rest, the 
 Americans, far from being discouraged, only waited for the occasion 
 to avenge their defeats. Washington, who in this crisis as in all the 
 preceding, manifested an unshaken constancy, was entirely occupied 
 in providing means to confirm the tottering state of the republic ; he 
 exerted the utmost diligence in sending reenforcements and necessa- 
 ries to the army of Schuyler. The artillery and warlike stores were 
 expedited from Massachusetts. General Lincoln, a man of great 
 influence in New England, was sent there to encourage the militia to 
 enlist. Arnold, in like manner, repaired thither ; it was thought 
 his ardor might serve to inspirit the dejected troops. Colonel Mor- 
 gan, an officer whose brilliant valor we have already had occasion to 
 remark, was ordered to take the same direction with his troop of 
 light horse. All these measures, conceived with prudence and ex- 
 ecuted with promptitude, produced the natural effect. The Ame- 
 ricans recovered by degrees their former ardor, and their army 
 increased from day to day. 
 
 During this interval, general Burgoyne exerted himself with ex- 
 treme diligence in opening a passage from Fort Anne to Fort 
 
20 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 Edward. But notwithstanding the ardor with which the whole army 
 engaged in the work, their progress was exceedingly slow ; so formi- 
 dable were the obstacles which nature as well as art had thrown in 
 their way. Besides having to remove the fallen trees with which 
 the enerny had obstructed the roads, they had no less than forty 
 bridges to construct, and many others to repair. Finally, the army 
 encountered so many impediments in measuring this inconsiderable 
 space, that it could not arrive upon the banks of the Hudson, near 
 Fort Edward, until the thirtieth of July. The Americans, either 
 because they were too feeble to oppose the enemy, or that Fort 
 Edward was no better than a ruin, unsusceptible of defence, or 
 finally, because they were apprehensive that colonel St. Leger, after 
 the reduction of Fort Stanwix might descend by the left bank of the 
 Mohawk to the Hudson, and thus intercept their retreat, retired lower 
 down to Stillwater, where they threw up intrenchments. At the 
 same time they evacuated Fort George, having previously burned 
 their vessels upon the lake, and interrupted in various places the 
 road which leads thence to Fort Edward. The route from Ticon- 
 deroga to this fortress by Lake George was thus left entirely open 
 by the republicans. The English, upon their arrival on the Hudson 
 river, which had been so long the object of their wishes, and which 
 had been at length attained at the expense of so many toils and hard- 
 ships, were seized with a delirium of joy, and persuaded themselves 
 that victory could now no longer escape them. But ere it was long, 
 their brilliant hopes were succeeded by anxiety and embarrassment; 
 All the country around them was hostile, and they could obtain no 
 provisions but what they drew from Ticonderoga. Accordingly, 
 from the thirtieth of July to the fifteenth of August, the English army 
 was continually employed in forwarding batteaux, provisions, and 
 ammunition, from Fort George to the first navigable part of the 
 Hudson, a distance of about eighteen miles. The toil was excessive 
 in this operation, and the advantage gained by it in no degree an 
 equivalent to the expense of labor and time. The roads were in 
 some parts steep, and in others required great repairs. Of the 
 horses that were expected from Canada, scarcely one third were yet- 
 arrived, and it was with difficulty that fifty pair of oxen had been 
 procured. Heavy and continual rains added to these impediments ; 
 and notwithstanding all the efforts which had been used, it was found 
 difficult to supply the army with provisions for its current consump- 
 tion, and utterly impracticable in this mode to establish such a maga- 
 zine as would enable it to prosecute the further operations of the 
 campaign. On the fifteenth, there was not above four days' provi- 
 sion in store, nor above ten batteaux in the Hudson river. 
 
 General Burgoyne was severely censured, as well for having lost 
 so much time by crossing the wilderness of Fort Anne, as for having 
 exposed himself to want subsistence in his camp at Fort Edward. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 24 
 
 It was alleged that, instead of entangling himself in those dangerous 
 defiles, he should, after the occupation of Skeenesborough and the 
 total discomfiture of the enemy's army, have returned immediately 
 down the South river to Ticonderoga, where he might again have 
 embarked the army on Lake George, and proceeded to the fort 
 which takes its name ; this being reduced, a broad firm road lay 
 before him to Fort Edward. In this manner, it was added, would 
 have been avoided delays as detrimental to the British army, as pro- 
 pitious to the Americans. Thus, it was maintained, the army might 
 have made itself master of Albany, before the enemy would have 
 had time to recollect himself. But, in justification of Burgoyne, it 
 was advanced, that a retrograde motion in the height of victory, 
 would have diminished the spirit of his troops, and revived the hopes 
 of the enemy ; that the Americans would undoubtedly have made a 
 stand at Fort George, and in the meantime would have broken up the 
 road leading to Fort Edward ; that by passing, as he had done, 
 through the desert of Fort Anne, besides inuring his troops to the 
 war of the woods, a war so embarrassing and difficult, he compelled 
 the enemy to evacuate Fort George without striking a blow ; that 
 having already opened himself a road, it was to be hoped the Ame- 
 ricans would not interrupt the other ; that the route by land left the 
 vessels, which would have been required for the transport of the 
 troops, upon Lake George, at liberty to be employed in that of arms, 
 ammunition, provisions, and baggage. Finally, it was represented, 
 that by preferring the way upon the left to that upon the right by 
 Lake George, he had enabled himself to detach a strong corps under 
 the command of general Reidesel, to agitate alarms in Connecticut 
 and throughout the country of Vermont. !;jT, ')o tfs. 
 
 However, the truth was, Schuyler profited with great dexterity of 
 these delays. Several regiments of regular troops from Peek's Kill 
 were already arrived at the camp, and although it was then the sea- 
 son of harvest, the militia of New England assembled from all 
 quarters^ and hastened to join the principal army. These reenforce- 
 inents placed it in a situation, if not to resume the offensive, at least 
 to occupy all the tenable positions, and defend them with energy and 
 effect. :{ noxo ! 
 
 In the meantime, general Burgoyne received intelligence that 
 colonel St. Leger, whose detachment had been reenforced by a con- 
 siderable party of savages, after descending by the Lake Oneida 
 from Oswego, in the country of the Mohawks, had arrived before, 
 and was closely besieging, Fort Stanwix. He immediately conceived 
 the hope of deriving an important advantage from this operation. 
 For if the American army in his front proceeded up the Mohawk to 
 the relief of Fort Stanwix, the English found the way open to Alba- 
 ny, and thus attained the first object of their desires. Moreover, if 
 St. Leger succeeded, the Americans would find themselves between 
 VOL. u. 4 
 
22 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 two royal armies, that of St. Leger in front, and that of Burgoyne 
 in rear. If, on the other hand, the republicans abandoned Fort 
 Stanwix to its fate, and withdrew towards Albany, the country on the 
 Mohawk would fall into the power of the English, and they might 
 form a junction with colonel St. Leger. Their army thus reenforced, 
 and victualled by the Mohawks, would be in a situation to move 
 forward. From these operations it must result, either that the enemy 
 would resolve to stand an action, and, in this case, Burgoyne felt 
 assured of victory ; or, that he would gradually retire down the 
 Hudson, and thus abandon to the English the city of Albany. If 
 the propriety of a rapid movement forward was therefore evident, 
 the difficulty of finding means to execute it was not less manifest, as 
 the want of subsistence still continued ; and this want would of 
 necessity increase with the distance of the army from the lakes, 
 through which it received its provisions. To maintain such a com- 
 munication with Fort George, during the whole time of so extensive 
 a movement, as would secure the convoys from being intercepted by 
 the enemy, was obviously impracticable. The army was too weak 
 to afford a chain of posts for such an extent ; and continual escorts 
 for every separate supply, would be a still greater drain. Burgoyne 
 therefore perceived distinctly that he must have recourse to some 
 other source of supply, or totally relinquish the enterprise. He 
 knew that the Americans had accumulated considerable stores of 
 live cattle, corn, and other necessaries, besides a large number of 
 wheel carriages, at a village called Bennington, situated between two 
 streams, which, afterwards uniting, form the river Hosack. This 
 place lies only twenty miles distant from the Hudson ; it was the 
 repository of all the supplies intended for the republican camp, which 
 were expedited from New England by the upper part of Connecticut 
 river, and thence through the country of Vermont. From Benning- 
 ton they were conveyed, as occasion required, to the different parts 
 of the army. The magazines were only guarded, however, by 
 detachments of militia, whose numbers varied continually, as they 
 went and came at discretion. Though the distance was considerable 
 from the carnp of Burgoyne to Bennington, yet as the whole country 
 through which the corps of Reidesel had lately passed appeared 
 peaceable, and even well inclined to submission, the English general, 
 impelled by necessity, and allured by an ardent thirst of glory, did 
 not despair of being able to surprise Bennington, and bring off the 
 provisions of the enemy by means of his own carriages. Having 
 taken this resolution, he entrusted the execution of it to lieutenant- 
 colonel Baum, a German officer of great bravery, and well versed in 
 this sort of partisan war. 
 
 The force allotted to this service, amounted to about five hundred 
 men, consisting of two hundred of Reidesel's dismounted dragoons, 
 captain Frazer's marksmen, the Canada volunteers, a party of pro- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 23 
 
 vincials who were perfectly acquainted with the country, and about a 
 hundred Indians ; the corps took with them two light pieces of artil- 
 lery. At the same time lieutenant-colonel Breyman, with his regi- 
 ment of Brunswick grenadiers and light infantry, marched down 
 towards Bennington, and took post at Batten Kill, in order, if neces- 
 sary, to support Baum. The latter had received from general 
 Burgoyne very suitable instructions ; he was to exercise extreme 
 caution in the choice of his posts ; to have the country diligently 
 explored by the Indians, on the part of Otter Creek, and towards 
 Connecticut river ; he was not to allow^his regular troops to scatter, 
 but to keep them always in a compact body ; he was to march light 
 troops in front and rear of his column, to guard against ambuscades ; 
 he was ordered not to hazard dubious rencounters, but if the enemy 
 came upon him in superior force, to" take a strong position and in- 
 trench himself; he was to give out that the whole army was upon 
 the march for Connecticut ; finally, he was to rejoin the army at 
 Albany. Burgoyne, in order to facilitate this operation, and to hold 
 the republican army in check, moved with all his troops down the 
 left bank of the Hudson, and established his camp nearly opposite to 
 Saratoga, having, at the same time, thrown a bridge of rafts over, by 
 which the advanced corps were passed to that place. 
 
 These demonstrations tended to inspire the belief that all the 
 British army was about to cross the river, in order to attack the 
 enemy, who still continued to occupy his encampment at Stillwater. 
 
 According to the plan which had been traced for him, lieutenant- 
 colonel Baum set forward upon his march with equal celerity and 
 caution. He very shortly fell in with a party of the enemy, who 
 were escorting some cattle and provisions, both of which he took 
 with little difficulty and sent back to the camp ; but that evil fortune 
 soon began to appear, which had already so fatally retarded the 
 royal army. The want of horses and carriages, and the roads now 
 become heavy and slippery, in consequence of the bad weather, ren- 
 dered the advance of Baum excessively tedious. Hence the enemy, 
 who stood upon their guard at Bennington, were seasonably informed 
 of his approach. Colonel Stark, who had lately arrived with a 
 corps of militia he had assembled in New Hampshire, commanded 
 in that town. He sent with all speed to request colonel Warner, 
 who, since the defeat of Hubbardston, had taken post at Manchester, 
 to march to his assistance. All these troops, reenforced with some 
 of the neighboring rnilitia, amounted to about two thousand men. 
 Upon the intelligence that the enemy approached, Stark detached 
 colonel Gregg upon the lookout ; supposing at first it might be only 
 a party of savages who were scouring the country. When he had 
 discovered that they were regular troops, he fell back to his principal 
 position at Bennington. Lieutenant-colonel Baum, on his part, hav- 
 ing learnt that the enemy were too strong to be attacked byjiis 
 
24 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 present force without temerity, sent immediately to Breyman, appris- 
 ing him of his situation, ,and pressing him to hasten- to his succour. 
 In the meantime, he took an excellent post near Santcoick Mills, on 
 the" banks of Walloon Creek, about four miles from Bennington, and 
 there intrenched himself. 
 
 But Stark, not choosing to wait for the junction of the two parties, 
 determined to attack him. Accordingly, on the morning of the six- 
 teenth of August, he issued from Bennington, and advanced with his 
 troops divided in several corps, in order to surround the posts of 
 Baum, and assault them on all sides at once. The latter, on seeing 
 the Americans approach, persuaded himself that they were bodies of 
 loyalists coming up to join him. A number of refugees, who made 
 part of his detachment, had prevailed upon an 'officer, more familiar 
 with arms than with civil contentions, to adopt the absurd hopes and 
 chimerical conceits with which they habitually deceived themselves. 
 Having at length discovered his error, he defended himself with 
 great valor. But such was the impetuosity, and even the superiority 
 of the Americans, that he could not resist them long ; having carried 
 all before them, and taken his two pieces of cannon, they poured on 
 every side into his intrenchments. The savages, Canadians and 
 British marksmen, profiting of their activity, escaped in the woods. 
 The German dragoons still kept together, and when their ammu- 
 nition was expended, were bravely led by their commander to 
 charge with their swords. But they were soon overwhelmed, and 
 the survivors, among whom was their wounded colonel, were made 
 prisoners. 
 
 In the meantime, Breyman had set forward from Batten Kill to 
 the succour of Baum ; and although he was on the march by eight 
 in the morning of the fifteenth, had continued it without intermission, 
 and the distance was not over twenty-four miles ; yet, so many and 
 so formidable were the impediments he encountered, from the bad- 
 ness of the roads, rendered still more difficult by the continual rain, 
 and from the weakness and tiring of horses in getting forward the 
 artillery, that he was unable to reach the camp of Baum, till after 
 fortune had already pronounced in favor of the Americans. It is 
 asserted that he had received no timely information of the engage- 
 ment, and that his first knowledge of it was brought him by the fugi- 
 tives. It was four in the afternoon when he appeared before the 
 intrenchments of Baum, where, instead of meeting his friends, he 
 found his detachment attacked on all sides by enemies. Though his 
 men were excessively fatigued, they defended themselves with great 
 spirit and resolution. As many of the provincial militia had dis- 
 banded to pillage, the action was maintained at first with an equality 
 of advantage, and there was even danger that Breyman would 
 recover what Baum had lost. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 He had already dislodged the Americans from two or three differ- 
 ent hills on which they had posts, and he pressed them so vigorously 
 that they hegan to exhibit symptoms of disorder. But the affair 
 soon assumed a quite different aspect ; colonel Warner arrived at 
 the head of his regiment of the line, and falling upon the rear of the 
 English and Germans, restored the battle with increase of vehe- 
 mence. The militia that were dispersed in quest of plunder, on 
 hearing the report of the cannon, immediately rallied. Victory, 
 however, remained doubtful till the dusk of evening ; on one side 
 combated valor and discipline, on the other, number and fury. 
 
 At length the soldiers of Breyman, overpowered by numbers, hav- 
 ing expended all their ammunition, and lost the two pieces of artillery 
 they had been at such -pains to bring with them, began to give ground, 
 and afterwards to break. They abandoned the field of battle, and 
 in the precipitation of their retreat, left in the power of the conqueror 
 all their baggage, a thousand muskets and nearly as many sabres. 
 The obscurity of night covered their retreat. The royalists lost, in 
 these two engagements, seven hundred men, the greater part prison- 
 ers ; the number of killed was probably about two hundred. The 
 loss of the republicans was inconsiderable. The Congress addressed 
 their public thanks to colonel Stark and the militia who took part in 
 the actions of this day. Stark was moreover promoted to the rank 
 of brigadier-general. 
 
 In the country of the Mohawks the affairs of the English took, at 
 first, the most favorable turn. Colonel St. Leger had encamped, 
 the third of August, under Fort Stanwix. The force under his com- 
 mand, consisting: of English, Germans, Canadians and American loy- 
 alists, amounted to about eight hundred men. He was followed by 
 a train of'savages, with their wives and children, thirsting indeed for 
 carnage and plunder, but feeble auxiliaries in besieging fortresses. 
 Colonel Gansevort, on being summoned by the English, answered 
 that he should defend himself to the last. Apprised of this state of 
 things, and knowing the importance of this fort to the United States, 
 general Harkimer, a leading man in the county of Tryon, assembled 
 the militia and marched with all expedition to the relief of Gansevort. 
 He sent an express from his camp of Erick, six miles from the fort, 
 to inform him, .that he was about to advance and make every exertion 
 to effect his junction with the garrison. Gansevort directed lieute- 
 nant-colonel Willet to make a sally upon the British lines, in order 
 to favor the attempt of Harkimer ; but the English commander per- 
 ceiving how dangerous it was to receive the enemy in his intrench- 
 ments, and knowing full well how much better the Indians were 
 adapted for the attack than for acting upon the defensive, detached 
 colonel Johnson,' with a part of the regular troops and the Indians, 
 to intercept the Americans upon their approach. General Harkimer 
 advanced with extreme negligence, without examination of his 
 
;>G THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 ground, without a reconnoitring party in front, and without rangers 
 upon his flanks ; a thing the more surprising, as he could not have 
 been ignorant how liable he was to ambuscades from the nature of 
 the country, and the singular adroitness of the savages in that mode 
 of war. These barbarians soon found occasion to give him a san- 
 guinary proof of it. They concealed themselves with a detachment 
 of regulars in the woods near the road by which the Americans 
 approached. The moment the column had passed, they suddenly 
 fell upon the rear guard with inconceivable fury. After the first fire 
 the Indians rushed on with their spears and hatchets, and killed with 
 the same cruelty those who resisted and those who surrendered. 
 The disorder became extreme ; the carnage was frightful ; and 
 even the horrible aspect of the principal actors, contributed to 
 heighten the terrors of the scene. The republicans, however, re- 
 covered from their first surprise, and forming themselves into a solid 
 column, attained an advantageous ground, which enabled them to 
 maintain a spirited resistance. They would, nevertheless, have been 
 overborne by the number and fury of the enemy, if the intelligence 
 of the attack upon his camp by colonel Willet had not induced him 
 to retire. Four hundred Americans were slain, and among them 
 general Harkimer. Many of the most distinguished men of the 
 province, and several of the most considerable magistrates shared 
 the same fate. The royalists looked upon this success as a sure 
 pledge of the approaching reduction of the rebels. Their victory, 
 however, was not bought without blood ; besides a certain number 
 of regulars, about sixty Indians were killed and wounded, among 
 whom were several of their principal chiefs, and of their most dis- 
 tinguished and favorite warriors. It appears also, that in the heat and 
 confusion of the conflict, several savages were killed by the English 
 themselves. Thus, these intraqtable and undisciplined barbarians, 
 by nature ferocious, and inclined to suspicion, irritated at finding a 
 resistance to which they had not been accustomed, became still more 
 refractory and still more ruthless. They wreaked the first trans- 
 ports of their rage upon the unhappy prisoners, whom they inhu- 
 manly butchered in cold blood. Submission to European officers 
 became insupportable to them, and they refused to obey. It was 
 now perceived, that their presence was more prejudicial, and even 
 more dangerous, than useful to the British army. 
 
 Meanwhile, colonel Willet had conducted his sally with great spirit 
 and ability. He entered the enemy's camp at the first onset, killed 
 a great number of his men, and drove the rest into the woods or into 
 the river. But his sole object being to make a diversion in favor ot 
 Harkimer, as soon as he had accomplished it, he returned into the 
 fort, carrying with him in triumph the spoil and besieging utensils 
 that he had taken from the enemy. The English were desirous of 
 intercepting his retreat, and had prepared an ambuscade for the pur- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. '21 
 
 pose ; but his vigilance eluded the danger ; he kept the assailants at 
 a distance by a violent fire of musketry, and of artillery with grape- 
 shot. He led back his whole corps without loss, and raised a trophy 
 composed of the conquered arms and baggage under the American 
 standard, which waved upon the walls of the fortress. He afterwards 
 undertook, in company with another officer, named Stockwell, a 
 much more perilous expedition. They passed by night through the 
 English camp, and in contempt of the danger and cruelty of the 
 savages made their way for fifty miles through pathless woods and 
 unexplored morasses, in order to raise the country and bring relief 
 to the fort; an action so magnanimous it is impossible to commend 
 too much. 
 
 Colonel St. Leger left no means untried to profit of his victory, by 
 intimidating the garrison. He sent verbal and written messages, 
 stating their hopeless situation, the utter destruction of their friends, 
 the impossibility of their obtaining relief, as general Burgoyne, after 
 destroying every thing in his way, was now at Albany, receiving the 
 submission of all the adjoining countries. After prodigiously magni- 
 fying his own force, as well as that of Burgoyne, he promised the 
 Americans, that, in case of an immediate surrender, they should be 
 treated according to the practice of civilised nations ; at the same 
 time he declared, that if, through an incorrigible obstinacy, they 
 should continue a hopeless and fruitless defence, not only the soldiers 
 would fall victims to the fury of the savages, but that, however against 
 his will, every man, woman, and child, in the Mohawk country, would 
 be massacred and scalped without mercy. 
 
 Colonel Gansevort replied with great firmness, that he had been 
 entrusted with the charge of that garrison by the United States of 
 America ; that he should defend the trust committed to his care at 
 every hazard, and to the utmost extremity ; and that he neither 
 thought himself accountable for, nor should he at all concern himself 
 about any consequences that attended the discharge of his duty. He 
 had very judiciously conjectured, that if the force of the British com- 
 mander had been sufficient, he would have made a more simple 
 summons, or would have attacked the fort immediately, without wast- 
 ing his time in drawing up so extraordinary a bravado. The British 
 commander, finding that neither ambushes nor threats could effect 
 his purpose, turned all his thoughts upon a regular siege. But he 
 was not long in perceiving that the fort was stronger, and much better 
 defended, than it had been reported. He also found by experience, 
 that his artillery was not sufficient in weight to make much impression 
 at a certain distance. The only remedy was, to bring his approaches 
 so near that they must take effect ; which he set about with the 
 greatest diligence. But the savages, from the dissatisfaction they 
 felt at their late losses, and from the disappointment of their 
 hopes of plunder, became every day more sullen and ungovern- 
 
28 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 able. The English commander was in continual apprehension that 
 they would pillage his camp, and abandon the British standard. 
 In this disagreeable situation, he was informed that general Arnold 
 was rapidly approaching, at the head of a strong detachment, to 
 relieve the fort. It appears that general Schuyler, upon intelligence 
 that the fort which had taken his name, was besieged, had despatch- 
 ed Arnold to its succour, with a brigade of regular troops commanded 
 by general Larned, which was afterwards reenforced by a thousand 
 light infantry detached by general pates. Arnold had advanced with 
 his usual celerity up the Mohawk river, but before he had got half 
 way, having learnt that Gansevort was hard pushed by the enemy, 
 and knowing all the importance of expedition, he quitted the main 
 body, and with a light armed detachment of only nine hundred men. 
 set forward by forced marches towards the fortress. The Indians, 
 who were incessantly upon the lookout, were soon informed of his 
 approach, either by their own scouts, or by the spies that were de- 
 spatched by, Arnold himself, who prodigiousjy exaggerated his 
 strength. At the name of Arnold, and in their present temper, they 
 were seized with terror and dismay. Other scouts arrived immedi- 
 ately after with a report, which probably grew out of the affair of 
 Bennington, that Burgoyne's army was entirely cut to pieces. They 
 would now stay no longer, and assembled tumultuously, intending to 
 abandon the camp. Colonel St. Leger endeavored to dissipate their 
 terrors and detain them, by promising to lead them himself, to bring 
 all his best troops into action, and by carrying their leaders out to 
 mark a field of battle, and the flattery of consulting them upon the 
 intended plan of operation. Finally, the British commander called 
 a council of their chiefs, hoping, that by the influence which colonel 
 Johnson, and the superintendents Glaus and Butler had over them, 
 they might still be induced to make a stand. He was disappointed. 
 A part of the savages decamped whilst the council was sitting, and 
 the remainder threatened peremptorily to abandon him if he did not 
 immediately retreat. The English were forced to comply with their 
 demands. They raised the siege the twenty-second of August, and 
 jetreated, or rather fled, towards Lake Oneida. Their tents, artil- 
 lery, and stores, fell into the hands of the enemy ; who, issuing from 
 the fort, assailed their rear guard, and treated it very roughly. Bui 
 the British troops were exposed to greater danger from the fury of 
 their savage allies, than even from the pursuit of the republicans. 
 During the retreat, they robbed the officers of their baggage, and 
 the army in general of their provisions. Not content with this, they 
 first stripped of their arms, and afterwards murdered with their own 
 bayonets, all those who, from an inability to keep up, fear, or any 
 other cause, were separated from the main body. It would be in 
 vain to attempt a description of the confusion, the terror, and all the 
 miseries which attended this discomfiture of the royal troops. They 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 29 
 
 arrived, however, at length, upon the lake, where they found some 
 repose. St. Leger returned to Montreal, and afterwards passed to 
 Ticonderoga, on his way to join Burgoyne. Arnold arrived at the 
 fort in the evening of the twenty-fourth, two days after the siege had 
 been raised ; he and his soldiers were welcomed by the garrison, 
 with the acknowledgment of deliverance, and the exultation of vic- 
 tory. 
 
 By the affairs of Bennington, and this of Fort Schuyler, it appeared 
 that fortune began to smile upon the cause of the Americans. These 
 successes produced the more happy effect upon their minds, the 
 more they were unexpected ; for since the fatal stroke which deprived 
 them of Montgomery, they had found this war of Canada but one 
 continued series of disasters. Their late discouragement and timi- 
 dity, were instantly converted into confidence and ardor. The Eng- 
 lish, on the contrary, could not witness without apprehension, the 
 extinction of those brilliant hopes, which, from their first advantages, 
 they had been led to entertain. 
 
 Thus the face of things had experienced a total change ; and this 
 army, of late the object of so much terror for the Americans, was 
 now looked upon as a prey which could not escape them. The ex- 
 ploit of Bennington, in particular, had inspired the militia with great 
 confidence in themselves ; since they had not only combated, but 
 repulsed and vanquished, the regular troops of the royal army, both 
 English and German. 
 
 They began now to forget all distinctions between themselves and 
 troops of the line, and the latter made new exertions and more stre- 
 nuous efforts to maintain their established reputation for superiority 
 over the militia. Having lost all hope of seizing the magazines at 
 Bennington, general Burgoyne experienced anew the most alarming 
 scarcity of provisions. But on the other hand, the successes of the 
 Americans under the walls of Fort Schuyler, besides having inspirited 
 the militia, produced also this other happy effect, that of enabling 
 them, now liberated from the fear of invasion in the country upon the 
 Mohawk, to unite all their forces on the banks of the Hudson against 
 the army of Burgoyne. The country people took arms in multitudes, 
 and hastened to the camp. The moment was favorable ; the harvests 
 were ended, and the arrival of general Gates to take the command 
 of the army, gave a new spur to their alacrity. This officer enjoyed 
 the entire esteem and confidence of the Americans ; his name alone 
 was considered among them as the presage of success. The Con- 
 gress, in their sitting of the fourth of August, had appointed him to 
 the command of the army of the north, while affairs still wore the 
 most lowering aspect ; but he had not arrived at Stillwater till the 
 twenty-first. 
 
 General Schuyler was promptly apprised that a successor had been 
 given him ; but this good citizen had continued until the arrival of 
 
 VOL, II. 5 
 
30 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII* 
 
 Gates to exert all his energies to repair the evil. Already, as we 
 have seen, his efforts had not been fruitless, and victory inclined in 
 his favor. He bitterly complained to Washington, that the course of 
 his fortune was interrupted, and that the fruit of his toils vvas given 
 to another, who was about to enjoy that victory for which he had 
 prepared the way. But the Congress preferred to place at the head 
 of an army, dismayed by its reverses, a general celebrated for his 
 achievements. Moreover they were not ignorant that if Schuyler 
 was agreeable to the New Yorkers, he was nevertheless in great 
 disrepute with the people of Massachusetts, and the other provinces 
 of New England. 
 
 This necessarily counteracted that alacrity with which it was de- 
 sired that the militia from that quarter should hasten to reenforce the 
 .army of the north, which vvas then encamped in the islands situated 
 at the confluence of the Mohawk with the Hudson. 
 
 Another and very powerful cause contributed to excite the mass 
 of the Americans to rise against the English army, which was the 
 cruelties committed by the savages under St. Leger and Burgoyne, 
 who spared neither age nor sex nor opinions. The friends of the 
 royal cause, as well as its enemies, were equally victims to their 
 indiscriminate rage. The people abhorred and execrated an army, 
 which consented to act with such ferocious auxiliaries. Though too 
 true, their deeds of barbarity were aggravated by the writers and 
 orators of the patriot party, which carried the exasperation of minds 
 to its utmost height. They related, among others, an event, which 
 drew tears from every eye, and might furnish, if not too horrible, an 
 affecting subject for the dramatic art. 
 
 A young lady, by the name of M'Crea, as distinguished for her 
 virtues as for the beauty of her person and the gentleness of her 
 manners, of respectable family, and recently affianced to a British 
 officer, was seized by the savages in her father's house, near Fort 
 Edward, dragged into the woods, with several other young people of 
 both sexes, and there barbarously scalped and afterwards murdered. 
 Thus, this ill fated damsel, instead of being conducted to the hyme- 
 neal altar, received an inhuman death at the very hands of the com- 
 panions in arms of that husband she was about to espouse. The 
 recital of an atrocity so unexampled, struck every breast with horror, 
 as well in Europe as America, and the authors of the Indian war 
 were loaded with the bitterest maledictions. 
 
 The Americans represent the fact as it is stated above ; other 
 writers relate it differently. According to their account, young 
 Jones, the British officer, fearing that some ill might betide the object 
 of his love, as well in consequence of the obstinate attachment of 
 her father to the royal cause, as because their mutual passion was 
 already publicly talked of, had, by the promise of a larg;e recompense, 
 induced two Indians, of different tribes, to take her under their 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 31 
 
 escort, and conduct her in safety to the camp. The two savages 
 went accordingly, and brought her through the woods ; hut at the 
 very momeut they were about to place her in the hands of her future 
 husband, they fell to quarrelling about their recompense, each con- 
 tending that it belonged entirely to himself; when one of them, trans- 
 ported with brutal fury, raised his club and laid the unhappy maiden 
 dead at his feet. General Burgoyne, on being informed of this 
 horrid act, ordered the assassin to be arrested, that he might suffer 
 the punishment due to his crime. But he soon after pardoned him 
 upon the promise made him by the savages of abstaining for the future 
 from similar barbarities, and of strictly observing the 'conditions to 
 which they had pledged themselves upon the banks of the river 
 Bouquet. The general believed that this act of clemency would be 
 more advantageous than the example of chastisement. It even 
 appears that he did not think himself sufficiently authorised, by the 
 laws of England, to try and punish with death the murderer of the 
 young lady ; as if there existed not other laws besides the English, 
 which bound him to inflict a just chastisement upon the perpetrator 
 of a crime so execrable. But if he was warned by prudence to 
 abstain from it, then was he to be pitied for the state of weakness to 
 which he was reduced, and the weight of censure and detestation 
 must fall exclusively upon the counsels of those who had called 
 these barbarians into a civil contest. However the truth was, the 
 condescension of general Burgoyne recoiled upon himself; for the 
 savages finding they were no longer permitted, as at first, to satiate 
 their passion for pillage and massacre, deserted the camp and re- 
 turned to their several homes, ravaging and plundering whatever they 
 found in their way. Thus terminated, almost entirely, this year, the 
 Indian war ; a war impolitic in principle, atrocious in execution, and 
 bootless in result. The Canadians themselves, and the loyalists who 
 followed the royal army, terrified at the sinister aspect of affairs, 
 deserted with one consent; so that Burgoyne, in his greatest need, 
 was left nearly destitute of other force except his English and Ger- 
 man regular troops. 
 
 Such was his situation, when a party of republicans undertook an 
 enterprise upon the rear of his army, which-, if it had succeeded, 
 would have entirely cut off his provisions and retreat towards Cana- 
 da ; and at least demonstrated the danger to which he had exposed 
 himself, in having advanced with so small an army to so great a dis- 
 tance from the strong posts upon the lakes. 
 
 General Lincoln, with a strong corps of the militia of New 
 Hampshire and Connecticut, conceived the hope of recovering for 
 the confederation the fortresses of Ticonderoga and Mount Independ- 
 ence, and consequently the command of Lake George. He knew 
 that these places were guarded only by feeble garrisons. He ad- 
 vanced from Manchester to Pawlet. He parted his corps into three 
 
32 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 divisions ; the first, commanded by colonel Brown, was to proceed to 
 the northern extremity of Lake George, and thence to fall by sur- 
 prise upon Ticonderoga ; the second, -led by colonel" Johnston, was 
 destined to scour the country about Fort Independence, in order to 
 make a diversion, and even an attack, if occasion should favor it; 
 the third, under the orders of colonel Woodbury, had it in view to 
 reduce Skeenesborough, Fort Anne, and even Fort Edward. Colo- 
 nel Brown, with equal secrecy and celerity, surprised all the posts 
 noon Lake George and the inlet of Ticonderoga, Mount Hope, 
 Mount Defiance, and the old French lines. He took possession of 
 two hundred batteaux, an armed brig, and several gun boats; he 
 also made a very considerable number of prisoners. Colonel John- 
 ston arrived at the same time under the walls of Fort Independence. 
 The two fortresses were summoned to capitulate. But brigadier 
 Powell, who held the chief command, replied, that he was resolved 
 to defend himself. The Americans continued their cannonade for 
 the space of four days; but their artillery being of small caliber, and 
 the English opposing a spirited resistance, they were constrained to 
 abandon the enterprise, and to recover their former positions. 
 
 Meanwhile, general Burgoyne continued in his camp, on the left 
 bank of the Hudson, where he used the most unremitting industry and 
 perseverance in bringing stores and provisions forward from Fort 
 George. Having at length, by strenuous efforts, obtained about thirty 
 days' provision, he took a resolution of passing the river with his 
 army, in order to engage the enemy, and force a passage to Albany. 
 As a swell of the water, occasioned by great rains, had carried away 
 his bridge of rafts, he threw another, of boats, over the river at the 
 same place. Towards the middle of September, he crossed with his 
 army to the right bank of the Hudson, and encamped on the heights 
 and in the plain of Saratoga ; Gates being then in the neighborhood 
 of Stillwater, about three miles below. The two armies of course 
 faced each other, and a battle was expected soon to follow. 
 
 This measure of passing the Hudson was by many censured with 
 great vehemence ; it was considered as the principal cause of the 
 unfortunate issue of this campaign. Some were of the opinion that 
 after the affairs of Bennington and Stanwix, Burgoyne would have 
 acted more wisely, considering the daily increase of the American 
 army, if he had renounced the project of occupying Albany, and 
 made the best of his way back to the lakes. It appears, however, 
 to us but just to remark for his excuse, that at this time he had not 
 yet received any intelligence either of the strength of the army left 
 at New York, or of the movements which sir Henry Clinton was to 
 make, or had made, up the North river towards Albany. He cal- 
 culated upon a powerful cooperation on the part of that general. 
 Such was the plan of the ministers, and such the tenor of his own 
 peremptory instructions. And to what reproaches would he not 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 33 
 
 have exposed himself, if, by retiring towards Ticonderogo, he had 
 abandoned Ciinton to himself, and thus voluntarily relinquished all 
 the advantages that were expected from the junction of the two 
 armies ? We may, however, consider as vain the apology which 
 was advanced by Burgoyne himself, when he alleged, that if he had 
 returned to the lakes, Gates might have gone to join Washington, 
 who, falling upon Howe with the combined armies, must have over- 
 powered him, and decided the fate of the whole war. Gates would 
 never have abandoned the shores of the Hudson, so long as the army 
 of Burgoyne was opposed to him, whether in the position of Sara- 
 toga, or in that of Ticonderoga. It is, besides, to be observed, that 
 as a great part of the army of Gates consisted in the New England 
 militia, these, at least, would not have followed him, even if he had 
 marched upon the Delaware. But, though we think that Burgoyne 
 committed no error in resolving to prosecute his expedition, it never- 
 theless appears that he ought not to have passed the Hudson. By 
 continuing upon the left bank, he could retire at will towards Ticon- 
 deroga, or push forward towards Albany. It was evidently more 
 easy to execute this movement, while having between himself and 
 the now formidable army of Gates, so broad a river as the Hudson. 
 The roads above, from Batten Kill to Fort George, were much 
 easier upon the left than those upon the right bank ; and in going 
 down towards Albany, if they were not better, at least they were 
 not worse. The city of Albany, it is true, is situated upon the right 
 bank ; but when Burgoyne should have arrived opposite to that city, 
 upon the left, the English from below might have come up with their 
 boats, and transported the troops to the right bank. At any rate, 
 Burgoyne might thus have operated his junction with Clinton. But 
 the former, either confiding too much in his army, which was, in 
 truth, equally brave and flourishing, or not esteeming the Americans 
 enough, notwithstanding the more favorable opinion of them which 
 the actions of Bennington and of Stanwix should have given him, 
 resolved to quit the safer ground and try the fortune of a battle ; he 
 considered victory as certain and decisive. In like manner as the 
 British ministers, erroneously estimating the constancy of the colo- 
 nists, had persuaded themselves that they could reduce them to 
 submission by rigorous laws, the generals deceiving themselves as 
 strangely with respect to their courage, had no doubt that with their 
 presence, a few threats, and a little rattling of their arms, they could 
 put them to flight. From this blind confidence in victory, resulted 
 a series of defeats, and the war was irretrievably lost from too san- 
 guine an assurance of triumph. 
 
 But let us resume the course of events. The nineteenth of 
 September was reserved by destiny for an obstinate and sanguinary 
 action, in which it was at length to be decided whether the Ameri- 
 cans, as some pretended, could only resist the English when protected 
 
,;i THE AMERICAN WAR, BOOK VIII. 
 
 by the strength of works, or of woods, rivers and mountains, or if 
 they were capable of meeting them upon equal ground, in fair and 
 regular battle. General Burgoyne having surmounted the obstacles 
 of thick woods and broken bridges, by which his progress was 
 continually interrupted, at length arrived in the front of the enemy, 
 some woods only of no great extent separating the two armies. 
 Without a moment's delay, the English formed themselves in order 
 of battle ; their right wing rested upon some high grounds, which 
 rise gradually from the river ; it was flanked by the grenadiers and 
 light infantry, who occupied the hills. At some distance in front, 
 and upon the side of these, were posted those Indians, Canadians 
 and loyalists, who had still remained in the camp. The left wing 
 and artillery, under general Phillips and Reidesel, kept along the 
 great road and meadows by the river side. The American army 
 drew up in the same order from the Hudson to the hills ; Gates had 
 taken the right, and given the left to Arnold. Smart skirmishes 
 immediately ensued between the foremost marksmen of either army. 
 Morgan, with his light horse, and colonel Durbin with the light 
 infantry, had attacked and routed the Canadians and savages; but 
 the latter having been supported, they were both in their turn com- 
 pelled to resume their place in the line. Meanwhile, Burgoyne, 
 either intending to turn the left flank of the enemy, or wishing to 
 avoid, hy passing higher up, the hollows of the torrents which fall 
 into the Hudson, extended his right wing upon the heights, in order 
 to fall upon Arnold in flank and rear. 
 
 But Arnold was, at the same time, endeavoring to execute a simi- 
 lar manoeuvre upon him, while neither of them was able, on account 
 of the woods, to perceive the movements of his enemy. 
 
 The two parties met ; general Frazer repulsed the Americans. 
 Finding the right flank of the enemy's right wing so well defended, 
 they left a sufficient guard to defend this passage, made a rapid 
 movement to their right, and vigorously assailed the left flank of the 
 same wing. Arnold exhibited upon this occasion all the impetuosity 
 of his courage ; he encouraged his men with voice and example. 
 The action became extremely warm ; the enemy fearing that Arnold, 
 by cutting their line, would penetrate between their wings, as was 
 manifestly his intention, hastened to reenforce the points attacked. 
 General Frazer came up with the twenty-fourth regiment, some light 
 infantry and Breyman's riflemen ; he would have drawn more troops 
 from the right flank, but the heights on which it was posted, were of 
 too great importance to be totally evacuated. Meanwhile, such was 
 the valor and impetuosity of the Americans, that the English began 
 to full into confusion ; but general Phillips soon appeared with fresh 
 men and a part of the artillery; upon hearing the firing he had 
 rapidly made his way through a very difficult wood to the scene of 
 danger. He restored the action at the very moment it was about 
 being decided in favor of the enemv. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 35 
 
 The Americans, however, renewed their attacks with such perse- 
 vering energy that night only parted the combatants. The royalists 
 passed it under arms upon the field of battle ; the republicans 
 retired. They had lost from three to four hundred men in killed 
 and wounded ; among the former were colonels Adams and Coburn. 
 The English had to regret more than five hundred, and among others, 
 captain Jones, of the artillery, an officer of great merit. 
 
 Both parties claimed the honor of victory. The English, it is 
 true, kept possession of the field of battle ; yet, as the intention of 
 the Americans was not to advance, but to maintain their position, and 
 that of the English not to maintain theirs, but to gain ground, and as 
 besides it was a victory for the republicans not to be vanquished, it is 
 easy to see which had the advantage of the day. On the other 
 hand, the English were now convinced, to the great prejudice of their 
 hopes, and even of their courage, that they would have to grapple 
 with a foe as eager for action, as careless of danger, and as indiffer- 
 ent with respect to ground or cover as themselves. 
 
 The day following, general Burgoyne finding that he must abandon 
 all idea of dislodging the enemy by force, from its intrenched posi- 
 tions, endeavored to console himself with the hope, that time might 
 offer him some occasion, to operate with more effect. 
 
 He was, besides, in daily expectation of news from general Clin- 
 ton, with respect to whose movements he was still entirely in the 
 dark. Resolving, therefore, to pause, he pitched his camp within 
 cannon shot of the American lines. He threw up numerous intrench- 
 in ents, both upon his right, the part which had been attacked, and 
 upon his left, in order to defend the meadows near the river, where 
 he had established his magazines and hospitals. An English regi- 
 ment, the Hessians of Hanau, and a detachment of loyalists were 
 encamped in the same meadows for greater security. General Gates 
 continued to occupy his first position, taking care, however, to fortify 
 himself strongly on the left. With the return of success, his army 
 was continually reenforced by the accession of fresh bodies of the 
 militia. General Lincoln joined him with two thousand men, well 
 trained and disciplined, from the New England provinces. The 
 English exerted the greatest vigilance to avoid surprise ; and the 
 Americans to prevent them from going out of their camp to forage. 
 The skirmishes were animated and frequent. 
 
 The British general had for a long time been expecting news from 
 New York ; and his impatience was at its height, when, the twentieth 
 of September, he received a letter of the tenth, written in cyphers, 
 by general Clinton, informing him that about the twentieth of the 
 month, he should with two thousand men attack Fort Montgomery, 
 situated on the right bank of the Hudson, and upon the declivity of 
 the highlands. He excused himself upon account of weakness for 
 not doing more 5 and even declared, that if the enemy made anr 
 
36 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 movement towards the coasts of New York, he should be forced to 
 return thither. Burgoyne immediately despatched an emissary, two 
 officers in disguise, and some other trusty persons, by different routes, 
 to general Clinton, with a full account of his present situation, urging 
 him to a speedy execution of the diversions he had proposed, and in- 
 forming him that he was provided with sufficient necessaries, to hold 
 out in his present position till the twelfth of October. Although the 
 assistance promised by Clinton was much less effectual than Burgoyne 
 had kept in view, nevertheless, he still cherished a hope that the attack 
 on Fort Montgomery, and the apprehension that the English after its 
 reduction might make their way up the river, would induce Gates 
 either to change the position of his camp, or to send large detach- 
 ments down the river, to oppose the progress of Clinton, and that in 
 either case, some occasion would be offered him to gain a decisive 
 advantage, and open his passage to Albany. But whoever considers 
 the great superiority, in spirit as well as number, of the army of 
 Gates over that of Burgoyne, and that the former was continually 
 increasing in force, will readily perceive how vain were the expect- 
 ations of the British general. It appears, therefore, that the mere 
 survey of his own weakness, of that of Clinton, and of the prepon- 
 derant force of Gates, should have determined him for retreat, if, 
 however, retreat was still in his power. For to cross the river in 
 sight of so formidable an army, would have been too perilous an en- 
 terprise ; and here it is .again perceived how imprudent had been the 
 measure of passing it at first, since from that moment it became alike- 
 impossible to advance or recede. 
 
 In the beginning of October, general Burgoyne thought it expedi- 
 ent, from the difficulty of his situation and the uncertainty of succour, 
 to lessen the soldiers' rations of provisions ; to this measure, from its 
 necessity, they submitted with great cheerfulness. But the twelfth 
 of October was approaching, the term limited for the stay of the 
 army in its present encampment. The seventh was already arrived, 
 and no tidings came of the operations that had been proposed for its 
 relief. In this alarming state of things, the English general resolved 
 to make a movement to the enemy's left, not only to discover whether 
 there were any possible means of forcing a passage, should it be 
 necessary to advance, or of dislodging them for the convenience of 
 retreat, out also to cover a forage of the army. He was impelled 
 by necessity to attempt a decisive stroke. Accordingly he put him- 
 self at the head of a detachment of fifteen hundred regular troops, 
 with two twelve pounders, two howitzers, and six six pounders. He 
 was seconded by general Phillips, Reidesel and Frazer, ail officers 
 distinguished for their zeal and ability. The guard of the camp upon 
 the high grounds was committed to the brigadiers general Hamilton 
 and Speight, that of the redoubts and plain near the river, to briga- 
 dier Goll, 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 37 
 
 The force of the enemy immediately in the front of his lines was 
 so much superior, that Burgoyne could not venture to augment his 
 detachment beyond the number we have stated. He had given 
 orders that during this first attack, several companies of loyalists and 
 Indians should be pushed on through byways, to appear as a check 
 upon the rear of the enemy's left flank. The column of regulars 
 having already issued from the camp, were formed within three quar- 
 ters of a rnile of the enemy's left, and manifested an intention to 
 turn it. But general Gates, who observed this movement, instantly 
 penetrated the design of the English, and with exquisite discernment 
 resolved to make a sudden and rapid attack upon the left of this 
 corps, hoping thus to separate it from the remainder of the army, 
 and to cut off its retreat to the camp. The Americans advanced to 
 the charge with incredible impetuosity, but they were received with 
 equal resolution by major Ackland, at the head of the grenadiers. 
 Gates immediately detached a fresh and powerful reenforcement to 
 the aid of the first, and the attack was soon extended along the whole 
 front of the Germans, who were posted immediately on the right of 
 Ackland's grenadiers. Hence the British general found it impracti- 
 cable to move any part of that body, as he would have desired, for 
 the purpose of forming a second line to support this left flank, where 
 the great weight of the fire still fell. As yet the right was unengaged, 
 when the British generals perceived that the enemy were marching 
 a strong body round their flank, in order to cut off their retreat. To 
 oppose this dangerous design of the American general, the light 
 infantry, with a part of the twenty-fourth regiment, which were 
 joined with them at that post, were thrown into a second line, in order 
 to cover the retreat of the troops into camp. Whilst this movement 
 was yet in process, Arnold came up with three regiments, and fell 
 upon this right wing. Gates, at the same time, sent a strong reen- 
 forcement to decide the action on the English left, which being at 
 length totally overpowered, fell into disorder and fled. The light 
 infantry and the twenty-fourth advanced with all speed to check the 
 victorious Americans, whose riflemen pursued the fugitives with great 
 eagerness ; there ensued an extremely warm affair, and many pe- 
 rished on both sides. 
 
 Upon this occasion, brigadier-general Frazer was mortally wound- 
 ed, an officer whose loss was severely felt by the English, and whose 
 valor and abilities justified their regrets. Their situation now became 
 exceedingly critical ; even their camp was threatened ; the enemy, 
 emboldened by victory, was advancing to storm it, and if he arrived 
 before the retreating detachment, there could be little hope of de- 
 fending it. Phillips and Reidesel were ordered to rally with all 
 expedition those troops which were nearest, or most disengaged, to 
 cover the retreat of the others, while Burgoyne himself, fiercely pur- 
 sued by Arnold, retired with great precipitation towards the camp 
 VOL. n. 6 
 
38 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 The detachment at length, though with extreme difficulty, regained 
 the intrenchments, having left, however, upon the field of battle a 
 great number of killed and wounded, particularly of the artillery 
 corps, who had, with equal glory to themselves and prejudice to the 
 enemy, displayed the utmost ability in their profession, along with the 
 most undaunted resolution. Six pieces of cannon also remained in 
 the power of the Americans. 
 
 But the business of the day was not yet terminated; The English 
 had scarcely entered the camp, when the Americans, pursuing their 
 success, assaulted it in different parts with uncommon fierceness ; 
 rushing; to the lines through a severe fire of grape-shot and small 
 arms, with the utmost fury. Arnold especially, who in this day ap- 
 peared intoxicated with the thirst of battle and carnage, led on the 
 attack against a part of the intrenchments occupied by the light 
 infantry, under lord Balcarres. But the English received him with 
 great vigor and spirit. The action was obstinate and sanguinary. 
 At length, as it grew towards evening, Arnold having forced all 
 obstacles, entered the works with some of the most fearless of his 
 followers. But in this critical moment of glory and danger, he was 
 grievously wounded in the same leg which had been already shattered 
 at the assault of Quebec. To his great regret, he was constrained 
 to retire. His party still continued the attack, and the English sus- 
 tained it with obstinacy, till night separated the combatants. 
 
 The royalists were not so fortunate in another quarter. A repub- 
 lican detachment, commanded by lieutenant-colonel Brooks, having 
 succeeded by a circuitous movement in turning the right wing of the 
 English, fell, sword in hand, upon the right flank of their intrench- 
 ments, and made the most desperate efforts to carry them. This 
 post was defended by lieutenant-colonel Breyman, at the head of the 
 German reserve. The resistance at first was exceedingly vigorous; 
 but Breyman being mortally wounded, his countrymen were damped, 
 and at length routed, with great slaughter. Their tents$ artillery, and 
 baggage, fell into the power of the assailants. The Americans esta- 
 blished themselves in the intrenchments. General Burgoyne, upon 
 hearing of this disaster, ordered them to be dislodged immediately. 
 But either in consequence of the approach of night, or from the dis- 
 couragement of his troops, he was not obeyed, and the victors con- 
 tinued to occupy the positions they had gained with so much glory. 
 They had now acquired an opening on the right and rear of the 
 British army. The other American divisions passed the night under 
 arms, at the distance of half a mile from the British camp. The loss in 
 dead and wounded was great on Doth sides ; but especially on the part 
 of the English, of whom no few were also made prisoners. Majors 
 Williams of the artillery, and Ackland of the grenadiers, were among 
 the latter. Many pieces of artillery, all the baggage of the Germans, 
 and many warlike stores, fell into the power of the republicans, who 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 39 
 
 needed them greatly. They were impatient for the return of day, 
 to renew the batile. But deplorable, and perilous beyond expression, 
 was the situation of the British troops ; they bore it, however, with 
 admirable. temper and firmness. It was evidently impossible to con- 
 tinue in their present position, without submitting to a certainty of 
 destruction on the ensuing day. The Americans, invigorated and 
 encouraged, would certainly have profited of the access they had 
 already opened" to themselves on the right, and of other untenable 
 points, to carry every part of the camp, and completely surround the 
 British army. Burgoyne therefore determined to operate a total 
 change of ground. He executed this movement with admirable 
 order, and without any loss. The artillery, the camp and its apper- 
 tenances, were all removed before morning to the heights above the 
 hospital. The British army in this position had the river in its rear, 
 and its two wings displayed along the hills upon the right bank. The 
 English expected to be attacked the following day. But Gates, like 
 the experienced general he was, would not expose to the risk of 
 another battle that victory of which he was already certain. He in- 
 tended that time, famine, and necessity, should complete the work 
 which his arms had so fortunately commenced. There were fre- 
 quent skirmishes, however, engaged in the course of the day ; but of 
 little importance. Towards night, the obsequies of general Frazer 
 were celebrated in the British camp ; a ceremony mournful of itself, 
 and rendered even terrible by the sense of recent losses, of future 
 dangers, and of regret for the deceased. The darkness and silence 
 of night, aided the effect of the blaze and roar of the American artil- 
 lery ; while at every moment the balls spattered earth upon the face 
 of the officiating chaplain. 
 
 General Gates, prior to the battle, had detached a strong division 
 of his army to take post upon the left bank of the Hudson, opposite to 
 Saratoga, in order to guard the passage and prevent the enemy's escape 
 on that side. He now despatched a second detachment to occupy 
 a passage higher up. He ordered at the same time, a selected corps 
 of two thousand men to push forward and turn the right flank of the 
 enemy, so as to enclose him on every side. Burgoyne, on intelli- 
 gence of this motion, determined to retire towards Saratoga, situated 
 six miles up the river, on the same bank. The army accordingly 
 began to move at nine o'clock at night ; but such was the badness of 
 the roads, rendered still more difficult by a heavy rain which fell that 
 night, and such was the weakness of the teams for want of forage, 
 that the English did not reach Saratoga till the evening of the ensuing 
 day ; the soldiers were harassed with fatigue and hunger. The hos- 
 pital, with three hundred sick and wounded, and a great number of 
 wheel carriages, were abandoned to the enemy. The English, as 
 they retired, burnt the houses, and destroyed whatever they could use 
 no longer. 
 
40 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 The rain having ceased, Gates followed them step by step, and 
 with extreme caution, as they had broken all the bridges, and he 
 was resolved not to give them any opportunity to engage him with 
 advantage. 
 
 Fearing that Burgoyne would hasten to detach his light troops, in 
 order to secure the passage of the river near Fort Edward, he rapidly 
 threw several companies of militia into that fort, in order to prevent 
 it. Scarcely had they arrived there, when the English rangers 
 appeared ; but finding themselves anticipated, they returned disap- 
 pointed and dejected. During this time, the main body of the 
 English army having passed the night of the ninth at Saratoga, left 
 it on the morning of the tenth, and forded Fish Kill Creek which 
 falls into the Hudson a little to the northward of that town. The 
 British generals had hoped that they should here be able to cross 
 the river at the principal ford, and escape pursuit upon its left bank. 
 But they found a body of republicans already arrived, and throwing 
 up intrenchments on the heights to the left of Fish Kill Creek. 
 These Americans, however, when they observed the great superiority 
 of the English, retired over the Hudson, and there joined a greater 
 force, which was stationed to prevent the passage of the army. Hav- 
 ing; lost all hope of passing the river in the vicinity of Saratoga, the 
 British generals had it in mind to push forward upon the right bank, 
 till they arrived in front of Fort Edward, and then to force a passage 
 to the left bank, in defiance of the troops stationed there for its 
 defence. For this purpose a company of artificers, under the escort 
 of a regiment of the line, with a detachment of marksmen and loyal- 
 ists, was sent forward to repair the bridges, and open the road to Fort 
 Edward. But they were not long departed from the camp, when 
 the enemy appeared in great force upon the heights on the opposite 
 side of Fish Kill Creek, and seemed. preparing to cross it, in order 
 to bring on an immediate engagement. 
 
 The regulars and marksmen were immediately recalled. The 
 workmen had only commenced the repair of the first bridge, when 
 they were abandoned by the loyalists, who ran away, and left them 
 to shift for themselves, only upon a very slight attack of an incon- 
 siderable party of the enemy. Hence it became necessary to aban- 
 don all hopes of saving the artillery and baggage. 
 
 Amidst all these embarrassments, still a new difficulty presented 
 itself ; the republicans who lined the further shore of the Hudson, 
 kept up a continual fire upon the batteaux loaded with provisions and 
 necessaries which had attended the motions of the army up the 
 river, since its departure from Stillwater. Many of these boats had 
 been taken, some retaken, and a number of men lost on both sides. 
 At length, to avoid these inconveniences, the English were forced to 
 and the provisions and transport them up the hill to the camp ; a 
 
 2$r which they accomplished under a heavy fire with great fatigue 
 
BOOK VIII- THE AMERICAN WAR. 41 
 
 and loss. Nothing could now exceed the distress and calamity of 
 the British army ; the soldiers as well as the generals were reduced 
 to brood upon the prospect of an ignominious surrender, or total 
 destruction. To attempt the passage of so wide a river, while its 
 shore was guarded with so much vigilance by a formidable body of 
 troops, and in the presence of a powerful enemy, flushed with vic- 
 tory, was an enterprise savoring rather of madness than temerity. 
 On the other hand, the retreat upon the right bank, with the same 
 enemy at the rear, through ways so difficult and impracticable, was 
 a scheme which presented obstacles absolutely insurmountable. 
 Every thing announced therefore an inevitable catastrophe. Never- 
 theless, in the midst of so much calamity, a ray of hope suddenly 
 gleamed upon' the English ; and they were near gaining an oppor- 
 tunity of retrieving their affairs all at once. The two armies were 
 only separated by the Fish Kill Creek ; report, which magnifies all 
 things, had represented to general Gates the feeble detachment 
 which Burg;oyne had sent to escort his pioneers upon the route to 
 Fort Edward, as the entire vanguard and centre of the British army, 
 already well on their way towards that fort. He concluded, there- 
 fore, that only the rear guard remained near the Fish Kill, and 
 instantly conceived the hope of crushing it by an attack with all his 
 forces. He made all his preparations in jhe morning of the eleventh 
 of October. His scheme was to take advantage of a thick fog, 
 which in those regions, and at this season, usually obscure the atmos- 
 phere till a little after sunrise, to pass the Fish Kill very early, to 
 seize a battery which Burgoyne had erected upon the opposite bank, 
 and then to fall immediately upon the enemy. The English general 
 had notice of this plan ; he furnished the battery with a strong guard, 
 and posted his troops in ambush behind the thickets which covered 
 the banks of the creek. In this position he waited the enemy's 
 approach, and calculating upon their supposed error, he had little 
 doubt of victory. The brigade of the American general Nixon had 
 already forded the Fish Kill, and that of general Glover was about 
 to follow it. But just as the latter entered the water, he was 
 informed by a British deserter, that not only the rear guard, but the 
 whole royal army, was drawn up in order of battle upon the other 
 bank. Upon this intelligence Glover halted, and sent to apprise 
 Nixon of the danger he was in of being cut in pieces, unless he 
 hastened to recover the left bank. General Gates was immediate- 
 ly informed of the incident ; he revoked all the orders he had 
 given, and directed that the troops should be reconducted to their 
 positions. General Nixon received the message of Glover in good 
 time ; for a quarter of an hour later he would have been lost irre- 
 coverably. He fell back with all expedition ; but the fog being 
 dissipated before he was out of sight of the enemy, his real- 
 guard was annoyed by the. English artillery, with the loss of a few 
 soldiers. 
 
42 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 Frustrated of this hope, general Burgoyne applied his thoughts to 
 devise, if possible, some other way to save the army. He called a 
 council of war, in which it was resolved to attempt by a rapid retreat 
 in the night up the Hudson, to gain the fords of that river at or 
 above Fort Edward, and there having forced a passage, to press on 
 to Fort George. That nothing might retard the march, it was 
 determined to abandon the artillery, baggage, carriages, and all 
 incumbrances. The soldiers were to carry upon their backs a suffi- 
 cient quantity of provisions, to support them till they could arrive 
 at Fort George. All the troops prepared to execute the plan of 
 their general. 
 
 But Gates had already, with great foresight, taken all his measures 
 to defeat it. He had recommended the utmost vigilance to the 
 parties that were stationed to guard the opposite shore of the river ; 
 he had posted a strong detachment to guard the fords near Fort 
 Edward, with orders to oppose any attempt of the enemy to pass 
 them, till he should arrive with the army upon his rear. In addition 
 to this, he had established a camp in force, and provided with 
 artillery, upon the hia;h and strong grounds between Fort Edward 
 and Fort George. General Burgoyne had sent forward scouts, to 
 examine the route, and especially to ascertain whether it was possi- 
 ble to force the passage opposite to Fort Edward. They returned 
 with an account that the roads were inconceivably rough and diffi- 
 cult ; that the enemy were so numerous and vigilant upon the left 
 bank, that no movement of the army upon the right could escape 
 immediate discovery ; and that the passages at the fort were so 
 diligently defended, that it was absolutely impossible to force them 
 without artillery. They also mentioned the intrenched camp on the 
 hills between the two forts. Burgoyne had no sooner received this 
 afflicting intelligence, than he was also informed that general Gates, 
 with the main body of his army, was so near, and observed him 
 with such steady attention, that it would be impossible for him to 
 move a step without being instantly followed ; he then saw that he 
 must relinquish all hope of saving himself by his own efforts. 
 
 In this deplorable extremity, his only refuge from despair was the 
 faint hope of cooperation from the parts down the river ; and with 
 the most intense desire he looked for the aid of Clinton. 
 
 It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition 
 tq which the British army was now reduced. The troops, worn 
 down by a series of hard toil, incessant effort and stubborn action ; 
 abandoned by the Indians and Canadians ; the whole army reduced 
 by repeated and heavy losses of many of their best men and most 
 distinguished officers from ten thousand combatants to less than five 
 thousand effective fighting men, of whom little more than three 
 thousand were English. In these circumstances, and in this state of 
 weakness, without a possibility of retreat, they were invested by an 
 

 BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 43 
 
 army of four times their own number, whose position extended three 
 parts in four of a circle round them ; who refused to tight from a 
 knowledge of their own condition ; and who from the nature of the 
 ground, could not be attacked in any part. In this helpless situa- 
 tion, obliged to lie constantly on their arms, whilst a continued can- 
 nonade pervaded all the camp^and even rifle and grape-shot fell in 
 every part of their lines, the troops of Burgoyne retained their 
 ordinary constancy, and while sinking under a hard necessity, they 
 showed themselves worthy of a better fate. Nor could they be 
 reproached with any action or word which betrayed a want of tem- 
 per, or of fortitude . 
 
 At length, no succour appearing, and no rational ground of hope 
 of any kind remaining, an exact account of the provisions was taken 
 on the morning of the thirteenth, when it was found that the whole 
 stock would afford no more than three days hare subsistence for the 
 army. In such a state, it was alike impossible to advance or to 
 remain as they were ; and the longer they delayed to take a defini- 
 tive resolution, the more desperate became their situation. Bur- 
 goyne, therefore, immediately called a council of war, at which not 
 only the generals and field officers but all the captains of companies 
 were invited to assist. While they deliberated, the bullets of the 
 Americans whistled around them, and frequently pierced even the 
 tent where the council was convened. It was determined unani- 
 mously to open a treaty and enter into a convention with the Ame- 
 rican general. 
 
 Gates used his victory with moderation. Only he proposed that 
 the royal troops should lay down their arms in camp ; a condition 
 which appeared too hard to the English, and which they perempto- 
 rily refused. They all preferred to be led against the enemy, not- 
 withstanding the disadvantage of number, rather than submit to such 
 a disgrace. After several conferences, the articles of capitulation 
 were settled the fifteenth. They were to be signed by the two 
 contracting parties on the morning of the seventeenth. In the night, 
 captain Campbell arrived at the British camp, sent express by gene- 
 ral Clinton, with the intelligence that he had moved up the Hudson, 
 reduced Fort Montgomery, and penetrated as far as ^Esopus. The 
 hope of safety revived in the breasts of some. 
 
 The officers were invited to declare, whether in a case of extremity, 
 the soldiers were in a situation to fight, and whether they considered 
 the public faith as pledged by the verbal convention. A great num- 
 ber answered,. that the soldiers debilitated by fatigue and hunger, 
 were unable to make resistance ; all were decidedly of the opinion, 
 that the public faith was engaged. Burgoyne alone manifested a 
 contrary opinion. But he was constrained to acquiesce in the general 
 suffrage. Meanwhile, Gates, apprised of these hesitations of his 
 enemy, and the now hopes which occasioned them, formed his troops 
 
44 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 in order of battle on the morning of the seventeenth, and sent to 
 inform Burgoyne that the stipulated time being arrived, he must 
 either sign the articles, or prepare himself for battle. 
 
 The Englishman had ta-ken his resolution ; he signed the paper, 
 which had this superscription ; Convention between lieutenant-genera] 
 Burgoyne and major-general Gates. & The principal articles, exclu- 
 sive of those which related to the provision and accommodation of 
 the army in its way to Boston, and during its stay at that place, 
 were ; 
 
 That the army should march out of the camp witli all the honors 
 of war and its camp artillery, to a fixed place, where they were to 
 deposit their arms and leave the artillery ; to be allowed a free 
 embarkation and passage to Europe, from Boston, upon condition of 
 their not serving again in America, during the present war ; the 
 army not be separated, particularly the men from the officers ; roll 
 calling, and other duties of regularity, to be permitted ; the officers 
 to be admitted on parole, and to wear their side arms ; all private 
 property to be retained, and the public delivered upon honor ; no 
 baggage to be searched or molested ; all persons, of whatever coun- 
 try, appertaining to, or following the camp, to be fully comprehended 
 in the terms of capitulation, and the Canadians to be returned to 
 their own country, liable to its conditions. 
 
 Assuredly, these conditions were very honorable for the British 
 army, considering its ruined state and irretrievable circumstances ; 
 but it obtained still more* from the magnanimity of general Gates. 
 From tenderness towards the feelings of the vanquished, he ordered 
 his army to retire within their lines, that they might not witness the 
 shame of the English, when {hey piled their arms. 
 
 This conduct demonstrated not only the humanity but the cle- 
 mency and elevation of character which distinguished the American 
 general ; for he was already informed of the horrible ravages recently 
 committed by general Vaughan, upon the right bank of the Hudson, 
 where, imitating the usage of barbarians, he had laid in ashes, and 
 utterly destroyed, the fine village of ^Esopus. It is our duty not to 
 pass without mention, that While Gates, in the whole course of this 
 campaign upon the Hudson, displayed all the talents which constitute 
 an able and valiant general, he proved himself not to want any of 
 those qualities which characterise a benevolent and generous heart. 
 Humane towards all whom the fortune of war had thrown into his 
 hands, he was eminently attentive to those who were sick, and suf- 
 fered them to want for no succour within his power to administer. 
 
 The day of the capitulation, the American army amounted to 
 near fifteen thousand men, of whom about ten thousand were regular 
 troops ; the English army to five thousand seven hundred and ninety- 
 one, of whom two thousand four hundred and twelve were Germans, 
 and three thousand three hundred and seventy-nine English. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 45 
 
 The Americans acquired a fine train of brass artillery, amounting 
 to forty-two pieces of different sorts and sizes, four thousand six 
 hundred muskets, an immense quantity of cartridges, bombs, balls, 
 and other implements of war. 
 
 Such was the fate of the British expedition upon the banks of the 
 Hudson. It had been undertaken with singular confidence of success, 
 but the obstacles proved so formidable that those who had expected 
 from it such brilliant results, were themselves its victims ; and those 
 it had alarmed at first, derived from it the most important advantages. 
 There can be no doubt, that, if it was planned with ability, as to us 
 it appears to have been, it was conducted with imprudence by those 
 who were intrusted with its execution. For, it is to be remarked, 
 that its success depended entirely on the combined efforts of the 
 generals who commanded upon the lakes, and of those who had the 
 management of the war in the state of New York. But far from 
 moving in concert, when one advanced, the other retired. When 
 Carleton had obtained the command of the lakes, Howe, instead of 
 ascending the Hudson, towards Albany, carried his arms into New 
 Jersey, and advanced upon the Delaware. When, afterwards, Bur- 
 goyne entered Ticonderoga in triumph, Howe embarked upon the 
 expedition against Philadelphia ; and thus the army of Canada was 
 deprived of the assistance it expected from New York. 
 
 Perhaps Howe imagined that the reduction of such a city as Phi- 
 ladelphia, would so confound the Americans, and so derange their 
 plans, that they would either immediately submit, or make but a 
 feeble resistance. Perhaps also he believed that by attacking the 
 centre, and as it were, the very heart of the confederation, he 
 effected the most useful diversion in favor of the army of the north, 
 thereby depriving the Americans of the ability to oppose it with a 
 sufficient force upon the Hudson. Finally, it is not impossible, that, 
 listening to his ambition, he had flattered himself that with his own 
 means alone he could acquire the exclusive glory of having put an 
 end to the war. But whatever might have been the importance of 
 the acquisition of Philadelphia, every one must readily perceive how 
 much greater was that of the junction at Albany, of the two armies 
 of Canada and of New York. It was very doubtful whether the 
 conquest of a single city could decide the issue of the war; whereas 
 the juncture of the armies, offered almost an assurance of it. It 
 should also be considered that the Americans, in order to prevent 
 this junction, would have risked a pitched battle, the success of 
 which could scarcely be doubtful, and which could have formed no 
 obstacle to the eventual union. Besides, when two armies have the 
 same object in view, is it not evident that they can operate with more 
 concert and effect, when they are near to each other, than while 
 remotely separated ? We may therefore consider this expedition as 
 having been wisely calculated in its design, and even in the means 
 YOL. ii. 7 
 
46 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 of execution, if we except that scourge of the savages, which must 
 be imputed to the British ministers. Bating this fault, they did not, 
 in our opinion, deserve the reproaches with which they were loaded, 
 as well in parliament as by the writers of the opposite party. Per- 
 haps also they erred in this, that having too great confidence in the 
 reputation, rank, and military experience of sir William Howe, they 
 neglected to send him more precise instructions. For it appears 
 from the best information we have found upon this subject, that the 
 orders given to that general in regard to his cooperation with the 
 army of Canada, were rather discretionary than absolute ; but all 
 the ruin of the enterprise is clearly attributable to this want of coope- 
 ration. Gates, after the victory, immediately despatched colonel 
 Wilkinson to carry the happy tidings to Congress. On being intro- 
 duced into the hall, he said ; ' The whole British army has laid 
 down arms at Saratoga ; our own, full of vigor and courage, expect 
 your orders ; it is for your wisdom to decide where the country may 
 still have need of their services.' The Congress voted thanks to 
 general Gates and his army. They decreed that he should be pre- 
 sented with a medal of gold, to be struck expressly in commemora- 
 tion of so glorious a victory. On one side of it was the bust of the 
 general, with these words around ; Horatio Gates, Dud strenuo ; 
 and in the middle, Comitia Americana. On the reverse, Burgoyne 
 was represented in the attitude of delivering his sword ; and in the 
 back ground, on the one side and on the other were seen the two 
 armies of England and of America. At the top were these words ; 
 Salutn regionum septentrion ; and at the foot, Hoste ad Saratogam 
 in deditione accepto. Die XVII Oct. MDCCLXXVIL It would 
 be difficult to describe the transports of joy which the news of this 
 event excited among the Americans. They began to flatter them- 
 selves with a still more happy future ; no one any longer entertained 
 a doubt of independence. All hoped, and not without much reason, 
 that a success of this importance would at length determine France, 
 and the other European powers that waited for her example, to 
 declare themselves in favor of America. There could no longer be 
 any question respecting the future ; all danger had ceased of espous- 
 ing the cause of a people too feeble to defend themselves. 
 
 While Burgoyne found himself in the most critical situation, Clin- 
 ton, in the beginning of October, had embarked at New York, with 
 about three thousand men, upon his expedition up the Hudson for 
 his relief. The Americans, commanded by general Putnam, occu- 
 pied the steep mountains between which this river flows with rapidity, 
 and which begin to rise in the vicinity of Peek's Kill. In addition 
 to the natural strength of the places in the midst of these mountains, 
 the banks of the Hudson being almost inaccessible, the Americans 
 had secured the passages in divers modes. About six miles above 
 Peek's Kill, upon the western bank, they had two forts, called the one 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 47 
 
 Montgomery, and the other Clinton, separated only by a torrent, 
 which, gushing from the neighboring heights, falls into the river. 
 Their situation, upon heights so precipitous that it was impossible to 
 climb them, entirely commanded the course of the Hudson. There 
 was no other way by which the enemy could approach them, but that 
 of penetrating into the mountains a little below, towards Stony Point, 
 and marching through narrow and difficult paths. But such were 
 these defiles, that if they had been suitably guarded, it would have 
 been not only dangerous, but absolutely impracticable to thread them. 
 To prevent the enemy from passing above the forts by water, che- 
 vaux-de-frize were sunken in the river, and a boom extended from 
 bank to bank. This boom was covered by an immense chain, stretch- 
 ed at some distance in its front. These works were remarkable for 
 their perfection, and had been executed with equal industry and dif- 
 ficulty. They were defended by the artillery of the forts, by a fri- 
 gate, and by several gailies, stationed a little above the boom. Such 
 were the fortifications which the Americans had constructed upon the 
 right bank, and even in the bed of the Hudson, in order to secure 
 these passages, which had been the object of their solicitude from the 
 commencement of hostilities ; they being in effect the most defensi- 
 ble barriers against a descent of the enemy from Canada. Upon the 
 left bank, on a high point of land, four or five miles below Forts 
 Montgomery and Clinton, they had erected a fort to which they gave 
 the name of Independence, and another called Constitution, about 
 six miles above the same forts, on an island near the eastern shore. 
 They had also there interrupted the navigation of the river by che- 
 vaux-de-frize and a boom. 
 
 General Putnam guarded these different passages with a corps of 
 six hundred regular troops, and some militia, of whom the number 
 was uncertain. An American officer named Clinton, commanded in 
 the forts. 
 
 The British general knew perfectly well that to attack Forts Clin*- 
 ton and Montgomery in front, would have been a vain attempt. He 
 therefore formed the design of marching to the assault upon their 
 rear, by the defiles which commence near Stony Point. But in order 
 to divert the Americans from the thought of reenforcing the garri- 
 sons, he resolved to make such motions upon the left bank, as should 
 alarm them for the safety of Fort Independence. On the fifth of 
 October he landed all his troops at Verplank's Point, a little below 
 Peek's Kill, where general Putnam had established his head quar- 
 ters. Putnam immediately retired to the strong heights in his rear. 
 The English having reembarked the greater part of their troops in 
 the night, landed by break of day upon the right bank, at Stony 
 Point ; without loss of time they entered the defiles, and marched 
 towards the forts. In the meantime, the manoeuvres of the vessels, 
 and the appearance of the small detachment left at Verplank's Point, 
 
48 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 persuaded Putnam that the enemy meditated an attack on Fort Inde- 
 pendence. The English during this interval were making the best 
 of their way through the mountains. Governor Clinton had not dis- 
 covered their approach till very late. They appeared before the two 
 forts at nearly the same time, and having without difficulty repulsed 
 the advanced parties which had been sent out to retard them, they 
 furiously began their attack. Their ships of war had also now made 
 their appearance, and supported them with a near fire. The Ame- 
 ricans, though surprised, defended themselves with courage for a 
 considerable length of time ; but at length, unable to sustain the 
 reiterated efforts of the assailants, and too feeble to man their fortifi- 
 cations sufficiently, after a severe loss in killed and wounded, they 
 retired. 
 
 Those who knew the ground, among whom was governor Clinton, 
 escaped. The slaughter was however great, the English being irri- 
 tated by the opposition they met, and by the loss of some favorite 
 officers. The Americans set fire to their frigates and gallies, which, 
 with their stores and ammunition, were all consumed ; but the Eng- 
 lish got possession of the boom and chain. 
 
 In a day or two after, Forts Independence and Constitution, upon 
 the approach of the enemy with his land and naval forces, were set 
 on fire, and evacuated by their defenders. Tryon was sent on the 
 ninth, at the head of a detachment, to destroy a thriving settlement, 
 called Continental Village, where the republicans had deposited a 
 great quantity of stores. 
 
 Thus fell into the power of the English these important passages of 
 the mountains of the Hudson, which the Americans had labored to 
 defend by every mode of fortification. They were justly considered 
 as the keys of the county of Albany. It is therefore evident, that if 
 the royalists had been more numerous, they might have extended an 
 efficacious succour to the army of Burgoyne, and perhaps, decided 
 in their faVor the final issue of the northern war. But they could not 
 take part in it, as well because they were much too weak, as that 
 Putnam, whose army was now increased by the militia of Connecti- 
 cut, New York, and New Jersey, to six thousand men, menaced 
 them both in front and rear. 
 
 Unable to conquer, the English set themselves to sack the country. 
 The thirteenth of October, Sir Jarnes Wallace, with a flying squad- 
 ron of light frigates, and general Vaughan with a considerable de- 
 tachment of troops, made an excursion up the river, carrying slaughter 
 and destruction wherever they went ; a barbarity of conduct the 
 more execrable, as it was not justified by the least necessity or utility. 
 They marched to a rich and flourishing village, called Kingston or 
 ^sopus, upon the western bank of the river; having driven the re- 
 publicans out of it by a furious cannonade, they set fire to it on every 
 side. All was consumed ; not a house was left standing. Exten- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 49 
 
 sive magazines of provisions and military stores, were also consign- 
 ed to the flames. In order to justify these atrocities it was alleged 
 by Vaughan that the Americans had fired through the windows ; a 
 fact which they denied with greater probability of truth. For it ap- 
 pears that they evacuated the town as soon as they saw the royal 
 troops were disembarked upon the neighboring shore. The English 
 committed these excesses at the very time that Burgoyne was receiv- 
 ing from general Gates the most honorable conditions for himself and 
 a ruined army. 
 
 The American wrote Vaughan a letter full of energy and just indig- 
 nation ; he complained in sharp terms of the burning of ^Esopus, and 
 of the horrible devastations committed upon the (wo banks of the 
 Hudson. He concluded with saying; 'Is it thus that the generals 
 of the king expect to make converts to the royal cause ? Their cruel- 
 ties operate a contrary effect ; independence is founded upon the 
 universal disgust of the people. The fortune of war has delivered 
 into rny hands older and abler generals than general Vaughan is re- 
 puted to be ; their condition may one day become his, and then no 
 human power can save him from the just vengeance of an offended 
 people.' 
 
 But Vaughan and Wallace having heard that Gates was marching 
 rapidly upon them, resolved not to wait his approach. Having dis- 
 mantled the forts, and carrying off their booty, they retired from this 
 quarter, and uniting with the remainder of the troops of Clinton, 
 returned with no ordinary speed to New York. 
 
 Upon the whole, the loss which the United States sustained from 
 this expedition of the English upon the banks of the Hudson, was 
 extremely severe ; for it being universally believed that these elevated 
 and precipitous places were absolutely inaccessible to the fury of the 
 enemy, the Americans had deposited there an immense quantity of 
 arms, ammunition and stores of all sorts. 
 
 The artillery lost, including that of the forts, and that of the vessels 
 destroyed or taken, amounted to more than a hundred pieces of dif- 
 ferent sizes. To which must be added, fifteen or twenty thousand 
 pounds of powder, balls in proportion, and all the implements neces- 
 sary to the daily service of the artillery. 
 
 Meanwhile, the captive army was marched towards Boston. On 
 its departure from Saratoga, it passed in the midst of the ranks of the 
 victorious troops, who were formed in order of battle for this purpose 
 along the road and upon the hills which border the two sides of it. 
 The English expected to be scoffed at and insulted. Not an Ame- 
 rican uttered a syllable ; a memorable example of moderation and 
 military discipline ! The prisoners, particularly those incorrigible 
 Germans, ravaged whatever they could lay their hands on during the 
 march; the inhabitants could judge by what they did, being vanquish- 
 ed, of what they would have done, had they been victors. They 
 
50 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 arrived at Boston, and were lodged in the barracks of Cambridge. 
 The inhabitants held them in abhorrence ; they could not forget the 
 burning of Charlestown, and the late devastations. 
 
 Burgoyne, after the capitulation, experienced the most courteous 
 attentions on the part of the American generals. Gates invited him 
 to his table ; he appeared silent and dejected. The conversation 
 was guarded, and to spare his feelings nothing was said of the late 
 events ; only he was asked how he could find in his heart to burn the 
 houses of poor people. He answered that such were his orders, and 
 that, besides, he was authorised to do it by the laws of war. Certain 
 individuals in New England, without delicacy as without reserve, 
 loaded him with insults. But this was confined to the populace. 
 Well educated men treated him with marked civility. General 
 Schuyler, among others, politely despatched an aid-de-camp, to 
 accompany him to Albany. .He lodged him in his own house, where 
 his wife received him in the most flattering manner. Yet Burgoyne, 
 in the neighborhood of Saratoga, where Schuyler possessed extensive 
 estates, had devoted to the flames his magnificent villa, with its 
 moveables and dependencies, valued at more than thirty-seven thou- 
 sand dollars. At Boston, Burgoyne was likewise lodged in the habi- 
 tation of general Heath, who commanded in Massachusetts ; he there 
 wanted for no attention. He walked at his pleasure through the 
 city, without ever having found occasion to complain of outrage. 
 
 But the other officers did not experience the same reception ; 
 the Bostonians would not lodge them in their houses, and therefore it 
 became necessary to distribute them in the barracks. Burgoyne 
 complained of it, at first, to general Heath, and afterwards to Gates. 
 He insisted that a treatment of his officers so little conformable to 
 their rank, was a violation of the convention of Saratoga. Moreover, 
 fearing that the season, already advanced, might not permit the 
 transports to arrive soon enough at Boston, where the embarkation 
 was appointed by the capitulation, he requested Washington to con- 
 sent that it should take place at Newport, in Rhode Island, or at some 
 other port of the Sound. Washington, not thinking himself author- 
 ised to decide upon this request, submitted it to the determination of 
 Congress. That body was much displeased at this verbal discussion, 
 and especially at the imputation of a breach of faith ; apprehending 
 it might be a pretext which Burgoyne was inclined to use for not 
 keeping his own. 
 
 It appeared, besides, to the Congress, that the vessels assembled 
 at Boston for the transport of the troops, were neither sufficient for 
 so great a number, nor fuAished with provisions enough for so long a 
 voyage. Finally, they observed that the English had not strictly 
 fulfilled the stipulation in respect to the surrender of arms, as they 
 had retained their cartridge boxes, and other effects, which, if not 
 actually arms, are of indispensable use to those who bear them. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 51 
 
 Gates undertook to justify the English upon this point, and with 
 complete success. But the Congress had need of a quarrel, and 
 therefore sought the grounds. They wished to retard the embarka- 
 tion of the prisoners, under the apprehension that, in defia*nce of 
 treaties, they would go to join general Howe, or at least, that arming 
 too early in England, the government would be able to fill their 
 place immediately by an equal number in America. They decreed, 
 therefore, that-general Bujgoyne should furnish the rolls of "his army, 
 that a list might be taken of the name and rank of every commis- 
 sioned officer ; jfeith the name, former place of abode, occupation, 
 size, age and description of every noncommissioned officer and pri- 
 vate soldier. 
 
 Burgoyne considered this demand extraordinary, and^ therefore 
 resorted to various subterfuges in order to evade compliance. Ge- 
 neral Howe, on his part, proceeded with much subtility and illiberally 
 in the exchange of prisoners ; and thus the discontents and suspicions 
 were continually increased. 
 
 The ambiguous conduct of each of these generals alarmed the 
 Congress exceedingly ; they decreed, therefore, thai the embarkation 
 of Burgoyne and all the captive troops should be suspended, until a 
 distinct and explicit ratification of the convention of Saratoga should 
 be properly notified to Congress by the court of Great Britain. At 
 the same time they sent directions to general Heath, to order any 
 vessels which might have arrived, or which should arrive, for the 
 transportation of the army, to quit the port of Boston without delay. 
 An additional force was also provided to guard the British army. 
 Burgoyne then addressed a letter to Congress, in which he endeavored 
 to justify his conduct ; he protested that he had never thought himself 
 released from the conditions of the convention of Saratoga, and 
 affirmed that all his officers individually were ready to give their 
 written promise to observe all the articles of that capitulation. All 
 was in vain ; Congress was inflexible ; and the prisoners had to make 
 up their rninds to remain in America. This decision they took in 
 great dudgeon ; and it served as a pretext for the partisans of the 
 ministry to charge the Americans with perfidy. We shall not under- 
 take to decide whether the fears manifested by Congress had a real 
 foundation ; and we shall abstain as well from blaming the imprudence 
 of Burgoyne, as from praising the wisdom, or condemning the distrust 
 of the Congress. 
 
 It is but too certain that in these civil dissentions and animosities, 
 appearances become realities, and probabilities demonstration. Ac- 
 cordingly, at that time the Americans complained bitterly of British 
 perfidy, and the English of American want of faith. 
 
 Finding that he could obtain nothing for others, Burgoyne solicited 
 for himself, and easily got permission to return to England. As soon 
 as he was arrived in London, he began to declaim with virulence 
 
52 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 against those ministers, whose favor a little before he had used every 
 means to captivate, and who had given him, to the prejudice of a 
 general approved by long services, an opportunity to distinguish his 
 name by a glorious enterprise. Burgoyne wanted neither an active 
 genius nor military science and experience ; but formed in the wars 
 of Germany, his movements were made with caution, and extreme 
 deliberation, and never till all circumstances united to favor them. 
 He would, upon no consideration, have attacked an enemy, until the 
 minutest precepts of the military art had all been faithfully observed. 
 This was totally mistaking the nature of the American war, which 
 required to be carried on with vigor and spirit. TO a region like 
 America, broken by so many defiles and fastnesses, against an enemy 
 so able to profit of them, by scouring the country, by preparing 
 ambuscades, by intercepting convoys and retreats, the celerity which 
 might involve a transient peril, was assuredly preferable to the slow- 
 ness which, under its apparent security, concealed a future and 
 inevitable danger. 
 
 This general lost the opportunity to conquer, because he would 
 never run the risk of defeat ; and as he would put nothing in the 
 power of fortune, she seemed to have thought him unworthy of her 
 favors. Moreover, the employment of savages in the wars of civilised 
 nations, was never the source of durable success ; nor was it ever 
 the practice of prudent generals to provoke the enemy by threats, or 
 to exasperate him by ravages and conflagrations. 
 
 While these events were passing in the north, admiral and general 
 Howe were at sea, undecided whether to enter the Delaware, or to 
 take the route of the Chesapeake bay, in order to march against 
 Philadelphia. Washington continued in New Jersey, prepared to 
 defend the passages of the Hudson, if the British army should have 
 taken thai direction, or to cover Philadelphia, should it threaten that 
 city. But while waiting for certain information respecting the move- 
 ments and plans of the British generals, he neglected none of those 
 measures which were proper to place his army in a situation to resist 
 the storm that was about to burst upon it. He collected arms and 
 ammunition, called out the militia of the neighboring provinces, and 
 ordered to join him all the regiments of regular troops that were not 
 necessary for the defence of the Hudson. These different corps 
 were continually exercised in arms and military evolutions ; wherein 
 they derived great advantage from the example and instructions of 
 the French officers who had recently entered the service of the Uni- 
 ted States. Among these, the splendor of rank added to the fasci- 
 nation of his personal qualities, eminently distinguished the marquis 
 de la Fayette. Animated by the enthusiasm which generous minds 
 are wont to feel for great enterprises, he espoused the cause of the 
 Americans with a partiality common to almost all the men of that 
 time, and particularly to the French. He considered it not only just, 
 
BOQK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 53 
 
 bur exalted and sacred ; the affection he bore it was the more ardent, 
 as independently of the candor of his character, he was of that age, 
 not exceeding nineteen years, in which good appears not only good, 
 but fair, and man not only loves, but is enamored. Inflamed with 
 desire to take part in events which were echoed by all Europe, he 
 had communicated, about the close of 1776, to the American com- 
 missioners his intention of repairing to America ; they had encouraged 
 him in that resolution. But when they were informed of the 
 reverses of New Jersey, compelled almost to despair of the success 
 of the revolution, they, with honorable sincerity, endeavored to dis- 
 suade him from it. They even declared to him that their affairs 
 were so deranged by this unhappy news, that they were not able to 
 charter a vessel for his passage to America. It is said the gallant 
 youth replied, that it was then precisely the moment to serve their 
 cause ; that the more people were discouraged the greater utility 
 would result from his departure, and that if they could not furnish 
 him with a ship, he would freight one at his own expense to convey 
 himself and their despatches to America. And as he said, he also 
 did. The people were astonished, and much conversation was 
 excited by this determination on the part of so illustrious a personage. 
 The court of France, either to save appearances, and avoid giving 
 umbrage to England, or being really displeased at this departure, 
 forbade La Fayette to embark. It is even asserted, that ships were 
 despatched with orders to arrest him in the waters of the West 
 Indies. Tearing himself, however, from the arms of his beloved 
 wife, who was in all the bloom of youth, he put to sea, and steering 
 wide of those islands, arrived in Georgetown. The Congress omitted 
 none of those demonstrations which could persuade the young 
 Frenchman, and all the American people, in what esteem they held 
 his person, and how much they felt the sacrifices he had made, and 
 the dangers to which he had exposed himself, and was still exposed, 
 for being come to offer his support to the tottering cause of America. 
 Touched by this flattering reception, he promised to exert him- 
 self to the utmost of his knowledge and ability ; but requested per- 
 mission to serve at first only as a volunteer and at his own expense. 
 This generosity and modesty of the marquis de la Fayetle, delighted 
 the Americans the more, as some of the French who had entered 
 their service were never to be satisfied in the articles either of pay, 
 or of rank. ' It was Silas Deane who had encouraged these exorbi- 
 tant expectations, by entering in France into such engagements with 
 tjjose officers, as could not be confirmed in America. This conduct 
 had greatly displeased the Congress, and was what chiefly determin- 
 ed them to send him, soon after, a successor in the person of John 
 Adams. The Congress decreed, that 'Whereas the marquis de la 
 Fayette, out of his great zeal to the cause of liberty, in which the 
 United States were engaged, had left his family and connections, 
 
 VOL. II. 8 
 
54 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIH* 
 
 and at his own expense come over to offer his services without pen- 
 sion or particular allowance, and was anxious to risk his life in their 
 defence, they accepted his services ; and that in consideration of 
 his zea), illustrious family and connections, he was invested with the 
 rank of major-general in the army of the United States.' The mar- 
 quis having repaired to the camp, was received with consideration 
 by general Washington, and soon there was established between 
 them that warm friendship which subsisted until the death of the 
 American general. 
 
 The American army was at this time strong in number ; it amount- 
 ed, including however the rnililia, little accustomed to regular battle, 
 to fifteen thousand men. It was full of confidence in its chiefs ; and 
 animated by their example and exhortations. The news was then 
 received that the British fleet was in sight of Cape May, at the 
 mouth of the Delaware, steering eastward. Washington immediately 
 conceived some alarm for the banks of the Hudson, which he had 
 always watched with care from the commencement of the war. He 
 ordered the troops that were to come from Peek's Kill to join him 
 in New Jersey, not to move; and those who were already on the 
 march, to halt in their positions. 
 
 The seventh of August, the British squadron was perceived anew 
 at the entrance of the Delaware ; but it disappeared a little after, 
 and was not heard of again for several days. The commander-in- 
 chief could not penetrate the design of the enemy ; still in doubt, he 
 continued stationary, not knowing where the tempest was to strike. 
 But after a certain lapse of time, even the length of delay led him to 
 suspect that the views of Howe were by no means directed towards 
 the Hudson ; for the winds having prevailed for. a long time from 
 the south, if such had been his intention he would already have been 
 arrived at the destined spot. Washington was therefore inclined to 
 believe that the English meditated an expedition against some part 
 of the southern provinces. He felt indeed some solicitude for the 
 bay of Chesapeake ; but, as it was at no great distance from the 
 mouths of the Delaware, the enemy ought already to have made his 
 appearance there. Upon these considerations, he more feared for 
 the safety of Charleston, South Carolina ; but even if so, he was 
 unable to arrive in time to the relief of that city. Besides, that 
 country was naturally unhealthy, and especially at the present 
 season. 
 
 There was also danger that Howe might reembark his troops, and 
 make a sudden push against Philadelphia, which, in the absence f 
 the army, must inevitably fall into his power. It therefore appeared 
 much more prudent to maintain a position which admitted of watch- 
 ins; over Pennsylvania, and to leave the Carolinas with their own 
 means only to defend themselves as well as they could against the 
 invasions of the enemy. But in order to compensate the losses 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 55 
 
 which might perhaps ensue in that quarter, Washington resolved to 
 march with all his troops towards the Hudson, to be ready to turn 
 bis arms according to circumstances, either against Burgoyne 
 towards Fort Edward, or against Clinton towards New York, then 
 divested of the greater part of its defenders. 
 
 He had scarcely formed this determination, when he was informed 
 that the enemy had appeared with all his forces in the Chesapeake. 
 This intelligence put an end to all his uncertainties, and he then saw 
 distinctly the course he had to pursue. He despatched orders to 
 all the detached corps to join him by forced marches in the environs 
 of Philadelphia, for the purpose of proceeding thence to the^head of 
 the Chesapeake. The militia of Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, 
 and the northern parts of Virginia, were ordered to take arms and 
 repair to the principal army. 
 
 While these preparations were making on the part of the Ameri- 
 cans, the English fleet entered with full sails into the Chesapeake 
 bay, and profiting of a favorable wind, proceeded as far up as the 
 point called Elk Head. From the time of its departure from Sandy 
 Hook this squadron had experienced the most contrary winds, an'd 
 had been more than a week in doubling the capes of Delaware. The 
 English generals were there informed that the Americans had 
 so effectually obstructed the navigation of that river that it would be 
 equally dangerous and fruitless to attempt the passage up to Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 Though some persons maintain that they might easily h'ave disem- 
 barked at Wilmington, whence there was an excellent road leading 
 directly to that city. However this was, they preferred to proceed 
 further south, and to sail up the Chesapeake bay as far as that part 
 of Maryland which borders on Pennsylvania, and is at no great dis- 
 tance from Philadelphia. But in the passage from the Delaware to 
 the Chesapeake the winds were so constantly unfavorable that they 
 could not enter the bay till towards the last of August. This delay 
 was excessively prejudicial to the English army ; the troops being 
 crowded into the vessels along with the horses and all the baggage, 
 in the midst of the hottest season of the year. The health of the 
 soldiers would have suffered still more, if the generals had not taken 
 the precaution to put on board a large stock of fresh provisions and 
 a copious supply of water. The sea became more propitious in the 
 Chesapeake, and the squadron soon gained the coasts of Maryland. 
 Thus the two armies advanced, each towards the other, amidst the 
 axious expectation of the American people. 
 
 About this time an expedition was undertaken by general Sullivan, 
 against Staten Island, the commencement of which had created hopes 
 of a more happy termination. He landed without opposition and 
 took many prisoners, but was afterwards repulsed with heavy loss. 
 He then rapidly retired towards Philadelphia. On the twenty-fifth 
 
56 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 of August, the British army, eighteen thousand strong, was disem- 
 barked not far from the head of the river Elk. It was plentifully 
 furnished with all the equipage of war, excepting the defect of 
 horses, as well for the cavalry as for the baggage. The scarcity of 
 forage had caused many of them to perish the preceding winter, arid 
 a considerable number had died also in the late passage. 
 
 This was a serious disadvantage for the royal troops ; who, in the 
 vast plains of Pennsylvania, might have employed cavalry with singu- 
 lar effect. On the twenty-seventh, the English vanguard arrived at 
 the head of the Elk, and the day following at Gray's Hill. Here it 
 was afterwards joined by the rear guard under general Knyphausen, 
 who had been left upon the coast to cover the debarkation of the 
 stores and artillery. 
 
 The whole army took post behind the river Christiana, having 
 Newark upon the right, and Pencada or Atkins on the left. A 
 column commanded by lord Cornwallis having fallen in with Max- 
 well's riflemen, routed and pursued them as far as the further side 
 of White Clay Creek, with the loss of some dead and wounded. 
 
 The American army, in order to encourage the partisans of inde- 
 pendence and overawe the disaffected, marched through the rity of 
 Philadelphia ; it afterwards advanced towards the enemy, and en- 
 camped behind White Clay Creek. A little after, leaving only the 
 riflemen in the camp, Washington retired with the main body of his 
 army behirud the Red Clay Creek, occupying with his right wing 
 the town of Newport, situated near die Christiana, and upon the 
 great road to Philadelphia ; his left was at Hockesen. But this line 
 was little capable of defence. 
 
 The enemy reenforced by the rear guard under general Grant, 
 threatened with his right the centre of the Americans, extended his 
 left as il with the intention of turning their right flank. Washington 
 saw the danger and retired with his troops behind the Brandy wine ; 
 he encamped on the rising grounds which extend from Chadsford, 
 in the direction of northwest to southeast. The riflemen of Maxwell 
 scoured the right bank of the Brandywine, in order to harass and 
 retard the enemy. The militia under the command of general 
 Armstrong, guarded a passage below the principal encampment of 
 Washington, and the right wing lined the banks of the river higher 
 up, where the passages were more difficult. The passage of Chads- 
 ford, as the most practicable of all, was defended by the chief force 
 of the army. The troops being thus disposed, the American general 
 waited the approach of the English. Although the Brandywint, 
 being fordable almost every where, could not serve as a sufficient 
 defence against the impetuosity of the enemy, yet Washington had 
 taken post upon its banks, from a conviction that a battle was now 
 inevitable, and that Philadelphia could only be saved by a victory. 
 General Howe displayed the front of his army, but not however 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 57 
 
 without great circumspection. Being arrived at Kennen Square, a 
 short distance from the river, he detached his light horse to the right 
 upon Wilmington, to the left upon the Lancaster road, and in front 
 towards Chadsford The two armies found themselves within seven 
 miles of each other, the Brandy wine flowing between them. 
 
 Early in the morning of the eleventh of September, the British 
 army marched to the enemy. Howe had formed his army in two 
 columns; the right commanded by general Knyphausen, the left by 
 lord Corn wa His. His plan was, that while the first should make 
 repeated feints to attempt the passage of Chadsford, in order to 
 occupy the attention of the republicans, the second should take a 
 long circuit to the upper part of the river, and cross at a place where 
 it is divided into two shallow streams. The English marksmen fell 
 in with those of Maxwell, and a smart skirmish was immediately 
 engaged. The latter were at first repulsed ; but being reenforced 
 from the camp, they compelled the English to retire in their turn. 
 But at length, they also were reenforced, and Maxwell was con- 
 strained to withdraw his detachment behind the river. Meanwhile, 
 Knyphausen advanced with his column, and commenced a furious 
 cannonade upon the passage of Chadsford, making all his dispositions 
 as if he intended to force it. The Americans defended themselves 
 with gallantry, and even passed several detachments of light troops 
 to the other side, in order to harass the enemy's flanks. But after a 
 course of skirmishes, sometimes advancing, and at others obliged to 
 retire, they were finally, with an eager pursuit, driven over the river. 
 Knyphausen then appeared more than ever determined to pass the 
 ford ; he stormed, and kept up an incredible noise. In this manner 
 the attention of the Americans was fully occupied in the neighbor- 
 hood of Chadsford. Meanwhile, lord Cornwallis, at the head of 
 the second column, took a circuitous march to the left, and gained 
 unperceived the forks of the Brandywine. By this rapid movement, 
 he passed both branches of the river at Trimble's and at Jeffery's 
 Fords, without opposition, about two o'clock in the afternoon, and 
 then turning short down the river, took the road to Dilworth, in order 
 to fall upon the right flank of the American army. The republican 
 general, however, received intelligence of this movement about noon, 
 and, as it usually happens in similar cases, the reports exaggerated 
 its importance exceedingly ; it being represented that general Howe 
 commanded this division in person. Washington therefore decided 
 immediately for the most judicious, though boldest measure ; this 
 was*, to pass the river with the centre and left wing of his army, and 
 overwhelm Knyphausen by the most furious attack. He justly 
 reflected that the advantage he should obtain upon the enemy's right, 
 would amply compensate the loss that his own mi^ht sustain at the 
 same time. Accordingly, he ordered general Sullivan to pass the 
 Brandywine with his division at an upper ford, and attack the left of 
 
58 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 Knyphausen, while he, in person, should cross lower down and fall 
 upon the right of that general. 
 
 They were both already in motion in order to execute this design, 
 when a second report arrived, which represented what had really 
 taken place as false, or in other words, that the enemy had not 
 crossed the two branches of the river, and that he had not made his 
 appearance upon the right flank of the American troops. Deceived 
 by this false intelligence, Washington desisted ; and Greene, who had 
 already passed with the vanguard, was ordered back. In the midst 
 of these uncertainties, the commander-in-chief at length received the 
 positive assurance, not only that the English had appeared upon the 
 left bank, but also that they were about to fall in great force upon 
 the right wing. It was composed of the brigades of generals Ste- 
 phens, Stirling, and Sullivan ; the first was the most advanced, and 
 consequently the nearest to the English ; the two others were posted 
 in the order of their rank, that of Sullivan being next to the centre. 
 This general was immediately detached from the main body, to 
 support the two former brigades, and, being the senior officer, took 
 the command of the whole wing. Washington himself, followed by 
 general Greene, approached with two strong divisions towards this 
 wing, and posted himself between it and the corps he had left at 
 Chadsford, under general Wayne, to oppose the passage of Knyp- 
 hausen. These two divisions, under the immediate orders of the 
 comrnander-in-chief, served as a corps of reserve, ready to march, 
 according to circumstances, to the succour of Sullivan or of Wayne. 
 
 But the column of Cornwallis was already in sight of the Ameri- 
 cans. Sullivan drew up his troops on the commanding ground above 
 Birmingham meetinghouse, with his left extending towards the 
 Brandywine, and both his flanks covered with very thick woods. 
 His artillery was advantageously planted upon the neighboring hills; 
 but it appears that Sullivan's own brigade, having taken a long cir- 
 cuit, ar-rived too late upon the field of battle, and had not yet occu- 
 pied the position assigned it, when the action commenced. The 
 English having reconnoitred the dispositions of the Americans, 
 immediately formed, and fell upon them with the utmost impetuosity. 
 The engagement became equally fierce on both sides about four 
 o'clock in the afternoon. For some length of time the Americans 
 defended themselves with great valor, and the carnage was terrible. 
 But such was the emulation which invigorated the efforts of the 
 English and Hessians, that neither the advantages of situation, nor a 
 heavy and well supported fire of small arms and artillery, nor the 
 unshaken courage of the Americans, were able to resist their impe- 
 tuosity. The light infantry, chasseurs, grenadiers, and guards, threw 
 themselves with such fury into the midst of the republican battalions, 
 that they were forced to give way. Their left flank was first thrown 
 into confusion, but the rout soon became general. The vanquished 
 
BOOK VIII. THE, AMERICAN 1 WAR. 59 
 
 fled into the woods in their rear ; the victors pursued, and advanced 
 by the great road towards Dilworth. On the first fire of the artillery, 
 Washington, having no doubt of what was passing, had pushed for- 
 ward the reserve to the succour of Sullivan. But this corps, on ap- 
 proaching the field of battle, fell in with the flying soldiers of Sullivan, 
 and perceived that no hope remained of retrieving the fortune of the 
 day. General Greene, by a judicious manoeuvre, opened his ranks 
 to receive the fugitives, and after their passage having closed them 
 anew, he retired in good order ; checking the pursuit of the enemy 
 by a continual fire of the artillery which covered his rear. Having 
 come to a defile, covered on both sides with woods, he drew up his 
 men there, and again faced the enemy. His corps was composed of 
 Virginians and Pennsylvanians ; they defended themselves with gal- 
 lantry ; the former especially, commanded by colonel Stephens, made 
 an heroic stand. 
 
 Knyphausen finding the Americans to be fully engaged on their 
 right, and observing; that the corps opposed to him at Chadsford was 
 enfeebled by the troops which had been detached to the succour of 
 Sullivan, began to make dispositions for crossing the river in reality. 
 The passage of Chadsford was defended by an intrenchment and 
 battery. The republicans stood firm at first ; but upon intelligence 
 of the defeat of their right, and seeing some of the British troops 
 who had penetrated through the woods, come out upon their flank, 
 they retired in disorder, abandoning their artillery and munitions to 
 the German general. In their retreat, or rather flight, they passed 
 behind the position of general Greene, who still defended himself, 
 and was the last to quit the field of battle. Finally, it being already 
 dark, after a long and obstinate conflict, he also retired. The whole 
 army retreated that night to Chester, and the day following to Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 There the fugitives arrived incessantly, having effected their 
 escape through byways and circuitous routes. The victors passed 
 the night on the field of battle. If darkness had not arrived season- 
 ably, it is ve'ry probable that the whole American army would have 
 been destroyed. The loss of the republicans was computed at about 
 three hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and near four hundred 
 taken prisoners. They also lost ten field pieces and a howitzer. 
 The loss in the royal army was not in proportion, being something 
 under five hundred, of which the slain did not amount to one fifth. 
 
 The French officers were of great utility to the Americans, as 
 well in forming the troops, as in rallying them when thrown into 
 confusion. One of them, the baron St. Ovary, was made a prison- 
 er, to the great regret of Congress, who bore him a particular esteenrf 
 Captain de Fleury had a horse killed under him in the hottest of the 
 action. The Congress gave him another a few days after. The 
 marquis de la Fayette, whilst he was endeavoring, by his words and 
 
(30 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 example, to rally the fugitives, was wounded in the leg. He con- 
 tinued, nevertheless, to fulfill his duty both as a soldier in fighting, 
 and as a general, in cheering the troops and reestablishing order. 
 The count Pulaski, a noble Pole, also displayed an undaunted 
 courage, at the head of the light horse. The Congress manifested 
 their sense of his merit by giving him, shortly after, the rank of 
 brigadier, and the command of the cavalry. 
 
 If all the American troops in the action of the Brandywine had 
 fought with the same intrepidity as the Virginians and Pennsylvanians, 
 and, especially, if Washington had not been led into error by a false 
 report, perhaps, notwithstanding the inferiority of number and the im- 
 perfection of arms, he would have gained the victory, or, at least, 
 would have made it more sanguinary to the English. However this 
 might have been, it must be admitted that general Howe's order of 
 battle was excellent ; that his movements were executed with as 
 much ability as promptitude ; and that his troops, English as well as 
 German, behaved admirably well. 
 
 The day after the battle, towards evening, the English despatched 
 a detachment of light troops to Wilmington, a place situated at the 
 confluence of the Christiana and the Brandywine. There they took 
 prisoner the governor of the state of Delaware, and seized a consi- 
 derable quantity of coined money, as well as other property, both 
 public and private, and some papers of importance. 
 
 The other towns of lower Pennsylvania, followed the fortune of 
 the victorious party ; they were all received into the king's obedi- 
 ence. 
 
 The Congress, far from being discouraged by so heavy a reverse, 
 endeavored, on the contrary, to persuade the people that it was by 
 no means so decisive, but that affairs might soon resume a favorable 
 aspect. They gave out, that though the English had remained in 
 possession of the field of battle, yet their victory was far from being 
 complete, since their loss was not less, and perhaps greater, than that of 
 the Americans. They affirmed, that although their army was in part 
 dispersed, still it was safe ; and, in a few days, would be rallied, and 
 in a condition to meet the enemy. Finally, that hold demonstrations 
 might inspire that confidence which, perhaps, words alone would not 
 have produced, the Congress appeared to have no idea of quitting 
 Philadelphia. They ordered that fifteen hundred regulars should be 
 marched to that city from Peek's Kill ; that the militia of New Jersey, 
 with those of Philadelphia, the brigade of general Smallwotid, and a 
 regiment of the line, then at Alexandria, should proceed with all pos- 
 sible despatch to reenforce the principal army in Pennsylvania. They 
 empowered general Washington to impress all wagons, horses, pro- 
 visions, and other articles necessary for the use of the army, or, giving 
 certificates to the owners, who were to be satisfied from the conti- 
 nental treasury. The commander-in-chief exerted himself to inspire 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 6l 
 
 his troops with fresh courage ; he persuaded them that they had not 
 shown themselves at all inferior to their adversaries; and that at 
 another time they might decide in their favor what was left in doubt 
 at the Brandywine. He gave them a day for refreshment, in the 
 environs of Germantown ; but took care to send out the lightest and 
 freshest corps upon the right bank of the Schuyikill, as far as Ches- 
 ter, in order to watch the motions of the enemy, to repress his excur- 
 sions, and at the same time to collect the dispersed and straggling 
 Americans. As to himself, he repaired to Philadelphia, where he 
 had frequent conferences with the Congress, in order to concert with 
 them the measures to be pursued for the reestablishment of affairs. 
 But the fifteenth he returned to camp, and repassing, with all his 
 forces, from the left to the right bank of the Schuyikill, proceeded 
 on the Lancaster road as far as the Warren tavern, with the intention 
 of risking another engagement. Conjecturing that the enemy must be 
 much incurnbered with their sick and wounded, he ordered Small- 
 wood to hang with his light troops on their flank or rear, as occasion 
 might require, and do them all the harm he could. At the same 
 time, the bridge over the Schuyikill was ordered to be loosened from 
 its moorings, to swing on the Philadelphia side ; and general Arm- 
 strong, with the Pennsylvania militia, was directed to guard the passes 
 over that river, for the defence of which M. de Portail, chief of 
 engineers, constructed such sudden works as might be of immediate 
 use. 
 
 General Howe, having passed the night of the eleventh on the field 
 of battle, sent the following day a strong detachment to Concord, 
 commanded by general Grant, who was joined afterwards by lord 
 Cornwallis. They marched together towards Chester, upon the bank 
 of the Delaware, as if they intended to surprise Philadelphia. Howe, 
 with the main body of his army, advanced to gain the Lancaster 
 road, and had arrived on the sixteenth near Goshen, when he receiv- 
 ed intelligence that Washington was approaching with all his troops 
 to give him battle, and was already within five miles of Goshen. 
 With great alacrity both armies immediately prepared for action; the 
 advanced parties had met, when there came up so violent a fall of 
 rain, that the soldiers were forced to cease their fire. The Amo- 
 ricans, especially, suffered exceedingly from it in their arms and 
 ammunition. Their gunlocks not being well secured, many of their 
 muskets were rendered unfit for use. Their cartridgeboxes had 
 been so badly constructed as not to protect their powder from the 
 severity of the tempest. 
 
 These circumstances compelled Washington to defer the engage- 
 ment. He therefore recrossed the Schuyikill at Parker's Ferry, and 
 encamped upon the eastern bank of that river, on both sides of 
 Perkyomy Creek. But as this retreat left general Smallwood too 
 much exposed to be surrounded by the enemy, general Wayne, with 
 
 VOL. II. 9 
 
G2 THE AMERICAN WAR. POOR VIII. 
 
 his division, was detached to the rear of the British with orders to 
 join him ; and carefully concealing himself and his movements, to 
 seize every occasion which their march might offer, of engaging them 
 to advantage. 
 
 The extreme severity of the weather entirely stopped the British 
 army, and prevented any pursuit. They made no oiher movement 
 than merely to unite their columns, and then took post at Tryduffin, 
 whence they detached a party to seize a magazine of flour and other 
 stores, which the republicans had deposited at Valley Forge. Howe 
 discovered by his spies, that general Wayne, with fifteen hundred 
 men, was lying in the woods in the rear, and not far from the left 
 wing of his army. Suspecting some scheme of enterprise, he deter- 
 mined to avert the stroke, by causing Wayne to experience the check 
 he destined for him. Accordingly, in the night of the thirteenth, he 
 detached general Grey, with two regiments and a body of light infant- 
 ry, to surprise the enemy. That general conducted the enterprise 
 with great prudence and activity. Stealing his way through the 
 woods, he arrived undiscovered, about one in the morning, before the 
 encampment of Wayne. Having forced his pickets without noise, 
 the British detachment, guided by the light of their fires, rushed in 
 upon the enemy, torpid with sleep and chilled with terror. In the 
 midst of this obscurity and confusion, a shocking slaughter was exe- 
 cuted with bayonets. The Americans lost many of their men, with 
 their baggage, arms, and stores. The whole corps must have been 
 cut off, if Wayne had not preserved his coolness ; he promptly rallied 
 a few regiments, who withstood the shock of the enemy, and covered 
 the retreat of the others. The loss of the English was very inconsi- 
 derable. When this attack commenced, general Smallwood, who was 
 coming up to join Wayne, was already within a mile of the field of 
 battle; and, had he commanded troops who were to be relied on, 
 might have given a very different turn to the night. But his militia, 
 who were excessively alarmed, thought only of their own safety ; and 
 having fallen in with a party returning from the pursuit of Wayne, 
 they instantly fled in confusion. 
 
 Having thus secured his rear, the British general resolved to bring 
 the Americans to action, or to press them so far from Philadelphia as 
 should enable him to push suddenly across the Schuylkill, and turn 
 without danger to his right, in order to take possession of that city. 
 To this end he made such movements upon the western bank, as to 
 give the enemy jealousy that he intended to cross higher up, where 
 the river was more shallow, and after turning his right flank, to seize 
 the extensive magazines of provisions and military stores, which had 
 been established at Reading. In order to oppose so great a mischief, 
 Washington retired with his army up the river, and encamped at 
 Potts Grove. Howe, on intelligence of this change of the enemy's 
 position, immediately crossed the Schuylkill without opposition ; a 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 60 
 
 part of his troops being passed at Gordon's Ford, and the rest lower 
 down at Flatland Ford. On the night of the twenty-third, the whole 
 British army encamped upon the left bank ; thus finding itself be- 
 tween the army of Washington and the city of Philadelphia. 
 
 It was now selfevident that nothing could save that city from the 
 grasp of the English, unless the American general chose to risk a 
 battle for its rescue. 
 
 But Washington, more guided by prudence than by the wishes 
 and clamors of the multitude, abstained from resorting to that fatal 
 experiment. He deemed it a measure of blind temerity to commit 
 the fate of America to the uncertain issue of a general engagement. 
 He daily expected the arrival of the remaining troops of Wayne and 
 Smallwood, the continental troops of Peek's Kill and the provincial 
 militia of New Jersey, under the command of general Dickinson. 
 The soldiers were less fatigued than worn down by continual 
 marches, bad roads, want of food and sufferings of every denomina- 
 tion. A council of war being assembled, and the condition of the 
 army considered, it was unanimously decided to remain on the pre- 
 sent ground, until the expected reenforcements should arrive, and to 
 allow the harassed troops a few days for repose. 
 
 Washington resolved to proceed in every point with extreme cir- 
 cumspection, holding himself ready to seize the occasions which 
 Heaven might offer him for the glory of its own cause, and for the 
 good of the republic. Philadelphia was therefore abandoned as a 
 prey which could not escape the enemy. 
 
 When it was known in that city that the violent rain which fell on 
 the sixteenth, had prevented the two armies from coming to action, 
 and that Washington had been constrained to retire behind the 
 Schuylkill, Congress adjourned itself to the twenty-seventh, at Lan- 
 caster. At the same time, the public magazines and archives were 
 evacuated with all diligence ; the vessels lying at the wharves were 
 removed up the Delaware. About twenty individuals were taken 
 into custody, the greater part of them Quakers, avowed enemies to 
 the state ; having positively refused to give any security in writing, 
 or even verbal attestation, of submission or allegiance to the present 
 government. They were sent off to Staunton, in Virginia, as a place 
 of security. 
 
 With unshaken confidence in the virtue of Washington, as a suffi- 
 cient pledge for the hope of the republic, the Congress invested him 
 with the same dictatorial powers that were conceded him after the 
 reverses of New Jersey. At length, the rumor of the approach of 
 the English increasing from hour to hour, they left the city. Lord 
 Corn walli s entered Philadelphia the twenty-sixth of September, at 
 the head of a detachment of British and Hessian grenadiers. The 
 rest of the army remained in the camp of Germantown. Thus the 
 rich and populous capital of the whole confederation fell into the 
 
64 THE AMERICAN WAR. . BOOK VIII, 
 
 power of the royalists, after a sanguinary battle, and a series of 
 manoeuvres, no less masterly than painful, of the two armies. The 
 Quakers, and all the other loyalists who had remained there, wel- 
 comed the English with transports of gratulation. Washington, 
 descending along the left bank of the Schuylkill, approached within 
 sixteen miles of Germantown. He encamped at Skippach Creek, 
 purposing to accommodate his measures to the state of things. 
 
 The loss of Philadelphia did not produce among the Americans a 
 particle of that discouragement which the English had flattered 
 themselves would be the consequence of this event. The latter, on 
 finding themselves masters of that city, erected batteries upon the 
 Delaware, in order to command the whole breadth of the river, pre- 
 vent any sudden attack by water, and interdict to the republicans all 
 navigation between its upper and lower parts. While they were 
 engaged in these works, the Americans, with the frigate Delaware 
 anchored within five hundred yards of the unfinished batteries, and 
 with some smaller vessels, commenced a very heavy cannonade both 
 upon the batteries and the town. They did not, however, display 
 the judgment which their knowledge of the river might be supposed 
 to afford ; for upon the falling of the tide the Delaware grounded so 
 effectually that she could not be got off, which being perceived by 
 the English, they brought their cannon to play upon her with so 
 much effect that she was soon obliged to strike her colors. The 
 same fire compelled the other vessels to retire up the river, with the 
 loss of a schooner which was driven ashore. 
 
 The Americans, under the apprehension of what afterwards hap- 
 pened, that is, of not being able to preserve- Philadelphia, had, with 
 great labor and expense, constructed all manner of works to interrupt 
 the navigation of the river, in order to prevent the British fleet from 
 communicating with the troops that might occupy the city. They 
 knew that the army of Washington, when it should have received its 
 reenforcements, would soon be in a condition to take the field anew, 
 and to cut off the enemy's supplies on the side of Pennsylvania ; if, 
 therefore, unable to procure them by water, the English must in a 
 short time be compelled to evacuate the city. Pursuant to this rea- 
 soning, the Americans had erected works and batteries upon a flat, 
 low, marshy island, or rather a bank of mud and sand which had 
 been accumulated in the Delaware near the junction of the Schuylkill, 
 and which from it nature was called Mud, but from these defences, 
 Fort Island. On the opposite shore of New Jersey, at a place 
 called Red Bank, they had also constructed a fort or redoubt, well 
 covered with heavy artillery. In the deep navigable channel, be- 
 tween or under the cover of these batteries, they had sunk several 
 ranges of frames or machines, the construction of which we have 
 already described in a foregoing book. About three miles lower 
 down, they had sunk other ranges of these machines, and were con- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 65 
 
 structing for their protection some considerable and extensive works, 
 which, though not yet finished, were in such forwardness, as to be 
 provided with artillery, and to command their object, at a place on 
 the Jersey side, called Billings Point. These works and machines 
 were further supported by several gallies, mounting heavy cannon, 
 together with two floating batteries, a number of armed vessels and 
 small craft of various kinds, and some fire-ships. 
 
 The English well knew the importance of opening for themselves 
 a free communication with the sea, by means of the Delaware ; since 
 their operations could never be considered secure, so long as the 
 enemy should maintain positions upon the banks of that river ; and 
 accordingly they deliberated upon the means of reducing them. Im- 
 mediately after the success of the Brandy wine, lord Howe, who 
 commanded the whole fleet, had made sail for the mouth of the 
 Delaware, and several light vessels had already arrived in that river, 
 among others the Roebuck, commanded by captain Hammond. 
 That officer represented to general Howe, that if sufficient forces 
 were sent to attack the fort at Billings Point, on the Jersey shore, it 
 might be taken without difficulty ; and that he would then take upon 
 himself to open a passage for the vessels through the chevaux-de- 
 frize. The general approved this project, and detached two regi- 
 ments under colonel Stirling, to carry it into effect. The detach- 
 ment, having crossed the river from Chester, the moment they had 
 set foot upon the Jersey shore, marched with all speed to attack the 
 fort in rear. 
 
 The Americans, not thinking themselves able to sustain the 
 enemy's assault, immediately spiked their artillery, set fire to the ' 
 barracks, and abandoned the place with precipitation. The English 
 waited to destroyer to render unserviceable those parts of the works 
 which fronted the river, and this success, with the spirit and perse- 
 verance exhibited by the officers and crews of the ships under his 
 command, enabled Hammond, through great difficulties, to carry the 
 principal object of the expedition inta effect, by cutting away and 
 weighing up so much of the chevaux-de-frize as opened a narrow 
 passage for the shipping through this lower barrier. 
 
 The two regiments of Stirling returned, after their expedition to 
 Chester, whether another had been sent to meet them, in order that 
 they might all together form a sufficient escort for a large convoy of 
 provisions to the camp. 
 
 Washington, who had not left his position at Skippach Creek, 
 being informed that three regiments had been thus detached, and 
 knowing that lord Cornwallis lay at Philadelphia with four battalions 
 of grenadiers, perceived that the army of Howe must be sensibly 
 weakened. He determined, therefore, to avail himself of this favor- 
 able circumstance, and to fall unexpectedly upon the British army 
 encamped at Germantown. 
 
66 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 He took ibis resolution with the more confidence, as he was now 
 reenforced by the junction of the troops from Peek's Kill and the 
 Maryland militia. 
 
 Germantown is a considerable village, about half a dozen miles 
 from Philadelphia, and which, stretching on both sides of the great 
 road to the northward, forms a continued street of two miles in length. 
 The British line of encampment crossed Germantown at right angles 
 about the centre, the left wing extending on the west, from the town 
 to the Schuylkill. That wing was covered in front, by the mounted 
 and dismounted German chasseurs, who were stationed a little above 
 towards the American camp ; a battalion of light infantry, and the 
 Queen's American rangers were in the front of the right. The 
 centre being posted within the town, was guarded by the fortieth 
 regiment, and another battalion of light infantry stationed about three 
 quarters of a mile above the head of the village. Washington 
 resolved to attack the British by surprise, not doubting that, if he 
 succeeded in breaking them, as they were riot only distant, but totally 
 separated from the fleet, his victory must be decisive. 
 
 He so disposed his troops, that the divisions of Sullivan and Wayne, 
 flanked by Conway's brigade, were to march down the main road, 
 and entering the town by the way of Chestnut Hill, to attack the 
 English centre, and the right flank of their left wing ; the divisions 
 of Greene and Stephens, flanked by Macdougall's brigade, were to 
 take a circuit towards the east, by the Limekiln road, and entering 
 the town at the markethouse. to attack the left flank of the right 
 wing. The intention of the American general in seizing the village 
 ' of Germantown by a double attack, was effectually to separate the 
 right and left wings of the royal army, which must have given him 
 a certain victory. In order that the left flank of the left wing might 
 not contract itself, and support the right flank of the same wing, 
 general Armstrong, with the Pennsylvania militia, was ordered to 
 march down the bridge road upon the banks of the Schuylkill, and 
 endeavor to turn the English, if they should retire from that river. 
 I In like manner, to prevent the right flank of the right wing from 
 Agoing to the succour of the left flank, which rested upon German- 
 town, the militia of Maryland and Jersey, under generals Smallwood 
 and Forman, were to march down the Old York road, and to fall 
 upon the English on that extremity of their wing. The division of 
 lord Sterling, and the brigades of generals Nash and Maxwell, 
 . formed the reserve. These dispositions being made, Washington 
 quitted his camp at Skippach Creek, and moved towards the enemy, 
 * on the third of October, about seven in the evening;. Parties of 
 "cavalry silently scoured all the roads to seize any individuals who 
 might have given notice to the British general of the danger that 
 threatened him. Washington in person accompanied the column of 
 Sullivan and Wayne. The march was rapid and silent. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. G7 
 
 At three o'clock in the morning, the British patroles discovered 
 the approach of the Americans ; the troops were soon called to 
 arms ; each took his post with the precipitation of surprise. About 
 sunrise the Americans came up. General Conway having driven in 
 the pickets, fell upon the fortieth regiment and the battalion of light 
 infantry. These corps, after a short resistance, being overpowered 
 by numbers, were pressed and pursued into the village. Fortune 
 appeared already to have declared herself in favor of the Americans ; 
 and certainly if they had gained complete possession of Germantown, 
 nothing could have frustrated them of the most signal victory. But 
 in this conjuncture, lieutenant-colonel Musgrave threw himself, with 
 six companies of the fortieth regiment, into a large and strong stone 
 house, situated near the head of the village, from which he poured 
 upon the assailants so terrible a fire of musketry that they could 
 advance no further. The Americans attempted to storm this unex- 
 pected covert of the enemy, but those within continued to defend 
 themselves with resolution. They finally brought cannon up to the 
 assault, but such was the intrepidity of the English, and the violence 
 of their fire, that it was found impossible to dislodge them. During 
 this time, general Greene had approached the right wing, and routed, 
 after a slight engagement, the light infantry and Queen's rangers. 
 Afterwards, turning a little to his right, and towards Germantown, he 
 fell upon the left flank of the enemy's right wing, and endeavored to 
 enter the village. Meanwhile, he expected that the Pennsylvania 
 militia, under Armstrong, upon the right, and the militia of Maryland 
 and Jersey, commanded by Smallwood and Forman on the left, would 
 have executed the orders of the commander-in-chief, by attacking 
 and turning, the first the left, and the second the right, flank of the 
 British army. But either because the obstacles they encountered 
 had retarded them, or that they wanted ardor, the former arrived in 
 sight of the German chasseurs, and did not attack them j the latter 
 appeared too late upon the field of battle. 
 
 The consequence was, that general Gray, finding his left flank 
 secure, marched, with nearly the whole of the left wing, to the 
 assistance of the centre, which, notwithstanding the unexpected 
 resistance of colonel Musgrave, was excessively hard pressed in 
 Germantown, where the Americans gained ground incessantly. The 
 battle was now very warm at that village, the attack and the defence 
 being equally vigorous. The issue appeared for some time dubious. 
 General Agnew was mortally wounded, while charging with great 
 bravery, at the head of the fourth brigade. The American colonel 
 Matthews, of the column of Greene, assailed the English with so 
 much fury that he drove them before him into the town. He had 
 taken a large number of prisoners, and was about entering the village, 
 when Le perceived that a thick fog and the unevenness of the ground 
 had caused him to lose sight of the rest of his division. Being soon 
 
6S THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 enveloped by the extremity of the right wing, which fell back upon 
 him when it had discovered that nothing was to be apprehended from 
 the tardy approach of the militia of Maryland and Jersey, he was 
 compelled to surrender with all his party ; the English had already 
 rescued their prisoners. This check was the cause that two regi- 
 ments of the English right wing were enabled to throw themselves 
 into Germantown, and to attack the Americans who had entered it 
 in flank. Unable to sustain the shock, they retired precipitately, 
 leaving a great number of killed and wounded. Lieutenant-colonel 
 Musgrave, to whom belongs the principal honor of this affair, was 
 then relieved from all peril. General Grey, being absolute master 
 of Germantown, flew to the succour of the right wing, which was 
 engaged with the left of the column of Greene. The Americans 
 then took to flight, abandoning to the English throughout the line, a 
 victory of which, in the commencement of the action, they had felt 
 assured. 
 
 The principal causes of the failure of this well concerted enter- 
 prise, were the extreme haziness of the weather ; which was so thick, 
 that the Americans could neither discover the situation nor movements 
 of the British army, nor yet those of their own ; the inequality of 
 the ground, which incessantly broke the ranks of their battalions ; an 
 inconvenience more serious and difficult to be repaired for new and 
 inexperienced troops, as were most of the Americans, than for the 
 English veterans ; and, finally, the unexpected resistance of Mus- 
 grave, who found means, in a critical moment, to transform a mere 
 house into an impregnable fortress. 
 
 Thus fortune, who at first had appeared disposed to favor one 
 party, suddenly declared herself on the side of their adversaries. 
 Lord Cornwallis, being at Philadelphia, upon intelligence of the 
 attack upon the camp, flew to its succour with a corps of cavalry and 
 the grenadiers ; but when he reached the field of battle, the Ameri- 
 cans had already left it. They had two hundred men killed in this 
 action ; the number of wounded amounted to six hundred ; and 
 about four hundred were made prisoners. One of their most 
 lamented losses was that of general Nash, of North Carolina. The 
 loss of the British was little' over five hundred in killed and wounded; 
 among the former were brigadier-general Agnew, an officer of rare 
 merit, and colonel Bird. The American army saved all its artillery, 
 and retreated the same day about twenty miles, to Perkyomy Creek. 
 
 The Congress expressed in decided terms their approbation, both 
 of the plan of this enterprise and the courage with which it was 
 executed ; for which their thanks were given to the general and the 
 army. General Stephens, however, was cashiered for misconduct 
 on the retreat. 
 
 A few days after the battle, the royal army removed from German- 
 town to Philadelphia. The want of provisions would not have 
 
1300K VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 69 
 
 permitted Howe lo follow the enemy into his fastnesses, and he was 
 desirous of cooperating with the naval force in opening the navi- 
 gation of the Delaware. Washington, having received a small 
 reenforcement of fifteen hundred militia, and a state regiment from 
 Virginia, again advanced a few miles towards the English, and 
 encamped once more at Skippach Creek. Thus, the British general 
 might have seen that he had to grapple with an adversary, who, far 
 from allowing himself to be discouraged by adverse fortune, seemed, 
 on the contrary, to gain by it more formidable energies ; who, the 
 moment after defeat, was prepared to resume the offensive ; and 
 whose firmness and activity were such, that even the victories 
 obtained by his adversaries only yielded them the effects of defeat. 
 Nor was the taking of Philadelphia attended with those advantages 
 which were expected from it. 
 
 The inhabitants of the country were not in the least intimidated 
 by that event; and the victorious army, surrounded on all sides by 
 enemies, found itself, as it were, immured within the precincts of the 
 city. Washington, posted on the heights of the Schuylkill, main- 
 tained a menacing attitude ; he employed his cavalry and light troops 
 in scouring the country between the banks of that river and those of 
 the Delaware. He thus repressed the excursions of the English, 
 prevented them from foraging with safety, and deterred the disaffected 
 or the avaricious among the people of the country from conveying 
 provisions to their camp. Moreover, the Congress passed a resolu- 
 tion, subjecting to martial law and to death all those who should 
 furnish the royal troops with provisions, or any other aids whatsoever. 
 
 Compelled to relinquish the hope of supporting his army from the 
 adjacent country, the British general now applied himself with dili- 
 gence to the task of removing the obstructions of the Delaware, 
 and opening a free communication with the fleet. The enterprise 
 presented difficulties and dangers of no ordinary magnitude. To 
 succeed in this operation, it was necessary to seize Mud Island, which 
 was defended by Fort Mifflin, and the point of Red Bank, where 
 the Americans had erected Fort Mercer. After the reduction of 
 these two fortresses, the upper chevaux-de-frize might be destroyed. 
 
 General Howe, therefore, resolved to attack them both at the same 
 time, in concert with those ships which had been able to pass the 
 lower barrier. Batteries of heavy artillery had been erected on the 
 Pennsylvania side, in front of Mud Island, to assist in dislodging the 
 enemy from that position. Th$ garrison of Fort Mifflin was com- 
 manded by colonel Smith, and that of Fort Mercer by colonel 
 Greene, both officers in great esteem among the Americans. 
 
 General Howe had arranged for the attack of Fort Mifflin, that 
 while the batteries on the western shore should open their fire upon 
 its right flank, the Vigilant ship of war, passing up the narrow chan- 
 nel which separates Hog Island from the Pennsylvania shore, should 
 
 VOL. II. 10 
 
70 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Vlir. 
 
 cannonade it in the rear, arid the frigates, with the ships Isis and 
 Augusta in front, approaching it by the middle channel, which is 
 considerably wider and deeper. As to Fort Mercer, it was also to 
 be attacked* in the rear, on the side of New Jersey, by landing troops 
 on the left bank of the Delaware. 
 
 According to these dispositions, the English put themselves in 
 motion on the evening of the twenty-first of October. Colonel 
 Donop, a German officer, who had distinguished himself in the 
 course of this campaign, passed the Delaware from Philadelphia, 
 with a strong detachment of Hessians, at Cooper's Ferry. Then 
 marching down upon the Jersey shore, along the bank of the river, 
 he arrived at a late hour the following day, in the rear of Red Bank. 
 The fortifications consisted of extensive outer works, within which 
 was a strong palisaded intrenchment, well furnished with artillery. 
 Donop attacked the fort with the utmost gallantry. The Americans, 
 after a slight resistance in the outer intrenchment, finding their num- 
 ber too small to man it sufficiently, withdrew into the body of the 
 redoubt, where they made a vigorous defence. 
 
 Their intrepidity and the want of scaling ladders baffled all the 
 efforts of the Hessians. Colonel Donop was mortally wounded and 
 taken prisoner. Several of his best officers were killed or disabled ; 
 colonel Mingerod-e himself, the second in command, received a dan- 
 gerous wound. The Hessians were then severely repulsed ; and 
 lieutenant-colonel Linsing drew them off with precipitation ; but even 
 in their retreat they suffered extremely by the fire of the enemy's 
 gallies and floating batteries. The loss of the Hessians was estimated 
 at not less than four or five hundred men. Donop expired of his 
 wounds the next day. The Americans owed much of their success 
 to the Chevalier du Plessis, a French officer, who directed the 
 artillery with great ability and valor. The vanquished returned to 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Meanwhile, the ships had advanced, in order to be in readiness to 
 attack Mud Island. After having made their way with difficulty 
 through the lower barrier, the Augusta man of war, several frigates 
 and other smaller vessels, waited above it for the tide ; the moment 
 the flood set in, they proceeded towards their destined stations. But 
 a strong northerly wind prevented the Vigilant from taking the post 
 assigned her between Hog Island and the Pennsylvania shore. 
 Moreover, the obstructions which the Americans had sunk in the 
 bed of the river, had, in some degree, altered its natural channel. 
 By this means the Augusta and Merlin were grounded so fast, at 
 some distance from the chevaux-de-frize, that there was no possibi- 
 lity of getting them off. The frigates, however, reached their sta- 
 tions and commenced a cannonade upon Fort Mifflin, while the 
 batteries on shore were also opened upon the garrison.- The Ame- 
 ricans defended themselves with spirit, and night soon put an end to 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 71 
 
 the engagement. Early next morning the English renewed the 
 attack, not that in the present state of things they expected to reduce 
 the fort, but in the hope that, under cover of their fire, the two ships 
 which were grounded might be got off. Notwithstanding their 
 efforts, the Augusta took fire and blew up ; the Merlin, which could 
 not be removed, was hastily evacuated and laid in a train of destruc- 
 tion. The frigates, despairing of success, and fearing the effect of 
 the explosion, retired with the utmost expedition. The Congress 
 voted their thanks and a sword to colonels Greene and Smith, for 
 having so gallantly defended the two forts. 
 
 The ill success of these two attacks did not, however, discourage 
 the British commanders ; and such was the importance of opening 
 the navigation of the Delaware, as well to secure the arrival of stores 
 and supplies as to obtain a free communication with the fleet, that 
 they resolved to leave no means unessayed for the attainment of this 
 object. 
 
 Fort Mifflin was placed at the lower end of Mud Island, having 
 its principal fortifications in front, for the purpose of repelling ships 
 coming up the river. At the opposite extremity, no attack being 
 expected, as the naval means of the British in Philadelphia were too 
 feeble to excite alarm, the fort was surrounded only by a wet ditch. 
 This part, however, was flanked by a blockhouse at each of its 
 angles, one of which had be-en much damaged in the late attack. A 
 little above Mud Island is another small morassy island called Pro- 
 vince Island ; this the English had occupied in opder to be able to 
 batter Fort Mifflin in its rear, and weakest part. They were inces- 
 santly employed in conveying thither heavy artillery, provisions, and 
 stores, by a difficult channel, near the west bank of the river, behind 
 Hog Island. They also erected fortifications, in the most suitable 
 plarcs. The Americans perceived distinctly that when the enemy 
 should have completed his works in this island, their position in Mud 
 Island would no longer be tenable. 
 
 Washington would have desired, by a sudden expedition, to dis- 
 lodge the English from Province Island, but as Howe had thrown a 
 bridge over the Schuylkill, he might, while the Americans were 
 attempting this stroke, have fallen upon their rear and cut off their 
 retreat. If the American general marched with all his army to cover 
 it, he exposed himself to a general battle, which he wished to avoid. 
 It appeared to him imprudent, to put so much at hazard, after the 
 late unfortunate actions. He^felt the greater repugnance to embrace 
 adventurous counsels, as he was already apprised of the successes 
 obtained by the northern army ; in consequence of which, a great 
 part of the troops employed against Burgoyne, might be drawn to 
 reenforce his own. He abstained, therefore, from undertaking the 
 enterprise against Province Island, hoping however that the courage 
 of the defenders ojf Fort Mifflin, and the succours that might be 
 sent them secretly, would suffice to prolong their resistance. 
 
72 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK V1I1. 
 
 But every thing being prepared on the side of the English, they 
 executed their attack the fifteenth of November. All the ships 
 being arrived at their posts, opened a furious cannonade. The 
 Americans answered it, at first, with no less vigor from the fort, from 
 the batteries of New Jersey, and from the gallies which were stationed 
 near that shore. But at length, the works being battered down and 
 the ditches filled up with their ruins, their situation became critical. 
 
 They perceived the English were taking measures for storming 
 the body of the fortress the following morning, and being sensible 
 that, in the present state of things, it was not defensible, having sent 
 off their stores, they set fire to every thing that was capable of 
 receiving it, and evacuated the place in the night. They withdrew 
 to Red Bank. The next day the English took possession of the 
 fort. 
 
 It still remained to dislodge the soldiers of Congress from Red 
 Bank, before the obstructions of the Delaware could be entirely 
 removed. This operation was of absolute necessity ; for, although 
 some vessels of easy burthen, being loaded with provisions from the 
 country about Chester, where the inhabitants were well affected to 
 the royal cause, brought scanty supplies to Philadelphia, yet the 
 scarcity in that city became daily more distressing ; and firewood 
 was almost totally wanting. 
 
 In consequence of these considerations, general Howe having 
 covered Philadelphia by intrenchments, extending from the De- 
 laware to the jchuylkill, and having received some reenforce- 
 ments from New York, sent Cornvvallis with a strong detachment to 
 the Jersey shore, with instructions to collect provisions, and attack 
 Fort Mercer in the rear. That general, having crossed from Ches- 
 ter to Billings point, prepared to execute the orders he had received. 
 He was there joined by a body of forces just arrived from New 
 York. Washington, upon intelligence of this movement, being ear- 
 nestly desirous to preserve, if practicable, a position so capable of 
 arresting the progress of the enemy, had ordered major-general 
 Greene, an officer he much esteemed for his talents and intrepidity, 
 to pass, also, at the head of a strong detachment into New Jersey. 
 A hope was entertained that he would be able, not only to protect 
 Fort Mercer, but to obtain some decisive advantage over lord 
 Cornwallis ; as the situation of the fort, which the British general 
 could only invest by placing himself between Timber and Manto 
 Creeks, neither of them fordable for^H^reat distance from the Dela- 
 ware, would expose the assailants to great peril from a respectable 
 force in their rear. General Greene passed the Delaware, and 
 landed at Burlington. He was accompanied by the marquis de la 
 Fayette, who was eager to enter the field again, though not yet well 
 cured of his wound. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 73 
 
 This division was to be reenforced by the troops expected from 
 the banks of the Hudson. The march was commenced ; but gene- 
 ral Greene being informed that Cornwallis was become greatly 
 superior to him in number, by the junction of the reenforcement 
 from New York, abandoned the plan of giving him battle. Hence 
 colonel Greene, who commanded the garrison, losing all hope of 
 succour, and apprised of the approach of Cornwallis, evacuated 
 Fort Mercer and Red Bank, leaving his artillery, with a considerable 
 quantity of cannon ball and stores in the power of the royalists. The 
 English dismantled the fort, and demolished all the works. 
 
 The American shipping having now lost all protection on either 
 side of the river, several gallies and other armed vessels took the 
 advantage of a favorable night to pass the batteries of Philadelphia, 
 and escape to places of security further up. The English, on per- 
 ceiving this transaction, sent an officer with a party of seamen to 
 man the Delaware frigate, and took such other measures as rendered 
 the escaping of the remainder impracticable. Thus environed, the 
 crews abandoned and set fire to their vessels, which were all con- 
 sumed, to the amount of seventeen^ of different sorts, including two 
 floating batteries, and four fire ships. The English having secured, 
 as we have seen, the command of the river, labored to clear it of ail 
 the impediments with which the Americans had obstructed its chan- 
 nel. But the difficulties they had to surmount were extreme, and 
 the season was far advanced, it being already the last of November. 
 With all these efforts they could only obtain such an opening through 
 thn upper barrier as admitted vessels of easy burthen. These were 
 accordingly employed for the transport of provisions and stores to 
 Philadelphia. Although the royalists had thus partly succeeded in 
 reestablishing the navigation of the Delaware, the resistance of the 
 republicans had been so strenuous and so long, that general Howe 
 could find no opportunity for attacking the army of Washington 
 before it was reenforced by the victorious troops of the Hudson. 
 Acting always with prudence, the British general would never expose 
 himself to the hazard of a battle until he was sure of being able to 
 communicate freely with the fleet of the admiral, his brother, as well 
 on account of supplies, as for the security of retreat in case of mis- 
 fortune. General Greene had remained in New Jersey. He had 
 already been joined by several corps sent by general Gates to the as- 
 sistance of the army of Pennsylvania; among them was that of Mor- 
 gan's riflemen, become celebrateWby a multitude of brilliant exploits. 
 Washington was not without hopes that Greene would find occasion 
 to gain some advantage that might counterbalance the losses, which 
 it had been impossible to avoid. But Cornwallis had so fortified 
 himself on Gloucester Point, that he was perfectly secure from any 
 enterprise on the part of general Greene. Washington then became 
 apprehensive that the British general, having accomplished all the 
 
74 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 objects of his expedition into New Jersey, by the reduction of Fort 
 Mercer, the junction with his reenforcements. and the expediting of 
 a great quantity of provisions to Philadelphia, might suddenly recross 
 the Delaware, and thus enable Howe, with all his forces, to attack 
 the American army while divided. Greene was therefore ordered 
 to repass the river immediately, and join the principal arrny at 
 Skippach Creek. Similar considerations determined general Howe 
 to direct the detachment of Cornwallis to rejoin him without delay. 
 Before, however, the two parties evacuated New Jersey, Morgan's 
 rifle corps and some detachments of militia, commanded by the 
 marquis de la Fayette, gallantly attacked and routed a body of 
 Hessians and English grenadiers. After this affair, the marquis, who 
 had till then served as a volunteer, was invested by Congress with 
 the command of a division of the 'army. 
 
 Washington had at length been reenforced by the troops which 
 Gates had sent him ; their march had experienced difficulties and 
 frequent delays. Gates himself had shown much repugnance to put 
 them in motion ; and, besides, they had manifested a mutinous spirit 
 towards their chiefs, declaring that they would not march without 
 money and without clothing. Their officers, however, finally suc- 
 ceeded in persuading them to proceed. This aid was composed of 
 four thousand men of approved courage, and flushed with recent vic- 
 tory ; but squalid in their appearance, from fatigues and want of 
 necessaries. After the junction of these troops, Washington advanc- 
 ed within fourteen miles of Philadelphia, to a place called White 
 Marsh, where he encamped in a very strong position, with his right 
 to the Wissahickon creek, and the front partly covered by Sandy 
 Run. At this time the American army consisted of twelve thousand 
 regulars and something over, with about three thousand militia. 
 Howe had with him but little more than -twelve thousand fighting 
 men. 
 
 He was ardently desirous, however, of giving battle. Hoping that 
 the late reenforcement would animate his adversary with the same 
 desire, he marched on the fourth of December towards the enemy, 
 fully determined to make another trial of the fortune of arms. He 
 took post on Chestnut Hill, in front of the enemy's right, at only three 
 miles' distance. Some skirmishes happened, in which the royalists 
 generally had the advantage. But Howe, finding that the right of 
 the enemy afforded no opening for an attack, changed his ground 
 before day on the seventh, and tow a new position opposite to their 
 centre and left, not more than a mile from their lines. He continued 
 to extend upon The enemy's left, as if his intention was to turn it, and 
 attack in the rear. Washington did not shun the battle, but chose to 
 receive it in his lines. According to his invariable plan, he thought, 
 first of all, of the preservation of the army, on which depended the 
 fate of all America. At length, the British general, finding that 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAI!. 75 
 
 nothing could provoke or entice him into the field, and that his camp 
 was in every part inaccessible, after a variety of fruitless manoeuvres, 
 returned to Philadelphia. The British awiiy suffered greatly in these 
 inarches and counter marches, from the severity of the weather, both 
 officers and soldiers being totally destitute of tents and field equipage; 
 this, added to the fatigues of war, had reduced them to a deplorable 
 condition. Upon this account, and considering the steadiness of the 
 enemy in declining to fight without every probability of success, gene- 
 ral Howe determined to place his troops in winter quarters sit Phila- 
 delphia ; having first, however, sent out a strong detachment of 
 cavalry, under lord Cornwallis, to make a general forage on the west- 
 ern side of the Schuylkill. Washington, in like manner, resolved to 
 give his troops winter lodgings ; but he was undecided where to 
 choose them. He was not willing to leave the country exposed to 
 the depredations of the enemy, and yet he wished to avoid extending 
 his quarters too much, lest they should be forced at different points 
 by sudden attacks. 
 
 On the west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Phila- 
 delphia, is a deep and rugged hollow, called Valley Forge. Upon 
 the mountainous flanks of this valley, and upon a vast plain which 
 overlooks it, as well as all the adjacent country, Washington finally 
 concluded to establish his army for the winter. 
 
 His soldiers were too ill clothed to admit of their being exposed 
 to the inclemency of that season under mere tents ; it was therefore 
 decided that a sufficient number of huts should be erected, to be 
 made of logs and filled in with mortar, in which they would find a 
 more effectual shelter. The whole army began its march towards 
 Valley Forge ; some soldiers were seen to drop dead with cold ; 
 others, without shoes, had their feet cut by the ice, and left their 
 tracks in blood. After the most painful efforts, the troops at length 
 reached their destined quarters. They immediately set about con- 
 structing their habitations, which they erected upon the plan of a 
 regular city. All was movement ; some cut down trees, others 
 fashioned them ; in a short time all the barracks were completed, 
 and the soldiers comfortably lodged. After a severe and sanguinary 
 campaign of four months, the two armies appeared thus to enjoy some 
 repose, sufficiently protected from the rigors of the season. The 
 British general had derived no other fruit from all his victories, and 
 from all his manoeuvres, than simply that of having procured excellent 
 winter quarters for his army. 
 
 1778. In this alternation of good and ill success, passed the year 
 1777 for the two belligerent parties in America. If' the Americans, 
 in the war of Canada and upon the banks of the Hudson, gave bril- 
 liant proofs of no common valor ; if, in their campaign of Pennsylvania, 
 they bore their reverses with an heroic firmness, they exhibited in 
 their quarters of Valley Forge such examples of constancy and resig- 
 
76 THE AMERICAN WAIl. BOOK VIII. 
 
 nation, as we should not dare to pronounce ever to have been equal- 
 led by other nations, in any age or any country. They had not only 
 to endure the extreme inclemency of the season, but the most dis- 
 tressing destitution of things the most necessary to life. These suf- 
 ferings of the army originated from several causes, such as the pres- 
 sure of circumstances, the avarice of the contractors or purchasing 
 commissaries, the adverse dispositions of the inhabitants, and, finally, 
 the little experience of Congress itself in affairs relating to public 
 administration, especially in the military department. 
 
 Scarcely were the troops established in their encampment of Val- 
 ley Forge, when Howe, having sent a strong detachment to forage in 
 the islands of the Delaware, and the country about Derby, Washing- 
 ton, in order to oppose it, was inclined to march a considerable part 
 of his army towards that point. But on viewing the state of the 
 magazines, it was discovered, with surprise and alarm, that they con- 
 tained no more than one day's provision. 
 
 In such pressing danger of a total famine, and the entire dissolution 
 of the army, it became necessary not only to relinquish the design of 
 marching against the English, but instantly to detach parties different 
 ways to seize, as in an enemy's country, the provision requisite to 
 satisfy the present wants of the army. Washington was authorised to 
 take this measure by the urgency of the conjuncture, and by the decree 
 of Congress, which conferred upon him dictatorial powers. The 
 foragers executed their commissions, and by incredible exertions, and 
 not without exciting the greatest discontent among the country people, 
 victualled the camp for a few days ; but soon the same distress was 
 felt anew, and the same resource could not the second time afford 
 relief. Whatever efforts were made, little could be gleaned, as well 
 because the adjacent country was already nearly exhausted, as be- 
 cause the inhabitants were careful to conceal in the woods and 
 swamps, their cattle, and other articles, liable to be taken for the use 
 of the army ; they acted thus, either from contrariety of opinion, or 
 from love of gain. They preferred to encounter all the perils of car- 
 rying their supplies to Philadelphia, where they were paid for diem 
 in ready money, to reserving them for the use of their own soldiers, 
 because, in the latter case, they only received certificates to be dis- 
 charged at some future time. They much doubted whether they 
 would ever be liquidated, so great was their want of confidence in the 
 stability of the government, and they were not ignorant that some of 
 these bills had been refused payment \vhen fully due. 
 
 The commander-in-chief had not neglected to write, in the most 
 pressing terms, to the governors of New England, requesting them 
 to send forward subsistence for the army with all possible expedition, 
 and especially supplies of cattle, which abound in those provinces. 
 The purchasing commissaries had repaired thither, and contracted, 
 particularly in Connecticut, for immense quantities of provisions, well 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 77 
 
 knowing the impossibility of subsisting an army, for any length of 
 time, by compulsory requisitions. But these means were slow in 
 operating the desired relief; and a false measure of Congress had 
 nearly frustrated the effect which was expected from the contracts. 
 The victories of Howe, and the gloomy aspect of affairs in Pennsyl- 
 vania, and perhaps more than all, the enormous issues of bills of 
 credit, which the Congress, controlled by a fatal necessity, were 
 continually making, had occasioned these bills to fall at that epoch to 
 one fourth of their nominal value, so that one hundred dollars in 
 paper would command no more than twenty-five dollars in specie. 
 The price of articles of the first necessity had advanced nearly in 
 proportion, and the commissaries, in order to conclude their bargains, 
 had been obliged to conform to the current rates. The Congress 
 disapproved of their doings, attributing to the avarice of the citizens 
 what was really the effect of the public distress. Accordingly, they 
 either annulled the contracts or postponed the execution of them. 
 Not satisfied with this, they passed a resolution which could not appear 
 to have been dictated by an indispensable necessity, since, from its 
 very nature, it could never bo carried into effect. They invited the 
 different states of the Union to determine, and establish by express 
 laws, not only the price of labor, but also that of all articles of com- 
 mon use in human life. The several states complied with the recom- 
 mendation of Congress, and appraised things by law. The result 
 was, that the citizens secreted their effects, and buyers could find 
 nothing they wanted, either in the public markets or elsewhere. 
 
 Famine began to prevail in the camp of Valley Forge ; already 
 the most alarming consequences were apprehended. Notwithstand- . 
 ins; their admirable patience, the soldiers murmured, and a mutiny 
 appeared inevitable. The Congress, at length constrained by the 
 force of things, retraced their steps, and recommended to the several 
 state legislatures the repeal of all laws on the subject of prices. 
 
 The contracts of the purchasing commissaries were allowed to 
 take effect. But the difficulty of procuring a sufficient number of 
 wheel carriages still delayed the arrival of the convoys. Washington, 
 to prevent the total dissolution of his army, ordered a general forage 
 in the neighborhood of the camp, under the direction of general 
 Greene. Captains Lee and Mac Lane, officers no less sagacious 
 than active, were charged with a similar commission in the stntfs 
 of Maryland and Delaware ; and colonel Tilghman in New Jersey. 
 Each of these executed the orders of the cornmander-in-chief with 
 equal zeal and effect ; they penetrated into the most retired places 
 of concealment, where they found grain and cattle in abundance. 
 Captains Mac Lane and Lee, in particular, discovered large dro* s 
 in the marshy meadows on the Delaware, ready to be expedited ior 
 Philadelphia, which they soon caused to take the direction of Valley 
 Forge. Thus the camp found itself again victualled for the present. 
 
 VOL. II. 11 
 
78 THE AMEP.ICAN WAR. BOOK VIII, 
 
 It may perhaps appear unaccountable, that the American government 
 should not seasonably have employed those means which might have 
 prevented so urgent a peril. It is, however, certain, that soon after 
 the commencement of hostilities, the Congress had appointed colonel 
 Truinbull, a man of excellent abilities, and a zealous patriot, to 
 superintend the purchasing of necessaries for the troops. But from 
 his want of experience, and perhaps of sufficient support on the part 
 of the government, as yet not well consolidated, it had resulted, 
 that the army was often on the point of suffering from the deficiency 
 of supplies; hence the plans of the coitfmander- in-chief were fre- 
 quently frustrated, and the movements of his army embarrassed, to 
 the loss of many fair opportunities for the most important strokes. 
 
 When afterwards, about the middle of the year 1777, the depart- 
 ment of colonel Truinbull began to be administered with more regu- 
 larity, the Congress, believing that the more officers of supply they 
 had under their control, the better the troops would be served, created 
 two commissaries-general, the one of purchases and the other of issues. 
 They determined that each of these commissaries-general should 
 have four deputies, to be appointed by Congress, not removable by 
 the head of the department, arid accountable to themselves only. 
 
 They afterwards resolved that the quarter-master-general's depart- 
 ment should be executed on the following plan ; 
 
 'First, the military line, to be styled the quarter-master-general's, 
 is to include the regulating of marches, encampments and order of 
 battle. Second, the commissary of forage. Third, the commissary 
 of horses and wagons. Fourth, the agent for the purchase of tents, 
 intrenching tools, building of barracks, and for all the smaller supplies 
 of the department.' Colonel Truinbull, dissatisfied with this multi- 
 plicity of departments, and still more with this independence of the 
 deputies with respect to the head of the department, requested the 
 Congress to appoint him a successor. The Congress persisted in 
 their plan. The old order of things being thus annihilated, and the 
 new not yet organised, there followed those serious inconveniences 
 which we have mentioned above. 
 
 Congress at length perceived the inevitable preponderancy in limes 
 of war, and especially, in new states, of military men and affairs 
 over civil; they saw there was no possibility of inducing the generals, 
 who all disapproved it, to execute their plan for the administration of 
 the army. It was accordingly abandoned, and general Greene, who 
 enjoyed the entire confidence of the command er-in-chfef, was 
 appointed quarter-master-general, and a very suitable person named 
 Wadsworth, commissary-general of purchases ; both having power 
 to appoint and -remove their assistants. But these measures were 
 not adopted till very late ; and before the salutary effects of the new 
 system could be felt, the army was a prey to such mischiefs and 
 miseries, as brought the republic to the very brink of destruction. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 79 
 
 The distresses of the troops were far from being confined to dearth 
 of sustenance ; the greatest scarcity, or rather a total want of all 
 other necessaries, was also experienced in the camp. It was utterly 
 unprovided even of clothing, an article so essential to the health, as 
 well as to the spirits of the soldiers; tattered and half naked, they 
 would sooner have been taken for so many mendicants, than defend- 
 ers of a generous country. 
 
 Some few had one shirt, but many only the moiety of one, and 
 the greater part none at all. Many, for want of shoes, walked hare- 
 foot on the frozen ground. Few, if any, had blankets for the night. 
 Great numbers sickened ; others, unfitted for service by the cold and 
 their nakedness, were excused by their officers from all military duty, 
 and either remained in their barracks, or were lodged in the houses 
 of the neighboring farmers. Near three thousand men were thus 
 rendered incapable of bearing arms. Congress had neglected no 
 care to provide a remedy for so alarming an evil. They had author- 
 ised the commander-in-chief, as we have already said,Hb seize, 
 wherever he might be, and from any person whatever, all articles of 
 necessity for the army ; and nothing could be more essential than to 
 clothe it. But Washington felt great repugnance to using this power y 
 as, on the one hand, it exasperated the citizens, and, on the other, it 
 accustomed the soldiers to lay hands on the property of others. The 
 Congress considered these scruples unseasonable ; they recommended 
 to the legislatures of each state to enact laws, appointing suitable 
 persons to seize and take for the use of the army, all articles proper 
 for the clothing of soldiers, on condition, however, of paying the pro- 
 prietors for the articles so taken, at a rate to be fixed by the conven- 
 tion of the committees appointed for this purpose by the several 
 states. 
 
 They also created a commissary-general of clothing for the troops, 
 to be assisted by a deputy commissary in each state, as well for the 
 purpose of superintending the compulsory requisitions, as in order, if 
 practicable, to procure all that, was necessary by way of contracts. 
 But these measures were slow in producing the desired effect. Many 
 detested the thought of wresting from their fellow-citizens what they 
 would not sell voluntarily. There prevailed, besides, at this time, in- 
 all the states, a scarcity of cloths, linens, leather, and generally of 
 all the articles that were most wanted. Nevertheless, the deputy 
 commissary of the clothing department in Massachusetts, had succeed- 
 ed in concluding contracts with several merchants for large quantities 
 of merchandise, at the rate of ten to eighteen per cent, above the 
 current price. Their terms appeared exorbitant to some, and even 
 to the Congress, and much was said about the avarice of the mer- 
 chants. It was however just to consider, that the bills they received 
 in payment were already fallen to one fourth of their nominal vnlue; 
 that the merchandise in question was extremely scarce in the country ; 
 
80 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 that the price of labor was greatly advanced, and that it was become 
 extremely difficult to make remittance to foreign countries. Whether 
 it was that these murmurs had piqued the merchants, or that cupidity 
 bad really more power over them than the promises of the govern- 
 ment, several of those who had entered into contracts refused to 
 furnish, unless they were paid in advance. The Congress, being 
 informed of this determination, addressed a letter to the state govern- 
 mentj^reqtiestina; that the goods should be seized from such as refus- 
 ed to fulfil their contracts, at prices to be fixed by commissioners 
 appointed for that purpose under the state authority. These resolu- 
 tions of Congress, and the letters written to the states by Washington, 
 urging them in the most earnest language to come to the succour of 
 his suffering army, at length produced all the effect that was desired ; 
 yet not so promptly, however, but that the greater part of the winter 
 was already elapsed when the first convoys of clothing arrived at 
 the camp. 
 
 To all the miseries of the army already enumerated, must still be 
 added the want of straw. The soldiers, overwhelmed with lassitude, 
 enfeebled by hunger, and benumbed with cold in their service by 
 day and by night, had no other bed in their huts except the bare 
 and humid ground. This cause, joined to the others that have been 
 related, propagated diseases ; the hospitals were as rapidly reple- 
 nished as death evacuated them ; their administration was no less 
 defective in its organisation than that of the camp. The unsuitable- 
 ness of the buildings in which they had been established, the exces- 
 sive penury of every kind of furniture, and the multitude of sick that 
 crowded them, had generated an insupportable fetor. The hospital 
 fever broke out in them, and daily swept off the most robust as well 
 as the feeble. It was not possible to remedy it by often changing 
 the linen, for of this they were utterly unprovided ; nor by a more 
 salubrious diet, when the coarsest was scarcely attainable ; nor even 
 by medicines, which were either absolutely wanting, or of the worst 
 quality, and adulterated through the cupidity of the contractors ; for 
 such, in general, has been the nature of these furnishers of armies, 
 that they should rather be denominated the artisans of scarcity ; they 
 have always preferred money to the life of the soldier. Hence it 
 was, that the American hospital resembled more a receptacle for the 
 dying than a refuge for the sick ; far from restoring health to the 
 diseased, it more often proved mortal to the well. This pestilential 
 den was the terror of the army. The soldiers preferred perishing 
 with cold in the open air, to being buried alive in the midst of the 
 dead. Whether it was the effect of inevitable necessity, or of the 
 avarice of men, it is but too certain, that an untimely death carried 
 off a multitude of brave soldiers, who, with better attentions, might 
 have been preserved, for the defence of their country in its distress. 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. bl 
 
 All these disorders, so pernicious to the republic, took their origin 
 in the causes we have related, and partly also in the military organ- 
 isation itself. The chiefs appeared to acknowledge no system, and 
 the subalterns no restraint of obedience. Horses were allowed to 
 perish in the highways, or to escape into the fields, without search. 
 The roads were incurnbered with carts belonging to the army, and 
 unfit for service. Hence it happened, that when the incredible 
 exertions of the government and of good citizens had succeeded in 
 collecting provisions for the army, they could not be conveyed to the 
 camp, and, by long delays, they were again dispersed, or wasted. 
 This defect of carriages was equally prejudicial to the transportation 
 of arms and military stores, which were, in consequence, abandoned 
 to the discretion of those who either plundered them, or suffered 
 them to be plundered. An incalculable quantity of public effects 
 was thus dissipated or destroyed. In the camp of Valley Forgo, 
 men were constrained to perform, as they really did, with incon- 
 ceivable patience, the service of beasts of draught, as well in procur- 
 ing firewood as in drawing the artillery. And certainly, nothing 
 could be imagined to^qual the sufferings which the American army 
 had to undergo in the course of this winter, except the almost super- 
 human firmness with which they bore them. Not but that a certain 
 number, seduced by the royalists, deserted their colors, and slunk 
 off to the British army in Philadelphia ; but these were mostly 
 Europeans, who had entered the continental service. The trueborn 
 Americans, supported by their patriotism, as by their love and vene- 
 ration for the commander-in-chief, manifested an unshaken perseve- 
 rance ; they chose rather to suffer all the extremes of famine and of 
 frost, than to violate, in this perilous hour, the faith they had pledged 
 to their country. They were encouraged, it it true, by the example 
 of their generals, who, with an air of serenity, took part in all their 
 fatigues, and shared in all their privations. But can it be dissembled, 
 that if general Howe had seen fit to seize the opportunity, and had 
 suddenly attacked the camp at Valley Forge, he would inevitably 
 have gained a complete victory ? Without military stores and with- 
 out provisions, how could the Americans have defended dietfr in- 
 trenchments ? Besides, to enter the field anew, in the midst of so 
 rigorous a season, was become for them an absolute impossibility. 
 On the first of February, four thousand of their men were incapable 
 of any kind of service, for want of clothing. The condition of the 
 rest was very little better. In a word, out of the seventeen thousand 
 men that were in camp, it would have been difficult to muster five 
 thousand fit for service. 
 
 We pretend not to decide what were the motives cf the British 
 general for not taking advantage of a conjuncture so favorable. It 
 appears to us, at least, that the extreme regard he had to the preser- 
 vation of his troops, did but lead him on this occasion to reserve 
 
THE AMERICA^ WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 them for greater perils ; and his circumspection rather deserves the 
 appellation of timidity than of prudence. 
 
 Washington was filled with anguish at the calamities of his army. 
 But nothing gave him more pain than to see his soldiers exposed to 
 the most pernicious example ; the officers openly declared the 
 design of resigning their commissions ; many of them had already 
 left the army, and returned to their families. This determination 
 was principally owing to the depreciation of paper money ; it was 
 become so considerable, and the price of all articles of consumption, 
 as well for this reason as from the difficulties of commerce, was so 
 prodigiously advanced that the officers, far 'from being able to live as 
 it become their rank, had not even the means of providing for their 
 subsistence. Some had already exhausted their private resources 
 to maintain a decent appearance, and others, destitute of patrimonial 
 fortune, had been forced to contract debts, or restrict themselves to 
 a parsimony little worthy of the rank with which they were invented. 
 Hence a disinclination for the service became almost universal. Nor 
 should it be supposed that only the less deserving or worthless 
 desired to resign ; for the regiments being incomplete, and the num- 
 ber of officers too great, their retreat would not have been an evil ; 
 but it was especially the bravest, the mpst distinguished, the most 
 spirited, who, disdaining more than others the state of degradation 
 to which they were reduced, were fully resolved to quit the army, in 
 order to escape from it. Alarmed at the progress of the evil, Wash- 
 ington endeavored to resist it by the use of those remedies which he 
 believed the most suitable ; he spared neither promises nor encour- 
 agements ; he wrote the most pressing letters to the Congress that 
 they might seriously consider the subject, arid take the proper mea- 
 sures thereon. He exhorted them especially, to secure half pay to 
 the officers after the war, either for life or for a definite term. He 
 observed that it was easy to talk of patriotism, and to cite a few 
 examples from ancient history of great enterprises carried by this 
 alone to a successful conclusion ; but that those who relied solely 
 upon individual sacrifices for the support of a long and sanguinary 
 war, ffmst not expect to enjoy their illusion long ; that it was neces- 
 sary to take the passions of men as they are, and not as it might 
 be wished to find them ; that the love of country had indeed operated 
 great things in the commencement of the present revolution ; but 
 that to continue and complete it, required also the ince/itive of inter- 
 est and the hope of reward. The Congress manifested at first very 
 little inclination to adopt the propositions of the commander-in-chief, 
 either because they deemed them too extraordinary or from reluc- 
 tance to load the state with so heavy a burden ; or, finally, because 
 they thought the grants of lands to the officers and soldiers, of which 
 we have made mention in its place, ought to satisfy the wishes of 
 men possessed of any moderation. But at length, submitting to 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 83 
 
 necessity, they decreed an allowance of half pay for life to the 
 officers of the army, with the reservation, however, to the govern- 
 ment of the power to commute it, if deemed expedient, for the sum 
 of six years' half pay. A short time after they passed another 
 resolution, which restricted the allowance of half pay to seven years, 
 dating from the end of the war. These measures, though salutary, 
 were not taken till too late, and, moreover, were not sufficiently 
 spontaneous on the part of the government. Already more th'an two 
 hundred officers of real merit had given up their commissions ; and 
 it was again exemplified on this occasion, that a benefit -long delayed 
 loses much of its value. Nor should the Congress have forgotten, 
 that the founders of a new state control not, but are controlled by, 
 soldiers ; and that since their support is so indispensable, and it is 
 impossible to resist them, the wis.er course is to content them. 
 
 In the midst of his anxieties, created by the causes we have men- 
 tioned, Washington had the additional chagrin of finding that certain 
 intrigues were in agitation against himself. The impatient, who 
 would have events to succeed each other with the same rapidity as 
 their own desires, an^fehe ambitious, who, to raise themselves, are 
 always ready to imp^B to others the strokes of fortune, or the effects 
 of necessity, gave out on all occasions, and even published in the 
 gazettes, that the reverses of the two preceding years, in New Jersey 
 and in Pennsylvania, were more owing to the incapacity of the com- 
 mander-in-chief than to any other cause. They enlarged upon the 
 victories of Gates, whom they placed far above Washington, and 
 were continually extolling the heroic valor of the Americans, which 
 rendered them capable of the most splendid achievements, when 
 they were led to battle by an able commander. Nor was it merely 
 among private persons that these slanders were circulated ; discon- 
 tent caused them to be repeated by men in office, gave them admit- 
 tance into several of the state legislatures, into the midst of the 
 army, and finally, even into the Congress itself. It appeared, tMt 
 the object of these machinations was to give Washington so many 
 disgusts that he should of himself retire from the head of the army, 
 and thus make room for the immediate promotion of Gates to that 
 exalted station. Whether this general himself had any hand in the 
 intrigue, is a matter of uncertainty. If the rectitude and acknow- 
 ledged generosity of his character Jje considered, it will appear more 
 probable that he had not. But ambition is a passion of inconceiva- 
 ble subtilty, which insinuates itself under the appearances of virtue, 
 and too often corrupts and sullies the most ingenuous minds. It is 
 certain that Gates was not ignorant of the object of the combination, 
 and that he threw no difficulties in the way. Perhaps he enter- 
 tained the opinion, and the authors of these machinations with him, 
 that Washington was not able to sustain so great a weight, and 
 intended, by giving him a successor, to save the country. As for us. 
 
84 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 that respect for truth which ought to be our only guide, compels us 
 to declare that the leaders of this combination, very little concerned 
 for the public good, were immoderately so for their own, and that 
 the aim of all their efforts was, to advance themselves and their 
 friends at the expense of others. Among them, and of the first 
 rank, was general Conway, one of the most wily and restless intri- 
 guers, that passed in those times from Europe into America. De- 
 claiming and vociferating, incessantly besieging all the members of 
 Cqngress with his complaints, he pretended that there existed no 
 sort of discipline in the American army, that there was no two regi- 
 ments which manoeuvred alike, and not two officers in any regiment 
 who could execute or command the military exercises ; in a word, 
 he had said and done so much, that the Congress appointed him 
 inspector and major-general. This appointment excited loud mur- 
 murs in the camp, and the brigadier-generals remonstrated. But 
 this man, bent on attaining his purposes, and whose audacity knew 
 no bounds, openly spake of the commander-in-chief in the most 
 derogatory terms ; and, as it always happens in times of adversity, 
 he readily found those who believed him. Jfe 
 
 The assembly of Pennsylvania was the nrstto break the ice ; on 
 the report that Washington was moving into winter quarters, they 
 addressed a remonstrance to Congress, severely censuring this mea- 
 sure of the commander-in-chief, and expressing in very plain words, 
 their dissatisfaction at the mode in which he had conducted the war. 
 The Pennsylvanians were excessively chagrined at the loss of their 
 capital, forgetful of their own backwardness in strengthening the 
 army which had twice fought superior numbers in their defence. It 
 was, moreover, believed, at the time, that the members of Congress 
 from Massachusetts, and particularly Samuel Adams, had never been 
 able to brook that the supreme command of all the armies should 
 have been conferred upon a Virginian, to the exclusion of the gene- 
 rals of their province, who then enjoyed a reputation not inferior, and 
 perhaps superior to that of Washington. It appeared also that these 
 delegates, being the most zealous partisans of the revolution, were 
 far from approving the moderation of the commander-in-chief. They 
 would have preferred placing at the head of affairs a more ardent and 
 decided republican ; and it is asserted that they were on the point of 
 demanding an inquiry into the causes of the unsuccessful issue of the 
 campaigns of the years 1776 and 1777. 
 
 This had not effect. But a board of war was created, under the 
 direction of generals Gates and Mifflin, both of whom, if they were 
 not, were thought to be, among the authors of these machinations 
 against Washington. Anonymous letters were circulated, in which 
 he was cruelly lacerated ; they made him responsible as well for the 
 disastrous campaigns of Jersey and Pennsylvania, as for the deplora- 
 ble condition to which the troops were reduced in their winter quar- 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 85 
 
 ters. One of these letters was addressed to Laurens, the president 
 of Congress ; it was filled with heavy accusations against the com- 
 mander-in-chief. Another, similar, was sent to Henry, the governor 
 of Virginia; both transmitted them to Washington. Supported hy 
 that elevated spirit, and by that firmness which no reverses of fortune 
 could abate, the serenity he enjoyed was not even for a moment inter- 
 rupted. He received with the same temper another determination 
 of Congress, matured in concert with the new board of war, perhaps 
 to let it be seen that they knew how to act by themselves, or because 
 they had really withdrawn from the commander-in-chief a great part 
 of the confidence they had placed in him in times past. They had 
 projected a new expedition against Canada. It was proposed to place 
 at the head of this enterprise the marquis de la Fayette, whose qua- 
 lifications, as a Frenchman of illustrious rank, promised peculiar 
 advantages for the conquest of a province recently French. But, 
 perhaps also, the authors of this scheme had it principally in view, in 
 separating La Fayette from Washington, to deprive the commander- 
 in-chief of the defence he found in so faithful a friend. HH was to 
 have been accompanied by the same Conway mentioned above, and 
 by general Starke. Washington, without having been at all consulted 
 upon this expedition, and even without its being communicated to him, 
 received orders to put Hazen's regiment of Canadians on the march 
 for Albany. He obeyed without delay. The marquis, on his arri- 
 val at Albany, found nothing prepared for the expedition ; neither 
 men, nor arms, nor munitions. He complained of it to Congress ; 
 the enterprise was relinquished. Washington was authorised to recall 
 the young Frenchman to his camp ; as to Conway, he was not invited 
 thither. Soon after, having made himself the object of general ani- 
 madversion by the arrogance of his manners, and his intrigues against 
 Washington, he requested and obtained leave to resign. He was 
 succeeded in the office of inspector-general by the baron Steuben, a 
 Prussian officer of distinguished reputation, who, perfectly versed in 
 the tactics of Frederick If. undertook to teach them to the soldiers 
 of Congress. By his exertions the Americans learned to manoeuvre 
 with uniformity, and their discipline was essentially improved, 
 
 It would be impossible to express with what indignation the whole 
 army and the best citizens were filled, on hearing of the machinations 
 that were in agitation against the illustrious chief, who possessed their 
 entire affection. An universal outcry arose against the intriguers. Con- 
 way no longer durst show himself among the soldiers, who threatened 
 to wreak their vengeance upon him. He repaired to York, in Penn- 
 sylvania, where at that time the Congress resided. As to Samuel 
 Adams, hurried away by the enthusiasm of his patriotic sentiments, 
 he had probably acted from no other motive but the good of the 
 state ; even he thought it prudent, however, to keep aloof from the 
 officers and soldiers, under the apprehension of injury from the effects 
 
 VOL. II. 12 
 
86 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII 
 
 of their fury. If the Congress, yielding to the artifices and impor- 
 tunities of the enemies of Washington, had been induced to take the 
 resolutions we have related, they were nevertheless not ignorant how 
 dangerous, in affairs of state, are changes made without due reflection. 
 They were perfectly aware that France, whose intervention they 
 hoped soon to obtain, would never repose in a man, English born, as 
 was Gates, the unbounded confidence she had already placed in the 
 American chief. They could not but perceive that, though there 
 might be a warrior possessed of talents equal to those of Washington, 
 there was none who could rival him in fidelity, in rectitude, in good- 
 ness, and still less in the esteem of the people, and the affection of 
 the soldiers. Upon these considerations, the Congress maintained a 
 firm stand against all intrigues, and manifested no appearance of a 
 disposition to take the supreme command from one who had approv- 
 ed himself so worthy to hold it. Washington was fully apprised of 
 the artifices that were employed to diminish his well earned reputa- 
 tion ; far from allowing them to intimidate him, he did not even 
 appear to notice them. He indulged none of that secret discontent 
 which men of weak minds, or whose hearts are devoured by ambi- 
 tion, are too apt, in similar circumstances to cherish against their 
 country ; his zeal for his duty never experienced the smallest remission, 
 This conjuncture certainly enabled him to exhibit his moderation and 
 his constancy in all their splendor ; it proved that he could vanquish 
 himself. He was in the midst of an army dejected by repeated 
 defeats, destitute of every accommodation, and reduced to the verge 
 of famine. Gates, at the same time, shone with all the lustre of recent 
 victory, and all the renown of his ancient exploits. As to Washing- 
 ton, lacerated by the public prints, denounced in anonymous letters, 
 publicly accused by the representation of different provinces, even 
 the Congress semed ready to abandon him to the fury of his enemies. 
 In the midst of a storm so formidable, he maintained entire, not only 
 the stability, but even the calmness of his mind ; all devotion to his 
 country, he seemed to have forgotten himself. The twenty-third of 1 
 January he wrote from Valley Forge, that neither interest nor ambi- 
 tion had engaged him in the public service ; that he had accepted, 
 and not solicited, the command ; that he had not undertaken it with- 
 out that distrust of himself, felt by every man not destitute of all 
 knowledge, from the apprehension of not being able to perform 
 worthily the part assigned him ; that, as far as his abilities had per- 
 mitted, he had fulfilled his duty, aiming as invariably at the object 
 proposed, as the magnetic needle points at the pole ; that as soon as 
 the nation should no longer desire his services, or another should be 
 found more capable than himself, of satisfying its expectations, he 
 should quit the helm, and return to a private station, with as mnch 
 pleasure as ever the wearied traveller retired to rest ; that he wished 
 from the bottom of his heart, his successor might experience more 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 87 
 
 propitious gales, and less numerous obstacles ; that if his exertions 
 had not answered the expectations of his fellow-citizens, no one could 
 lament it more sincerely than himself; but that he thought it proper 
 to add, a day would come, when the interests of America would no 
 longer exact of him an impenetrable mystery ; and that until then, he 
 would not be the first to reveal truths which might prejudice his 
 country, whatever wrongs to himself might result from his silence. 
 By the concluding words, he alluded to the insidious proceedings of 
 the ambitious, the shameful malversations of the army contractors* 
 and the peculations or delinquencies of all those by whose fault the 
 army was reduced to such an extremity of distress and calamity. 
 
 May this admirable moderation of Washington teach those in 
 elevated stations, that popular rewards and public favor should never 
 be measured by the standard of self love, and that though the rulers 
 of nations are often ungrateful, men who sincerely love their country, 
 may still find consolations and glory in knowing how to control even 
 a just resentment. 
 
 Washington, in the midst of so trying a crisis, not only always 
 kept the mastery of himself, but he often also consulted the Con- 
 gress upon the military operations he meditated, upon the measures 
 to be taken, in order to fill up the regiments, and, finally, upon all 
 the means of placing the army in a condition to comurence the 
 ensuing campaign with the necessary resources. 
 
 It was known that the British general expected large reenforce- 
 ments from Europe ; Washington was desirous of resuming hostilities 
 early, in order to attack him before they arrived. This plan was of 
 extreme importance ; he was accordingly indefatigable in urging the 
 Congress and the governments of the several states, by frequent 
 letters, that the preparations for the campaign might experience no 
 delay. All would equally have wished to comply with the desires 
 of the commander-in-chief ; but deliberations are taken of necessity 
 but tardily in popular governments. 
 
 What ought to have been ready in the beginning of spring, was 
 but scantily forth coming in the course of all the summer. Even 
 the organisation of the army was not completed until about the last 
 of May. Until then there was observed an extreme disparity, not only 
 between the regiments of different states, but even between those of 
 the same state ; a confusion productive of singular detriment to the 
 service. But by a decree of the 27th of May, the infantry, cavalry, 
 artillery, and engineers, were organised upon an uniform system in 
 all parts of the army. These delays might have proved essentially 
 prejudicial to the American arms, if unforeseen events had not pre- 
 vented the British generals from opening the campaign so soon as 
 they would have desired. They contented themselves with detach- 
 ing their light troops to scour the country in the neighborhood of 
 Philadelphia and the nearer parts of New Jersey, in order to forage 
 
88 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK VIII. 
 
 and secure the roads. These excursions produced nothing remark- 
 able, except it be that an English detachment having surprised, in 
 the month of March, a party of Americans at the bridges of Quinton 
 and Hancock, all the soldiers who composed it were barbarously 
 massacred, while crying for quarter. The English, about the same 
 time, undertook an expedition up the Delaware, in order to destroy 
 the magazines of Bordentown, and to take or burn the vessels which 
 the Americans had withdrawn up the river between Philadelphia 
 and Trenton. In both these enterprises they succeeded to their 
 wishes. They attempted also to surprise the marquis de la Fayette, 
 who was encamped at Baron Hill, on the left bank of the Schuylkill, 
 with a considerable body of troops ; but he baffled their enterprise 
 by his activity and judicious dispositions, although in the commence- 
 ment of the action, general Grant had obtained some advantage over 
 him. 
 
 While these events were passing on land, hostilities were also 
 prosecuted upon sea, where the Americans daily acquired reputation. 
 They manifested so bold and enterprising a spirit in their maritime 
 expeditions, that the British commerce suffered on their part incre- 
 dible losses. Since the commencement of the war in 1776, they 
 had already captured upwards of five hundred English vessels, of 
 different sizes, and all with cargoes of great value. Emboldened by 
 their success, even the coasts of Great Britain were not secure from 
 their insults, where they daily took numerous prizes. The royal 
 navy, however, opposed their enterprises, and took many of their 
 ships in the seas of America and of Europe ; but the advantage, 
 nevertheless, remained very decidedly with the Americans. 
 
 In the meantime, sir Henry Clinton was arrived at Philadelphia, 
 having been appointed commander-in-chief of all the royal forces, ia 
 the place of sir William Howe, who returned to England. Dissatis- 
 fied with the ministers, who had not sent him all the reenforcements he 
 considered necessary to the decision of the war, he had offered his 
 resignation, and the ministers had accepted it with promptitude. 
 They did not forgive him for not having more effectually cooperated 
 with Burgoyne, and for not having displayed all the vigor, in the 
 conduct of the war, which they would have desired. And certainly 
 he rather merits the praise of a prudent than of an adventurous 
 commander. If commendation is due him for the vigor and rare 
 ability he actually displayed in certain expeditions, perhaps he will 
 not escape reprehension for not having undertaken any of greater 
 magnitude and of more importance. In the commencement of the 
 war, when the minds in America were most inflamed, and the English 
 had not yet collected their troops, or received their reenforcements, 
 perhaps this circumspection ancJ this dilatory system of war, was well 
 judged ; for never should all be committed to fortune with only a 
 partial exertion of force ; and the enemy is attacked at the greatest 
 
BOOK VIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 89 
 
 advantage after his ardor has already cooled. But when a great 
 part of the Americans, exhausted by expenses, wearied by a long 
 war and by the scarcity of every thing, were become more disposed 
 to return to their former condition, and when the English had receiv- 
 ed all the reenforcements they could expect, the British general 
 should have placed all his hopes of victory in the rapidity and terror 
 of his arms. This course seems to have been recommended to him 
 by prudence itself, when it is considered, that besides the probability 
 of victory which a regular battle always offered 16 the English, the 
 total defeat of the army of Congress involved, if not infallibly, at 
 least in all likelihood, the absolute submission of America ; while, on 
 the other hand, the rout of the British army would not have rendered 
 the Americans more inflexible than they were, and moreover, would 
 not in the least have changed the dispositions of the French govern- 
 ment, which, since the capitulation of Saratoga, manifestly tended to 
 war. The consequences of a decisive victory were, therefore, more 
 advantageous than those of the most complete discomfiture could 
 have been detrimental. Howe valued himself upon being thought 
 very sparing of the blood of his soldiers, as he could only draw 
 reeaforcements from so great a distance ; and, perhaps, he feared 
 that if he lost a pitched battle, the inhabitants might rise in fury and 
 utterly exterminate the relics of his routed army. But so sanguinary 
 an overthrow was not to be apprehended with such soldiers and with 
 such officers. Besides, in the worst event, he was sure of a retreat 
 on board the fleet, by rallying the troops in a place accessible to it. 
 
 On any hypothesis, things were now got to such a head, that it 
 was essential to strike a decisive blow ; for, upon the continuance of 
 a war in which France was about to take part, the independence of 
 America could scarcely appear doubtful. However the truth was, 
 Howe certainly possessed an elevated and generous mind ; he had 
 also the desire, though rarely the power, to prevent the atrocities 
 perpetrated by his troops ; no curb could restrain the brutal fury of 
 the Germans who followed his standard. Humane towards his 
 soldiers, affable with his officers, a foe to disorder and violence, he 
 was the object of general esteem and affection. 
 
 Before his departure, the officers of the army were disposed to 
 give him a brilliant carousal ; it consisted in jousts and tournaments, 
 marches, . evolutions, triumphal arches and honorary inscriptions. 
 This entertainment, from the variety of ingredients, was called a 
 medley. The evening terminated with a magnificent exhibition of 
 fireworks. Sir William Howe embarked, a few days after, on board 
 the frigate Andromeda. He arrived the second of July at London, 
 where the ministerial party assailed him with torrents of invective, 
 while that in opposition exalted him above the stars. 
 
 END OF BOOK EIGHTH. 
 
90 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 BOOK NINTH. 
 
 1778. ON hearing of the catastrophe which had hefallen Bur- 
 goyne, and of the almost fruitless victories of Howe, the British 
 nation was seized with sullen affliction and discontent. The dejec- 
 tion was as profound as the hopes conceived had been sanguine, and 
 the promises of ministers magnificent. 
 
 The parliament had acquiesced in all their demands, with respect 
 to the prosecution of the war, and they had not failed to transmit to 
 America, with promptitude, whatever was essential to the success of 
 the preceding campaign. The generals invested with command, and 
 the soldiers who had fought under them, were not inferior -in reputa- 
 tion to any that England, or even Europe could produce. Hence it 
 was inferred, that there must exist in the very nature of things, some 
 insurmountable obstacle to victory, and the issue of the war began to 
 be despaired of. For better or stronger armies could not be de- 
 spatched to America, than those which had already been sent ; and if 
 the Americans, in the outset of their revolution, had not only withstood 
 the English troops, but if they had even vanquished and disarmed 
 them, of what might they not be thought capable in future, when, 
 deriving new confidence from their successes, they should have con- 
 solidated their state by practice and experience, and availed them- 
 selves of the time which had been allowed them, to develope still 
 greater forces against their enemies ? Accordingly, so far from there 
 being any prospect of gaining what was not possessed, the danger 
 appeared imminent of loosing what was. Great fears were entertained 
 especially for Canada, where the garrisons were extremely feeble, 
 and the victorious army was upon the frontiers. No little apprehen- 
 sion was also felt, lest, in the heat of parties, some commotion might 
 break out within that province, prejudicial to the interests of the king ; 
 independence being an enticing lure for every people, and especially 
 for distant nations, and the example of the Americans was likely to 
 influence their neighbors. Nor could it be dissembled, besides, that 
 the Canadians, being French, for the most part, their national aver- 
 sion would tend to fortify this natural proclivity, and finally, perhaps, 
 produce some formidable convulsion. The British government beheld 
 with grief, that enlistments became every day more difficult in Ame- 
 rica, where the loyalists appeared intimidated by the recent victories 
 of the republicans ; and even in England, where the spirit of oppo- 
 sition showed itself more powerfully than ever, an extreme repugnance 
 was evidenced to bearing arms in a distant and dangerous war, which 
 many pronounced unjust and cruel, and which, even at that epoch, 
 every thing announced must terminate ingloriously. Nor was the 
 prospect more flattering of obtaining new troops from Germany ; for 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. Ql 
 
 the enormous armies kept on foot by the emperor, and the king of 
 Prussia, exacted such a multitude of recruits, that the agents of Eng- 
 land could not hope to procure them in any considerable number. 
 Moreover, the intervention of France and the commissioners of Con- 
 gress with those sovereigns, or that disposition to favor the American 
 cause, which unequivocally manifested itself in all parts of Europe, 
 had already determined several German princes to refuse a passage 
 through their states to those feeble parties of recruits which, with in- 
 credible pains and expense, were gleaned by the British agents. But 
 there was one consideration which, more than any other, impeded the 
 success of their negotiations ; the moment was manifestly approach- 
 ing when France would declare herself in favor of the Americans, no 
 longer by secret intrigues, or the tacit protection afforded to their 
 privateers, but openly, and with arms in hand. Already all her pre- 
 parations for war, and especially her maritime armaments, were com- 
 pleted. The late victories of the Americans upon the borders of the 
 Hudson, and even the constancy they had exhibited after their re- 
 verses upon the banks of the Delaware, were sufficient pledges that 
 their cause might be espoused without any hazard of finding in them 
 a fickle, a faithless, or a feeble ally. The occasion so long and so 
 ardently desired by the French for humbling the British power and 
 arrogance, was at length offered them by propitious fortune. Their 
 wishes were admirably served by the blind obstinacy of the British 
 ministers and generals, who had judged as erroneously of the nature 
 and importance of things, as of the valor and constancy of the Ame- 
 ricans. It was not at all doubted in England, that France would 
 avail herself of the means which presented themselves to her grasp, 
 to repair her ancient losses. This inevitable crisis took strong hold 
 of the public attention, and all perceived the necessity either of a 
 long, and in no common degree perilous struggle, or of an accom- 
 modation upon little honorable terms, with that^ery people whose 
 petitions had always been rejected, and who had been exasperated by 
 so many outrages, before they were assailed by so cruel a war. 
 Though the ministers and their adherents failed not to advance plau- 
 sible reasons to justify themselves, and to authorise their conduct, yet 
 the general opinion inclined to consider it as the more prudent coun- 
 sel to listen at length to the demands of the Americans, and to adopt 
 the course of procedure repeatedly proposed by the orators of the 
 opposition, who had recommended that hostilities should be suspend- 
 ed, and a negotiation set on foot, which might lead to an admissible 
 adjustment. Heavy complaints were heard on all parts, that so many 
 favorable occasions for reconciliation, had been allowed to escape, as 
 if it was intended to wait the arrival of that fatal moment when it 
 would no longer be possible either to negotiate with honor, or to fight 
 with glory ; and when, instead of any hope of subduing or conciliat- 
 ing America, there was too much reason to fear the loss of other 
 inestimable portions of the British empire. 
 
92 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 All the attempts made previous to that time, for reducing the Ame- 
 ricans to submission by force of arms, having proved completely 
 abortive, it was bitterly regretted that, before undertaking new efforts, 
 the failure of which must secure the triumph of the enemy, there 
 had not been a disposition to listen to the conciliatory propositions 
 submitted to parliament by the Earl of Chatham, in the sitting of the 
 thirtieth of May, of the year last elapsed. Foreseeing the calami- 
 ties which were about to fall upon his country, since the ministers 
 were resolved to prosecute extreme measures, and perceiving dis- 
 tinctly that to "the dangers of an intestine struggle, would soon be 
 added the perils of a foreign war, this illustrious man, though bowed 
 with age, and laboring under a painful malady, had caused himself to 
 be carried to the House of Lords, where, in that strain of admirable 
 eloquence, which always chained attention, he exerted the most 
 magnanimous efforts to appease- animosities, to extinguish the flames 
 of war, to procure the repeal of those disastrous laws which had 
 lighted them, and opposed an insuperable bar to the return of con- 
 cord. 
 
 1 My lords,' he said, c this is a flying moment, perhaps but six weeks' 
 left to arrest the dangers that surround us. The gathering storm may 
 break ; it has already opened, and in part burst. It is difficult for 
 government, after all that has passed, to shake hands with the defiers 
 of the king, defiers of the parliament, defiers of the people. I am 
 a defier of nobody ; but if an end is not put to this war, there is an 
 end to this country. I do not trust my judgment in my present state 
 of health ; this is the judgment of my better days ; the result of forty 
 years attention to America. 
 
 6 They are rebels ; but what are they rebels for ? Surely not for 
 defending their unquestionable rights? What have these rebels done 
 heretofore ? I remember when they raised four regiments on their 
 own bottom, and took Louisburgh from the veteran troops of France. 
 But their excesses have been great. I do not mean their panegyric ; 
 but must observe in attenuation, the erroneous and infatuated coun- 
 sels which have prevailed ; the door to mercy and justice has been 
 shut against them. But they may still be taken up upon the grounds 
 of their former submission. I state to you the importance of Ameri- 
 ca ; it is a double market ; the market of consumption and the market 
 of supply. This double market for millions, with naval stores, you 
 are giving to your hereditary rival. America has carried you through 
 four wars, and will now carry you to your death, if you don't take 
 things in time. In the sportsman's phrase, when you have found 
 yourselves at fault, you must try back. You have ransacked every 
 corner of Lower Saxony; but forty thousand German boors never 
 can subdue ten times the number of British freemen ; they may 
 ravage, they cannot conquer. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 93 
 
 But you would conquer, you say ! Why, what would you conquer ; 
 the map of America ? I am ready to meet any general officer on the 
 subject. What will you do out of the protection of your fleet . ? In 
 the winter, if together, your troops are starved ; and if dispersed, they 
 are taken off in detail. I am experienced in spring hopes and vernal 
 promises ; I know what ministers throw out ; but at last will come 
 your equinoctial disappointment. They tell you what f That your 
 army will be as strong as last year, when it was not strong enough. 
 You have got nothing in America but stations. You have been three 
 years teaching them the art of war ; they are apt scholars ; and I 
 will venture to tell your lordships, that the American gentry will make 
 officers enough, fit to command the troops of all the European 
 powers. What you have sent there, are too many to make peace, 
 too few to make war. If you conquer them, what then ? You can- 
 not make them respect you ; you cannot make them wear your cloth. 
 You will plant an invincible hatred in their breasts against you. You 
 are giving America to France at the expense of twelve millions a 
 year. The intercourse has produced every thing to her ; and Eng- 
 land, old England, must pay for all. Your trade languishes, your 
 taxes increase, your revenues dwindle ; France, at this moment, is 
 securing and drawing to herself that commerce which created your 
 seamen, which fed your islands, which was the principal source of 
 your wealth, prosperity and power. We have tried for unconditional 
 submission ; try what can be gained by unconditional redress. We 
 shall thus evince a conciliatory spirit, and open the way to concord. 
 
 1 The ministers affirm there is no sort of treaty with France. 
 Then, there is still a moment left ; the point of honor is still safe. 
 The instant a treaty appears you must declare war, though you had 
 only five ships of the line in England ; but France will defer a treaty 
 as long as possible, to wait the effect of our selfdestroying counsels. 
 You are now at the mercy of every little German chancery ; and 
 the pretensions of France will increase daily, so as to become an 
 avowed party in either peace or war. The dignity of the govern- 
 ment is objected ; but less dignity will be lost in the repeal of 
 oppressive laws, than in submitting to the demands of German chan- 
 ceries. We are the aggressors. We have invaded the colonists 
 as much as the Spanish armada invaded England. Mercy cannot 
 do harm ; it will seat the king where he ought to be, throned in the 
 hearts of his people ; and millions ?t home and abroad, now employed 
 in obloquy and revolt, would pray for him. The revocation I propose 
 and amnesty, may produce a respectable division in America, and 
 unanimity at home. It will give America an option ; she has yet 
 h^d no option. You have said, " Lay down your arms,-- and she has 
 given you the Spartan answer, " Come, take" ' 
 
 Neither the authority of such a man, nor the force of his speech, 
 nor present evils, nor yet the fear of future, were sufficient to procure 
 
 VOL. II. 13 
 
94 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX, 
 
 the adoption of his proposition. Those who opposed it, contended 
 that it would by no means satisfy the Americans, since from the out- 
 set they had aimed at independency. They talked of the dignity of 
 the realm, of the weakness of France, of the number of loyalists 
 ready to declare themselves, the moment an occasion should offer 
 itself ; they harangued upon the tyranny of Congress, already become 
 insupportable to all the Americans, upon the emptiness of its treasury, 
 and the rapid depreciation of the bills of credit ; finally, they enlarged 
 upon that impatience which was universally manifested for the return 
 of order, and the blessings enjoyed by the rest of the subjects of the 
 British government. 
 
 In the midst of these contradictions had been agitated the question 
 of peace and war, while the veil of uncertainty still shaded the future, 
 and experience had not yet ascertained the effect of all the forces 
 sent into America. But now the trial had been made, and the result 
 being on the one hand so calamitous, and so dubious on the other, 
 the obstinacy of ministers was almost universally condemned, while 
 the wisdom and foresight of the earl of Chatham, were extolled to 
 the skies. That such opinions should have been entertained by those 
 whose interests and passions were so immediately concerned, is cer- 
 tainly no matter of astonishment ; but it may be advanced with 
 confidence, that the measure proposed by this, in other respects, 
 most sagacious statesman, would have resulted in very doubtful con- 
 sequences, to use no stronger words. 
 
 At this time, the Americans had already declared their independ- 
 ence ; what the proposed concessions, seconded by formidable armies, 
 might have operated before this declaration, they could no longer 
 have done after it, especially when by the effect of this very declara- 
 tion, and of the resistance made to the arms of Howe upon the 
 territory of New Jersey, the Americans confidently expected to obtain 
 the succours of France. Besides, if, at this epoch, the issue of a 
 negotiation was uncertain, it would indubitably have reflected little 
 honor upon the 'government, to have condescended to an arrange- 
 ment, without having first made a trial of the efficacy of the armies 
 it had collected and sent to America, with so much effort, and at so 
 heavy an expense. Victory too, as it was reasonable to think, would 
 have produced submission, or at least conditions more favorable to 
 Great Britain. 
 
 The ministers therefore being resolved to continue the war, exerted 
 their utmost diligence to repair those evils which the faults of men, 
 or an inauspicious destiny, had drawn upon the state in the course of 
 the preceding year. Their attention was first directed to the means 
 of raising new troops, and of procuring more abundant pecuniAy 
 resources than had been granted them by the parliament. They 
 reflected, that although there was a powerful party in the kingdom 
 who condemned the American war, still there existed another who 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 95 
 
 approved it highly, either from conviction or from their devotion to 
 the ministry. To this class they addressed themselves, not doubting 
 their readiness to assist them with zeal in procuring the men and the 
 funds they wanted. Dreading, however, the clamors of the opposi- 
 tion, who might represent this levy of soldiers and money, though 
 voluntary, as a violation of the constitution, they carried this scheme 
 into effect in the recess of parliament, which happened at the begin- 
 ning of the current year, and which, with the same object in view, 
 they prolonged beyond the accustomed term. They were the more 
 sanguine in their hopes of success, inasmuch as, since the declaration 
 of independence, and the secret alliance with France, of which 
 every day furnished new evidences, the greater part of those who 
 had shown themselves at first the warmest partisans of the Americans, 
 had now deserted them, and gone over to the ministerial party. The 
 ministers accordingly despatched their agents into the different pro- 
 vinces of the kingdom, and especially those where they had the 
 greatest influence, with instructions to spur the inhabitants to enlist, 
 and to lend their support to the state by vpluntary gifts. These 
 emissaries were to expatiate on the ingratitude of the Americans, 
 the enmity of France, the necessities of the country, the glory and 
 splendor of the English name, which must be transmitted unsullied 
 to posterity. Their exertions were attended with, success in some 
 cities of the first order, and even in some towns of inferior rank ; 
 but none manifested greater zeal than Liverpool and Manchester, 
 each of which raised, at their Own expense, a regiment of a thousand 
 men. The Scotch, naturally a warlike people, and much devoted 
 to the cause of government in the present war, exhibited the utmost 
 ardor to engage in the service. Edinburgh levied a thousand men, 
 Glasgow an equal number. The hi^hlanders, a hardy race, descend- 
 ed in hordes from their craggy hills, to follow the royal standard. 
 Equal promptitude was manifested in contributing to the public 
 expense, and free gifts multiplied every day. The government would 
 have wished that the city of London, on account of its population 
 and wealth, and of its importance as the capital of the kingdom, had 
 placed itself at the head of this contribution. It was hoped that 
 city would raise and maintain at its own expense five thousand men 
 for three years, or until the end of the war. This hope proved illu- 
 sory. The citizens being convened, refused peremptorily. The 
 common council returned an answer equally unfavorable. The 
 partisans of the ministry were not discouraged. They vociferated 
 at every corner that it was a shame for the city of London, that, after 
 having voted, but a few days before, considerable sums for ihe relief 
 ,f .'Vnerirans taken with arms in hand levelled :ig:ii:isi Eiijrlaiid, it 
 should now refuse to give the slightest succour to the country. The 
 friends of the ministry assembled, and subscribed twenty thousand 
 pounds sterling. The same manoeuvres took place at Bristol, and 
 
96 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 with the same success. This city would not furnish troops ; it con- 
 sented only to give the same sum as London. The ministers expe- 
 rienced still more difficulties in the country ; the landholders being 
 grown sulky at the weight of their assessments, and at having been 
 deceived by promises that the American taxes were to be in diminu- 
 tion of their own. Upon the whole, this project of voluntary levies, 
 and gratuitous contributions, though not absolutely fruitless, was still 
 very far from affording the resources which had been counted upon. 
 It however became the subject of violent declamations in parlia- 
 ment ; but with the usual event ; the ministry triumphed. 
 
 While such was the procedure of the English government, in order 
 to sustain the struggle in which it was engaged, the Congress urged 
 with new fervor the negotiations which they had already, a long 
 time back, set on foot with the court of France. The American 
 commissioners had left nothing unessayed that could decide it to 
 declare openly in their favor ; but however pressing were their soli- 
 citations with the French ministers to induce them to take a definitive 
 resolution, they had not as yet obtained any thing but evasive and 
 dilatory answers. In this first period of the American revolution, 
 considering the uncertainty of its issue, France hesitated to espouse 
 the quarrel of a people whose force appeared insufficient to sustain 
 the pressure of so perilous an enterprise. She feared lest the colo- 
 nists might all at once desist, and resume all their ancient relations 
 with England. Those who directed the counsels of France were 
 not ignorant, that at the very moment in which she should declare 
 herself, the British ministry, by acquiescing in the concessions 
 demanded by the Americans, might instantly disarm them, and that 
 France would then find herself alone saddled with a war, without 
 motive, and without object. 
 
 To this consideration was added, that before coming to an open 
 rupture with Great Britain, it was essential to restore order in the 
 finances, and to reestablish the marine, both having suffered exces- 
 sively from the disorder, disasters and prodigality of the preceding 
 reign. The declaration of independence, it is true, had removed 
 the danger of a sudden reconciliation ; but it was still possible to 
 doubt the success of resistance. Nor should we omit to say, that, 
 though France would rather see America independent, than recon- 
 ciled with England, she relished the prospect of a long war between 
 them, still better than independence. Perhaps, even, she would have 
 liked best of all a conquest by dint of arms, and the consequent sub- 
 jugation ; f>>r, upon this hypothesis, the English colonies, ravaged 
 and ruined, would have ceased to enrich the mother country, by the 
 benefits of their commerce in time of peace ; and in time of war, the 
 English would no longer have found in their colonists those power- 
 ful auxiliaries, who so often had succoured them with so much effica- 
 cy. Should the colonies, though vanquished, preserve their ancient 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 97 
 
 prosperity, then England would be constrained to maintain in them 
 a part of her iorce, in order to prevent the revolts she would have 
 continually to dread on the part of a people impressed with the 
 recollection of so many outrages and cruelties. 
 
 But upon the second hypothesis, or that of independence, it was 
 impossible to dissemble that the example would be pernicious for 
 the colonies of the other European powers, and that the smallest of 
 the probable inconveniences, would be the necessity of granting 
 them, to the great prejudice of the mother country, a full and entire 
 liberty of commerce. These considerations, carefully weighed by 
 the French ministers, so wrought, that repressing their ardor for war, 
 they covered their projects with an impenetrable veil, and drew the 
 negotiation into length. They restricted themselves to expressions 
 of benevolence toward the Americans, and to granting them clan- 
 destinely the succours we have spoken of in another place. And 
 even those succours were furnished with more or less mystery, more 
 or less liberality, as fortune showed herself propitious or adverse to 
 the American arms. Such was the rigor with which France adher- 
 ed, or appeared to adhere, to this wary policy, either with a view of 
 not breaking before the lime with England, or in order the more 
 effectually to place the Americans at her discretion, and constrain 
 them to subscribe to all her demands, that when the news arrived at 
 Paris of the capture of Ticonderoga, and of the victorious march of 
 Burgoyne towards Albany, events which seemed to decide in favor 
 of the English, instructions were immediately despatched to Nantz, 
 and the other ports of the kingdom, that no American privateers 
 should be suffered to enter them, except from indispensable neces- 
 sity, as to repair their vessels, to obtain provisions, or to escape the 
 perils of the sea. Thus France, pursuing invariably the route pre- 
 scribed by reason of state, which admirably suited her convenience, 
 on the one hand amused the British ministers with protestations of 
 friendship, and on the other encouraged the Americans with secret 
 succours, by the uncertainty and scantiness of them, inflaming their 
 ardor, and confirming their resolution by continual promises of future 
 cooperation. Unshackled in her movements, she thus pledged her- 
 self to no party, but tranquilly waited to see what course things 
 would take. The agents of Congress did not fail, however, to urge 
 and besiege the cabinet of Versailles to come at length to a final 
 decision. But the French ministers, with many tosses and shrugs, 
 alleged a variety of excuses in support of their system of procrasti- 
 nation, at one time, that the fleet expected from Newfoundland, 
 crowded with excellent seamen, was not yet arrived ; at another, that 
 the galleons of Spain were still at sea, and now some other subter- 
 fuge was invented. Thus alternately advancing and receding, never 
 allowing their intentions to be fathomed, they kept the Americans 
 in continual uncertainty. Finally, the commissioners, out of all 
 
98 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 patience, and determined, if practicable, without waiting longer, to 
 extricate themselves from this labyrinth, imagined an expedient for 
 reducing the French ministers themselves to the necessity of drop- 
 ping the vizor ; this was to suggest, that if France did not assist 
 them immediately, the Americans could defer no longer a voluntary 
 or compulsory arrangement with England. 
 
 To this effect, they waited upon the ministers about the middle of 
 August, 1777, with a memorial in which they represented, that if 
 France supposed that the war could be continued for any considera- 
 ble time longer without her interference she was much mistaken. 
 ' Indeed,' continued the memorial, ' the British government have 
 every thing to lose and nothing to gain, by continuing the war. After 
 the present campaign, they will therefore doubtless make it their 
 great and last effort to recover the dominion of America, and termi- 
 nate the war. They probably hope that a few victories may, by the 
 chance of war, be obtained ; and that these on one hand, and the 
 wants and distresses of the colonists on the other, may induce them 
 to return again to a dependence, more or less limited, on Great 
 Britain. They must be sensible, that if ever America is to be con- 
 quered by them, it must be within the present year ; that if it be 
 impossible to do it in this year of the dispute, it will be madness to 
 expect more success afterwards, when the difficulties of the Ameri- 
 cans' former situation are removed ; when their new independent 
 governments have acquired stability ; and when the people are 
 become, as they soon will be, well armed, disciplined and supplied 
 with all the means of resistance. 
 
 1 The British ministry must therefore be sensible, that a continua- 
 tion of hostilities against the colonies, after this year, can only tend 
 to prolong the danger, or invite an additional war in Europe ; and 
 they therefore doubtless intend, after having tried the success of this 
 campaign, however it may end, to make peace on the best terms 
 which can be obtained. And if they cannot recover the colonies as 
 subjects, to admit their claim of independency, and secure them by 
 a federal alliance. Therefore no means are left for France to pre- 
 vent the colonists from being shortly reconciled to Great Britain, 
 either as subjects or allies, but to enter immediately into such engage- 
 ments with them as will necessarily preclude all others ; such as will 
 permanently bind and secure their commerce and friendship, and 
 enable them as well to repel the attacks, as to spurn at the offers of 
 their present enemy. 
 
 1 France must remember,' it was added, ' that the first resistance 
 of the colonists was not to obtain independency, but a redress of their 
 grievances ; and that there are many among them who might even 
 now be satisfied with a limited subjection to the British crown. A 
 majority has indeed put in for the prize of independency ; they have 
 done it on a confidence that France, attentive to her most important 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 90 
 
 interests, would soon give them open and effectual support. But 
 when they find themselves disappointed ; when they see some of 
 the powers of Europe furnish troops to assist in their subjugation ; 
 another power, alluding to Portugal, proscribing their commerce ; 
 and the rest looking on, as indifferent spectators ; it is very probable 
 that, despairing of foreign aid, and severely pressed by their enemies 
 and their own internal wants and distresses, they may be inclined to 
 accept of such terms as it will be the interest of the British govern-' 
 ment to grant them. Lord George Germain, but a few weeks since, 
 declared in the house of commons that his hope of ending the Ame- 
 rican war this year, was principally founded on the disappointment 
 which the colonists would feel, when they discover that no assistance 
 is likely to be given them from France. The British adherents in 
 America will spare no pains to spread and increase that disappoint- 
 ment, by discouraging representations ; they already intimate that 
 France, equally hostile to both parties, foments the present war, 
 only to make them mutually instrumental in each others destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 1 Should Great Britain, by these and other means, detach the 
 colonies, and reunite them to herself, France will irrecoverably lose 
 the most favorable opportunity ever offered to any nation, of hum- 
 bling a powerful, arrogant, and hereditary enemy. 
 
 * But it is not simply the opportunity of reducing Great Britain, 
 which France will lose by her present inactivity ; for her own safety, 
 and that of all her American possessions, will be endangered the 
 moment in which a reconciliation takes place between Britain and 
 America. The king and ministry of Great Britain know and feel 
 that France has encouraged and assisted the colonists in their pre- 
 sent resistance ; and they are as much incensed against her, as they 
 would be, were she openly to declare war. In truth, France has 
 done too much, unless she intends to do more. 
 
 ' Can any one doubt but that whenever peace with America is 
 obtained by Great Britain, whatever may be the conditions of it, the 
 whole British force now on the continent of America, will be sud- 
 denly transported to the West Indies, and employed in subduing the 
 French sugar islands there, to recompense the losses and expenses 
 which Great Britain has suffered and incurred in this war, and to 
 revenge the insult and injury France has done her, by the encour- 
 agement and assistance which she is supposed to have secretly given 
 the colonists against Great Britain ?' 
 
 Such was the purport of the memorial presented to the French 
 government, in order to terminate its hesitations ; but this also was 
 without success. The ministers were no less ingenious in discover- 
 ing new evasions ; they chose to wait to see the. progress of this war. 
 The news of the taking of Ticonderoga, and the fear of still more 
 decisive operations on the part of general Howe, maintained their 
 
100 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 doubts and indecision. They were loath to have no other part to 
 play than extending the hand to insurgents, when already their 
 wreck appeared inevitable. We venture not to say, that in this 
 occurrence was again verified the vulgar maxim ; the unfortunate 
 have no friends ; but it appeared, at least, that the cabinet of Ver- 
 sailles was determined to procrastinate until the distress of the Ame- 
 ricans was arrived at such a point as to become their only law ; that 
 it might obtain from them the better conditions for France. Besides, 
 as at this time there was much appearance that the British arms 
 would carry all before them, an accommodation between the mother 
 country and the colonies, seemed less probable than ever ; and this 
 was what the French government had feared the most. The minis- 
 ters of England supposing them victorious in America, would have 
 listened to no conditions short of an absolute submission ; and the 
 French appeared to desire this extremity even more than independ- 
 ence, provided only, that it was introduced by a Jong and desolat- 
 ing war. 
 
 Disgusted by so many delays, the American commissioners no 
 longer entertained any doubt as to the secret policy .which guided 
 the French in this conjuncture. In their despair, they had well nigh 
 broken off all negotiation with a government that reputed their mis- 
 fortunes a source of prosperity to itself. Unable, therefore, to 
 accomplish their views with France, and discerning no other pros- 
 pect of safety, the Americans again addressed themselves to Eng- 
 land, proposing to her the recognition of their independence. This 
 point conceded, they would have yielded in all others, to such con- 
 ditions as should most tend to save the honor of the mother country. 
 They represented, that if the British ministry knew how to profit of 
 the occasion, it depended on themselves to stipulate an arrangement 
 so conducive to the prosperity of Great Britain, that she would seek 
 in vain to procure herself similar advantages by any other means. 
 But the British government, elated with the first successes of Bur- 
 goyne, and persuaded that fortune could not escape him, refused to 
 listen to any overtures for accommodation, and rejected the proposi- 
 tion with disdain. The blindness of the British ministers was incur- 
 able ; the Americans, in the midst of the most disastrous reverses, 
 and deprived of all hope of foreign succour, strenuously refusing to 
 renounce their independence, insisting even to make it an indispen- 
 sable condition ofoheir reconciliation, it was manifest that the reunion 
 of the two states was become impossible ; and that since the neces- 
 sity of things and inexorable destiny pronounced that America 
 should no longer be subject, it was better to have her for ally than 
 for an enemy. But the defeat and capture of Burgoyne, by an- 
 nouncing with such energy the rising greatness of America, had 
 given new ardor to the patriots ; new hopes and new fears to the 
 French. Their reciprocal situation become less ambiguous ; each 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 101 
 
 began to manifest more positive resolutions. England herself, if her 
 king and his ministers had yielded less to their individual preposses- 
 sions, would have prudently paused ; and abandoning an enterprise 
 above her strength, would have resorted to the only way of safely 
 that she had left. But pride, obstinacy and intrigue are too often 
 the ruin of states ; and lord Bute was incessantly smoothing that 
 route for king George. After the victory of Saratoga, the Ameri- 
 cans pursued with rare sagacity the policy prescribed by their new 
 circumstances. Their conduct demonstrated as much ability as 
 experience in affairs of state. They reflected, that as their suc- 
 cesses had increased their strength, rendered their alliance more 
 desirable, and banished all doubts from enlightened minds respecting 
 their independence, nothing could be better calculated on their part, 
 than to give jealousy to France, by pretending a disposition to make 
 alliance with England ; and disquietude to England, by the appear- 
 ance of courting the strictest union with France. They hoped by 
 this conduct to arrive at length to something conclusive. Accord- 
 ingly, the same express that carried to England the news of the 
 capitulation of Saratoga, was the bearer of despatches, the drift of 
 which was to insinuate, that the Americans, disgusted by the exces- 
 sive delays of the French, and indignant at not having received in 
 the rnidst of their reverses, avowed and more efficacious succours, 
 were eagerly desirous of an accommodation with England, and to 
 conclude with her a treaty of commerce, provided she acknowledged 
 their independence. In order to give more weight to this sugges- 
 tion, it was added, that the colonists would feel particular gratifica- 
 tion in a reconciliation with their ancient country ; whereas, in the 
 contrary case, they should be compelled to throw themselves into the 
 arms of the inveterate and implacable enemy of the English name. 
 
 General Gates, on whom his recent victory reflected so much 
 lustre, wrote to the same effect, to one of the most distinguished 
 members of parliament. These steps of the chiefs of the American 
 revolution were likewise necessary to satisfy the people, who would 
 not, without extreme repugnance, have seen themselves thrust preci- 
 pitately into the party of France, before having attempted every 
 probable mode of effecting an adjustment with England. The pre- 
 judices they entertained against France were still in all their force ; 
 and the persuasion that this power had speculated upon their misfor- 
 tunes, had greatly exasperated their aversion. These negotiations 
 were no secret to the court of Versailles, as they had been commu- 
 nicated to Franklin, who knew how to make the best use of them ; 
 the umbrage they gave the French ministers will be readily con- 
 ceived. Franklin, about the same time, received instructions to 
 reiterate his expostulations with the government, that it might at 
 length discover itself, since otherwise, it was to be feared that Eng- 
 land, convinced by the catastrophe of Burgoyne, and even by the 
 VOL. ir. 14 
 
102 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 useless victories of Howe, that the reduction of America, by dint of 
 arms, was absolutely impossible, would acknowledge independence. 
 The Americans, he added, finding themselves deserted by the 
 French, will be constrained to listen to the overtures of the English, 
 and to accept of favor wherever they find it ; and such an arrange- 
 ment could not have effect but to the irreparable prejudice of the 
 interests of France. The ministers perceived clearly that the time 
 was come, in which, if they would not lose the fruit of all their 
 policy, it was necessary finally to lay aside the personage of the fox, 
 and to assume the nature of the lion. Judging the British ministers 
 by themselves, they supposed them entirely exempt from all passion, 
 as statesmen ought to be ; consequently, fearing the measures which 
 their wisdom might prescribe, they determined to resume, and bring 
 to a conclusion, the negotiations they had opened already so long 
 since with the Americans, and which they had so shrewdly pro- 
 longed. 
 
 This decision appeared to them the more urgent, as they were not 
 ignorant that the great body of the inhabitants of America, their 
 independence once established, would much more willingly have 
 coalesced with the English, a people of the same blood, of the same 
 language, of the same manners, and still not entirely forgetful of 
 former friendship, than with the French, a nation not only foreign 
 and rival, but reputed faithless ; whose long hesitations had counte- 
 nanced the imputation, and against whom, from their tenderest child- 
 hood, they had fostered the most unfavorable prepossessions. On 
 the other hand, the Americans had supported three entire years of 
 the most trying distress, without having ever discovered the least 
 disposition to relinquish their enterprise, or the least mark of weari- 
 ness in their conflict with adverse fortune. Their moderation had 
 not deserted them in success ; and the perseverance of their efforts 
 had given to the first victories of the English all the consequences 
 of defeats. These considerations had persuaded the ministers of 
 France that America had knowledge, power and will, to keep the 
 faith of treaties. 
 
 The resolution of finally taking an active part in this war, by 
 extending an auxiliary hand to the Americans, could not fail, besides, 
 of being highly agreeable to the greater part of the French nation. 
 The motive of it was not merely to be found in the inveterate hatred 
 borne the English, in the remembrance of recent wounds, in the 
 desire of revenge, and in the political opinions which, at that period, 
 had spread throughout the kingdom, but also in numerous and pow- 
 erful considerations of commercial advantage. The trade which 
 had been carried on between France and America, since the com- 
 mencement of disturbances, and especially since the breaking out of 
 hostilities, had yielded the French merchants immense gains. All 
 of these, therefore, eagerly desired that the new order of things 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 103 
 
 might be perpetuated by independence, in order never to see the 
 times revived, in which the prohibitory laws of parliament, and espe- 
 cially the act of navigation, would have deprived them of these 
 benefits. It is true, however, that they had not found this com- 
 merce so lucrative as they had anticipated ; for several of them, 
 hurried away by the excessive love of gain, and principally those of 
 the maritime cities, had despatched to America ships loaded with 
 valuable merchandise, a great number of which had been taken on 
 the passage by the British cruisers. But even these losses stimulated 
 their desire to be able to continue the same commerce, and to wit- 
 ness the reduction of that British audacity which pretended to reign 
 alone upon an element common to the whole universe. They hoped 
 that the royal navy in open war would afford protection to the ships 
 of commerce ; and that force would thus shield the enterprises of 
 cupidity. The French had, besides, in this conjuncture, the hope, or 
 rather the certainty, that Spain would lake part in the quarrel. This 
 was a consideration of weight, in addition to the motives which 
 always influenced them. That kingdom had a formidable marine, 
 and was animated with so strong; a desire to make trial of it against 
 England, that the French court, rigidly adhering to its plan of cir- 
 cumspection, had hitherto thought it prudent to check rather than 
 stimulate the cabinet of Madrid. It was not in the least doubted, 
 that all the united forces of the House of Bourbon, already so long 
 prepared, and directed towards the same object, were more than 
 sufficient to take down the intolerable arrogance of the English, to 
 protect rich cargoes from their insults, and even to cause the com- 
 merce of the two Indies to pass almost entirely into the hands of the 
 French and Spaniards. 
 
 Thus favored by circumstances, and by the voice of the people, 
 the French government had more need of prudence to restrain it 
 from precipitating its resolutions, than of ardor, to incite it to encoun- 
 ter the hazards of fortune. Never, assuredly, had any government 
 to adopt a counsel more recommended 'jy the unanimous and ardent 
 wishes of its subjects, or which promised a more fortunate issue, or 
 more brilliant advantages. Unable, therefore, to resist longer the 
 pressing solicitations of the agents of Congress, the ministers resolved 
 at length to seize the occasion, and to conclude with America the 
 treaty which had been the object of such long negotiations. But as, 
 heretofore, the intention of France had been to elude any positive 
 engagement, the articles of the convention, though often and delibe- 
 rately discussed, were not yet settled. Under the apprehension, 
 however, that the British government, in case of further delays, miff lit 
 tempt the Americans with conciliatory overtures, the French minis- 
 ters concluded to signify to the commissioners of Congress the pre- 
 liminaries of the treaty of friendship and commerce, to be stipulated 
 between the two states. This communication was made the six- 
 
 t 
 
104 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 teenth of December, 1777, by M. Gerard, royal syndic of the city 
 of Strasbourg, and secretary of the king's council of state. Its pur- 
 port was as follows ; 'That France would not only acknowledge, but 
 support with all her forces the independence of the United States, 
 and would conclude with them a treaty of amity and commerce; 
 that in the stipulations of this treaty she would take no advantage of 
 the present situation of the United States, but that the articles of it 
 should be of the same nature as if the said states had been long 
 established, and were constituted in all the plenitude of their strength ; 
 that his most Christian majesty plainly foresaw that in taking this step, 
 he should probably enter upon a war with Great Britain ; but that 
 he desired no indemnification upon that score on the part of the 
 United States ; not pretending to act solely with a view to their par- 
 ticular interest, since, besides the benevolence he bore them, it was 
 manifest, that the power of England would be diminished by the dis- 
 memberment of her colonies. The king expected only, with lull 
 confidence, from the United States, that whatever was the peace 
 which might he concluded eventually, tfiey would never renounce their 
 independence, and resume the yoke of British domination.' This 
 declaration on the part of France, reassured the minds of the Ameri- 
 cans ; it was followed by very active negotiations during all the month 
 of January. They were immediately communicated to Spain, that 
 she might also, if so inclined, become a party to the convention ; nor 
 was it long before a favorable answer was received from that court. 
 
 All difficulties being surmounted, and the conditions acceded to 
 on the one part and on the other, upon the sixth of February 
 was concluded the treaty of amity between his most Christian 
 majesty and the United States of America. It was signed on he- 
 half of the king by M. Gerard, and for the United States by Ben- 
 jamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. By this treaty, in 
 which the king of France considered the United States of America 
 as an independent nation, were regulated between the contracting 
 parties, various maritime and commercial interests concerning the 
 duties which merchant vessels were to pay in the ports of the friendly 
 state ; it guaranteed the reciprocal protection of vessels in time of 
 war ; the right of fishery, and especially that which the French car- 
 ried on upon the banks of Newfoundland, by virtue of the treaties of 
 Utrecht and of Paris ; it exempted from the right of Aubaine^ as 
 well the French in America, as the Americans in France ; it pro- 
 vided for the exercise of commerce, and the admission of privateers 
 with one of the contracting parties, in case the other should be at war 
 with a third power. To this effect, in order to preclude all occasion 
 of dissention, it was determined by an express clause, what articles, 
 in time of war, should be deemed contraband, and what should 
 be considered free, and consequently might be freely transposed, 
 and introduced by the subjects of the two powers into enemy 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 105 
 
 ports ; those excepted, however, which should be found at the 
 time, besieged, blockaded or invested. It was also agreed, that 
 the ships and vessels of the contracting parties should not be subject 
 to any visit ; it being intended that all visit or search should take 
 place prior to the clearance of the shipping, and that contraband 
 articles should be seized in port, and not upon the voyage, except, 
 however, the cases, where there should exist indications or proofs ot 
 fraud. It was stipulated, besides, that in order to facilitate the com- 
 merce of the United States with France, his most Christian majesty 
 should grant them, as well in Europe as in the islands of America 
 subject to his dominion, several free ports. Finally, the king pledged 
 himself to employ his good offices and mediation with the emperor 
 of Morocco, and with the regencies of Algiers, Tripoli, Tunis, and 
 other powers of the coast of Barbary, in order that provision should 
 be made in the best possible mode for the accommodation and secu- 
 rity of the citizens, ships, and merchandise, ' of the United States of 
 America.' It is to be observed, that this treaty, besides the recog- 
 nition made in it of American independence, was completely subver- 
 sive of the principles which the British government had uniformly 
 attempted to establish as well with respect to the commerce of neu- 
 trals, in time of war, as with regard to the blockade of the ports of 
 an enemy state by the British squadrons. Consequently, it was easy 
 to foresee that, although France had not contracted to furnish suc- 
 cours of any sort to the United States. Great Britain, nevertheless, 
 on being so wounded to the quick in her pride, and in her most 
 essential interests, would manifest a keen resentment, and would pro- 
 bably declare war against France. Hence it was, that the contract- 
 ing parties concluded the same day another, eventual, treaty of 
 alliance, offensive and defensive, which was to take its effect so soon 
 as war should break out between France and England. The two 
 parties engaged to assist each other with good offices, with counsel, 
 and with arms. It was 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. It was also covenanted, that if the remaining 
 provinces of Great Britain upon the American continent, or the Ber- 
 muda islands, came to be conquered, they should become confede- 
 rates or dependants of the United States ; but if any of the islands 
 were taken situated within, or at the entrance of the gulf of Mexico, 
 these should belong to the crown of France. It was agreed, that 
 neither of the two parties could conclude truce or peace with Great 
 Britain without the consent of the other. They reciprocally obli- 
 gated themselves not to lay down arms, until the independence of the 
 United States should be either formally or tacitly acknowledged in 
 the treaties which should terminate the war. They guaranteed to 
 each other, that is the United States to the king of France, his pre- 
 
106 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 sent possessions in America, as well as those he might obtain by the 
 treaty of peace ; and the king of France, to the United States, liber- 
 ty, sovereignty and independence, absolute and unlimited, as well in 
 point of government as of commerce, and likewise those possessions, 
 additions and conquests which the confederation might acquire in the 
 domains of Great Britain in North America. A separate and secret 
 article reserved to the king of Spain the faculty of becoming a party 
 to the treaty of amity and commerce, as well as to that of alliance, 
 at such time as he should think proper. 
 
 Thus France, ever bearing in mind the wounds received in the 
 war of Canada, and always jealous of the power of England, at first 
 by wily intrigues and distant suggestions, then by clandestine suc- 
 cours, and if convenient disavowed, had encouraged the English colo- 
 nies in their resistance ; at length, openly taking them by the hand, 
 she saluted them independent. The French government displayed 
 a profound policy, and singular dexterity in the execution of this 
 plan ; it may even be affirmed, that in no other affair, however im- 
 portant, and in no other time, has it ever exhibited so much sagacity 
 and stability. Its operations were covert, while it was perilous to 
 corne out, and it threw off the mask so soon as the successes of the 
 colonists permitted them to be looked upon as safe allies. It took 
 the field when its armies and especially its fleets were in perfect pre- 
 paration, when all its subjects were favorably disposed, when every 
 thing, in a word, promised victory. It would be difficult to paint the 
 transports of exultation which burst forth in France on the publica- 
 tion of the new treaties. The merchants enjoyed in advance those 
 riches which until then had been confined to the ports of England ; 
 the landholders imagined that their taxes would be diminished in 
 proportion to the increased prosperity of commerce ; the soldiers, 
 and especially the seamen, hoped to avenge their affronts, and re- 
 cover their ancient glory ; the generous spirits exulted that France 
 declared herself, as she should be, the protectress of the oppressed ; 
 the friends of liberal principles applauded her for having undertaken 
 the defence of liberty. All united in blessing the long wished for 
 occasion of repressing the detestable pride of a rival nation. All 
 were persuaded that the losses sustained in the preceding reign were 
 about to be repaired ; it was every where exclaimed, that the de- 
 stinies promised to the crown of France were about to be accom- 
 plished. ' Such,' it was said, ' are the happy auspices which usher 
 in the reign of a clement and beloved prince ; too long have we suf- 
 fered ; let us hail the dawn of a more fortunate future.' Nor was 
 it only in France that this enthusiasm of joy was witnessed ; the same 
 disposition of minds prevailed in almost all the states of Europe. 
 The Europeans lauded, and exalted to the skies, the generosity 
 and the magnanimity of Lewis XVI. Such, at that time was the 
 general abhorrence excited by the conduct of the British govern- 
 ment; or such was the affection borne to the American cause. 
 

 BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR, 107 
 
 Shortly after the subscription of the treaties, and long before they 
 were made public, the British ministry had knowledge of them. 
 It is asserted that some of its members, wishing to embrace this 
 occasion for the reestablishment of concord between the two parties, 
 proposed in the secret councils to acknowledge immediately the 
 independence of the colonies, and to negotiate with them a treaty of 
 commerce and alliance. But the king, either guided by his natural 
 obstinacy, or docile as heretofore to the instigations of lord Bute, re- 
 fused his consent to this measure. It was therefore resolved to pro- 
 ceed by middle ways, which, if they are the least painful, lead also 
 the most rarely to success. They consisted, on this occasion, not in 
 acknowledging independence, which, at this time, it was easier to 
 deny than to prevent, but in renouncing the right of taxation, in re- 
 voking the laws complained of, in granting pardons, in acknowledging 
 for a certain time the American authorities; and, finally, in negotiat- 
 ing with them. This plan of conduct, which was not less, and per- 
 haps more, derogatory to the dignity of the crown than the acknow- 
 ledgment of independence, offered, besides, less real advantage to 
 England ; it was accordingly blamed by all prudent and intelligent 
 politicians. None could avoid seeing, that if it was questionable, 
 whether these measures would have operated the desired effect be- 
 fore the declaration of independence and the alliance with France, 
 it was indubitable that afterwards they must prove absolutely fruitless. 
 That proclivity which men have by nature towards independence, 
 was likely to prevail in the minds of the Americans over the proposal 
 of resuming their former yoke, whatever were the advantages that 
 could have resulted from it. Another consideration must have acted 
 upon them, and particularly upon their chiefs ; they were not igno- 
 rant, that in state matters it is little prudent to confide in the pardon 
 of princes ; neither had they forgotten that these very ministers, who 
 made them such bland proposals, were the same men who had at- 
 tempted to starve America, had filled it with ferocious soldiers, with 
 devastation and with blood. Besides, if the Americans should have 
 broken the faith which they had just pledged to France, they would 
 have declared themselves guilty of a scandalous perfidy ; abandoned 
 by their new allies, could they have hoped after such treachery, to 
 find in their utmost distress, a single power on earth that would deign 
 to succour them f They would have found themselves exposed 
 without shield or defence, to the fury and vengeance of Great Bri- 
 tain. 
 
 But, perhaps, the British ministers believed, that if the measures 
 proposed were not to bring about an arrangement, they might, at 
 least, divide opinions, give birth to powerful parties, and thus, by in- 
 testine dissentions, facilitate the triumph of England. Perhaps, also, 
 and probably they persuaded themselves, that if the Americans re- 
 jected the propositions for an adjustment, they would at least have a 
 
108 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 colorable pretence for continuing the war. But whether the proce- 
 dure of the ministers at this juncture was free or forced, lord North, in 
 the sitting of the House of Commons, of the nineteenth of February, 
 made a very grave speech upon the present state of affairs. He 
 remarked, that sir William Howe had not only been in the late ac- 
 tions, and in the whole course of the campaign, in goodness of troops, 
 and in all manner of supplies, but in numbers, too, much superior to 
 the enemy ; that Burgoyne had been in numbers, until the affair at 
 Bennington, near twice as strong as the army opposed to him ; that 
 sixty thousand men and upwards, had been sent to America, a force 
 which even exceeded the demands of the generals ; but fortune had 
 shown herself so unpropitious, that it had been impossible to reap 
 those advantages which were reasonably to have been expected from 
 it. He concluded with saying, that although Great Britain was most 
 able to continue the war, not only from the abundance of men, and 
 the strength of the navy, but from the flourishing condition of the 
 finances, which might be still increased by a loan at low interest, yet 
 out of that desire which every good government ought to have, to 
 put an end to war, the ministry had determined to submit to the de- 
 liberations of the House certain conciliatory propositions, from which 
 lie expected the most happy results. The general attention was 
 evinced by a profound silence; no mark of approbation was manifested 
 by any party. Astonishment, dejection and fear overclouded the 
 whole assembly; so different was the present language of the minis- 
 ters from what they had ever used before ; it was concluded they 
 had been forced to it by some serious cause. Fox took this oppor- 
 tunity to exclaim, that the treaty of alliance between France and the 
 United States was already signed ; the agitation and tumult became 
 extreme. Lord North moved the resolution, that the parliament could 
 not in future impose any tax or duty in the colonies of North Ameri- 
 ca, 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 advan- 
 tage. 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. 
 
 The commissioners were, also, to be authorised to proclaim armis- 
 tices wherever they should think proper, to suspend prohibitory laws, 
 and generally all laws promulgated since the tenth of February ; one 
 thousand seven hundred and sixty-three ; and to pardon whoever, 
 and as many as they pleased. Finally, they were to have authority 
 to appoint governors and commanders-in-chief in the reconciled pro- 
 vinces. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 109 
 
 Thus the British ministers, now urged by necessity, all at once 
 conceded what they had refused during fifteen years, and what they 
 had been contending for in a sanguinary and cruel war,, already of 
 three years standing. Whether it was the fault of fortune, or their 
 own, they appeared in this conjuncture as in all others, inflexible 
 when they should have yielded, and pliant when too late. Incapable 
 of controlling events, they were dragged along by them. The bills 
 proposed passed almost without opposition in parliament ; but with- 
 out, they excited universal discontent. ' Such concessions/ it was 
 vociferated, 'are too unworthy of the British name and power ; they 
 would only be admissible in an extremity, such as, heaven be thank- 
 ed, England is still far from being reduced to ; they are calculated 
 to sow discouragement amongst us, to enervate our armies, to em- 
 bolden our enemies, and to detach our allies. Since the right of 
 taxation is renounced, which was the- first motive and cause of the 
 war, why not go farther, and acknowledge independency ?' In a 
 word, the ministers were charged with having done too much, or too 
 little ; the common fate of those, who, from timidity betake them- 
 selves to half measures ; whose prudence and vigor prove equally 
 vain. Nor were the ministers only exposed to the animadversions 
 of the opposite party ; the most moderate citizens expressed a no 
 less decided disapprobation. Nevertheless, the king appointed not 
 long after, for commissioners, the earl of Carlisle, lord Howe, Wil- 
 liam Eden, George Johnstone, and the comrnander-in-chief of the 
 English army in America ; individuals highly distinguished, either by 
 their rank, or by the celebrity of their achievements, or by their in- 
 telligence and experience in American affairs ; the earl of Carlisle, 
 Eden and Johnstone, sailed from St. Helen's the twenty-first of 
 April, on board the ship Trident. 
 
 In the midst of this complication of novel events, and of novel 
 measures, and while the entire British nation was anxiously looking 
 towards the future, the marquis de Noailles, ambassador of his most 
 Christian majesty, at the court of England, in pursuance of instruc- 
 tions from his sovereign, delivered on the thirteenth of March to 
 lord Weymouth, secretary of state for foreign affairs, the following 
 declaration ; 
 
 4 The United States of America, which are in full possession of the 
 independence declared by their act of the fourth of July, one thou- 
 sand seven hundred and seventy-six, having made a proposal to the 
 king, to consolidate, by a formal convention, the connections that 
 have begun to be established between the two nations, the respective 
 plenipotentiaries have signed a treaty of amity and commerce, intend- 
 ed to serve as a basis for mutual good correspondence. 
 
 1 His majesty, being resolved to cultivate the good understanding 
 subsisting between France and Great Britain, by all the means com- 
 patible with his dignity, and with the good of his subjects, thinks that 
 
 VOL. II. 15 
 
110 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 he ought to impart this step to the court of London, and declare to 
 it, at the same time, that the contracting parties have had attention 
 not to stipulate any exclusive advantage in favor of the French nation, 
 and that the United States have preserved the liberty of treating 
 with all nations whatsoever on the same foot of equality and recipro- 
 city. 
 
 ' In making this communication to the court of London, the king 
 is firmly persuaded, that it will find in it fresh proofs of his majesty's 
 constant and sincere dispositions for peace ; and that his Britannic 
 majesty, animated by the same sentiments, will equally avoid every 
 thing that may interrupt good harmony ; and that he will take, in par- 
 ticular, effectual measures to hinder the commerce of his majesty's 
 subjects with the United States of America from being disturbed, and 
 cause to be observed, in this respect, the usages received between 
 trading nations and the rules that may be considered as subsisting 
 between the crowns of France and Great Britain. 
 
 'In this just confidence, the underwritten ambassador might think 
 it superfluous to apprise the British ministry, that the king his mas- 
 ter, being determined effectually to protect the lawful freedom of the 
 commerce of his subjects, and to sustain the honor of his flag, his 
 majesty has taken in consequence eventual measures, in concert with 
 the United States of North America.' 
 
 This declaration, so full of matter in itself, and presented with very 
 little ceremony by the French ambassador, stung British pride to the 
 quick. If it was one of those shrewd turns which are not unusual 
 among princes in their reciprocal intercourse, it was also one of those 
 which they are not accustomed to forgive. France had foreseen its 
 consequences, and far from dreading them, they were the very ob- 
 ject of her wishes and hopes. Lord North communicated, the seven- 
 teenth of March, the note of the French minister to the House of 
 Commons, with a message from the king, purporting that his majesty 
 had thought proper in consequence of this offensive declaration on 
 the part of the government of France, to recall his ambassador from 
 that court ; that he had been sincerely desirous to preserve the tran- 
 quillity of Europe ; and that he trusted he should not stand respon- 
 sible for its interruption, if he resented so unprovoked, and so unjust 
 an aggression on the honor of his crown, and the essential interests of 
 his kingdoms, contrary to the most solemn assurances, subversive of 
 the law of nations, and injurious to the rights of every sovereign 
 power in Europe. He concluded with saying, that relying with the 
 firmest confidence on the zeal of his people, he hoped to be in a 
 condition to repel every insult and attack, and to maintain and uphold 
 the power and reputation of his crown. 
 
 This resolution surprised no one; it was already the subject of 
 conversation in all companies. Lord North moved the usual address 
 of thanks to the king, with assurance of the support of parliament. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. Ill 
 
 A member named Baker, proposed that the king should be entreated 
 to remove from his counsels those persons in whom his people could 
 no longer repose any sort of confidence. This amendment was sup- 
 ported with great spirit. It was then that governor Pownall, a man 
 of weight, and particularly conversant in American affairs, rose and 
 spoke in much the following terms ; 
 
 ' I do not deem it consistent with the business of this solemn day, 
 which is about to decide upon the immediate reestablishment, or 
 irreparable ruin of our country, to go into the inquiry whether the 
 present ministers are longer to be trusted with the conduct of the 
 battered ship of the state, in the midst of tempests, or whether we 
 are to commit the helm to other hands. Considerations of far higher 
 importance, if I am not mistaken, demand all your attention. For 
 whatever these ministers may be, against whom I hear such bitter 
 murmurs, if we have the wisdom to take this day a suitable resolu- 
 tion, I have not the least doubt that even they will be capable of 
 executing it with success. If, on the contrary, persisting in the mea- 
 sures which have brought us into this critical position, we add a new 
 blunder to all our past errors, neither these nor any other ministers 
 can save us from perdition. 
 
 'Besides, those who are desirous of investigating the causes of our 
 disasters, and who impute them to the present servants of die crown, 
 will have an early opportunity for sifting that subject to their wish, in 
 Mhe regular examination of their conduct, which is to occupy this 
 House in a few days. But what is the business before us, and what 
 is the subject of our immediate deliberations? Faithless and haughty 
 France rises against us ; she threatens us with war, if we presume to 
 resent, nay, if we do not accept the insulting conditions she dictates. 
 Where is the citizen who loves his country, where is the Briton who 
 is not fired with indignation, who is not impatient to avenge the out- 
 rages of this implacable rival ? I also have British blood in my veins; 
 I feel it in the transports which animate me, I approve high and mag- 
 nanimous resolutions. But what I condemn, and so long as I have life 
 will always condemn, is the impolicy of hurrying to encounter two 
 wars instead of one, and of choosing rather to add a new enemy to 
 the old, than to be reconciled with the latter, in order to operate in 
 concert against the former. To vanquish France and America to- 
 gether, is an enterprise to be reckoned among impossible events ; to 
 triumph over the first after having disarmed the second, is not only 
 possible, but easy. But in order to attain this object, it is necessary 
 to acknowledge, what we can no longer prevent, I mean American 
 independence. And what are the obstacles which oppose so salu- 
 tary a resolution ? or by what reasons can it be combated ? Perhaps 
 the desire of glory, or the honor of the crown? But honor resides 
 in victory ; shame in defeat ; and in affairs of state, the useful is 
 always honorable. 
 
112 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 ' We should consider also, that in acknowledging the independence 
 of the United States, we acknowledge not only what is, but also what 
 we have already recognised, if not in form, at least in fact. In those 
 very acts of conciliation which we have so lately passed, we acknow- 
 ledge, if we would speak ingenuously, that we have renounced all 
 sort of supremacy. If our intention is to maintain it, we have already 
 gone too far ; but if our desire of peace be sincere, we have not gone 
 far enough ; and every step we shall take to put the Americans back 
 from independency, will convince them the more of the necessity of 
 going forward. Inveterate inclinations are not so easily changed, and 
 resolutions taken after long and mature deliberations, are riot so lightly 
 diverted. 
 
 ' If we look well into the great acts of their proceedings, we shall 
 soon be satisfied that they were not suddenly taken up as an ebulli- 
 tion of enthusiasm, or in the bitterness of passion or revenge, but 
 rather as coming on of course, by a train of events, linked together 
 by a system of policy. Their march was slow, but in measured 
 steps ; feeling their ground before they set their foot on it ; yet when 
 once set, there fixed forever. They made their declaration of rights 
 in 1774, itself but little compatible with British supremacy. They 
 afterwards confirmed it by a manifesto, in which they proclaimed 
 their reasons for taking up arms ; and finally they declared their 
 independence, which is but the pinnacle and accomplishment of that 
 work which they had long since commenced, which they were assist- 
 ed in perfecting by the very nature of things, and which they have 
 so valiantly defended in three successive campaigns. 
 
 ' If these people, when they viewed their cause abandoned, as to 
 all assistance which they looked to in Europe ; when sinking, as to 
 all appearance of what the utmost exertions of their own resources 
 had done; when clouded with despair; would not give up the ground 
 of independence, on which they were determined to stand ; what 
 hopes can there be, and from what quarter, that they will now, when 
 every event of fate and fortune is reversed to us, and turned in their 
 favor ; when they feel their own power able to resist, to counteract, 
 and in one deplorable instance, superior to, and victorious over ours; 
 when they see their cause taken up in Europe ; when they find the 
 nations amongst which they have taken their equal station, acknow- 
 ledging their independency, and concluding treaties with them as such; 
 when France has actually and avowedly done it ; when it is known 
 that Spain must follow, and that Holland will ; what hopes can there 
 be, and from what quarter, that they will, all at once, pull down their 
 own new governments, to receive our provincial ones ? That they will 
 dissolve their confederation ? That they will disavow all their rea- 
 sons for taking up arms ; and give up all those rights which they 
 have declared, claimed and insisted upon, in order to receive such 
 others at our hands, as supremacy on one hand will, and dependency 
 
OOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 113 
 
 on the other can admit them to ? And how can we hope to conquer, 
 when surrounded by his allies, the enemy, who single has repulsed 
 your attacks ? France abounds in hardy and gallant warriors, she 
 will inundate with them the plains of America ; and then, whether 
 we shall be able, I say not to conquer, but to resist, let each be his 
 own judge. 
 
 1 We are in sight of the coasts of France, we see them lined with 
 formidable maritime preparations, and though we may not fear, we 
 ought at least to guard against, an attack upon this very territory, 
 where we are meditating the destruction of America, who combats 
 us, and of France who seconds her. It follows that those soldiers 
 who might have been sent to America, must remain in Great Britain 
 to defend our hallowed laws, our sacred altars, our country itself 
 against the fury of the French. Already the numerous fleet of 
 Brest is perfectly prepared to put to sea ; already the coasts of 
 Normandy, swarm with troops that seem to menace a descent upon 
 our natal land. And what are we doing in the meantime? We 
 are here deliberating whether it is better to have divers enemies, 
 than one only ; whether it is more expedient to encounter at once 
 America and Europe in league for our destruction, than to make 
 head against Europe with the arms of America to back us! But 
 am I alone in maintaining that the safety of England is attached to 
 the measure I propose ? All prudent men profess the same opinion ; 
 the unanimous voice of the people repeats it; the pompous but vain 
 declamations of the ministers they have learned to interpret as the 
 denunciations of irreparable calamities to the country. Of this the 
 too certain proof is found, in the fall of the public funds ; which 
 took place the moment there was any mention of this new ministerial 
 frenzy, of this obstinacy more Scotch than English. Tell us then, 
 ministers, sometimes so weakly credulous, at all times so obstinate in 
 your resolutions, if you have easily effected the late loan, and what 
 is the rate of interest you have paid ? But you are silent. Will 
 not this then suffice to convince you of the perversity of your 
 measures ? 
 
 ' I know there are some who are careful to give out that the ac- 
 knowledgment of independence, besides being a measure little to our 
 honor, would offer no certain advantage, since we have no assurance 
 that it would satisfy the Americans. But how can we believe that 
 the Americans will prefer the alliance of France to ours ? Are not 
 these the same French who formerly attempted to subjugate them ? 
 Are not these the same French whose wishes would have led them 
 to extinguish the name and language of the English? How can it be 
 supposed that the Americans have not yet reflected that England, 
 their bulwark, once prostrated, they will be abandoned, without 
 defence, to the power of France, who will dispose of them as she 
 sees fit ? How should they not perceive this artifice of the French. 
 
114 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX, 
 
 not new, but now prepared and rendered more dangerous by our 
 own imprudence, which consists in laboring to dissolve our union in 
 order to crush us separately ? The Americans will undoubtedly prefer 
 the friendship and alliance of France to dependency ; but believe 
 me, when I assure you, that they will like infinitely better the alliance 
 of Great Britain, conjointly with independence. Besides, it is a 
 secret to nobody that the Americans are incensed against France for 
 having in this very negotiation profited of their distress, to try to 
 drive a hard and inequitable bargain with them ; thus setting a price 
 upon their independence. Let us avail ourselves, if we are wise, of 
 the effects of French avarice, and we may thus make friends of those 
 whom we can no longer have for subjects. Independent of the rea- 
 sons I have urged, the interest of reciprocal commerce alone, if every 
 other part of the ground be taken equal, would determine the 
 Americans to prefer our friendship to that of France. But why 
 should I multiply arguments to convince you of that, which I can in 
 an instant demonstrate beyond all doubt ? I have seen, and read with 
 my own eyes, a letter written by Benjamin Franklin, a man, as you 
 all know, of irrefragable authority with his countrymen. In this 
 letter, transmitted to London since the conclusion of the treaty of 
 alliance between France and America, he affirms that if Great Britain 
 would renounce her supremacy, and treat with the Americans as an 
 independent nation, peace might be reestablished immediately. 
 These are not the news and silly reports, with which our good minis- 
 ters allow themselves to be amused by refugees. But if we may 
 count upon the friendship and alliance of independent America, it is 
 equally clear, that instead of being weakened by the separation, we 
 should become but the more capable of attack, and the more vigor- 
 ous for defence. For a part of these troops, which are now employed 
 to no effect in our colonies, might then be taken with advantage to form 
 such garrisons in Canada and Nova Scotia, as would put those pro- 
 vinces out of all insult and danger. The rest of the forces there might 
 be employed to protect our islands, and to attack those of France, 
 which, thus taken by surprise, would inevitably fall into our hands. 
 As to the fleet, we could so dispose it as to cover and defend at once 
 all our possessions and our commerce in the two hemispheres. Thus 
 delivered from all disquietude on the part of America, we should be 
 enabled to bend all our thoughts and all our forces against France ; 
 and make her pay the forfeit of her insolence and audacity. 
 
 ' On these considerations, I think that abandoning half measures, 
 we should extend the powers of the commissioners to the enabling 
 them to treat, consult, and finally to agree and acknowledge the 
 Americans as independent ; on condition, and in the moment, that 
 they will, as such, form a federal treaty, offensive and defensive and 
 commercial with us. If I am not greatly mistaken we should reap 
 more advantage from this single resolution, than from several victories, 
 in a war become hopeless. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 115 
 
 ' But if, on the contrary, we persist in our infatuation, we shall 
 learn to our irreparable prejudice, how costly it is to trust more to 
 appearances than reality, and how dangerous to listen to the perni- 
 cious counsels of fury and pride. Be assured, if the commis- 
 sioners are not empowered to acknowledge independence, they had 
 better never go ; their going will be a mockery, and end in disgrace.' 
 
 These considerations, weighty in themselves, and the emphatic 
 manner of the orator, made a deep impression upon the minds of his 
 auditors ; it was perceived that several members of the ministerial 
 party began to waver. But the minister of war, Jenkinson, a person- 
 age of no little authority, immediately answered by the following 
 speech ; 
 
 * Nations, no less than individuals, ought to pursue that which is 
 just and honest; and if this~be their duty, it is equally also their 
 interest, since it generally conducts them to glory and to greatness. 
 On the other hand, what can be more fatal to the felicity of states, 
 than the uncertainty and instability of counsels ? 
 
 I Resolutions always fluctuating, betray in those who goverri, either 
 weakness of mind, or timidity of spirit; and prevent them from ever 
 attaining the end proposed. This axiom admitted, I hope to have 
 little difficulty in persuading the House that in the present question, 
 where we see prejudiced men hurried away by vain chimeras, it is 
 as rigorously required by justice and our dignity as by the most 
 essential interests of the state, that we should not depart from the 
 counsels we pursue. However fortune may turn her wheel, the war 
 we wage is just. Such the wisdom of parliament has decreed it ; 
 such the voice of the people has proclaimed it ; such the very nature 
 of things confirms it. Why it has not been more successful, I will 
 not now take upon rne to say. Whatever may have been the causes, 
 the want of success, has at last brought upon us the insults and 
 meditated attacks of the French. Is there any one here, who, in 
 such a situation, would have Great Britain despond, would have her 
 stoop to unworthy resolutions, and through fear of the French, ac- 
 knowledge herself vanquished by her ancient subjects? But what do 
 I say ? There are men who would have us tremble for ourselves ; 
 and who imagine they already see the French banners floating at the 
 gates of London. But disregarding the vain terrors of these, I know 
 not whether to say ambitious or timorous men, I pledge myself to 
 demonstrate, that the course we have hitherto pursued is not only 
 that of justice and honor, but that it is capable of conducting us to 
 the object of our desires. 
 
 I 1 shall begin with asking these bosom friends of rebels, if they 
 are certain that it is all America, or only a seditious handful, whose 
 craft and audacity have raised them to the head of affairs, who claim- 
 independency ? For my own part, I confess that this independence 
 appears to me rather a vision that floats in certain, brains, inflamed 
 
116 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 by the rage of innovation, on that side of the Atlantic as well as on 
 this, than any general wish of the people. This is what all men of 
 sense declare, who have resided in the midst of that misguided mul- 
 titude ; this is attested by the thousands of royalists who have 
 flocked to the royal standard in New York, and who have fought for 
 the king in the plains of Saratoga, and on the banks of the Brandy- 
 wine. This, finally, is proclaimed by the very prisons, crowded 
 with inhabitants, who have chosen rather to part with their liberty, 
 than to renounce their allegiance ; and have preferred an imminent 
 peril of death, to a participation in rebellion. If their cooperation 
 has not proved of that utility, which from their number and force 
 was to have been expected, this must be imputed not to their 
 indifference, but rather to the inconsiderate zeal which caused them 
 to break out prematurely. There is every reason to think that to 
 such subjects as remained faithful until England set up the pretension 
 of taxation, many others will join themselves now that she has 
 renounced it ; for already all are convinced how much better it is to 
 live under the mild sway of an equitable prince, than under the 
 tyranny of new and ambitious men. And why should I here omit 
 the ties of consanguinity, the common language, the mutual interests, 
 the conformity of manners and the recollection of ancient union ? 
 I appeal even to the testimony of my adversary, with regard to the 
 avarice, and revolting behavior of France, during the negotiation of 
 alliance, and ran it be doubtful that to this new, insatiable, arrogant 
 and faithless friend, the Americans will prefer their old, tried, benefi- 
 cent and affectionate fellow-citizens ? Nor should I omit to mention 
 a "well known fact; the finances of Congress are exhausted ; their 
 soldiers are naked and famishing ; they can satisfy none of the wants 
 of the state ; creditors are without remedy against their debtors ; 
 hence arise scandals without end, private hatreds, and unanimous 
 maledictions against the government. 
 
 ' There is not an individual among the Americans, but sees that in 
 accepting the terms offered by Great Britain, the public credit will 
 be reestablished, private property secured, and abundance in all parts 
 of the social body restored. They will concur with the more ardor, 
 in establishing this- prosperity, when they shall see powerful England 
 resolved on continuing the war with redoubled energy. Certainly 
 they will not believe that any succours they can receive from haughty 
 France will compel us very speedily to accept of ignominious con- 
 ditions. Yes, methinks I already see, or I am strangely mistaken, 
 the people of America flocking to the royal standard ; every thing 
 invites them to it; fidelity towards the sovereign, the love of the 
 English name, the hope of a happier future, their aversion to their 
 new and unaccustomed allies, and finally, the hatred they bear to 
 the tyranny of Congress. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 117 
 
 ' It is then that we shall have cause to applaud our constancy, 
 then shall we acknowledge that the most honorable counsels, as the 
 most worthy of so great a realm, are also the most useful and safe. 
 So far from thinking the new war against France ought to dismay 
 us, I see in it only grounds of better hopes. If up to the present 
 time we have had but little success against the Americans, whatever 
 may have been the cause of it, where is the Englishman who does 
 not hope, nay, who does not firmly believe, that the French are 
 about to furnish us with occasions for the most brilliant triumphs. 
 As for myself, I find the pledge of it in the recollection of our past 
 achievements, in the love of our ancient glory, in the present ardor 
 of our troops, and especially in the strength of our navy. The 
 advantages we shall gain over the French by land and sea, will 
 recompense the losses we have sustained in America. The Ameri- 
 cans, finding their hopes frustrated, which they had so confidently 
 placed on the efficacy of the succours of their new allies, will be 
 struck with terror ; they will prefer the certain peace of an accom- 
 modation to future independence, rendered daily more uncertain by 
 new defeats of their allies. Besides, who will presume to affirm 
 that fortune will not become more propitious to us even upon the 
 territory of America ? Is it going too far to believe, that when our 
 armies shall direct their march towards the open and fertile pro- 
 vinces inhabited by the loyalists, they will be more successful than 
 they could be in mountainous, steril, savage regions, swarming with 
 rebels . ? For myself, I have not a particle of doubt that we shall find 
 in Georgia and the Carolinas the most ample indemnification for the 
 unlucky campaigns of New Jersey and of Pennsylvania. But I 
 admit, which God forbid, fresh disasters; I will nevertheless maintain 
 that we ought to prosecute what we have commenced. If we lose 
 our colonies, we* shall not lose honor. I would rather American 
 independence, if ever it must exist, should be the offspring of inexor- 
 able destiny, than of a base condescension on our part. 
 
 1 Shall France then find us so tame, as at the bare shadow of her 
 enmity, to abandon our possessions and tamely yield up to her all 
 our glory ; we who have the time still green in memory, when, after 
 having by victories on victories trampled upon her pride and pros- 
 trated her power, we triumphantly scoured all seas, and the conti- 
 nent of America. 
 
 ' Of what country then are the authors of such timid counsels ? 
 English perhaps. As for myself I cannot believe it. Who are these 
 pusillanimous spirits, who paint our affairs as if they were desperate ? 
 Are they women or affrighted children ? I should incline to believe 
 the latter, if I did not see them often holding forth within these walls 
 their sinister predictions, indulging their favorite whim of reviling 
 their country, expatiating with apparent delight upon its weakness, 
 and magnifying the power of its ambitious enemy. And what is then 
 
 VOL. II. 16 
 
118 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 this France, at the gathering of whose frowns we are to shudder ? 
 Where are her seamen trained to naval manoeuvres ? Where are her 
 soldiers formed in battles ? I will tell those who don't known it, or 
 who affect not to know it, that she is at this very moment attacked 
 with an internal malady that will paralyze her strength at the very 
 moment she may wish to move. Who of you is ignorant that she 
 labors under an annual deficiency of thirty millions ? Who knows 
 not that she is destitute of the resources of loans ? Her rich capitalists 
 being as distrustful as they are rare. 
 
 'But it is not in the sinking of credit only that France is distress- 
 ed ; the spirit of free inquiry, and the effects of an extended com- 
 merce, have introduced opinions among the French people that are 
 wholly incompatible with their government. Contrary to all prece- 
 dent, contrary to all ideas of that government ; a reasoning has 
 propagated and even entered into some of the lines of business, that 
 the twentieth is a free gift, and that every individual has a right to 
 judge of its necessity, and oversee its employment. 
 
 * Besides this, one bad effect of the zeal with which they pre- 
 tended to take up the American cause, and which they now learn in 
 earnest to have an affection for, has tainted their principles with the 
 spirit of republicanism. These principles of liberty always diminish 
 the force of government ; and if they take root and grow up in 
 France, we shall see that government as distracted and unsettled as 
 any other. 
 
 6 1 hear talk of the difficulty of borrowing among ourselves, and of 
 the depression of the public funds ; but the lenders have already 
 come forward ; and I understand the first payment is already made. 
 The interest they have demanded is not only not usurious, but it is 
 even mucji more moderate than our enemies would have wished, or 
 than our croaking orators predicted. As to the fajl of the funds, it 
 has been very inconsiderable, and they have even risen today. But 
 how shall I treat the grand bugbear of French invasion f We have a 
 formidable fleet, thirty thousand regular troops ; and at a moment's 
 warning, could muster such a body of militia as would make France 
 desist from, or bitterly rue her projects. It is no such easy task to 
 vanquish Britons ; their country falls not a prey so lightly to whom- 
 soever. We are told also that the Americans are ready to contract 
 alliance with us, and that they have manifested such a wish ; and 
 we have already seen men credulous enough to catch at the lure. 
 Do we not know that those who agitate these intrigues, if indeed 
 any credit is due to such rumors, are the very same persons who 
 violated the capitulation of Saratoga, the same who imprison, who 
 torture, who massacre the loyal subjects of the king ? For my part, 
 I fear the gift and its bearer ; t fear American wiles ; I fear the 
 French school ; I fear they wish to degrade us by the refusal, after 
 having mocked us by their offers. Hitherto I have been consider- 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 119 
 
 ing exclusively what policy demands of you ; I will now briefly 
 remind you of the claims of justice, gratitude and humanity. Think 
 of those who in the midst of the rage of rebellion have preserved 
 their fidelity to the king, to yourselves, to the country. Have com- 
 passion for those who have placed all their hopes in your constancy. 
 'Take pity on the wives, on the widows, on the children of those, 
 who, now exposed without defence to the fury of the insurgents, 
 offer up their prayers to heaven for the prosperity of your arms, and 
 see no glimpse of any period to their torments but in your victory. 
 Will you abandon all these ; will you allow them to become the 
 victims of the confidence they placed in you ? Will the English 
 show less perseverance in their own cause, than the loyalists have 
 manifested on their behalf? Ah ! such abominable counsels were 
 never yet embraced by this generous kingdom. Already, methinks, 
 I see your noble bosoms pant with indignation ; already I hear your 
 voices cry vengeance on outrages so unexampled, while your hands 
 grasp the arms which are about to inflict it. On, then, ye fathers of 
 the state ! accomplish the high desliny that awaits you. Save the 
 honor of the kingdom, succour the unfortunate, protect the faithful, 
 defend the country. Let Europe acknowledge, and France prove 
 to her cost, that it is pure British blood which still flows in your 
 veins. To condense therefore in a few words what 1 feel and what 
 I think, I move, that the proposition of my adversary btdng rejected, 
 the king be assured that his faithful commons are ready to furnish 
 him with the means that shall be necessary to maintain the honor of 
 his people and the dignity of his crown.' 
 
 As soon as Jenkinson had finished speaking, there followed an 
 incredible agitation in the House. At length the votes were taken, 
 and it was carried almost unanimously, that an address of thanks 
 should be presented to the king, that war should be continued against 
 the colonies, and declared against France. 
 
 But, in the sitting of the House of Lords of the seventh of April, 
 after the duke of Richmond had concluded a very solid and very elo- 
 quent speech, proving that it was time to give another direction to the 
 affairs of the kingdom, that House became the scene of a melancholy 
 event. The earl of Chatham, though sinking under a mortal infirm- 
 ity, had dragged himself to his place in parliament. Shocked at 
 the new measures that were thrown out there, and determined not 
 to consent to the separation of America, he pronounced these words, 
 which were the last of his life ; ' I have made an effort almost 
 beyond the powers of my constitution to come down to the House on 
 this day to express the indignation I feel at an idea which I under- 
 stand has been proposed to you, of yielding up the sovereignty of 
 America ! 
 
 ' My lords, I rejoice that the grave has not closed upon me ; that 
 I am still alive to lift up my voice against the dismemberment of this 
 
120 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX, 
 
 ancient and most noble monarchy ! Pressed down, as I am, by the 
 hand of infirmity, I am little able to assist my country in this most 
 perilous conjuncture ; but, my lords, while I have sense and memory, 
 I will never consent to deprive the royal offspring of the House 
 of Brunswick, the heirs of the princess Sophia, of their fairest inhe- 
 ritance. 
 
 ' Where is the man that will dare to advise such a measure ? His 
 majesty succeeded to an empire as great in extent as its reputation 
 was unsullied. Shall we tarnish the lustre of this nation by an igno- 
 minious surrender of its rights and fairest possessions ? Shall this 
 great kingdom, that has survived whole and entire the Danish depre- 
 dations, the Scottish inroads, and the Norman conquest ; that has 
 stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish armada, now fall pros- 
 trate before the House of Bourbon ? Surely, my lords, this nation is 
 no longer what it was ! Shall a people that seventeen years ago was 
 the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient invete- 
 rate enemy, take all we have, only give us peace ? It is impossi- 
 ble ! In God's name, if it is absolutely necessary to declare either 
 for peace or war, and the former cannot be preserved with honor, 
 why is not the latter commenced without hesitation f I am not, I 
 confess, well informed of the resources of this kingdom ; but I trust 
 it has still sufficient to maintain its just rights. But, my lords, any 
 state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort ; and 
 if we must fall, let us fall like men !' 
 
 Here the earl of Chatham ended his speech. The duke of Rich- 
 mond rose, and endeavored to prove that the conquest of America 
 by force of arms, was become impracticable ; that consequently it 
 was wiser to secure her friendship by a treaty of alliance, than to 
 throw her into the arms of France. The earl of Chatham wished to 
 reply, but after two or three unsuccessful attempts to stand, he fell 
 down in a swoon on his seat. He was immediately assisted by the 
 duke of Cumberland, and several other principal members of the 
 House. They removed him into an adjacent apartment, called the 
 Prince's Chamber. The confusion and disorder became extreme. 
 The duke of Richmond proposed, that in consideration of this public 
 calamity, the House should adjourn to the following day ; and it was 
 accordingly done. The next day the debate was resumed upon the 
 motion of the duke of Richmond ; but it was finally rejected by a 
 large majority. 
 
 The eleventh of May, was the last day of William Pitt, earl of 
 Chatham ; he was in his seventieth year. His obsequies were cele- 
 brated the eighth of June, with extraordinary pomp, in Westminster 
 Abbey ; where a monument was erected to him a short lime after. 
 This man, whether for his genius, his virtues, or the great things he 
 did for his country, is rather to be paralleled with the ancients than 
 preferred to the moderns. He governed for a considerable time the 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 opulent kingdom of Great Britain ; he raised it to such a pitch of 
 splendor, as the English at no other period had ever known, or even 
 presumed to hope for; and he died, if not in poverty, at least with 
 so narrow a fortune, that it would not have been sufficient to main- 
 tain his family honorably ; a thing at that time sufficiently remarkable, 
 and which in the present age might pass for a prodigy ! But his 
 grateful country recompensed in the children the virtue of the lather. 
 The parliaments-anted a perpetual annuity of four thousancrpounds 
 sterling to the family of Chatham, besides paying twenty thousand 
 pounds of debts which the late earl had been compelled to contract, 
 in order to support his rank and his numerous household. No indi- 
 vidual until that time, except the duke of Marlborough, had received 
 in England such high and liberal rewards. The earl of Chatham 
 was no less distinguished as a great orator, than as a profound states- 
 man, and immaculate citizen. He defended with* admirable elo- 
 quence before parliament, those resolutions which he had maturely 
 discussed and firmly adopted in the consultations of the cabinet. 
 Some, it is true, blamed in his speeches the too frequent use of 
 figures, and a certain pornp of style much savoring of the taste of 
 those limes. But this great minister surpassed all the rulers of na- 
 tions of his age, in the art of exciting, even to enthusiasm, the zeal 
 of the servants of the state, civil as well as military ; a talent which 
 heaven confers but rarely, and only upon privileged individuals. In 
 a word, he was a man whose name will never be pronounced without 
 encomium, and the resplendent glory of whose virtues will eternally 
 recommend them to imitation. 
 
 We now resume the thread of events. The British ministers, 
 seeing that war with France was become inevitable, took all the 
 measures they judged necessary to sustain it. They exerted them- 
 selves therein with the more ardor, as they could not but perceive 
 that if England showed herself with disadvantage in this contest 
 against France and America, Spain, and perhaps even Holland, 
 would not long remain neuter ; whereas, on the other hand, a prompt 
 and brilliant victory might intimidate the two latter powers from de- 
 claring themselves. Their attention was occupied especially in 
 pressing their maritime preparations, as therein consisted the princi- 
 pal defence of the kingdom, and the pledge of success. But on a 
 strict examination into the state of the navy, it was found to be nei- 
 ther so numerous, nor so well provided, as had been supposed, and 
 as the urgency of circumstances required. This afflicting discovery 
 excited a general clamor. In the two Houses of parliament, the duke 
 of Bolton and Fox inveighed with great asperity against the earl of 
 Sandwich, who was first lord of the admiralty. No diligence, 
 however, was omitted to remedy all deficiencies. To cheer the 
 public mind in so trying a conjuncture, and especially to inspirit the 
 seamen, by giving them a chief possessed of their full confidence, the 
 
122 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 ministers appointed to the command of the fleet lying at Portsmouth, 
 admiral Keppel, an officer of distinguished ability, and highly cele- 
 brated for his brilliant achievements in the preceding wars. Lords 
 Hawks and Anson, those two bright luminaries of the British marine, 
 had honored him with their esteem and closest friendship ; in a word, 
 no choice could have been so agreeable to the British nation at large 
 as lhaifcf admiral Keppel. He refused not the appointment, not- 
 withstanding that he was already arrived at an age in which man 
 prefers repose to action, and that he could aspire to no greater glory 
 than what he had acquired ; he must even have felt a sort of repug- 
 nance to commit it anew to the hazard of battles. To these con- 
 siderations was added another untoward particular, which was, that, 
 as a whig, the ministers eyed him with jealousy ; a circumstance 
 which, in the course of events, might occasion him many disgusts. 
 But more thoughtful for the good of his country, which claimed his 
 services, than of his private convenience, he hesitated not to accept 
 the charge, to which he was invited by the public voice. The vice- 
 adrnirals, Harland and Palliser, both officers of high reputation, were 
 appointed to second him in command. On his arrival at Portsmouth, 
 Keppel, instead of a great fleet ready to proceed to sea, found, to 
 his extreme surprise, only six sail of the line prepared for immediate 
 service, crews incomplete, provisions insufficient, and naval munitions 
 wanting. The ministers, alleged that the other ships had been 
 detached on different services, but that they were to return shortly. 
 However it was, the admiral exerted an activity so astonishing, that 
 by the middle of June he found himself in condition to put to sea 
 with twenty ships of the line, and not without expectation of prompt 
 reenforcements. He sailed from St. Helens on the thirteenth, ac- 
 companied by the fervent prayers of all England. The posture of 
 affairs was inexpressibly critical and alarming. It was known that 
 France had a numerous fleet at Brest, completely manned and 
 equipped for sea ; the ships which conveyed the riches of India were 
 expected from day to day, and might become the prey of the French. 
 This disaster, so great in itself, by the loss of such treasures, must 
 have involved another of still greater consequence, that of an im- 
 mense number of sailors, who were counted upon to man the ships 
 of war. To this momentous consideration, were joined the defence 
 of the vast extent of the British coasts, the safety of the capital itself, 
 the preservation of the arsenals, the repositories of all the elements 
 of the greatness of England, and the basis of all her hopes; and all. 
 these objects, rather of vital than of great importance, were confided 
 to the protection of twenty ships ! 
 
 Meanwhile, the land preparations were pushed with no less ardor 
 than the maritime. The recruiting "service was prosecuted with 
 success ; the militia were assembled, and formed into regiments 
 upon the model of regular troops. Encampments were established 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 123 
 
 in such places as were thought most exposed to the attempts of the 
 enemy. Thus the English made their dispositions to meet the im- 
 pending war. The government had already ordered, by way of 
 reprisal, the detention of all the French vessels that were found in 
 the ports. ^ 
 
 But France, who for a long time had purposed to turn her arms 
 against England, was better provided with all the implements of war. 
 Her fleet was numerous, and all her arsenals were in full activity. 
 The court of Versailles, on intelligence of the hostile manner with 
 which king George had answered the declaration of the marquis de 
 Noailles, immediately despatched orders to the different ports, pro- 
 hibiting the departure of all English vessels. This measure, taken 
 reciprocally by the two powers, produced but little effect ; the mas- 
 ters $f merchant vessels, foreseeing a rupture, had hastened to 
 recover their own shores. France henceforth, laying aside all hesi- 
 tations, felt it due to herself to assume the attitude which becomes a 
 great and powerful nation. She was disposed to perfect the work 
 commenced by her declaration, and to reassure the minds of her new 
 allies by a step from which it was impossible to fall back without 
 shame. She therefore resolved to receive, and formally acknow- 
 ledge, the American commissioners, as ambassadors of a free and 
 independent nation. How Englafcl must have been slung by this 
 affront, it is not difficult to imagine. 
 
 On the twenty-first of March, the three commissioners were 
 introduced by the count de Vergennes before the throne, whereon 
 was seated the king, Lewis XVI. in the midst of the grandees of his 
 court. In this ceremony, none of those formalities were omitted 
 which it was usual to observe, whenever the kings of France gave 
 audience to the ambassadors of sovereign and independent nations ; 
 
 a truly remarkable event, and such as history, perhaps, affords no 
 example of! Tlf ^^Hricans herein experienced better fortune 
 than other nations that have acquired independence ; as, for example, 
 the Switzers and Dutch, who were not without difficulty, nor till after 
 a long time, acknowledged independent by those very powers that 
 had assisted them to break the yoke of their masters. 
 
 France, having thus dropped the mask, could not but perceive that 
 in the present war she must depend more upon her fleets than upon 
 her armies. She was not unmindful, that an essential part of mari- 
 time war consists in capturing, as well the armed ships of the enemy, 
 to diminish his power, as those of commerce, to exhaust his resources; 
 an object always of primary importance, but most especially such 
 in a war with England. The court of Versailles accordingly deter- 
 mined to employ an incentive that should stimulate the ardor of both 
 officers and crews. It had been usual in France, in order to encou- 
 rage the armaments on cruise, to grant certain recompenses to the 
 captors of ships of war ; and to those of merchant vessels, one third 
 
124 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 of the product of their sale. The king, by a decree of the twenty- 
 eighth of March, ordained that the enemy ships of war and cruisers, 
 which should be taken by his own, should belong in lull and entire 
 property to the commanders, officers and crews, who should have 
 captured them ; and that, in like manner, two thirds of the value of 
 merchant ships arid of their cargoes, should become the property of 
 the captors; the other third, being reserved, to be deposited in the 
 fund destined for the relief of invalid seamen. This decree, signed 
 by the king, and countersigned by the duke de Penthievre, grand- 
 admiral of France, was to have been put in execution the fourth of 
 the following May ; nevertheless, whether Lewis XVI. as some 
 think, swayed by the natural benignity of his character, was reluctant 
 to give the signal for the effusion of blood, or that policy disposed 
 him to wait till the English should have committed the first hos|j/ities, 
 the edict was not published and executed until the beginning of July. 
 
 With a view to prevent the English government, fearing for itself, 
 from being able to send reenforcements to America, regiments were 
 ordered to march from all parts of France upon the coasts that look 
 towards England. Already a formidable army was found assembled, 
 and ready, in all appearance, to be embarked on board the grand arma- 
 ment at Brest, for a descent upon the opposite shore. All the labors 
 of that port were pushed with unfeampled activiiy ; more than thirty 
 ships of the line were already completely equipped there, besides a 
 great number of frigates ; the latter were particularly intended for 
 cruising against the British commerce. Another considerable fleet 
 was about to put to sea from the port of Toulon. 
 
 This sudden resurrection of the French marine was the subject of 
 extreme surprise to all nations, and particularly to England, who, 
 accustomed to domineer upon the ocean^^carcely knew how to 
 believe that there should thus all at onco have risen up a power in 
 condition to contend with her for the sceptre of the seas. In truth, 
 the state of debility into which France had fallen at the epoch of the 
 death of Lewis XIV". not only rendered it impossible to remedy the 
 weakness in which the French navy was left at the conclusion ol the 
 war of the Spanish succession, but it even occasioned those ships 
 which remained to perish in the docks for want of repairs. The wars 
 of Italy, of Flanders and of Germany, which took place under the 
 reign of Lewis XV. by drawing all the efforts and all the resources 
 of the state to the land service, produced a fatal coldness towards the 
 marine department. France contented herself with arming a few- 
 ships, rather to protect her own commerce, than to disturb that of the 
 enemy ; hence disastrous defeats, and losses without number. To all 
 these causes was joined the opinion natural to the inhabitants of 
 France, satisfied with the fertility of their lands, and the multitude of 
 their manufactures, that they have little need of a strong navy and 
 of maritime traffic. But finally the increase of the products of their 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 125 
 
 colonies, and the immense gain they derived from the sale of them 
 in foreign markets, drew tire attention of the French to the im- 
 portance of external commerce. 
 
 They perceived, at the same time, that without a military marine 
 to protect the mercantile, maritime commerce must always be uncer- 
 tain, and consequently sickly and unprofitable ; and that war may 
 destroy, in a few days, the fruits of a long peace. On these consi- 
 derations, the court of France devoted its cares to the creation and 
 maintenance of a fleet sufficiently formidable to command respect 
 during peace, or to make war with success, and protect commerce 
 from the insults of enemy vessels. 
 
 The present American war, which opened so brilliant a perspec- 
 tive to the French, furnished also a powerful incentive to these new 
 designs. In order not to want skilful officers to manage the ships, 
 the seamen of the merchant shipping, in imitation of the example of 
 the English and Dutch, were called into the service of the royal navy. 
 Besides this, in pursuance of a well conceived plan, there were sent 
 out in the years 1772, 1775, and 1776, three fleets, commanded by 
 ihree excellent seamen, the counts d' Orvilliers, De Guichen, and 
 DuchafTault. These excursions served as schools of practice, in 
 which the officers and crews formed themselves to evolutions and 
 manceuvres. In brief, the efforts of the French government were so 
 unremitting, and it was so seconded by the general ardor, that at the 
 commencement of the present war, its navy equalled, if it did not 
 surpass, that of England ; speaking, however, of the fleets which the 
 latter had then fitted for immediate service, or in such forwardness 
 that they could put to sea within a short space of time. Nor was 
 France disposed to keep this navy idle in her ports. The cabinet of 
 Versailles meditated two expeditions equally important ; the one was 
 to be executed by the armament at Brest, the other by the fleet of 
 Toulon. The latter, putting to sea as soon as possible, was to repair 
 with all celerity to America, and suddenly to make its appearance in 
 the waters of the Delaware. 
 
 Hence two events were likely to result, equally pernicious to Great 
 Britain ; namely, that the squadron of lord Howe, which had gone 
 up that river, and which was greatly inferior in force to that of France, 
 would, without any doubt, have been destroyed, or must have fallen 
 into the power of the French. That squadron annihilated or taken, 
 the army under general Clinton, pressed in front by Washington, and 
 in rear by the F/ench fleet thus possessed of the Delaware, would 
 also have been constrained to surrender, or, certainly, would have 
 had an extremely perilous retreat. So decisive a blow must have 
 put an end to the whole American war. This plan of campaign had 
 been debated and agreed upon at Paris, between the commissioners 
 of Congress and the ministry. Nor was the execution of it delayed; 
 on the thirteenth of April the French fleet sailed from Toulon. It 
 
 VOL. II. 17 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX, 
 
 was composed of twelve sail of the line, and four large frigates, and 
 commanded by the count d' Estaing, a man of great valor, and of 
 an active genius. It took out a considerable corps of troops to serve 
 on shore. Silas Deane, one of the American commissioners, who 
 was recalled, and M. Gerard, whom the king had appointed his mi- 
 nister to the United States, was on board. Fortune showed herself 
 favorable to these first essays. The wind seconded the voyage of 
 the fleet ; and, though the British ministry had been promptly advis- 
 ed of its departure, their ignorance of the route taken by the count 
 d' Estaing, and the strong west winds which prevailed for some days, 
 so retarded the decisions of the admiralty, that it was not till the 
 first of June they ordered admiral Byron to make sail with twelve 
 ships for America ; he was to replace lord Howe, who had requested 
 leave to return to England. As for the fleet of Brest, more consi- 
 derable, and commanded by the count d' Ovilliers, who was impa- 
 tient to realise the hopes which had been placed in his talents, it was 
 destined to scour the seas of Europe, in order to keep alive upon 
 the coasts of Great Britain the fear of an invasion. He relied espe- 
 cially upon his frigates, which were very numerous, to intercept the 
 merchant fleets laden with rich cargoes, which the English then 
 expected from the two Indies. Thus things were rapidly verging to 
 an open rupture between the two states, and immediate hostilities 
 were expected, though war was not yet declared on either part, 
 according to the established usages of Europe. Universal attention 
 was roused by the contest going to commence between France and 
 England ; events of moment were expected from the collision of two 
 such powerful nations. Nor was fortune slow to light the first fires 
 of this conflagration, which soon involved the four quarters of the 
 world in its flames. Scarcely had admiral Keppel got out to sea, 
 the thirteenth of June, from St. Helens, and shaped his course for the 
 Bay of Biscay, when he discovered at no great distance, two ships 
 of considerable size, with two other smaller vessels, which appeared 
 to be watching the motions of his fleet. These were the two French 
 frigates called the Licorne and the Belle. Poule. The admiral found 
 himself in a very delicate situation. On the one hand, he desired 
 much to make himself master of the ships, in order to procure infor- 
 mation respecting the state and position of the Brest fleet ; on the 
 other, war was not yet declared between the two nations, and the 
 causing it to break out might be imputed to his temerity. Nor did 
 he find any thing in the instructions of the ministers which could 
 remove his perplexity ; as they were exceedingly loose, and left 
 every thing almost entirely to his discretion. It should be added, that 
 Keppel being of a party in opposition to that of the ministers, his 
 conduct, in case he commenced hostilities, was liable to be interpret- 
 ed unfavorably, since his adversaries might attribute to political mo- 
 tives what appeared to be the inevitable result of circumstances. In 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 127 
 
 this painful embarrassment, Keppel, like the good citizen he was, 
 chose rather to serve his country at his own peril, than to hazard its 
 interest by his indecision. Accordingly, the seventeenth of June, he 
 ordered his ships to give chase to the French. Between five and 
 six in the afternoon, the English frigate Milford came up with the 
 Licorne, and her captain, in very civil terms, summoned the French 
 commander to repair under the stern of admiral Keppel. The 
 Frenchman at first refused; but seeing the Hector ship of- the line 
 come up, which saluted with ball, he submitted to his destiny, and 
 following that vessel, took station in the British fleet. 
 
 During this time, captain Marshall, with his frigate Arethusa, of 
 twenty-eight six pounders, in company with the Alert cutter, was in 
 pursuit of the Belle Poule, which carried twenty-six twelve pounders 
 and was accompanied by a corvette of ten guns. 
 
 The Arethusa being the better sailer, arrived about six in the 
 evening within musket shot of the Belle Poule. Marshall informed 
 the French captain, M. de la Clocheterie, of his orders to bring him 
 under the stern of the admiral. To this, de la Clocheterie returned 
 a spirited refusal. The Arethusa then fired a shot across the Belle 
 Poule, which she returned with a discharge of her broadside. A 
 fierce engagement between the two frigates ensued, animated by 
 an equal emulation, and bent on carrying the victory in this first 
 action, the most extraordinary efforts of resolution were displayed 
 on both sides. The conflict continued for more than two hours, 
 with severe damage to both parties, as the sea was calm, and the 
 vessels extremely near. The French were superior in the weight of 
 metal, the number of their crew, and the proximity of their coasts ; 
 while the English were benefited by the number of guns, and espe- 
 cially, by the presence of two ships of the line, the Valiant and the 
 Monarch ; which, though prevented by the calm from coming up to 
 take part in the action, nevertheless greatly disquieted the French 
 captain, and exceedingly circumscribed his movements. Finally, 
 after an obstinate contest, the English frigate finding herself too close 
 upon the coasts of France, despairing of being able to overpower 
 her adversary, and having sustained much injury in her masts, spars 
 and rigging, profited of a light breeze, which sprung up at that mo- 
 ment, to withdraw. She was afterwards towed off to the fleet by 
 the Valiant and Monarch. During her retreat, the French saluted 
 her with fifty balls ; but she returned them not one. The Belle 
 Poule would even have pursued her, but for the damage she had 
 received herself, besides, the proximity of the two men of war, and 
 even of the whole English armament. 
 
 La Clocheterie thinking it more prudent to consult his safety, went 
 to cast anchor for the night in the midst of the shoals, near Plouascat. 
 The next morning, the two English ships came to reconnoitre his 
 position, and ascertain whether it was possible to approach the frigaia 
 
128 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 near enough to take her. But finding the obstacles of the rocks 
 insuperahle, they abandoned the enterprise and returned to join the 
 fleet. For the same causes, and at the same time, the English cut- 
 ter and the French corvette joined battle with equal fury, but with 
 different success. After an hour of the most vigorous resistance, the 
 corvette surrendered. The Arethusa, iu this action, had eight men 
 killed and thirty-six wounded. The loss of the Belle Poule was 
 forty killed, and fifty-seven wounded. Among the first was M. de 
 St. Marsault, lieutenant of the frigate ; among the second M. de la 
 Roche de Kerandraon, ensign; Bouvet, an auxiliary officer, and M. 
 de la Clocheterie himself, who received two contusions. 
 
 In the morning of the eighteenth, the frigate Licorne, which had 
 been stationed in the middle of the English fleet, having made a 
 movement which gave the English some suspicion, they fired a shot 
 across her way, as a signal to keep in company with the other ships. 
 Immediately, to the great astonishment of the admiral, and of the 
 whole English fleet, she discharged a broadside and a volley of mus- 
 ketry into the America, of sixty-four guns, commanded by lord 
 Longford, which lay the nearest to her. This done, she struck her 
 colors, as if, tired of this middle state between peace and war in 
 which she was kept, she had preferred, though a prisoner, to consti- 
 tute herself in open war. Keppel sent her to Plymouth. In the 
 meantime, another French frigate, named the Pallas, fell in with the 
 English fleet ; the admiral detained her, changing her officers and 
 crew. Such was his conduct with regard to French vessels of war. 
 As to merchant ships, though a great number of them fell within 
 his reach, he permitted them to continue their voyage without inter- 
 ruption, not thinking himself authorised to stop them. 
 
 The action of the Belle Poule excited no little enthusiasm in 
 France, where the remembrance of so many defeats was still recent ; 
 and it is unquestionable that the officers and all the crew of that 
 frigate had signalised as much valor as nautical ability. Their con- 
 duct occasioned a sincere joy, and it was diligently extolled, in order 
 to animate the public mind by these brilliant beginnings. The king 
 showed himself lavish of favors towards those who had fought ; he 
 appointed M. de la Clocheterie captain of ship ; Bouvet, lieutenant 
 of frigate ; and gave the cross of Saint Lewis to Roche Kerandraon. 
 Pensions were granted to the sister of Saint Marsault, to the 
 widows, and to the children of those who had fallen in the action. 
 The English were not so generous towards captains Marshall, and 
 Fairfax, commander of the cutter ; but they received the encomiums 
 of the admiralty and of their fellow-citizens. 
 
 But the king of France, considering the affair of the Belle Poule, 
 and the seizure of other frigates, as a sufficient motive for executing 
 his projects, ordered reprisals against the vessels of Great Britain. 
 He immediately caused to be published his decree concerning prizes. 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 129 
 
 as if the sending of the count d' Estaing to America, with such orders 
 as he was the bearer of, was not yet to be reputed a commence- 
 ment of war. The English went through the same formalities, thus 
 authorising by words what they had already done, at least with re- 
 gard to ships of war. Until this time, the two parties had endea- 
 vored to harm each other by all possible means, without resulting to 
 the accustomed declarations. 
 
 The papers found aboard the French frigates, and the questions 
 put to the prisoners, furnished admiral Keppel with important intel- 
 ligence. He learned that in the port of Brest were thirty-two ships 
 of the line, with ten or twelve frigates, all in complete readiness to 
 put to sea ; whereas all his own force consisted in twenty sail of the 
 line and three frigates. He found himself already in sight of the 
 Isle of Ouessant, and consequently near the coasts of France. His 
 position was truly embarrassing. The proximity and superiority of 
 the enemy rendered his present station imminently perilous. To 
 encounter the hazards of a battle which might expose the safety of 
 the kingdom, was rather an act of temerity, than a courageous reso- 
 lution. On the other hand, to retire from the coasts of an enemy 
 lie had braved a moment since, appeared to him a step too unworthy 
 of his own reputation, and of the English name. But, finally, con- 
 sulting utility more than appearances, and his duty rather than the 
 point of honor, he tacked about for England, and entered Portsmouth 
 the twenty-seventh of June. 
 
 Immediately, some from the spirit of party, and in order to excul- 
 pate the ministers, others to appease the national pride, pulled him 
 to pieces without mercy. It might have seemed that his retreat had 
 sullied the glory of England ; and some were so transported by their 
 iury as to compare Keppel to Byng. The admiral supported with 
 admirable constancy the outrages of the multitude, and the invectives 
 of the party who excited them. He busied himself only with the 
 means of reenforcing his fleet, and of putting it in condition to scour 
 the seas anew; the admiralty powerfully seconded his zeal, and the 
 success corresponded to his exertions. The first divisions of the 
 East and West India fleets arrived about that time, and furnished a 
 great number of excellent seamen to the naval armament. Thus 
 reenforced, it weighed anchor and put to sea the ninth of July. It 
 was composed of twenty-four ships of the line, which were afterwards 
 joined by six more of the same class. It comprehended a ship of 
 one hundred guns, named the Victory, which bore the admiral's flag, 
 six of ninety, one of eighty, and fifteen of seventy-four ; the rest 
 were of sixty-four. 
 
 They were all well manned and equipped, and commanded by 
 excellent officers. The frigates were insufficient in number ; there 
 were only five or six, with two fire-ships. The fleet was divided into 
 three squadrons ; the van was commanded by sir Robert Harland, 
 
130 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 vice-admiral of the Red ; the centre by admiral Keppel, assisted by 
 admiral Campbell, a consummate seaman, who, on the score of an- 
 cient friendship, had chosen to accompany him as the first captain 
 of the Victory. The rear was conducted by sir Hugh Palliser, vice- 
 admiral of the Blue, and one of the members of the board of admi- 
 ralty. Finding themselves so strong, and no longer doubting of 
 victory, the English made their appearance upon the coasts of 
 France. 
 
 They sought the French fleet with all diligence, impatient to give 
 it battle, in order to preserve their commerce, to efface the dishonor 
 of having a few days before yielded the sea to the enemy ; finally. 
 to sustain their ancient renown, and to cause fortune to incline in their 
 favor from the very commencement of hostilities. Meanwhile, the 
 French fleet had also come out of port the eighth of July. It was in 
 like manner formed in three divisions ; the first commanded by the 
 count DuchafFault, the centre by the count d'Orvilliers, captain-general, 
 and the third by the duke de Chartres, prince of the blood, who was 
 seconded and guided by admiral de la Motte Piquet. These three 
 divisions comprised thirty-two sail of the line, among which were 
 the admiral's ship, la Bretagne, of one hundred and ten guns, la 
 Ville de Paris, of ninety, which carried the count de Guichen ; two 
 of eighty, twelve of seventy-four, one of seventy, two of sixty -four, 
 one of sixty, and two of fifty, besides a great number of frigates. 
 It was the intention of the count d' Orvilliers not to come to an 
 engagement except with great probabilities of success ; and this by 
 no means for want of an intrepid valor, and of a perfect know- 
 ledge of naval tactics ; but he chose first to exercise his crews 
 thoroughly. He hoped, also, without exposing himself to the hazards 
 of an action, to give England some severe blows, by employing his 
 light vessels to capture the convoys which she daily expected from 
 the two Indies. He shaped his course for the Isle of Ouessant, in 
 the full persuasion that the British fleet, which he supposed to con- 
 sist but of twenty sail of the line, would not presume to venture out 
 of port, or if it showed itself, that he should certainly defeat or 
 disperse it, and that, in all events, he should acquire the dominion of 
 the sea. Fortune appeared to favor these first efforts ; scarcely had 
 he quitted the road of Brest, when he discovered the English frigate, 
 the Lively, which admiral Keppel had detached upon discovery ; he 
 ordered her to be chased, and she was soon taken. The entire 
 world was attentive to what might ensue, on seeing the two most 
 potent nations of Europe marshalled the one against the other, on 
 the ocean. To this object, and not in vain, had the government of 
 France aimed all its calculations for several years back. Its ships 
 were completely equipped, its seamen well trained, its captains 
 excellent. It, remained only that fortune should smile upon such 
 magnanimous designs. The two fleets came in sight of each other 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. lot 
 
 in the evening of the twenty-third of July, the Isle of Ouessant being 
 thirty leagues distant, and the wind at west. The count d' Orvil- 
 liers, believing the enemy weaker than he was in reality, desired 
 impatiently to bring him to action. But on approaching the British 
 fleet, and finding it nearly as strong as his own, he avoided an 
 engagement no less cautiously than he had eagerly sought it at first. 
 As he had the advantage of the wind, it was impossible for the 
 English to force him to it, against his will. During the night, two 
 French ships were driven by the force of the wind to the leeward of 
 the British fleet. Admiral Keppel having perceived it in the morn- 
 ing, made signal to give chase and cut them off from the main body 
 of their fleet. He hoped that in order to save them, the French 
 admiral would give him battle, or at least that these ships would 
 be taken, or so forced out of their course that it would be impos- 
 sible for them to rejoin their fleet. The count d' Orvilliers prefer- 
 red not to make any movement to succour them ; and thus the 
 two vessels, though they had the good fortune to escape the English, 
 were chased so far, that they could take no pah in the events which 
 followed. 
 
 During the four following days the two fleets remained in sight ; 
 the British admiral endeavoring all the time to get the wind, or to 
 beat up so near the French fleet as to force it to action. But to 
 arrive at this object, it was impossible to maintain the disposition 
 entire ; and therefore Keppel had commanded that the ships should 
 take rank according to their swiftness, as they gained to the wind- 
 ward, with attention, however, to keep their distances as much as 
 possible. This movement was also necessary, in order not. to lose 
 sight of the enemy. But it was not without danger, since it might 
 offer the French an occasion to fall suddenly with superior force 
 upon some one of the English ships. It was also the cause, that on 
 the twenty-seventh, the day of battle, the French fleet was formed 
 in better order than that of England, which 'appeared deranged. 
 On the morning of that day, the wind continuing from the west, and 
 favoring the French, the two fleets were separated, one from the 
 other, a distance of only three leagues, in such manner, however, 
 that the English rear found itself a little more to the leeward than 
 the centre and van. Keppel therefore ordered Palliser, who com- 
 manded it, to press up to the windward in order to form in a line 
 with the two other divisions of the fleet. Palliser executed the 
 orders of the admiral. This movement induced the count d' Orvil- 
 liers, to believe, and perhaps not without reason, as Palliser con- 
 tinued to crowd more and more to the windward, that it was the 
 intention of the enemy to attack the French rear, and to gain on the 
 opposite tack the weathergage of that division. To defeat this 
 manoeuvre, he directly put his ships about, and reversing his order 
 
132 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK IX. 
 
 of battle, his rear became van. This very movement, together with 
 some variations in the wind, of which the English dexterously availed 
 themselves, brought the two fleets so near each other, that the 
 action commenced immediately, the wind blowing from the west, 
 and the French running from north to south, the English from south 
 to north. This manner of combating, by which a close and station- 
 ary action was avoided, the ships firing only as they passed each 
 other in opposite directions, was the result of the mano3uvre just 
 made by the French fleet. 
 
 It suited the count d' Orvilliers so much the better, as since he 
 had not been able to decline the engagement, it assured him, at 
 least, that it could not be decisive. For it was a necessary conse- 
 quence of this order of battle, that the two fleets must break their 
 line during the action, and that the party who should have sustained 
 the least damage, could not immediately pursue their advantages, 
 whether against any particular ship of the enemy, or against his 
 entire fleet. The two fleets thus standing on opposite tacks, and 
 but a slight distance apart, the first ships of the English van, and 
 those of the French rear, which, as we have said, was become the 
 van, began to exchange broadsides, and the battle was joined suc- 
 cessively, as the whole English line passed close along side of the 
 whole French line ; so that the rear, commanded by sir Hugh Palli- 
 ser, and the van by the count Duchaffault, were the last to attack 
 each other. The effects of this collision were very destructive on 
 both sides ; but as the French, according to their custom, had fired 
 at the tackling, and the English, as they usually do, at the body of 
 the ships, the hulls of the French vessels were more severely dam- 
 aged, than those of their enemies ; whereas the English were much 
 the greater sufferers in their masts, yards, and rigging. The French, 
 profiting of this advantage of their sails, soon tacked and formed 
 their line anew. The British van and centre also in a short time 
 recovered their stations, though the admiral's ship had suffered 
 extremely. But the ships of Palliser and "several others, not only 
 had not yet tacked, but being in a disabled condition, they obeyed 
 the wind and fell rapidly to leeward. In this state of things, whe- 
 ther the count d' Orvilliers intended, as the English pretend, to cut 
 their line, and separate these ships from the rest of the fleet, or, as 
 the French affirm, wishing to place himself under the wind, in order, 
 as he expected a second battle, to deprive the English of the advan- 
 tage he would thus gain for himself, of using the lower batteries with 
 effect, he made signals for all his fleet to advance by a successive 
 movement, and penetrate between the ships of Keppel and those of 
 Palliser. 
 
 The English admiral, perceiving the design of -his adversary, 
 immediately put his ships about, and stood athwart the enemy's 
 
BOOK IX. THE AMERICAN WAR. 133 
 
 foremost division, directing "at the same time sir Robert Harland to 
 form his division in a line astern, in order to lace the enemy, till sir 
 Hugh Palliser could bring up his ships. It is not clear, whether 
 this movement of Keppel frustrated the project of the count d' Orvil- 
 liers, for intercepting Pulliser's division, or whether it was merely 
 tiie intention of that admiral to get under the wind ; hut certain it is, 
 that in consequence of this evolution the English remained to the 
 windward. It was therefore in their power to renew the battle, 
 provided, however, that all their ships had been in condition to take 
 part in the action ; and this would have been the wish of Keppel. 
 But the squadron of Palliser, since the admiral and Harland had 
 thrown themselves between him and the French, to whom they were 
 now very near, found itself to the windward. of the other divisions, 
 and of course, remote from the French fleet, and little within reach 
 to be of any assistance in case of a new engagement. On this con- 
 sideration, Keppel made a signal for all the ships to the windward to 
 resume their respective posts in the order of battle. Here a mistake 
 happened, which prevented the execution of his orders. Palliser's 
 ship, the Formidable, not having repeated the signal, the captains of 
 the other ships understood that of Keppel as an order to rally in 
 the wake of the commander of their own division, which they did 
 accordingly. 
 
 Meanwhile, the French continued drawn up, to leeward, in order 
 of battle. Keppel renewed the same signal, but with no better suc- 
 cess. Afterwards, about five in the evening, [Palliser says at seven,] 
 he commanded the captain of the frigate, Fox, to convey to Palliser 
 a verbal message of the same import as the order he had already 
 intimated by signals. It was still in vain ; neither the Formidable 
 nor the other ships obeyed. On seeing this, and the day far spent, 
 Keppel made the signal to each of the ships of Palliser to resume 
 their stations in the line ; excepting, however, the Formidable, 
 apparently from a certain regard to the rank, and particular functions 
 of the vice-admiral. This time, his orders were executed ; but 
 night came, and put an end to all possibility of further operations 
 against the enemy. 
 
 Such are the causes which prevented admiral Keppel from .renew- 
 ing the battle ; whether the disobedience of Palliser proceeded from 
 the impossibility of managing his ships, disabled in the engagement, 
 as seems probable, and as the court martial decided, in the solemn, 
 trial which followed, or that it was owing to any personal pique of 
 that officer, who, being of the ministerial party, was politically at 
 variance with Keppel. Be this as it may, the French thence took 
 occasion to say, that from noon till night they offered battle to Kep- 
 pel, who would not accept it. The fact in itself is incontestable ; 
 but as to the intentions of the Briti?'* admiral, it is certain that ha 
 A*OL. ir. 18 
 
134 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK IX. 
 
 was well disposed to recommence the action, but was prevented by 
 the obstacles we have just related. 
 
 Satisfied with their conduct in this combat, and with its issue, 
 which might be represented as a victory, a thing so important at this 
 first epoch of the war, or finding the condition of their fleet too shat- 
 tered to warrant their exposing themselves to the hazards of a second 
 battle, the French profited in the night of a fair wind to recover their 
 own coasts ; and entered the next day with full sails into the port of 
 Brest. They had, however, left in the place of battle, three ships 
 with lights at the mast heads, to deceive the English into the belief 
 that all their fleet was still there. At break of day, the French fleet 
 was already at such a distance that it was only discernible from the 
 mast heads of the largest ships in the British fleet ; nothing remained 
 in sight but the three vessels above mentioned. Keppel ordered the 
 Prince George, the Robust, and another ship, to give them chase, 
 but as they were good sailers, and the English had suffered extreme- 
 ly in their sails and rigging, this pursuit was fruitless. Admiral 
 Keppel made the best of his way to Plymouth, where he purposed 
 to repair the damages of his fleet ; he left, however, some ships that 
 had suffered the least, to protect the British trade, and especially the 
 fleets which were expected. 
 
 The English, in this action, had one hundred and forty killed, 
 and about four hundred wounded. The loss of the French is 
 uncertain ; but it is probable that it exceeded that of the English. 
 Some private authorities lead to this belief, as also the throng of 
 sailors and marines with which they are accustomed to fill their 
 vessels. 
 
 The two fleets proceeded again to sea the next month. But 
 whether they mutually sought to meet each other, as they gave out, 
 or that each endeavored to avoid the other, as it was reciprocally 
 asserted, it is certain that they did not meet again. It is equally 
 indisputable that the trade of England was effectually protected ; 
 while, on the other hand, an immense number of French vessels 
 with rich and valuable cargoes, fell into the power of the enemy. 
 These losses excited the complaints of the cities of Bordeaux, Nantz, 
 Saint Malo, and Havre de Grace. 
 
 Such was the issue of the battle of Ouessant, which commenced 
 the European war. The English observed in it, to their great sur- 
 prise, that the French riot only fought with their accustomed valor, 
 but that they displayed also no ordinary dexterity in profiting of the 
 advantage of wind, in the management of their ships, and in their 
 naval evolutions. Hence they could not but infer, that if they ob- 
 tained successes in the present war, they would have to pay dearer 
 for them than in the last. 
 
 Public rejoicings were made in France, to animate the people, 
 and inspire them with better hopes. The impression was quite 
 
BOOK IX. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 135 
 
 different in England ; some complained of Keppel, others of Palli- 
 ser, according to the various humors of the parties ; all of fortune. 
 After certain warm discussions, the admiral and vice-admiral were 
 both put upon trial ; but both were acquitted ; the first, to the uni- 
 versal exultation of the people ; the second to the particular gratifi- 
 cation of the friends of the ministry. 
 
 END OP BOOK NINTH. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 
136 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 BOOK TENTH. 
 
 1778. THE unfortunate issue of the war of Canada, an<J the inu- 
 tility of the advantages obtained in the campaign of Pennsylvania, 
 had at length shaken the obstinacy of the British ministers. They 
 began to believe that it was impossible to reduce the Americans by 
 force of arms; and everyday confirmed them in this persuasion, 
 since France, so powerful by land and by sea, had united her forces 
 to those of the Congress. It was too manifest to be doubted, that if 
 the Americans had been able to withstand, in the preceding campaign, 
 the utmost efforts of England, it would be infinitely more easy for 
 them to resist in future ; their union being more consolidated by time, 
 their hopes secured by propitious fortune, and their arms seconded 
 by those of a formidable potentate. Besides, it was no longer to be 
 hoped that as many troops could be sent to America in future years 
 as had been sent thither in the past. For, without reference to the 
 almost absolute impossibility of procuring more German troops, and 
 the extreme slowness of recruiting in England, there was to be feared 
 an invasion of the French, in the very heart of the kingdom, and 
 moreover, it was necessary to throw strong garrisons into the West 
 India islands, to shelter them from the assaults of the French, who 
 were known to have a respectable force in their vicinity. It was no 
 mystery in the British cabinet, that the principal object which the 
 French were aiming at in the present war, after ihe separation of 
 America from Great Britain, was the conquest of the rich colonies of 
 England in the West Indies ; and that in anticipation of events, they 
 had assembled numerous troops in their own possessions. The 
 English islands of the West Indies thus found themselves exposed, 
 almost without defence, to the attempts of the enemy. Whether the 
 ministers had believed that war with France was not likely to break 
 out immediately, or that they had relied upon their sanguine hopes of 
 a complete triumph in the preceding campaign, they had flattered 
 themselves that in any event, their victories upon the American con- 
 tinent would enable them to pass into their islands in good time, all 
 the succours that could be necessary. Jealousy was also entertained 
 of Canada, not only on the part of the Americans, but also, and munh 
 more, on that of the French ; for the Canadians were more French 
 than English, and the memory of their origin appeared to be still 
 dear them. It was therefore necessary to leave in that province such 
 garrisons as could answer for it. These various considerations, not 
 only rendered it impracticable to reenforce the armies \\liirh acted 
 against the United States; but even imposed the necessity of weak- 
 ening them by detachments for the different exigencies of the service. 
 But, on the other hand, the courage of the ministers did not desert 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 137 
 
 them. They hoped that offers of accommodation, a new mode of 
 conducting the war, and, perhaps, victories over France, would ena- 
 ble them to compass that which by arms alone they had hitherto 
 failed to obtain. They persuaded themselves that the Americans, 
 tired of a long war, and finding their resources exhausted, would 
 readily consent to an arrangement ; or that, even if the Congress 
 refused, the greater part of the nation, at least, would manifest an 
 eagerness to listen to their proposals ; and already they beheld intes- 
 tine dissentions opening the way to the reestablishment of ancient 
 relations, if not an absolute subjugation. 
 
 To provide for this consummation, the clause had been added to 
 the act of conciliation, which empowered the commissioners to treat, 
 not on ! ly with any public authority, but even with every description of 
 private citizens whatsoever. After having encountered an obstinate 
 resistance in the inhabitants of the northern provinces, they had been 
 assured by the refugees in whom they put all their trust, that they 
 would find far more pliable matter in those of the south, They de- 
 termined accordingly to make these the seat of the war, in the hope, 
 that as they abounded more in subjects devoted to the crown, they 
 would manifest greater repugnance to combating the troops of the 
 king, and more inclination to listen to his negotiators. Besides, the 
 fertile lands and exuberant pasturage of these provinces, rendered 
 them extremely accommodate for the subsistence of armies, at the 
 same time that the inhabitants would have a motive in this very abun- 
 dance the more to dread the devastations inseparable from war. But 
 whatever was the foundation of these hopes, the ministers were resolv- 
 ed to resume hostilities as soon as the negotiations should cease to 
 promise any result, in order to avoid the appearance of yielding to the 
 threats of France. Without allowing themselves to be intimidated 
 by the consequences which might attend the war with America, they 
 considered themselves bound by that regard which every state owes 
 to its own honor and dignity, to try yet for a time the fortune of 
 arms. If it proved necessary at last to acknowledge the independ- 
 ence of Anaerica, which was become the principal point in contest, 
 they thought it could never be too late for that, and they reputed it 
 better to submit honorably to adverse fortune and the decision of the 
 sword, than to bow ignominiously, and without combat, to the mena- 
 ces of an arrogant enemy. Such were the motives which influenced 
 the British ministers in the present period of the war, and which were 
 afterwards the basis of all their resolutions. But perfectly sensible 
 that if England made no new overtures, the Congress would not fail 
 to ratify the treaty contracted with France, and that it would become 
 then much more difficult for that body to retract its resolutions, the 
 British ministers hastened to transmit to America the bill of concilia- 
 tion, even before it had yet been approved in parliament. They 
 flattered themselves that the Americans thus finding that England 
 
138 THE AMERICAN WAkJ ' BOOK X. 
 
 renounced what had heen the first and capital cause of the differ- 
 
 ences, that is, the right of taxation, all other difficulties would be 
 
 promptly smoothed, and the ratification of the treaty readily prevented. 
 
 This first point gained, the commissioners would only have had, as it 
 
 were, to appear, in order to affix the seal to a definitive arrangement. 
 
 Accordingly, copies of the bill were received at New York about the 
 
 middle of the month of April. Governor Tryon, a shrewd and act- 
 
 ive man, as we have seen, after having caused it to be published in 
 
 the city, found means to circulate it among the Americans, much 
 
 extolling the good dispositions of the government towards America. 
 
 He wrote at the same time to general Washington, and to Trumbull, 
 
 the governor of New Jersey, requesting them, a thing really without 
 
 example, to bring this project of an act of parliament to the know- 
 
 ledge of soldiers, and of inhabitants. Washington referred the whole 
 
 to the Congress, that they might take the proper measures. Trum- 
 
 bull replied to Tryon in a very energetic style, that he was not a little 
 
 surprised at this strange mode of negotiation between two nations ; 
 
 that in similar cases, demands and propositions are addressed, not to 
 
 the multitude, but to those who govern ; that there had been a time, 
 
 indeed, when such a proposal of the mother country might have been 
 
 received with alacrity and gratitude, but that such time was irrevoca- 
 
 bly elapsed. He reminded of petitions rejected, hostilities com- 
 
 menced and prosecuted with so much barbarity on the part of the 
 
 English, their insolence in good fortune, the cruelties exercised 
 
 against prisoners, injuries which had interposed an insuperable obsta- 
 
 cle to reconciliation. ' Peace/ he added, ' cannot subsist but with 
 
 our independence. The English will then find the Americans as 
 
 sincere friends, as they are now determined and dangerous enemies. 
 
 If they would have peace, let them abandon all insidious procedures, 
 
 and demand it openly of those who can grant it.' Meanwhile, the 
 
 Congress, on receipt of their general's despatches, deliberated upon 
 
 the step they had to take. 
 
 Considering themselves as already sure of the assistance of France, 
 and indignant at these new machinations of the English, they decreed 
 that any men, or body of men, whatsoever, who should presume to 
 make any separate or partial convention or agreement with commis- 
 sioners under the crown of Great Britain, should be reputed and 
 treated as enemies of the United States ; that these states could not 
 enter into any conference or treaty with the agents of Great Britain, 
 except they should, as a preliminary thereto, either withdraw their 
 fleets and armies, or else in positive and express terms acknowledge 
 the independence of the United States. Finally, it being the design of 
 the enemy to lull the inhabitants of America, by this soothing sound of 
 peace, into a neglect of warlike preparations, it was earnestly recom- 
 mended to the different states to use the most strenuous exertions to 
 have their respective quotas of continental troops in the field as soon 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 as possible ; and that all the militia of the said states might be held in 
 readiness to act as occasion might require. The Congress then, in. 
 order to show of how little importance they esteemed the f bills of par- 
 liament, and the intrigues of Tryon to diffuse them, embraced the 
 generous counsel of causing them to be published in the public prints, 
 together with the resolutions they had just passed. 
 
 But on the other hand, under the apprehension that many of those 
 who had hitherto attached themselves to the English party, in de- 
 spair of finding pardon in their country, might not only persist in their 
 obstinacy, but profiting of the amnesty offered by the British govern- 
 ment, might also employ their influence to draw over to its interest 
 even such as had remained faithful to the common cause, they pass- 
 ed a resolution, recommending to the several states, to grant a full 
 remission of all guilt and penalties, except the restrictions they might 
 deem necessary, to all those who had borne arms against the United 
 Slates, or assisted the enemy in any way whatsoever. Each indi- 
 vidual was assured of pardon for the offences he might have com- 
 mitted up to that time, and the citizens were invited to a mutual 
 forgiveness and oblivion of past wrongs and injuries. 
 
 But the English soldiers, in America, strangers to the political 
 considerations by which states are guided, and bitterly irritated at 
 the obstinate resistance of the Americans, were inconceivably shocked 
 at hearing of the unexpected resolutions of the ministers. They 
 were for absolute conquest, and submission without reserve. They 
 could not endure this shameful condescension; they asked why 
 this ignominious retraction, why this solicitude to offer what at first 
 was refused with so much pertinacity ? They expected, upon the 
 faith of promises, a reenforcement of twenty thousand of their fellow- 
 soldiers, and they received in their stead, acts of concession. The 
 discontent was so extreme in the camp, as to manifest itself in sedi- 
 tious words, and acts of violence ; the soldiers in their fury presumed 
 even to rend their colors ; others, and principally the Scotch, tore in 
 pieces tiie acts of parliament. If such was the indignation of the 
 British troops, it is easy to conceive what was the despair of the 
 American refugees. They saw blasted in a moment their confident 
 hopes of returning victorious to their habitations ; and perhaps some 
 of them gnashed at finding themselves frustrated of intended ven- 
 geance. 
 
 With so much industry and so little fruit did the agents of England, 
 labor in America, to conciliate minds towards the mother country ; 
 and with so much energy and success did the Congress endeavor to 
 baffle all their efforts ! 
 
 The second of May was the day destined to carry to its utmost 
 height the exultation of the Americans, and to put the seal to the 
 dismemberment of the vast and powerful British empire. On this 
 day arrived at Casco Bay, the French frigate La Sensible, com- 
 
140 THE AMERICAN WAR. 1300K X. 
 
 mantled by M. de Marigny. She had been selected as an excellent 
 sailer, to bear to the Congress the treaties concluded with France ; 
 she had departed from Brest the eighth of March, having on board 
 Sitnon Deane, brother of Silas. She brought, besides, happy news 
 of all the European continent, and of an unanimity still more sincere 
 than ever, of the people and of the princes in favor of America. 
 The Congress was immediately convened ; we shall not attempt to 
 describe their satisfaction and alacrity at the sight of the treaties. 
 They were ratified as soon as read. Unable to control the flush oc- 
 casioned by so great an event, they forgot the rules of prudence. New 
 states too frequently err in this ; allowing themselves to be hurried 
 away by an inconsiderate ardor, and impatient to communicate it to 
 the people they govern, they are betrayed into impolitic steps. In 
 this respect, widely different from ancient States ; these, always cir- 
 cumspect and wrapped up in mystery, are reluctant to break silence 
 even when every thing appears to exact it. The Congress at once 
 made public the despatches they had just received ; this disclosure 
 was disagreeable to several powers, and especially to Spain, who 
 would have chosen not to declare herself before the appointed time. 
 The proclamation issued to that effect, spoke, not only of the treaty of 
 commerce concluded with France, but even of the treaty of alliance ; 
 it announced, without any reserve, that the emperor of Germany, the 
 kings of Spain and Prussia, were determined to support them ; that 
 the king of Prussia, in particular, would not permit that the troops 
 levied in Hesse and Hanau should pass through his territories in 
 order to embark in the English vessels, and that he would be the 
 second potentate in Europe who would acknowledge the independ- 
 ence of America ; that fifty thousand French were marched upon 
 the coasts of Normandy and of Brittany ; and, finally, that the navies 
 of France and Spain, (as if the intervention of this power was already 
 secured) amounted to two hundred ships, ready to sail for the suc- 
 cour of America. The Congress afterwards drew up and published 
 a solemn address to* the people of America; this piece was wrought 
 with much care, though a little strange from its tumid style, and the 
 religious sentences with which it w ? as interspersed. It was recom- 
 mended to all ministers of the gospel, of whatever denomination, to 
 read this address to their congregations, immediately after divine 
 service. It represented in the most vivid colors the vicissitudes of 
 the state in the course of the late years ; the virtue, the courage, the 
 patience of the Americans ; the perfidy, the injustice, the cruelty, 
 the tyranny of the English ; the assistance of God visibly afforded to 
 the just, cause ; and the ancient weakness of the colonies succeeded 
 by their present security. ' The haughty prince*' continued the 
 address, i who spurned us from his feet with contumely and disdain, 
 and the parliament which proscribed us, now descend to offer terms 
 of accommodation. 
 
I 
 
 BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 141 
 
 ( Whilst in the full career of victory, they pulled off the mask, and 
 avowed their intended despotism. But having lavished in vain the 
 blood and treasure of their subjects in pursuit of this execrable pur- 
 pose, they now endeavor to ensnare us with the insidious offers of 
 reconciliation. They intend to lull you with fallacious hopes of 
 peace, until they can assemble new armies to prosecute their nefarious 
 designs. If this is not the case, why do they strain every nerve to 
 levy men throughout their islands f why do they meanly court every 
 little tyrant of Europe to sell them his unhappy slaves ? why do they 
 continue to imbitter the minds of the savages against you ? Surely 
 this is not the way to conciliate the affections of America. Be not, 
 therefore, deceived. You have still to expect one severe conflict. 
 Your foreign alliances, though they secure your independence, can- 
 not secure your country from desolation, your habitations from 
 plunder, your wives from insult or violation, nor your children from 
 butchery. Foiled in their principal design, you must expect to feel 
 the rage of disappointed ambition. Arise then ! to your tents ! and 
 gird you for battle ! It is time to turn the headlong current of ven- 
 geance upon the head of the destroyer. They have rilled up the 
 measure of their abominations, and like ripe fruit must soon drop 
 from the tree. Although much is done, yet much remains to do. 
 Expect not peace, whilst any corner of America is in possession of 
 your foes. You must drive them away from this land of promise, a 
 land flowing indeed with milk and honey. Your brethren at the 
 extremities of the continent, already implore your friendship and 
 protection. It is your duty to grant their request. They hunger and 
 thirst after liberty. Be it yours to dispense to them the heavenly 
 gift, " since a kind Providence has placed it in your power." : 
 
 The Congress also published those articles of the treaty of amity 
 and commerce which related to the reciprocal intercourse between 
 the two nations, to the end that the inhabitants of the United States 
 might govern themselves conformably to the same. They exhorted 
 them to consider the French as their brethren, and to behave 
 towards them with the friendship and attention due to the subjects 
 of a great prince, who with the highest magnanimity and wisdom had 
 treated with the United States on terms of perfect equality and 
 mutual advantage* thereby rendering himself the protector of the 
 rights of mankind. 
 
 Great were the rejoicings in -all parts of the United States ; the 
 name of Lewis XVI. was in all mouths. Every where he was pro- 
 claimed the protector of liberty, the defender of America, the savior 
 of the country. These joyful tidings were announced with great 
 solemnity to the army, which slill occupied the camp of Valley 
 Forge ; the soldifcrs were under arms, and all the corps formed in 
 order of battle. 
 
 VOL. ii. 19 
 
142 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 Meanwhile, the three pacificatory commissioners, Carlisle, Eden, 
 and Johnstone had arrived in the waters of the Delaware at the 
 beginning of June ; they repaired to Philadelphia the ninth. Gene- 
 ral Clinton notified their arrival to Washington, praying him to send 
 a passport to doctor Ferguson, secretary of the commissioners, that 
 he might without danger deliver their despatches to the Congress. 
 Washington refused tiie passport, and his refusal ohtained the special 
 approbation of the government. The commissioners then decided 
 to forward their letters by the ordinary post. The Congress received 
 them in their sitting of the thirteenth, with an express from Washing- 
 ton. They were read to certain words in the letter directed * to his 
 excellency Henry Laurens, the president and others, the members 
 of Congress.' No sooner were they heard, than a violent clamor 
 arose ; many members exclaimed that the reading ought to be inter- 
 rupted on account of the offensive language against his most Christian 
 majesty. 
 
 The words were these, { We cannot but remark the insidious in- 
 terposition of a power, which has from the first settlement of the 
 colonies been actuated with enmity to us both ; and notwithstanding 
 the pretended date or present form of the French offers to North 
 America, it is notorious that they have only been made, because it 
 was believed that Great Britain had conceived the design of an 
 amicable arrangement, and with a view to prevent reconciliation, and 
 prolong this destructive war.' After animated debates, the further 
 consideration of the subject was adjourned to the next sitting. The 
 question was agitated with tjual vehemence the following days. 
 Finally, the Congress having demonstrated by the warmth of this 
 discussion the respect they bore to their august ally, reflected on the 
 other hand, that it was more prudent to answer than to keep silence. 
 It was easy to lay before the people such motives as were likely to 
 dissuade them from accepting the proposals of England, whereas a 
 refusal to notice them might occasion discontents prejudicial to the 
 state. They determined accordingly to read the despatches of the 
 commissioners. They consisted in the letter addressed to the 
 president of Congress, a copy of their commission, and three acts of 
 parliament. The commissioners offered in their J^ler more than would 
 Lave been required in the origin of the quarrel, to appease the minds 
 of the colonists and reestablish tranquillity ; but less than was neces- 
 sary at present to obtain peace. They-endeavored to persuade the 
 Americans that the conditions of the arrangement were not only 
 favorable, but also perfectly sure, and of such a nature that the two 
 parties would know for the future upon what footing they were to 
 live together ; that their friendship would thus be established upon 
 solid bases, as it should be, in order to be durable. They declared 
 themselves ready to consent to an immediate cessation of hostilities 
 by sea and land ; to restore a free intercourse, and to renew the 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 143 
 
 common benefits of naturalisation throughout the several parts of the 
 empire ; to extend every freedom to trade that the respective inte- 
 rests of both parties could require ; to agree that no military force 
 should be kept up in the different states of North America, without 
 the consent of the General Congress, or of the particular assemblies; 
 to concur in such measures as would be requisite to discharge the 
 dehts of America, and to raise the credit and the value of the paper 
 circulation ; to perpetuate the common union by a reciprocal deputa- 
 tion of agents from the different states, who should have th? privilege 
 of a seat and voice in the parliament of Great Britain ; or if sent 
 from Britain, in that case, to have a seat and voice in the assembly 
 of the different states to which they might be deputed respectively ; 
 in order to attend to the several interests of those by whom they 
 were deputed ; to establish the right and power of the respective 
 legislatures in each particular state, of settling its revenue and its 
 civil and military establishment, and of exercising a perfect freedom 
 of legislation and internal government, so that the British states 
 throughout North America, acting with those of Europe in peace 
 and war, under one common sovereign, might havethe irrevocable 
 enjoyment of every privilege that was short of a total separation of 
 interest, or consistent with that union of force on which the security 
 of British religion and liberty depended. 
 
 Finally, the commissioners expressed their desire to open confer- 
 ences with Congress, or with some of its members, either at New 
 York, at Philadelphia, or at Yorktovvn, or in such other place as it 
 might please the Congress to appoint? 
 
 Thus, to terminate a war, already pushed to a great length, those 
 who in its origin would hear of nothing short of the absolute reduc- 
 tion of America, abated all the rigor of their conditions. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Congress took into serious consideration the state 
 of affairs. The debates that ensued upon this subject, were drawn 
 into length ; not that any individual thought of renouncing independ- 
 ence, but all took an interest in the form of the answer to be given to 
 the commissioners. The discussion was continued until the seven- 
 teenth of June. On that day the Congress answered with as much 
 conciseness as digffcy ; they already felt how greatly their position 
 was meliorated by the success of their arms and the alliance of 
 France.' Their reply purported, that the acts of the British parlia- 
 ment, the very commission of the agents, and their letters to Con- 
 gress supposed the people of the United States to be subjects of the 
 crown of Great Britain, and were founded on the idea of depend- 
 ence, which was utterly inadmissible ; that, nevertheless, the Ame- 
 ricans were inclined to peace, notwithstanding the unjust claims 
 from which the war had originated, and the savage manner in which 
 it had been conducted. That Congress would therefore be ready 
 to enter upon the consideration of a treaty of peace and commerce. 
 
144 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 not inconsistent with treaties already subsisting, when the king of 
 Great Britain should demonstrate a sincere disposition for that pur- 
 pose ; of which no other proof could be admitted but that of an 
 explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, 
 or the withdrawing of his fleets and armies. 
 
 Thus, the Americans, steady in their resolutions, chose rather to 
 trust to their own fortune, which they had already proved, and to 
 the hope they placed in that of France, than to link themselves anew 
 to the tottering destiny of England ; abandoning all idea of peace, 
 war became the sole object of their solicitude. Such was the issue 
 of the attempts, to effect an accommodation ; and thus were extin- 
 guished the hopes which the negotiation had given birth to in Eng- 
 land. By not consenting to concessions until the time for them was 
 passed, the English justified the refusal of the Americans. It can- 
 not be affirmed that these overtures on the part of the first, were 
 only an artifice to divide the second among themselves, to detach 
 them from France, and to have them afterwards at their discretion ; 
 but it is certain that after so many rancorous animosities, so many 
 sanguinary battles, after the innumerable excesses of rapine, cruelty 
 and lust, the Americans could not be blamed for suspecting the 
 British ministers of a design to insnare them. 
 
 The wound was incurable, and friendship could not be restored. 
 This was a truth of universal evidence ; the seeming inclined to 
 believe the contrary, was sufficient to inspire apprehensions of treach- 
 ery, and the extreme of distrust in all flattering promises. Whoever 
 shall reflect attentively upon the long series of events which we have 
 related up to this time, will perceive that the Americans were always 
 constant in their resolution, the English always versatile, uncertain, 
 and wavering. Hence it is not at all surprising that those found 
 new friends, and that these not only lost theirs, but also made 
 enemies of them at the very moment when they could do them the 
 least harm, and might receive the most from them. Vigorous reso- 
 lutions prevent danger ; half measures invite and aggravate it. 
 
 But the chiefs of the American revolution were not without appre- 
 hension that the insidious caresses, the, new concessions of England, 
 and the secret intrigues of the commissioners rmght act powerfully 
 upon the minds of such citizens as were weak or impatient for 
 repose. The Congress, however, was not disposed to give any other 
 answer except that which has been recounted above. They excited 
 therefore several writers to justify their resolutions and to defend the 
 cause of America. This course appeared to them the more proper, 
 inasmuch as the English commissioners, having lost all hope of suc- 
 ceeding with the Congress, had resorted to the expedient of dissem- 
 inating in the country a multitude of writings, by which they 
 endeavored to persuade the people that the obstinacy of Congress 
 would hurry America into an abyss, by alienating her from her old 
 

 BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 145 
 
 friends, and giving her up a prey to an inveterate enemy. This 
 step of the commissioners furnished the patriots with a new argument 
 to put the people on their guard against the artifices and intrigues of 
 the agents of England. Among th.6 writers of this epoch, deserving 
 of particular mention, is Drayton, one of the deputies of South Caro- 
 lina, and a man of no common erudition. He endeavored to 
 demonstrate in the puhlic papers, that the United States having 
 already treated with France, as free states, and in order to maintain, 
 their independence, they could not now negotiate with the British 
 commissioners upon the basis of submission, without renouncing that 
 faith and ingenuousness which ought to preside over all their trans- 
 actions, without exposing the American people to be accounted 
 faithless and infamous, and consequently to lose for ever all hope of 
 foreign succours ; while on the other hand they would find them- 
 selves placed without resource in the power of those who had given 
 them heretofore such fatal proofs of their perfidy and cruelty. 
 * Besides,' he added, 'the conventions that we might make with the 
 commissioners would not be definitive, they would need the ratifica- 
 tion of the king, of the ministers, and of the parliament ; and what 
 assurance have we that they would have it ? But let it be supposed, 
 can we be assured that a future parliament will not annul all these 
 treaties ? Let us not forget, that we have to do with an enemy as 
 faithless and fraudulent as barbarous. How is it possible not to sus- 
 pect a snare, when we hear the commissioners offer us propositions 
 which exceed their powers, and contradict even the acts of parlia- 
 ment f Thus the patriots repulsed the offers, the promises, and the 
 arguments of the British commissioners. Finding no accessible 
 point, the latter were* at length convinced that all hope of conciliation 
 must be relinquished. If they could still have remained under any 
 illusion upon this point, it must soon have been dissipated by the 
 evacuation which their generals made, at the same instant, of the 
 city of Philadelphia, the acquisition of which had been the fruit of 
 so much blood, and of two arduous campaigns. The ministers 
 feared, what actually happened, that a French fleet might suddenly 
 enter the Delaware, and place the British army, which occupied 
 Philadelphia, in extreme jeopardy. Their design was, besides, to 
 carry the war into the southern provinces, and to send a part of the 
 troops to defend their islands of the West Indies against the attacks 
 of the new enemy. The diminution that must result from it in the 
 army of the continent, induced them to send orders to Clinton, by 
 the commissioner Eden, to evacuate Philadelphia without delay, and 
 to fall back upon New York. This measure, dictated by prudence, 
 and even by necessity, was interpreted by the Americans as a symp- 
 tom of terror ; and it consequently must have had the most prejudi- 
 cial influence upon the success of the negotiations. What need 
 have we, they said, to enter into an accommodation with the Eng- 
 
146 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 lish, when their retreat is a virtual avowal of the inferiority of their 
 arms . ? 
 
 Be this as it may, Clinton prepared to execute the orders of his 
 government. But in order to repair by land to New York, it was 
 necessary to traverse New Jersey, a province, in which, for reasons 
 already stated, he must expect to meet only with enemies. It was, 
 besides, exhausted by long war. Foreseeing, therefore, that he 
 might want provisions, the English general, before evacuating Phila- 
 delphia, had collected them in considerable quantity, and loaded 
 them upon a great number of carriages. It is true, that as the fleet 
 of lord Howe still remained in the waters of the Delaware, the army 
 might have 'been transported to New York by sea ; the Americans 
 themselves expected it, and Washington apprehended it much. But 
 the difficulties and delays of the embarkation, and perhaps also the 
 fear of encountering the French fleet in superior force, deterred the 
 English from taking this route. Clinton and Howe having made the 
 necessary dispositions, the whole army passed the Delaware very 
 early on the twenty-second of June ; and, descending the river a 
 Jittle, landed at Gloucester Point, upon the territory of New Jersey. 
 It immediately proceeded, with all its baggage, towards Haddonfield, 
 where it arrived the same day. 
 
 Washington was soon apprised in his camp at Valley Forge that 
 the 'British army was in motion ; without loss of time he sent general 
 Dickinson to assemble the militia of New Jersey under arms. At 
 the same time, in order to support them by a respectable corps of 
 continental troops, he ordered general Maxwell to march into New 
 Jersey. Their mutual efforts were to embarrass, by all possible 
 impediments, the retreat of the British army ; to break up the roads, 
 to cut the bridges, to fell trees, and to plant them in abattis. It was 
 recommended to them at the same time to avoid hazardous move- 
 ments and unexpected actions. Such were the first steps taken by 
 Washington in order to retard the enemy, until he could advance 
 himself with the main body of his army into New Jersey, and 
 observe in person what there was to be done. In the meantime, he 
 assembled his council of war at Valley Forge, and submitted to their 
 deliberation whether it was proper, by harassing the enemy's rear, 
 to do him all the harm possible, without, however, coming to a 
 general engagement ; or whether it was more advisable to attack 
 him in front, and try the fortune of a decisive battle. The opinions 
 differed, and were for some time in balance. General Lee, who a 
 little before had been exchanged for Prescott, considering the equal- 
 ity of the forces of the two armies, and the posture of affairs, become 
 too favorable to be exposed without necessity to the hazard of bat- 
 tles, perhaps also having little confidence in the discipline of the 
 American troops, was of the opinion that they should not be put to 
 the test anew, and that an action should be avoided. He was for 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 147 
 
 being content with following the enemy, observing his motions, and 
 preventing him from ravaging the country. This counsel was adopted 
 by the greater part of the generals. The others, among whom was 
 Washington himself, thought differently, and were inclined, in case a 
 favorable occasion should present itself, to engage a general affair. 
 They could not bring their minds to endure that the enemy should 
 retire with impunity during so long a march, and they persuaded 
 themselves that they had every thing to expect from soldiers whose 
 constancy, the rigor of the seasons, and the scarcity of things the 
 most necessary to life, had not been able to subdue. They reflected, 
 besides, that the English army was embarrassed with the most cum- 
 bersome baggage, and they doubted not but that, in the numerous 
 defiles it would have to thread, some favorable occasion must offer 
 itself to attack with advantage. Nevertheless, the opinion of the 
 majority prevailed, not without evident dissatisfaction on the part of 
 Washington, who, according to his character of personal pertinacity, 
 remained steadfast in his way of thinking. 
 
 The same day in which the English abandoned Philadelphia, he 
 moved from his camp of Valley Forge, and crossing the Delaware 
 at Coryells Ferry, because Clinton was marching up the river, he 
 went to take post at Hopewell. He was in great uncertainty 
 respecting the designs of the enemy. Their slow march, which was 
 the effect of the immoderate quantity of their baggage, and not a 
 stratagem, induced him to suspect that their aim was to draw him 
 beyond the Rariton, into the open plains of New Jersey, and then, 
 rapidly, turning his right, to lock him against the river, and constrain 
 him to join battle with disadvantage. He proceeded, therefore, with 
 extreme circumspection, and did not allow himself to be enticed to 
 venture across the Rariton. 
 
 Meanwhile, the English had already reached Allentovvn. Wash- 
 ington detached Morgan with his light horse, to harass their right 
 flank, while Maxwell and Dickinson infested them on the left, and 
 general Cadvvallader in rear. But when Clinton found himself in 
 Allentown, he reflected upon the way he had to take in order to 
 arrive at New York. By turning towards the Rariton, he might pro- 
 ceed to Brunswick, pass the river there, push for Staten Island, and 
 thence to New York. Another route presented itself on the right, 
 by passing through Monmouth and gaining with rapidity the heights 
 of Middletown, whence it was easy to repair to Sandy Hook ; from 
 that point, the fleet of Howe, which awaited the army, could trans- 
 port it to New York. General Clinton conceived it an extremely 
 hazardous enterprise to attempt the passage of the Rariton, with an 
 army encumbered by such immense convoys, and in the presence of 
 that of Washington, which he knew was soon to be reenforced by 
 the northern troops, under the command of general Gates. He 
 concluded therefore to pursue the road of Monmouth. and imtnedi- 
 
148 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 ately commenced the march. Washington, who till then had remain- 
 ed in doubt, because the road from Allentovvn leads alike to New 
 Brunswick and to Monmotiih, as soon as he got this intelligence, 
 detached general Wayne with a thousand regular troops to re- 
 enforce the corps of Cadwallader, in order to enable him with 
 more effect to harass, and retard the enemy. The simultaneous 
 action of the detachments of Wayne, Cadwallader, Dickinson arid 
 Morgan, being of extreme importance, the commander-in-chief put 
 them all under the command of major-general La Fayette. But 
 the danger increasing at every instant, as the American van had 
 already come up with the English rear, Washington judged it neces- 
 sary to support it by other corps of regular troops. He directed 
 general Lee to press forward with two brigades. As the senior, Lee 
 took the command of the whole vanguard, leaving to the marquis de 
 la Fayette only that of the militia and light horse. General Lee 
 occupied Eriglishtown. Washington followed a little distance from 
 the main body of the army, and encamped at Cranberry. Morgan 
 continued to infest the right flank of the English, and Dickinson their 
 left. Things were fast verging to a decisive event. The British 
 army was encamped upon the heights of Freehold ; descending 
 thence towards Mon mouth, a deep valley is entered, three miles in 
 length and one in breadth ; it is broken with hillocks, woods, and 
 morasses. General Clinton, seeing the enemy so near, and the 
 battle inevitable, withdrew all the baggage from the rear, and passed 
 it into the charge of the van, commanded by general Knyphausen., 
 that while himself with the rear guard kept the enemy in check, it 
 might be conducted without molestation to a place of safety upon 
 the hills of Middletown. The rear guard, which he retained during 
 the night of the twenty-seventh in his encampment at Freehold, con- 
 sisted of several battalions of English infantry, both heavy and light, 
 the. Hessian grenadiers, and a regiment of cavalry. 
 
 The next morning at daybreak, Knyphausen descended into the 
 valley with the vanguard and his convoy, on his way towards Mid- 
 dletown, and was soon at a good distance from the camp. Clinton, 
 with the selected corps he had kept with him, still maintained his 
 position, as well to retard the enemy, as to give time for the baggage 
 to gain the heights. Washington, promptly informed of all that 
 passed, and apprehensive that the English would effect their design 
 of posting themselves in the mountains of Middletown, the distance 
 being only a few miles, in which case it became impossible to inter- 
 rupt their retreat to New York, resolved to give them battle without 
 further delay. 
 
 He ordered general Lee to attack the enemy in front, while Mor- 
 gan and Dickinson should descend into the valley upon his flanks, 
 the first to the right, the second to the left, in order to attempt the 
 column of Knyphausen, encumbered with its long train of carriages 
 

 BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 149 
 
 and packhorses. Each put himself in motion to obey. General 
 Clinton having resumed his march, was already descended from the 
 heights of Freehold, when he perceived that the Americans were 
 also descending with impetuosity in order to attack him. He was 
 informed at the same instant, that Knyphausen was exposed to the 
 greatest peril, his convoy being engaged in defiles, that continued 
 several miles. Clinton finding himself under the necessity of fight- 
 ing, instantly took the only resolution that could extricate him from 
 the embarrassments of his position. He determined to turn upon 
 the Americans who menaced his rear, and to charge them with the 
 utmost vigor. He persuaded himself that thrown into disorder by 
 this unexpected attack, they would hasten to recall to their succour 
 the corps they had detached to intercept the baggage. Thus the 
 English rear guard, commanded by Cornvvallis and Clinton himself, 
 and the American vanguard, conducted by general Lee, and the 
 marquis de la Fayette, advanced the one against the other with a 
 firm resolution to engage. 
 
 The artillery began to play, and the Queen's dragoons charged 
 and routed the light horse of La Fayette. Lee, surprised at the un- 
 expected determination of Clinton to face about upon the Americans, 
 and the rapidity with which he had carried it into execution, was 
 constrained to form his troops upon ground by no means favorable. 
 He had behind him a ravine which rendered his retreat almost im- 
 practicable in case of check. Perhaps also he was piqued at being 
 forced to join battle after having supported the contrary opinion. 
 
 At the first charge of the English he fell back, not without dis- 
 order, probably occasioned by the difficulty of the ground. The 
 enemy pursued him across the ravine and pressed him hard before 
 he had lime to rally. In this critical moment, Washington arrived 
 with his corps. Having kept himself ready to move at any instant, 
 he had pushed forward at the first sound of the firing, having ordered 
 his soldiers to leave behind them whatever could impede their march, 
 even to the knapsacks, which they usually carried upon all occasions. 
 On seeing the retreat or rather flight of the troops of Lee, he was 
 not master of his anger, he addressed some very harsh words to that 
 general, and applied himself with equal prudence and courage to 
 restore the fortune of the day. It was necessary, first of all, to ar- 
 rest for a few moments the impetuosity of the English, in order to 
 give time for all the corps- of the rear guard to come up. Accord- 
 ingly, the commander-in-chief ordered the battalions of colonels 
 Stewart and Ramsay to occupy an important post on the left, behind 
 a tuft of wood, and there to sustain the first efforts of the enemy. 
 Stung by the reproaches of his general, and stimulated by the point 
 of honor, even Lee made extreme exertions to rally his troops. He 
 disposed them on more advantageous ground, where they defended 
 themselves valiantly. The English were constrained to renew their 
 VOL. ii. 20 
 
150 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 attacks in order to dislodge them. But at length, Lee as well as 
 Stewart and Ramsay, overpowered by numbers, were forced to fall 
 back ; they withdrew, however, without any confusion. Lee retired 
 to rally anew behind Englishtown ; but in the meantime the Ame- 
 rican rear guard had arrived upon the field of battle. Washington 
 disposed these fresh troops, partly in a neighboring wood, and partly 
 upon a hill situated on the left, from which some pieces of cannon, 
 which lord Sterling had planted there, severely annoyed the enemy. 
 The infantry were drawn up in the centre, at the foot of the hill in 
 front of the enemy. At the same time, general Greene, who on this 
 day commanded the right wing, and who had advanced considerably, 
 on being apprised of the retreat of the vanguard, very prudently 
 concluded also to fall back. 
 
 As soon as he was arrived upon 'the field of battle, he took a very 
 strong position on the right of lord Sterling. He likewise posted 
 his artillery upon a lofty eminence, whence it cruelly infested the 
 left wing of the enemy. The English, being thus arrested, and find- 
 ing so harsh a reception in front, attempted to turn the left flank of 
 the Americans ; but they were repulsed by the light infantry which 
 Washington had sent there for this purpose. They then directed 
 their efforts against his right, which they endeavored to surround. 
 But overwhelmed by the artillery of Greene, they were soon forced 
 to retreat. As soon as Washington saw them give way, he caused 
 them to be charged vigorously by the infantry under general Wayne. 
 
 The English turned the back, and recrossing the ravine went to 
 form anew upon the same ground where general Lee had made his 
 first halt. Victory was no longer doubtful ; but the new position of 
 the English was still formidable. Their flanks were covered by 
 woods and deep morasses, and their front, being protected by the 
 same ravine which had deranged the troops of Lee in the beginning 
 of the action, could only be reached through a narrow pass. 
 
 Washington, nevertheless, made his dispositions for renewing the 
 engagement, having ordered general Poor to charge them upon the 
 right with his own brigade and a corps of Carolinian militia, and 
 general Woodfort to attack them upon the left, while the artillery 
 should play on them in front. Both exerted themselves with alacrity 
 to execute their orders, and to surmount the obstacles which defended 
 the flanks of the British army. But the ground was so broken 
 and difficult, that night came on before they had been able to obtain 
 any advantage. The action soon ceased throughout the line. Wash- 
 ington would have desired to recommence it the next morning, with 
 the day ; he therefore kept all his troops under arms during the night. 
 He was vigilant that every thing should be ready ; sparing neither 
 cares nor fatigue. But the thoughts of Clinton were very differently 
 occupied. His vanguard and his baggage were already arrived in 
 safety near Middletown. His calculation had not deceived him, for 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 151 
 
 he had no sooner attacked the corps of Lee, than that general hast- 
 ened to recall the light troops which had been detached to fall upon 
 the baggage and the soldiers that guarded it, as they filed through the 
 valley. During the action, they had continued to march upon M>d- 
 dletovvn, and they had arrived the same evening at secure positions 
 on the hills. Clinton, besides, had not to blush for this day, since 
 with his rear guard he had repulsed the American van, and had finally 
 arrested the whole army of the enemy. His troops were greatly 
 inferior in number to those of Washington ; but it would have been 
 an imprudence, even for an army of equal force, to risk a new 
 engagement, when so great a part of it was at such a distance, and 
 in a country whose inhabitants and whose surface presented little 
 else but opposition and obstacles. The loss of the battle would have 
 been followed by the to;. 1 ruin of the army. On all these considera- 
 tions, he decided for retreat. He took advantage of the obscurity of 
 night in order not to be followed, and to avoid the intolerable sultri- 
 ness of the climate during the day. About ten at night, the Ameri- 
 cans say at midnight, he put his columns in motion for MidfUetown, 
 with so profound a silence, that the enemy, though extremely near, 
 and attentive to observe him, perceived not his retreat. Clinton wrote, 
 that his march was favored by moonlight. This circumstance afforded 
 the Americans an abundance of merriment ; it being observed that 
 the moon was then at its fourth day, and that it was set a little before 
 eleven at night. Washington, on his part, had to lake into consider- 
 ation the excessive heat of the season, the weariness of his troops, 
 the nature of the country, very sandy, and without water; finally, the 
 distance which the enemy had already gained upon him during the 
 night. He consequently relinquished the thought of pursuing them, 
 and allowed his army to repose in the camp of Englishtown until the 
 first of July. He took this step with the less reluctance, as he con- 
 sidered it now impracticable to prevent or disturb the embarkation of 
 the English at Sandy Hook. 
 
 Such was the issue of the battle of Freehold, or of Monmouth, as 
 it is called by the Americans. If they had the worse in its com- 
 mencement, it terminated in their favor. And it appears very pro- 
 bable, that if the division under Lee had made a firm stand, they 
 would have gained the most decisive victory. The English, in this 
 engagement, had three hundred killed, and an equal number wound- 
 ed ; about one hundred were made prisoners. Many of them also 
 deserted, especially of the Hessians. Few were slain on the side of 
 the Americans. On the one part and on, the other many soldiers 
 died, not of wounds, but of the intense heat of the weather, added to 
 the fatigue of the day. Washington greatly commended his troops 
 for the valor they had signalised, and particularly general Wayne. 
 The Congress voted thanks to the army, and especially to the offi- 
 cers and comoiander-in-chief. But general Lee, a man of an irasci- 
 
152 THE AMERICAN WAR. * BOOK X, 
 
 ble character, could not brook the indignity he believed to have been 
 offered him by Washington, in presence of his soldiers. He there- 
 fore wrote two letters to the commander-in-chief, in which his resent- 
 ment caused him to forget all bounds of respect. They occasioned 
 the revival of an affair which the usual prudence and moderation of 
 Washington would have inclined him to pass by. Lee was arrested 
 and brought before a court martial, to make answer to the three fol- 
 lowing charges ; for disobedience, in not attacking the enemy on the 
 twenty-eighth of June, agreeably to his instructions ; for having made 
 an unnecessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat ; and, for disrespect 
 to the cornmander-in-chief in his two letters. He defended himself 
 with great ingenuity, and with a sort of eloquence, so that impartial 
 and military men remained in doubt whether he was really culpable 
 or not. Nevertheless, the court martial found him guilty of all the 
 charges, bating the epithet of shameful, which was expunged, and 
 sentenced him to be suspended for one year ; a judgment, certainly 
 either too mild, if Lee was guilty, or too severe, if innocent. This 
 affair occasioned much conversation, some approving, others blaming 
 the sentence. The Congress, though with some hesitation, confirm- 
 ed it. 
 
 On the first of July, Washington directed the march of his army 
 towards the Hudson, in order to secure the passages of the moun- 
 tains, now tjie English were in force at New York. He left, how- 
 ever, some detachments of light troops, and particularly Morgan's 
 dragoons, in the lower parts of New Jersey, to take up deserters, and 
 to repress .the incursions of the enemy. 
 
 While such were the operations of Washington and of Clinton in 
 New Jersey, general Gates, with a part of the northern army, had 
 descended along the banks of the Hudson, in order to disquiet the 
 English in New York. By this judicious movement, the garrison of 
 that city, under apprehensions for itself, was prevented from march- 
 ing to the support of those who were engaged with the enemy in New 
 Jersey. 
 
 Meanwhile, the British army was arrived, the thirtieth of June, at 
 Middletown, not far from Sandy Hook. The fleet under lord Howe, 
 was already at anchor there, though it had been detained a long time 
 in the Delaware by caltns. Sandy Hook had been in time past a 
 peninsula, which, forming a point, extended in the mouth of the bay 
 of New York ; but in the preceding winter it had been disjoined 
 from the main land by a violent storm and inundation, and converted 
 into an island. The timely arrival of the fleet, delivered the army 
 from the imminent peril to which it would have been exposed, had it 
 been unable to pass this new strait. But a bridge of boats was con- 
 structed with incredible expedition ; and the whole army passed over 
 the channel into Sandy Hook island, whence it was soon after con- 
 veyed by the fleet to New York ; ignorant of the extreme danger it 
 had so narrowly escaped. 
 
BOOK X. 'THE AMERICAN WAR. 153 
 
 The count d' Estaing, with his powerful armament, was at length 
 arrived in the seas of America. After having made his appearance 
 upon the coasts of Virginia, he had entered the mouth of the Dela- 
 ware, in the night of the eighth of July. If he could have gained 
 that position a few days sooner, and before the fleet of Howe had got 
 out of the river, or even if he had fallen in with it on its passage from 
 the Delaware to Sandy Hook, it is heyond doubt that he would have 
 entirely destroyed that squadron, which only consisted of two ships 
 of the line, a few frigates, and a certain number of transports. The 
 British army would then have been enclosed by the Americans at 
 land, and by the French at sea. Hemmed in by mountains and an 
 impassable tract of country, it would huve found it impossible to force 
 its way to New York. Destitute of provisions, and cut off from- all 
 communication, it must have been compelled at last to surrender, and 
 at Middletown would have been renewed the capitulation of Saratoga. 
 This event might therefore have decided the fate of the whole war. 
 But after having commenced with favorable winds, the voyage of the 
 French admiral was so protracted by frequent calms, or by rough 
 weather, that he not only did not arrive in time to surprise the squad- 
 ron of Howe in the Delaware, and the army of Clinton at Philadel- 
 phia, as had been the scope of his plan, but also that he did not 
 enter the waters of that river until the, one was withdrawn to the 
 anchorage of Sandy Hook, and the other behind the walls of New 
 York. 
 
 But though the land troops might think themselves in safety within 
 that city, the fleet was exposed to manifest peril in the road of Sandy 
 Hook. As soon as the count d' Estaing was informed of the move- 
 ments of the enemy, he promptly took his resolution. He put to sea 
 anew, and suddenly made his appearance, the eleventh of July, in 
 sight of the British squadron anchored at Sandy Hook. His own 
 consisted of twelve ships of the line, perfectly equipped, among which 
 were two of eighty guns, and six of seventy-four; he had, besides, 
 three or four large frigates. On the other hand, the British squadron 
 was composed of only six ships of sixty-four guns, three of fifty, 
 and two of forty, with some frigates and sloops. They were not in 
 good condition, having been long absent from England, and their 
 crews were very deficient in number. It is also to be observed, that 
 when the French fleet appeared so unexpectedly, that of Howe was 
 not in the order of battle suitable to receive it. If, therefore, the 
 count d' Estaing, immediately upon his arrival, had pushed forward 
 and attempted to force the entrance of the harbor, there must have 
 ensued, considering the valor and ability of the two parties, a most 
 obstinate and sanguinary engagement ; an engagement, however, 
 which the superiority of the French would in all probability have 
 decided in their favor. 
 
154 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 The count d 5 Estaing appeared disposed to enter ; the English 
 prepared to receive him. But such is the nature of the mouth of 
 the bay of New York, that, though sufficiently broad, it is obstructed 
 by a bar, which runs from Long Island towards Sandy Hook, so 
 that between the latter and the extremity of the bar, there is left but 
 a very narrow ship channel. Nevertheless, the bar being at a cer- 
 tain depth under water, light vessels may pass it with facility, espe- 
 cially at flood tide ; but it was doubtful whether large ships like 
 those of the French, could surmount this obstacle. The count 
 d' Estaing took counsel of the American pilots, sent him by the 
 Congress; he feared that his ships, and especially the Languedoc 
 and Tonnant, which drew more water than the others, would not be 
 able to pass. He therefore relinquished the enterprise, and withdrew 
 to anchor upon the coast of New Jersey, about four miles from 
 Sandy Hook, and not far from the town of Shrewsbury. There, 
 having recruited his water and provisions, he concerted With the 
 American generals respecting the expedition of Rhode Island, which 
 he meditated, since he had missed that of the Delaware. 
 
 The English imagined that the French admiral was only waiting 
 in this anchorage for the high tides at the end of July. Under the 
 apprehension of an approaching attack, they accordingly prepared 
 themselves for a vigorous defence. The ardor manifested on this 
 occasion by their troops, both in the land and sea service, cannot be 
 too highly commended. Meanwhile, several English vessels that 
 were bound to New York, far from supposing that the French were 
 become masters of the sea, fell daily into their power, under the very 
 eyes of their own people of the squadron, whose indignation was 
 vehement ; but they had no means of remedy. 
 
 Finally, on the twenty-second of July, the whole French fleet 
 appeared at the entrance of Sandy Hook. The wind favored it and 
 the tide was very high. The English expected an action which 
 must necessarily issue either in a victory without example, or in the 
 total destruction of their fleet ; but after some uncertain movements, 
 the count d' Estaing all at once stood off towards the south, and 
 relieved his enemy from all fear. His departure could not have 
 been better timed for the English ; for from the twenty-second to 
 the thirtieth of July, several ships of admiral Byron's squadron, which 
 had been dispersed and shattered by storms and a tedious passage 
 arrived successively at Sandy Hook. If the count d' Estaing had re- 
 mained a few days longer on that station, not one of them could have 
 escaped him. Of this number were the Renown and the Centurion 
 of fifty guns, the Reasonable of sixty-four, and the Cornwall of 
 seventy-four. 
 
 Admiral Howe thus finding himself, with infinite gratification, in 
 condition to resume the open sea, sailed in search of the count 
 d' Estaing, whom he afterwards found at Newport in Rhode Island. 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 155 
 
 But previous to relating what passed between the two admirals, 
 the order of history requires that we should recount what happened 
 between the British commissioners and the Congress. The former 
 had not entirely abandoned their enterprise, and they still continued 
 upon the American continent. 
 
 Johnstone, one of their number, had formerly resided a long time 
 upon the shores of America, where he had formed an acquaintance 
 with many of the principal inhabitants of the country. He had like- 
 wise been governor of one of the colonies, where his active and 
 cultivated genius, with his insinuating manners, had procured him an 
 extensive influence. Being;, besides, a member of parliament, he 
 had there always warmly defended the cause of America, and had 
 shown himself one of the most resolute antagonists of the ministry. 
 These motives, to which perhaps it was owing that he had been 
 selected for a commissioner, persuaded him that he might succeed 
 in effecting in America by his suggestions and a private correspond- 
 ence, what his colleagues perchance could not have obtained by 
 open negotiations, always subject to the restraints of circumspection 
 and distrust. He believed, at least, that by enticing the principal 
 republicans with brilliant prospects of honors and wealth, he should 
 smooth the difficulties which impeded the operations of the commis- 
 sioners. It is not known whether he pursued this course of his own 
 motion, or with the privity, or even by the command of the govern- 
 ment. Nevertheless, the tenor of the letters he wrote upon this head, 
 would lead to the belief that the ministers were no strangers to his 
 designs. In fact, contrary to the uniform practice of those who exercise 
 a delegated power, he praised the resistance which the Americans 
 had made, up to that time, against the unjust and arrogant laws of 
 England ; a frankness he would scarcely have ventured, if he had not 
 been guided by the instructions of the ministers. The style in which 
 he wrote to the most considerable citizens, and even to the members 
 of Congress, would sooner have caused him to be taken for an agent 
 of that body, than for an envoy of the British government. He 
 professed a desire to be admitted into the interior of the country, 
 and to discourse face to face with men, whose virtues he admired 
 above those of the Greeks and Romans, in order to be able to 
 describe them to his children. He affirmed that they had worthily 
 wielded the pen and the sword in vindicating the rights of their 
 country, and of the human race; he overwhelmed them with protest- 
 ations of his love and veneration. The Congress had some suspi- 
 cions, and at last positive knowledge of these intrigues. They recom- 
 mended to the different states, and directed the commander-in-cbief 
 and other officers, to hold a strict hand to the effect that all corres- 
 pondence with the enemy should cease. By a subsequent resolution, 
 it was ordained that all letters of a public nature received by any 
 
 . 
 
156 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 members of Congress, from the agents or subjects of the king of 
 Great Britain, should be laid before that assembly. 
 
 Tims became public those letters addressed by Johnstone to three 
 members of Congress, one to Francis Dana, another to general 
 Reed, and a third to Robert Morris. In the first, he assured that 
 doctor Franklin had approved the conditions of the arrangement that 
 was proposed ; that France had been induced to conclude the treaty 
 of alliance, not from any regard for the interests of America, but 
 from the dread of reconciliation ; that Spain was dissatisfied, and 
 disapproved the conduct of the court of Versailles. In the second, 
 after lavishing praises on general Reed, he continued, with saying, 
 that the man who could be instrumental in restoring harmony between 
 the two states, would deserve more from the king and people, than 
 ever was yet bestowed on human kind. In the third, which he had 
 also filled with compliments, he admitted that he believed the men 
 who had conducted the affairs of America, incapable of being 
 influenced by improper motives, and added the following words ; 
 * but in all such transactions there is risk ; and I think that whoever 
 ventures, should be secured, at the same time, that honor and emolu- 
 ment should naturally follow the fortunes of those who have steered 
 the vessel in the storm, and brought her safely into port. I think 
 Washington and the President have a right to every favor that grate- 
 ful nations can bestow, if they could once more unite our interests, 
 and spare the miseries and devastations of war.' Such were the 
 baits with which, as the Americans said, George Johnstone attempted 
 the fidelity of the first authorities of the United States ; such were 
 the words of blandishment he caused to resound in their ears, in 
 order to seduce them to betray their country. But that which ave 
 the Congress most offence, and which they profited of with the 
 greatest address to render the British cause and propositions alike 
 odious to the inhabitants of America, was the following transaction ; 
 general Reed stated that a lady had sought him, on the part of John- 
 stone, and had earnestly exhorted him to promote the reunion of the 
 two countries, promising, in case of success, a reward often thousand 
 pounds sterling, and any office in the colonies in the king's gift. 
 The general replied, as he affirmed, that he was not worth purchas- 
 ing ; but that such as he was, the king of Great Britain ivas not rich 
 enough to do it. The Congress, in their indignation, declared that 
 these being direct attempts to corrupt and bribe the Congress of the 
 United States of America, it was incompatible with their honor to 
 hold any manner of correspondence or intercourse with George John- 
 stone ; especially to negotiate with him upon affairs in which the 
 cause of liberty and virtue was interested. 
 
 This declaration, which was sent by a flag to the commissioners, 
 produced a very severe answer from Johnstone, which, if he had 
 clothed in more moderate language, would have gained him more 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 157 
 
 credit with his readers. He affected to consider the declaration of 
 Congress as an honor, and not as a matter of offence ; he observed 
 that while that assembly only contended for the essential privileges 
 necessary to the preservation of their liberty and the redress oi their 
 grievances, their censure would have filled his soul with bitterness 
 and with grief; but since the Congress, deaf to the piteous cries of 
 so many citizens overwhelmed by the calamities of war, had sullied 
 by motives of personal ambition the principles of their first resistance ; 
 since he saw them bend the knee before the ambassador of Francej 
 and form alliance with the ancient enemy of the two countries, with 
 the manifest intention of reducing the power of the mother country, 
 he was quite unconcerned what might be the opinions of such men 
 with regard to him. As to the accusations drawn from his letters, 
 he neither denied nor confessed. He simply affirmed, that the 
 present resolution of Congress was no better founded than that they 
 had taken concerning the cartridgeboxes of Burgoyne's army. He 
 reserved, however, the liberty of justifying his conduct, before his 
 departure from America ; and added, that in the meantime, he 
 should abstain from acting in the character of a commissioner. 
 
 His colleagues, Carlisle, Clinton and Eden, issued a counter 
 declaration, wherein they disclaimed all participation and knowledge 
 of the matters specified by the Congress in their resolutions. They 
 expressed, at the same time, the highest opinion of the abilities of 
 Johnstone, of the uprightness of his intentions, and of the equity and 
 generosity of those sentiments and principles upon which he was 
 desirous of founding a reconciliation between the disunited parts of 
 the British empire. . 
 
 But the design of the commissioners in this declaration was not 
 so much to exculpate themselves, as to counteract the impression 
 produced by the treaties with France, and to demonstrate to the 
 people at large that Congress had no right to ratify them. They 
 had placed great hopes in this step. They were not ignorant that 
 many Americans had abated their ardor, and even conceived a secret 
 discontent, since the much magnified succour of the count d' Estaing 
 had proved of so little, or rather of no utility. The commissioners 
 were also, as usual, stimulated by the refugees, who reminded them 
 continually of the multitude and power of the loyalists. They ex- 
 patiated, therefore, upon the perfidy of France, upon the ambition of 
 Congress, and they exerted themselves, especially, to prove that the 
 latter, in a case of this importance, where the salvation or the ruin of 
 all America was at stake, had not, even by their own constitution, 
 the power to ratify the treaties with France, without consulting their 
 constituents ; at a time, too, when such offers of accommodation 
 were expected on the part of Great Britain, as, not only far exceeded 
 the demands, but even the hopes of the inhabitants of America. 
 
 VOL. II. 21 
 
158 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 They concluded with observing, that the faith of the nation was not 
 pledged by the ratification of Congress. 
 
 The opposite party wanted not writers who endeavored to defeat 
 the effect of these insinuations. .The most conspicuous among them 
 were Drayton, already mentioned, and Thomas Paine, author of the 
 work entitled Common Sense. Whatever were the merits of this 
 controversy, it is certain that the publications of the commissioners 
 were absolutely fruitless. Not a proselyte was made. 
 
 The British agents being now persuaded that all hopes of recon- 
 ciliation were illusory, determined, before their departure, to publish 
 a manifesto, in which they threatened the Americans with the ex- 
 tremes of the most desolating war that man could conceive. They 
 hoped that terror would produce those effects which their conciliatory 
 offers had failed of attaining. . This plan of hostilities had long been 
 advocated in England, by the friends of coercion, as the readiest and 
 most effectual. It would bring, they believed, such distress on the 
 colonies as would not fail to compel them to submit. They repre- 
 sented the vast continent of America as peculiarly open to incursions 
 and ravages ; its coasts were of so immense an extent, that they could 
 not possibly be guarded against an enemy that was master at sea ; there 
 were innumerable bays, creeks and inlets, where descents might be 
 made unobstructed. The rivers were such as afforded a navigation 
 for ships of force far into the interior parts of the country ; thus it 
 would be easy to penetrate to most of the towns and settlements, and 
 to spread destruction into the heart of every province on the continent. 
 
 The commissioners, inclining to adopt these views, commenced 
 their manifesto with a retrospect of the transactions and conduct of 
 the Congress; charging them with an obstinate rejection of the 
 proffers of accommodation on the part of Great Britain, and repre- 
 senting them as unauthorised to exercise the powers they had 
 assumed. On the other hand, they magnified their own endeavors 
 to bring about a restoration of peace and happiness to America. 
 They gave notice, that it was their intention to return shortly to 
 England, as their stay in a country where their commission had been 
 treated with so little notice and respect, was inconsistent with the 
 dignity of the power they represented. They professed, however, 
 the same readiness as ever, to promote the objects of their mission, 
 and to continue the conciliatory offers that were its principal motive. 
 Finally, they solemnly warned the people of the alteration that would 
 be made in the future method of carrying on the war, should the 
 colonies persist in their resistance to Great Britain, and in their 
 unnatural connection with France. 
 
 ' The policy, as well as the benevolence of Great Britain,' said 
 they, * has hitherto checked the extremes of war, when they tended 
 to distress a people, still considered as fellow-subjects, and to desolate 
 a country shortly to become again a source of mutual advantage : 
 
* 
 
 BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 159 
 
 but when that country not only estranges herself from England, but 
 mortgages herself and her resources to tier enemy, the whole contest 
 is changed ; arid the question is, how fur Great Britain may, by every 
 means in her power, destroy or render useless, a connection contrived 
 for her ruin, and for the aggrandisement of France . ? Under such 
 circumstances, the laws of selfps-eservation must direct the conduct 
 of Great Britain ; and if the British colonies are to become an 
 accession of power to France, will direct her to render that accession 
 of as little avail as possible to her enemy.' 
 
 This manifesto, which was the object of the severest animadver- 
 sion, and which was even condemned by several orators of parliament, 
 and particularly by Fox, as cruel and barbarous, produced no greater 
 effect upon the minds of the Americans than had been operated by 
 the offers of peace. 
 
 The Congress immediately issued a proclamation, warning all the 
 inhabitants who lived in places exposed to the descents and ravages 
 of a ferocious enemy, to remove, on the appearance of danger, to 
 the distance of at least thirty miles, together with their families, their 
 cattle, and all their moveable property. But if the measures adopted 
 by the British commissioners, were justly censured, those taken by 
 the Congress are at least by no means to be commended. They 
 recommended, that whenever the enemy proceeded to burn or destroy 
 any town, the people should, in the same manner, ravage, burn and 
 destroy the houses and properties of all lories and enemies to the 
 independence of America, and secure their persons ; without treating 
 them, however, or their families with any cruelty ; since the Ameri- 
 cans should abhor to imitate their adversaries, or the allies they had 
 subsidised, whether Germans, blacks, or savagea 
 
 Such are the excesses to which even the most civilised men are 
 liable to be transported, when under the pestilent influence of party 
 spirit. The British threatened to do what they had already done, 
 and the Americans, the very thing they so justly condemned in tireir 
 enemies. But impassioned man is more prone to imitate evil in 
 others, than dispassionate man to imitate good. 
 
 Some time after, lest the extreme rigor of the English declarations 
 should give birth to new thoughts among the people, the Congress 
 published a manifesto, in which they premised, that since they had 
 not been able to prevent, they had endeavored, at least, to alleviate 
 the calamities of war. But they asserted that the conduct of their 
 enemies had been the very reverse. ' They,' said the manifesto, 
 * have laid waste the open country, burned the defenceless villages, 
 and butchered the citizens of America. Their prisons have been 
 the slaughterhouses of her soldiers, their ships of her seamen ; and 
 the severest injuries have been aggravated by the grossest insults. 
 Foiled in their vain attempts to subjugate the unconquerable spirit of 
 freedom, they have meanly assailed the representatives of America 
 
1 
 
 160 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X- 
 
 with bribes, with deceit, and the servility of adulation. They have 
 made a mock of religion by impious appeals to God, whilst in the 
 violation of his sacred command. They have made a mock even of 
 reason itself, by endeavoring to prove that the liberty and happiness 
 of America could safely be intrusted to those who have sold their 
 own, unawed by the sense of virtue or of shame. Treated with the 
 contempt which such conduct deserved, they have applied to indi- 
 viduals. They have solicited them to break the bonds of allegiance, 
 and imbue their souls with the blackest crimes. But fearing that 
 none could be found through these United States equal to the wicked- 
 ness of their purpose ; to influence weak minds they have threatened 
 more wide devastation. 
 
 'While the shadow of hope remained that our enemies could be 
 taught by our example to respect those laws which are held sacred 
 among civilised nations, and to comply with the dictates of a religion 
 which they pretend, in common with us, to believe and revere, they 
 have been left to the influence of that religion and that example. 
 But since their incorrigible dispositions cannot be touched by kind- 
 ness and compassion ; it becomes our duty by other means to vindi- 
 cate the rights of humanity. 
 
 1 We, therefore, the Congress of the United States of America, 
 do solemnly declare and proclaim, that if our enemies presume to 
 execute their threats, or persist in their present career of barbarity, 
 we will take such exemplary vengeance, as shall deter others from a 
 like conduct. We appeal to that God who searcheth the hearts of 
 men, for the rectitude of our intentions ; and in his holy presence 
 declare, that as we are not moved by any light and hasty suggestions 
 of anger or revenge-, so through every possible change of fortune we 
 will adhere to this our determination.' 
 
 At the same epoch, the marquis de la Fayette, indignant at the 
 manner in which the British commissioners had spoken of France in 
 their letter of the twenty-sixth of August, in attributing her interfe- 
 rence in the present quarrel to ambition, and to the desire of seeing 
 the two parties consume each other in a long war, wrote to the earl 
 of Carlisle, demanding reparation for the insult offered to his country, 
 and challenging him to single combat. 
 
 The earl declined this meeting, saying, that as he had acted on 
 that occasion in the character of a commissioner, his language and 
 conduct had been official, and consequently he was accountable for 
 them to no one except to his king and country. He concluded his 
 answer with observing, that in regard to national disputes, they would 
 be better adjusted when admiral Byron and the count, d' Estaing 
 should have met upon the ocean. 
 
 A short time after, the commissioners, unable to effect any of the 
 objects of their mission, embarked for England. All hope from ne- 
 gotiation being now vanished, every thought was devoted with new 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 161 
 
 ardor to the way of arms. Meanwhile, the Congress had returned to 
 Philadelphia, a few days after the English evacuated that city. On 
 the sixth of August they received publicly, and with all the ceremo- 
 nies usual on similar occasions, M. Gerard, minister plenipotentiary 
 of the king of France. This envoy delivered at first his letters of 
 credence, which were signed by Lewis XVI. and directed to his very 
 dear great friends and allies, the president and members of the gene- 
 rat Congress of the United States of America. He made a very 
 apposite speech, in which he set forth the benevolent intentions of 
 France towards the United States, and the reciprocal obligation of 
 the two contracting parties to execute the engagements stipulated in 
 the eventual treaty, in order to defeat the hostile measures and de- 
 signs of the common enemy. He announced, that on his part, his 
 most Christian majesty had already sent to their assistance a nume- 
 rous and powerful fleet. He closed, with expressing a hope that the 
 principles which might be adopted by the respective governments 
 would tend to strengthen those bonds of union, which had originated 
 in the mutual interest of the two nations. 
 
 The president, Henry Laurens, answered with much ease and 
 dignity ; that the present treaties sufficed to demonstrate the wisdom 
 and magnanimity of the most Christian king ; that the virtuous citi- 
 zens of America could never cease to acknowledge the hand of a 
 gracious Providence, in raising them up so powerful and illustrious a 
 friend. That the Congress had no doubt, but that the confidence his 
 majesty reposed in the firmness of the United States would receive 
 additional strength from every day's experience. That since Eng- 
 land,, from her insatiable lust of domination, was resolved to prolong 
 the war; and with it the miseries of mankind, they were determined 
 to fulfill all the conditions of the eventual treaty, although they had 
 no more ardent wish than to spare human blood, by laying down at 
 once their resentments and their arms ; that they hoped the assist- 
 ance of so wise and generous an ally, would at length open the eyes 
 of Great Britain, and bring her to a sense of justice and moderation. 
 The authorities of Pennsylvania, many strangers of note, the officers 
 of the army, and a great number of distinguished citizens were pre- 
 sent at this audience. The public joy was now at its height. All 
 hearts were filled, not only with the hope of independence, for that 
 was considered as no longer doubtful, but also with brilliant anticipa- 
 tions of future prosperity ; the American empire, with the interference 
 of France, appeared already established for ever. 
 
 Thus a king extended an auxiliary hand to a republic against 
 another king ! Thus the French nation came to the succour of one 
 English people against another English people ; thus the European 
 powers, who until then had acknowledged no other independent 
 nations in America, except the savages and barbarians, looking upon 
 all the others as subjects, began to recognise as independent and sove- 
 
 , 
 
162 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X, 
 
 reign a civilised nation, and to form alliance with it, as such, by authen- 
 tic treaties. An event assuredly worthy to arrest our particular 
 attention ; since the discovery of America by Columbus, none of equal 
 or of similar importance had passed before the eyes of men. Such, 
 in America, were the fruits either of the love of liberty or the desire 
 of independence. Such were the consequences, in Europe, of a blind 
 obstinacy, or of a pride perhaps necessary on the one part ; of jea- 
 lousy of power and a thirst of vengeance on the other ! 
 
 The fourteenth of September the Congress appointed doctor Ben- 
 jamin Franklin minister plenipotentiary of the United States at the 
 court of France. 
 
 We have already related how, and by what causes, the expedition 
 of the Delaware, by which the allies had hoped to destroy the Bri- 
 tish fleet and army at a single blow, had failed to have effect. Desi- 
 rous, therefore, of achieving some other enterprise of importance, 
 %vhich might both honor their arms, and procure them an essential 
 advantage, they resolved to direct their operations against Rhode 
 Island. This expedition offered them greater facilities than any 
 other ; the situation of places being such that the land troops of the 
 Americans, and the naval forces of the French could lend each other 
 mutual assistance, and bring their joint energies to bear upon the 
 same point. This design had been concerted between the generals 
 of Congress and d' Estaing, while he lay at anchor off Sandy Hook. 
 General Sullivan had already been sent into that part, in order to take 
 the command of the troops destined for the expedition, and in the 
 meantime to assemble the militia of New England. General Greene 
 had likewise been directed to proceed to Rhode Island ; born in that 
 province, he possessed great credit and influence among its inhabit- 
 ants. The general of the British army, having penetrated the 
 design of the allies, had sent from New York considerable reenforce- 
 ments to major-general Pigot, who commanded in Rhode Island, 
 which carried his garrison to six thousand men. General Sullivan had 
 established his camp near Providence ; it was composed of about ten 
 thousand men, including militia. The plan which had been agreed 
 upon was, that while Sullivan should make a descent upon the island 
 from the northward, d' Estaing was to force the harbor of Newport 
 from the south, destroy the British shipping at anchor there, and assault 
 the town with vigor. The British garrison, thus pressed between two 
 fires, it was thought would soon, of necessity, be compelled to surrender. 
 
 The state of Rhode Island is principally composed of several adja- 
 cent islands, the largest of which gives its name to the whole pro- 
 vince. Between the eastern coast of this island and the main land, 
 is an arm of the sea, which, extending considerably towards the north, 
 expands into the bay of Mount Hope. This arm is denominated 
 Seaconnet, or the eastern passage. Between Rhode Island and the 
 island of Conanicut is another very narrow passage, named the Main 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 163 
 
 Channel. Finally, between the western coast of Conanicut island 
 and the main land is found a third arm of the sea, known by the 
 name of the western, or Narraganset passage. The town of New- 
 port is situated upon the western shore of Rhode Island Proper, 
 opposite to the island of Conanicut. At a short distance from the 
 town, to the northeast, rise a chain of hills which stretch almost across 
 the island from the eastern passage to the Main Channel. The 
 English had fortified these heights with much care, in order to cover 
 the town against an attack from the Americans, who were likely to 
 approach by the north part of the island. 
 
 General Pigot prepared himself for an able and vigorous defence. 
 He very prudently recalled the garrison of Conanicut island, and 
 concentrated his forces about Newport. He also withdrew into the 
 town the artillery and the cattle. The posts that were dispersed in 
 different parts of the island, and especially the soldiers who occupied 
 the northern point, were ordered to fall back upon the town as soon 
 as they should discover the enemy's approach. The part of the town 
 which looked towards the sea was fortified with extreme diligence ; 
 vessels of transport were sunk in such places as might obstruct the 
 approaches by water to the most important batteries, the rest were 
 burned. The frigates were removed higher up for safer moorings. 
 But to provide % the worst, they were stripped of their artillery and 
 stores. The seamen belonging to the vessels sunk or destroyed, were 
 employed to serve the artillery of the ramparts ; a service they well 
 understood, and greatly coveted. 
 
 Meanwhile, the count d' Estaing, on his departure from Sandy 
 Hook, after standing to the southward as far as the mouth of the 
 Delaware, changed his course and bore to the northeast upon Rhode 
 Island. He arrived the twenty-ninth of July at Point Judith, and 
 anchored with the most of his ships just without Brenton's Ledge, 
 about five miles from Newport. Two of his vessels went up the 
 Narraganset passage, and cast anchor to the north of Conanicut. 
 Several frigates entered the Seaconnet passage ; the English on their 
 approach set fire to a corvette and two armed gallies which had been 
 stationed, there. During several days the French admiral made no 
 attempt to penetrate the Main Channel, in order to attack the town 
 of Newport, as it had been concerted with the Americans. This 
 delay was occasioned by that of the reenforcements of militia which 
 general Sullivan expected, and which were deemed essential to the 
 security of the enterprise. Finally, the eighth of August, all the 
 preparations being completed, and the wind favorable, the French 
 squadron entered the harbor of Newport, and coasting the town, dis- 
 charged their broadsides into it, and received the fire of the batteries 
 on shore ; but little execution was done on either side. They anchor- 
 ed a little above the town, between Goats Island and Conanicut, but 
 nearest to the latter, which was already occupied by the Americans. 
 
164 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 The English, in the meantime, finding they could not save several 
 frigates and other vessels of Jess force, concluded to burn them. 
 
 The next day, general Sullivan, who had moved from Providence 
 down to that part of the main land which bears from the east upon 
 Rhode Island, crossed the Seaconnet passage at Howlands Ferry, 
 and landed with all his troops upon the north end of the island. It 
 appears that this movement was highly offensive to the count d' Es- 
 taing, who expected to have been the first to set foot on shore in the 
 island. General Sullivan hoped that the attack would now be delay- 
 ed no longer, when the same day, the ninth of August, signals 
 announced the whole squadron of lord Howe, who, on receiving 
 intelligence that Rhode Island was menaced by the French, had 
 hastened to the succour of general Pigot. Notwithstanding the 
 reenforcernent he had lately received, he was still inferior to his 
 enemy, considering the size of his ships, and their weight of metal. 
 His squadron, though more numerous, consisted of only one ship of 
 seventy-four, seven of sixty-four, and five of fifty guns, with several 
 frigates. He hoped, however, that fortune would offer him an occa- 
 sion to join battle with the advantage of wind, or of some other 
 circumstances. And certainly if, from the time he had taken the 
 resolution of moving to the relief of Rhode Island, the winds had 
 not retarded his progress, he would have arrived at^the very moment 
 vi hen the French squadron was dispersed in the different channels 
 formed by the adjacent islands ; in which case he would have had 
 all the chances of victory in his favor. But his passage was so 
 difficult, that he was unable to arrive till the day after that in which 
 the count d' Estaing had put himself in safety with all his fleet in the 
 Main Channel. 
 
 Having carefully examined, as well the nature of the places, as 
 the position of the French ships, and having also communicated to 
 the same end with general Pigot, the British admiral concluded that 
 there was no hope left him of succouring the town, especially as the 
 winds continued contrary. The harbor was so situated, the entrance 
 so narrow, the apparatus of defence in the island of Conanicut so 
 formidable, that the enterprise could not have been attempted, not 
 only by an inferior squadron, as was that of Howe, but even by a 
 greatly superior force, without temerity. For the same cause, if the 
 French admiral, agreeably to the plan concerted with Sullivan, had 
 been disposed to persist, and not to quit his station until he had 
 afforded that general all the cooperation in his power, there is good 
 reason to believe that the town of Newport would have fallen into 
 the hands of the allies. 
 
 But the count d' Estaing, like a true Frenchman, full of ardor 
 and impatience, upon a change of wind to the northeast, in the morn- 
 ing of the tenth, was seized with an impulse that he could not 
 master, to profit of this circumstance to sail out of the harbor, in 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 165 
 
 order to attack the enemy. He accordingly stood out to sea, in 
 search of the British fleet. Admiral Howe, on seeing so formidable 
 an armament advance to engage him, and being under the wind, 
 which gave the French the weathergage, declined coming to action, 
 and manoeuvred with great ability in order to gain that advantage for 
 liimself. A contest ensued for it, which lasted the whole day ; the 
 French admiral striving to retain it with equal eagerness. The wind 
 still continuing on the eleventh unfavorable to the British, Howe 
 resolved notwithstanding to meet the enemy. He therefore formed 
 his squadron so that it could be joined by three fire-ships, which 
 were towed by the frigates. The French also disposed their ships 
 in order of battle, and the moment already approached that was to 
 decide which of the two powerful adversaries should remain master 
 of the American seas. But at the same instant, a strong gale com- 
 menced, which, soon tifter increasing, became a violent storm. The 
 tempest, which lasted forty-eight hours, not only separated and dis- 
 persed the two fleets, but did them so much damage, that they were 
 both rendered unfit for action, and compelled to put into port to 
 repair. The French squadron suffered even more than the English, 
 especially in their masts and rigging. The Languedoc, of ninety 
 guns, the admiral's ship, lost her rudder and all her masts. Float- 
 ing in this condidbn, at the mercy of the currents, she was met by 
 the English ship Renown, of fifty guns, commanded by captain 
 Dawson, who attacked her with so much vigor and dexterity, that 
 had not darkness interposed, together with the gale, which had not 
 yet sufficiently abated, she must inevitably have struck ; as she 
 could only use seven or eight of her guns. Some French ships 
 appeared with the return of 'day. They bore down upon captain 
 Dawson, and gave chase, though without being able to come up with 
 him. But they at least delivered their admiral from the imminent 
 peril to which they found him exposed. 
 
 The same day, the English ship Preston, of fifty guns, fell in with 
 the Tonnant, of eighty, with only her mainmast standing. He at- 
 tacked her ; but was compelled by the coming on of night, to dis- 
 continue the engagement till next morning, when the appearance of 
 several French ships constrained him to withdraw. The British 
 squadron returned to Sandy Hook and New York, for the purpose 
 of refitting ; the repairs were pushed with the greatest diligence. 
 The French recovered the harbor of Newport. 
 
 In the meantime, general Sullivan, though impeded by bad wea- 
 ther, and other difficulties which had retarded the arrival of his stores 
 and artillery, had advanced very near to Newport. He already had 
 occupied Honeymans Hill, and was engaged with great activity in 
 constructing batteries. The besieged were not wanting to themselves ; 
 they erected new fortifications and new batteries, to answer those of 
 the Americans. But notwithstanding their efforts, if the count d' Es- 
 VOL. ii. 22 
 
166 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 taing, on returning from his more prejudicial than useful enterprise 
 upon the sea, had chosen to cooperate with the Americans, it is cer- 
 tain, that the position of general Pigot would have been excessively 
 critical. 
 
 Assailed on the one side by the Americans, the English could not 
 have hoped to defend themselves, if the French on the other, in 
 addition to the fire of their ships, had landed, as they easily might 
 have done, a strong detachment on the southern point of the island, 
 in order to assault the left flank of the town, which was known to be 
 the weakest. But the count d' Estaing had very different intentions. 
 He despatched a letter to Sullivan, informing him that, in pursuance 
 of orders from his sovereign, and of the advice of all his officers, he 
 had taken the resolution to carry the fleet to Boston. His instruc- 
 tions were, it is true, to sail for that port if his fleet should meet 
 'with any disaster, or if a superior British fleet should appear on the 
 coast. 
 
 The injuries sustained by the storm, and the information which 
 had been received that Byron had arrived at Halifax, were consi- 
 dered as producing the state of things contemplated by the instructions 
 of the ministry. The Americans, convinced that the departure of 
 the count d' Estaing would be the ruin of the expedition, added 
 entreaties to remonstrances, in order to dissuade him from so fatal 
 a measure. 
 
 Generals Greene and La Fayette besought him that he would not, 
 by persisting in his resolution, abandon the interests of the common 
 cause ; they represented to him the importance, to France, as well 
 as America, of the enterprise commenced ; that it was already so 
 well advanced as to leave no doubt of success ; that it could not be 
 relinquished in its present stage without shaming and disgusting the 
 Americans, who, confiding in the promised cooperation of the French 
 fleet, had undertaken it with alacrity, and made incredible exertions 
 -to provide the requisite stores ; that to be deserted at so critical a 
 moment would furnish a triumph to the disaffected, who would not 
 fail to exclaim, that such was French faith, and the fruit of the 
 alliance ; that the successive miscarriages of the Delaware, of Sandy 
 Hook, and finally this of Newport, could not but carry to its height 
 the exasperation of minds. They added, that with a fleet in so 
 shattered a condition, it would be very difficult to pass the shoals of 
 Nantucket ; that it could be repaired more conveniently at Newport 
 than at Boston ; and finally, that its present station afforded advan- 
 tages over Boston for distressing the enemy, while in the event of 
 the arrival of a superior fleet, it would be no more secure at Boston 
 than at Newport. All was fruitless. The count d' Estaing got 
 under sail the twenty-second of August, and three days after came 
 to anchor in the harbor of Boston. 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 167 
 
 Whatever is to be thought of this resolution of d' Estaing, which, 
 it appears, was not only approved, but even strenuously recommended 
 by his council, it is certain that it made a violent impression upon 
 the minds of the republicans, and excited loud clamors throughout 
 America. The militia, who with so much zeal had hastened to join 
 Sullivan in Rhode Island, finding themselves thus deserted by their 
 allies, immediately disbanded, so that the besiegers were reduced in 
 a short time from about ten thousand men to not more than half that 
 number, while the force of the enemy consisted of six thousand 
 veterans. 
 
 In so abrupt a reverse of fortune, and seeing the allied fleet retire, 
 while that of the enemy approached, the American general soon 
 determined to fall back upon the main land, and evacuate the island 
 entirely. He began the twenty-sixth of August to pass his heavy 
 artillery and baggage towards the northern point of the island, and 
 on the twenty-ninth he put himself in motion, with all the army. 
 Though warmly pursued by the English and Hessians, he rejoined his 
 van without loss. But the enemy coming up in more force, there 
 ensued a very hot affair in the environs of Quaker Hill, in which 
 many soldiers fell on both sides. At length, the Americans repulsed 
 the English with admirable resolution. In the night of the thirtieth, 
 the corps of Su-llivan recovered the main land by the passages of 
 Bristol and Howlands Ferry. Such was the issue of an expedition, 
 undertaken not only with the fairest prospect of success, but which 
 had been carried to the very threshold of a brilliant termination. 
 The American general made his retreat in time ; for the next day 
 general Clinton arrived with four thousand men and a light squadron, 
 to the relief of Newport. If the winds had favored him more, or if 
 general Sullivan had been less prompt to retreat, assailed in the 
 island by an enemy whose force was double his own, and his way to 
 the continent intercepted by the English vessels, his position would 
 have been little less than desperate. His prudence received merited 
 acknowledgments on the part of Congress. 
 
 Admiral Howe having refitted his ships with astonishing despatch, 
 stood out to sea, and sailed towards Boston. He hoped to arrive 
 there before his adversary, and consequently to intercept his retreat 
 thither, or at least to attack him in the outer harbor. He arrived, 
 indeed, on the thirtieth of August, in the bay of Boston. But he 
 was unable to accomplish either the one or the other of his designs ; 
 the count d' Estaing was already in port ; and the batteries erected 
 by the Americans upon the most commanding points of the coast 
 rendered all attack impracticable. The British admiral, therefore, 
 returned to New York, where he found a reenforcement of several 
 ships, which rendered his fleet superior to that of the French. 
 He availed himself of this circumstance, and of the permission he 
 had received some time before, to resign the command to admiral 
 
I6b THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X, 
 
 Gambler, until the arrival of admiral Byron upon that station, which 
 took place the sixteenth of Septemher. Lord Howe soon -after 
 returned to England. This illustrious seamen rendered important 
 services to his country, in the campaigns of Pennsylvania, New York 
 and Rhode Island, services which would have had more brilliant 
 results, if the ability of the commanders on shore had equalled his 
 own. Even to say nothing of the activity he displayed in transport- 
 ing to a distant country so numerous an army as that of his brother 
 sir William, the talent and firmness with which he surmounted the 
 obstacles that opposed his entrance into the Delaware, deserve the 
 highest commendation. When the count d' Estaing made his 
 appearance with a formidable fleet, and much superior to his own, 
 he nevertheless prepared to receive him at Sandy Hook ; afterwards 
 by offering him battle he baffled his designs a gainst Newport ; and 
 then the French admiral, disabled by the tempest, forced to seek 
 refuge in the port of Boston, issued no more, except to make the 
 best of his way to the West Indies; thus totally abandoning the 
 execution of the plan concerted by the allies for the campaign of 
 this year upon the coasts of America. Finding Newport secure, 
 general Clinton returned to New York He afterwards detached 
 general Grey, who was at New London, upon an expedition of much 
 importance, towards the east. Buzzards Bay, and the adjacent 
 rivers, served as a retreat for a multitude of privateers, the number 
 and boldness of which occasioned infinite prejudice to the British 
 commerce of New York, Long Island and Rhode Island. Clinton 
 resolved to chastise an enemy that seemed to defy him, and to put 
 an end to his maritime excursions. This task was committed to the 
 charge of general Grey. He arrived with some transports, effected 
 his landing in the bay, and destroyed about sixty large vessels, 
 besides a number of small craft. Proceeding then to New Bedford 
 and Fair Havep, upon the banks of the river Acushnet, and con- 
 ducting himself more like a pirate than a real soldier, he destroyed 
 or burned warehouses of immense value, full of sugar, rum, molasses, 
 tobacco, drugs and other merchandise. Not content with these 
 ravages, he passed into the neighboring island, called Martha's Vine- 
 yard, the soil of which is very fertile, and which served as a refuge 
 for the most daring cruisers. He levied on the inhabitants a contri- 
 bution of live stock, to the great refreshment of the garrisons of New 
 York. He carried off, besides, a considerable quantity of arms and 
 ammunition. 
 
 Returned to New York, he soon undertook another expedition, 
 against the village of Old Tappan, where he surprised a regiment of 
 American light horse. His conduct on this occasion was not exempt 
 from the reproach of cruelty. A few days after, the English made 
 an incursion against Little Egg Harbor, upon ihe coast of New 
 Jersey, where they destroyed much shipping, and brought off a 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 169 
 
 considerable booty. They afterwards attacked by surprise the legion 
 of Pulaski, and made great slaughter of it. The carnage would 
 have been still greater, if Pulaski had not come up, with his usual 
 bravery, at the head of his cavalry. The English reembarked, and 
 returned to New York. 
 
 It was at this epoch that the French and American generals medi- 
 tated a new expedition against Canada. Besides the possession of 
 so important a province, there appeared a possibility of ruining the 
 British fisheries upon the banks of Newfoundland, and, by reducing 
 the cities of Quebec and Halifax, of putting an end to the maritime 
 power of England upon those shores. The French were the princi- 
 pal movers of this enterprise ; their minister, and d' Estaing, perhaps, 
 with covert views; the marquis de la Fayette, whose youth answered 
 for his ignorance of these political wiles, with frankness, and from 
 the love of glory. He was to have been employed in the expedition 
 as one of the first generals. The count d' Estaing published a 
 manifesto, addressed to the Canadians in the name of his king, in 
 which, after reminding them of their French origin, their ancient 
 exploits, and happiness they had enjoyed under the paternal sceptre 
 of the Bourbons, he declared that all the ancient subjects of the king 
 in North America, who should cease to acknowledge the English 
 domination, should find safety and protection. But Washington 
 showed himself opposed to this project, and he developed his motives 
 to the Congress ; his opinion prevailed. 
 
 The Congress alleged that their finances, their arsenals, their 
 magazines, their armies, were not in a state to warrant the undertaking 
 of so vast an enterprise ; and that they should experience too pungent 
 regrets to find themselves in the event unable to. fulfill their engage- 
 ments towards their allies. Such was their public language ; but the 
 truth is, they apprehended a snare, and that the conquest of Canada 
 would have been made for France, and not for America. 
 
 The retreat of the count d' Estaing, at the moment when Newport 
 was about to fall into the power of the combined armies, had greatly 
 irritated the minds of the Americans, particularly in the northern pro- 
 vinces. Many began to entertain a loathing towards allies who seemed 
 to for^t all interests except their own. To this motive of aversion 
 was added the remembrance, still recent, especially with the lower 
 classes, of ancient quarrels and national jealousies, which the new 
 alliance, and the need of French succours, had not sufficed to 
 obliterate. Washington and other leading Americans endeavored to 
 appease these discontents, which, they foresaw, might lead to serious 
 mis'-hief. The count d' Estaing, on his part, was no Jess careful 
 during his stay in the port of Boston, not only lo avoid all occasion of 
 misunderstanding, but also to conciliate by every means in his power 
 the affection of his new allies. The conduct of the French officers, 
 and even of the common sailors, was truly exemplary. This extreme 
 
170 THE AMERICAN WAR. t BOOK X. 
 
 circumspection, however, did not prevent the occurrence, on the 
 thirteenth of September, of a violent affray between some Bostonians 
 and the French. The latter were overpowered by number, and the 
 chevalier de saint Sauveur lost his life in it. The selectmen of the 
 town, to allay the resentment of the French, showed themselves very 
 solicitous to punish the offenders. They published a reward to 
 whoever should make known the authors of the tumult. They 
 declared, at the same time, that the citizens had not been in fault, 
 but English sailors made prisoners by the cruisers, and deserters 
 from the army of Burgoyne, who had enlisted in the Boston priva- 
 teers. Tranquillity was restored. The count d' Estaing, whether 
 he was satisfied, or that from prudence he chose to appear so. made 
 no further inquiry into this affair. No offender was discovered. The 
 government of Massachusetts decreed a monument to be erected to 
 saint Sauveur. 
 
 The night of the sixth of the same month of September had wit- 
 nessed a scene far more serious, at Charleston, South Carolina, 
 between the French and American sailors. It terminated in a formal 
 battle. The Americans were the first to provoke their allies by 
 the most reproachful language ; the latter resented it. From words 
 it came to blows ; the French were soon driven out of the city, and 
 forced to take refuge on board their ships. Thence they fired with 
 artillery and musketry against the town ; the Americans, on their 
 part, fired upon the French vessels from the adjoining wharves and 
 shore. Many lives were lost on both sides. A reward of a thousand 
 pounds sterling was promised, but in vain, to whoever should discover 
 the authors of this broil. The comrnander-in-chief of the province 
 exhorted the inhabitants, in a proclamation, to consider the French 
 as good and faithful allies, and friends. There was even a law 
 passed, about this time, to prevent the recurrence of similar licen- 
 tiousness, whether of words or actions. Thus ended the riots of 
 Boston and of Charleston, which were attributed, if not with truth, 
 at least with prudence, to British artifice and instigation. For the 
 chiefs of the American government were not without apprehension 
 that these animosities might deprive them of their new allies, whose 
 resolutions, they knew, were not irrevocable. 
 
 The savages took a more active part than ever in the campaign of 
 this year. Though they had been intimidated by the success of 
 general Gates, and had sent him congratulations for himself and the 
 United States, the intrigues and presents of the British agents had 
 not lost their power over them. Moreover, the emigrant colonists, 
 who had retired amongst these barbarians, excited them continually 
 .by instigations, which, together with their natural thirst for blood and* 
 pillage, determined them without scruple to make incursions upon 
 the northern frontiers, where they spread terror and desolation. 
 The most ruthless chiefs that guided them in these sanguinary expe- 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 17 f 
 
 ditions, were colonel Butler, who had already signalised himself in 
 this war. and a certain Brandt, born of mixed blood, the most fero- 
 cious being ever produced by human nature, often too prodigal of 
 similar monsters. They spared neither age, nor sex, nor condition, 
 nor even their own kindred ; every where indiscriminately they carried 
 devastation and death. The knowledge which the refugees had of 
 the country, the insulated position of the habitations, scattered here 
 and there in the wilderness, the distance from the seat of government, 
 and the necessity of employing the national force in other remote 
 parts, offered the Indians every facility for executing their enterprises, 
 and retiring with impunity. No means had hitherto been found of 
 repressing the inroads of so cruel an enemy. 
 
 But in the midst of this general devastation, there happened an 
 event which, perhaps, would be found without example in the history 
 of inhuman men. Inhabitants of Connecticut, had planted on the 
 eastern branch of the Susquehanna, towards the extremity of Penn- 
 sylvania, and upon the road of Oswego, the settlement of Wyoming. 
 Populous and flourishing, its prosperity was the subject of admiration. 
 It consisted of eight townships, each containing a square of five miles, 
 beautifully situated on both sides of the river. The mildness of the 
 climate answered to the fertility of the soil. The inhabitants were 
 strangers alike to excessive wealth, which elates and depraves, and 
 to poverty, which discourages and degrades. All lived in a happy 
 mediocrity, frugal of their own, and coveting nothing from others. 
 Incessantly occupied in rural toils, they avoided idleness, and all the 
 vices of which it is the source. In a word, this little country pre- 
 sented in reality the image of those fabulous times which the poets 
 have described under the name of the Golden Jlge. But their 
 domestic felicity was no counterpoise to the zeal with which they 
 were animated for the common cause ; they took up arms and flew 
 to succour their country. It is said they had furnished to the army 
 no less than a thousand soldiers, a number truly prodigious for so 
 feeble a population, and so happy in their homes. Yet, notwith- 
 standing the drain of all this vigorous youth, the abundance of 
 harvests sustained no diminution. Their crowded granaries, and 
 pastures replenished with fat cattle, offered an exhaustless resource 
 to the American army. 
 
 But neither so many advantages, nor even the retired situation of 
 these unfortunate colonists, could exempt them from the baneful 
 influence of party spirit. Although the lories, as they called them, 
 were not so numerous as the partisans of liberty, yet they challenged 
 attention by the arrogance of their character and the extent of their 
 pretensions. Hence, not only families were seen armed against 
 families, but even sons sided against their fathers, brothers against 
 brothers, and, at last, wives against husbands. So true it is, that no 
 irtue is proof against the fanaticism of opinion, and no happiness 
 
172 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 against political divisions. The lories were, besides, exasperated at 
 their losses in the incursions they had made in company with the 
 savages in the preceding campaign ; but that which envenomed them 
 the m )st was, that several individuals of the same party, who, having 
 quitted their habitations, were coma to claim hospitality, then so much 
 in honor among the Americans, and particularly at Wyoming, had 
 been arrested as suspected persons, and sent to take their trial in 
 Connecticut. Others had been expelled from the colony. Thus 
 hatreds became continually more and more rancorous. The lories 
 swore revenge ; they coalesced with the Indians. The lime was 
 favorable, as the youth of Wyoming were at the army. In order 
 the better to secure success, and to surprise their enemies before they 
 should think of standing upon their defence, they resorted to artifice. 
 They pretended the most friendly dispositions, while they meditated 
 only war and vengeance. 
 
 A few weeks before they purposed to execute their horrible enter- 
 prise, they sent several messengers, charged with protestations of 
 their earnest desire to cultivate peace. These perfidies lulled the 
 inhabitants of Wyoming into a deceitful security, while they procured 
 the lories and savages the means of concerting with their partisans, 
 and of observing the immediate state of the colony. Notwithstand- 
 ing the solemn assurances of the Indians, the colonists, as it often 
 happens when great calamities are about to fall on a people, seemed 
 to have a son of presentiment of their approaching fate. They 
 wrote to Washington, praying him to send them immediate assistance. 
 Their despatches did not reach him ; they were intercepted by the 
 Pennsylvania!! loyalists ; and they would, besides, have arrived too 
 late. The savages had already made their appearance upon the 
 frontiers of the colony ; the plunder they had made there was of 
 little importance, but the cruelties they had "perpetrated were affright- 
 ful ; the mournful prelude of those more terrible scenes which were 
 shortly to follow ! 
 
 About the commencement of the month of July, the Indians sud- 
 denly appeared in force upon the banks of the Susquehanria. They 
 were headed by the John Butler and Brandt already named, with 
 other chiefs of their nation, distinguished by their extreme ferocity 
 in the preceding expeditions. This troop amounted in all to sixteen 
 hundred men, of whom less than a fourth were Indians, and the rest 
 lories, disguised and painted to resemble them. The officers, how- 
 ever, wore the uniforms of their rank, and had the appearance of 
 regulars. The colonists of Wyoming, finding their friends so remote, 
 and their enemies so near, had constructed for their security four 
 forls, in which, and upon different points of the frontier, they had 
 distributed about five hundred men. The whole colony was placed 
 under the command of Zebulon Butler, cousin of John, a man, who 
 with some courage, was totally devoid of capacity. He was even 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 173 
 
 accused of treachery ; but this imputation is not proved. It is at 
 least certain that one of the forts which stood nearest to the frontiers, 
 was intrusted to soldiers infected with the opinions of the tories, and 
 who gave it up, without resistance, at the first approach of the enemy. 
 The second, on being vigorously assaulted, surrendered at discretion. 
 The savages spared, it is true, the women and children, but butchered 
 all the rest without exception. Zebulon then withdrew, with all his 
 people, into the principal fort, called Kingston. The old men, the 
 women, the children, the sick, in a word all that were unable to bear 
 arms repaired thither in throngs, and uttering lamentable cries, as to 
 the last refuge where any hope of safety remained. The position 
 was susceptible of defence ; and if Zebulon had held firm he might 
 have hoped to withstand the enemy until the arrival of succours. 
 But John Butler was lavish of promises in order to draw him out, 
 in which he succeeded, by persuading him that if he would consent 
 to a parley in the open field, the siege would soon be raised and 
 every thing accommodated. John retired, in fact, with all his corps ; 
 Zebulon afterwards marched out to the place appointed for the con- 
 ference, at a considerable distance from the fort ; from motives of 
 caution, he took with him four hundred men well armed^ being nearly 
 the whole strength of his garrison. If this step was not dictated by 
 treachery, it must, at least, be attributed to a very strange simplicity. 
 Having come to the spot agreed on, Zebulon found no living being 
 there. Reluctant to return without an interview, he advanced towards 
 the foot of a mountain, at a still greater distance from the fort, hoping 
 he might there find some person to confer with. The farther he 
 proceeded in this dismal solitude, the more he had occasion to remark 
 that no token appeared of the presence or vicinity of human crea- 
 tures. Btit far from halting, as if impelled by an irresistible destiny, 
 he continued his march. The country, meanwhile, began to be 
 overshaded by thick forests; at length, in a winding path, he 
 perceived a flag, which seemed to wave him on. The individual 
 who bore it, as if afraid of treachery from his side, retired as he 
 advanced, still making the spime signals. But already the Indians, 
 who knew the country, profiting of the obscurity of the woods, had 
 completely surrounded him. The unfortunate American, without 
 suspicion of the peril he was in, continued to press forward, in order 
 to r&sure the traitors that he would not betray them. He was 
 awakened but too soon from this dream of security ; in an instant 
 the savages sprung from their ambush, and fell upon him with 
 hideous yells. . 
 
 He formed his little troop into a compact column, and showed 
 more presence of mind in danger tha*i he had manifested in the 
 negotiations. Though surprised, the Americans exhibited such 
 vigor and resolution that the advantage was rather on their side ; 
 when a soldier, either through treachery or cowardice, cried out 
 VOL. n. 23 
 
174 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X, 
 
 aloud, c the colonel has ordered a retreat.' The Americans imme- 
 diately brake, the savages leap in among the ranks, and a horrible 
 carnage ensues. The fugitives fall by missiles, the resisting by clubs 
 and tomahawks. The wounded overturn those that are not, the 
 dead and the dying are heaped together promiscuously. Happy 
 those who expire the soonest ! The savages reserve the living for 
 tortures ! and the infuriate lories, if other arms fail them, mangle the 
 prisoners with their nails! Never was rout so deplorable; never 
 was massacre accompanied with so many horrors. Nearly all the 
 Americans perished ; about sixty escaped from the butchery, and 
 with Zebulon, made their way good to a redoubt upon the other 
 bank of the Susquehanna. 
 
 The conquerors invested Kingston anew, and to dismay the relics 
 of the garrison by the most execrable spectacle, they hurled into the 
 place above two hundred scalps, still reeking with the blood of their 
 slaughtered brethren. Colonel Dennison, who commanded the fort, 
 seeing the impossibility of defence, sent out a flag to inquire of 
 Butler what terms would be allowed the garrison, on surrendering 
 the fort ? He answered, with all the fellness of his inhuman charac- 
 ter, and in a single word the hatchet. Reduced to this dreadful 
 extremity, the colonel still made what resistance he could. At length, 
 having lost almost all his soldiers, he surrendered at discretion. The 
 savages entered the fort and began to drag out the vanquished, who, 
 knowing the hands they were in, expected no mercy. But impa- 
 tient of the tedious process of murder in detail, the barbarians after- 
 wards bethought themselves of enclosing the men, women and 
 children promiscuously in the houses and barracks, to which they 
 set fire and consumed all within, listening, delighted, to the moans 
 and shrieks of the expiring multitude. 
 
 The fort of Wilkesbarre still remained in the power of the colo- 
 nists of Wyoming. The victors presented themselves before it ; 
 those within hoping to find mercy, surrendered at discretion, and 
 without resistance. But if opposition exasperated those ferocious 
 men, or rather these tigers, insatiable of human blood, submission 
 did not soften them. Their rage was principally exercised upon the 
 soldiers of the garrison ; all of whom they put to death, with a bar- 
 barity ingenious in tortures. As for the rest, men, women, and chil- 
 dren, who appeared to them not to merit any special attention, they 
 burned them as before, in the houses and barracks. The forts beins; 
 fallen into their hands, the barbarians proceeded without obstacle, to 
 the devastation of the country. They employed at once fire, sword, 
 and all instruments of destruction. The crops, of every description, 
 were consigned to the flames. The habitations, granaries, and other 
 constructions, the fruit of years of human industry, sunk in ruin 
 under the destructive strokes of these cannibals. But who will 
 believe that their fury, not yet satiated upon human creatures, was 
 
BOOK X. THE AMERICAN WAR. 175 
 
 also wreaked upon the very beasts f That they cut out the tongues 
 of the horses and cattle, and left them to wander in the midst of 
 those fields lately so luxuriant, and now in desolation, seeming to 
 enjoy the torments of their lingering death ? 
 
 We have long hesitated whether we ou^ht to relate particular 
 instances of this demoniac cruelty ; the bare remembrance of them 
 makes us shudder. But on reflecting that these examples may 
 deter good princes from war, and citizens from civil discord, we 
 have deemed it useful to record them. Captain Bedlock, having 
 been stripped naked, the savages stuck sharp pine splinters into all 
 parts of his body ; and then a heap of knots of the same wood being 
 piled round him, the whole was set on fire, and his two companions, 
 the captains Ranson and Durgee, thrown alive into the flames. The 
 tories appeared to vie with, and even, to surpass, the savages in bar- 
 barity. One of them, whose mother had married a second husband, 
 butchered her with his own hand, and afterwards massacred his 
 father-in-law, his own sisters, and their infants in the cradle. Ano- 
 ther killed his own father, and exterminated all his family. A third 
 imbrued his hands in the blood of his brothers, his sisters, his brother- 
 in-law, and his father-in-law. 
 
 These were a part only of the horrors perpetrated by the loyalists 
 and Indians, at the excision of Wyoming. Other atrocities, if possi- 
 ble, still more abominable, we leave in silence. 
 
 Those who had survived the massacres were no less worthy of 
 commiseration ; they were women and children, who had escaped 
 to the woods at the time their husbands and fathers expired under 
 the blows of the barbarians. Dispersed and wandering in the forests, 
 as chance and fear directed their steps, without clothes, without food, 
 without guide, these defenceless fugitives suffered every degree of 
 distress. Several of the women were delivered alone in the woods, 
 at a great distance from every possibility of relief. The most robust 
 and resolute alone escaped ; the others perished ; their bodies and 
 those of their hapless infants became the prey of wild beasts. Thus 
 the most flourishing colony then existing in America was totally 
 erased. 
 
 The destruction of Wyoming, and the cruelties which accompa- 
 nied it, filled all the inhabitants of America with horror, with com- 
 passion, and with indignant fury. They fully purposed on a future 
 day to exact a condign vengeance ; but, in the present state of the 
 war, it was not in their power to execute their intent immediately. 
 They undertook, however, this year, some expeditions against the 
 Indians. Without being of decisive importance, they deserve to be 
 remarked for the courage and ability 'with which they were exe- 
 cuted. Colonel Clarke, at the head of a strong detachment, marched 
 from Virginia against the settlements established by the Canadians 
 on the upper Mississippi, in the country of the Illinois. 
 
176 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xi 
 
 He purposed also to chastise, even in their most sequestered 
 receptacles, this ruthless race. Having descended the Ohio, he 
 directed his march northward, towards Kaskaskias, the principal 
 village of the Canadian establishments. The republicans came upon 
 the inhabitants in sleep, and met with very little resistance. They 
 afterwards scoured the adjacent country, and seized other places of 
 the settlement. Filled with dismay, the inhabitants hastened to 
 swear allegiance to the United States. Thence, colonel Clarke 
 marched against the barbarian tribes ; he penetrated into their 
 inmost retreats and most secret recesses, and put all to sword and 
 fire. 
 
 The savages experienced in their own huts and families those 
 calamities which they had so frequently carried borne to others. 
 This castigation rendered them, for a while, more timid in their 
 excursions, and encouraged the Americans to defend themselves. 
 
 A similar expedition was undertaken, some time after, by another 
 colonel Butler, against the tories and Indians of the banks of the 
 Susquehanna ; the same who had been the authors of the ruin of 
 Wyoming. He ravaged and burned several villages, the houses, 
 barns, harvests, mills, every thing was laid in ashes and desolation. 
 The inhabitants had been apprised in season, and had made their 
 escape, else they would doubtless have paid dearly for Wyoming. 
 The Americans having accomplished their object, retired within their 
 limits, but not without having encountered excessive fatigues and no 
 little peril. Thus terminated the Indian war of this year. The 
 republicans had not only to combat the English in front, and to repel 
 the savages and refugees who assailed them in rear ; they were also 
 not a little infested by the disaffected within the country. Of this 
 class none were more animated than the Quakers. At first, they 
 had embraced, or at least appeared to embrace, the principles of the 
 revolution, and even still there existed among them several of the 
 most distinguished patriots, such as generals Greene and MifiTin. 
 Nevertheless, the greater numbec inclined for England, whether 
 because they were weary of the length of the war, or that they had 
 merely desired the reformation of the laws, and not independence. 
 Perhaps too, they had persuaded themselves, that after the conquest 
 of Philadelphia, all America would be reduced, without difficulty, 
 and that therefore it was useful to their interests to appease the 
 victor by a prompt submission, in order to obtain favors from the 
 British government, which would be refused to the more obstinate. 
 They at least showed themselves forward to serve the English, as 
 guides and as spies. Several of them, as we have related, had been 
 sent out of the state, or imprisoned. Some had even suffered at 
 Philadelphia the penalties denounced against those who conspired 
 against liberty, and held correspondence with the enemy. The 
 republicans hoped, by these examples, to cure the restless spirit of 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. 177 
 
 the opposite party. The efforts of the discontented were not how- 
 lever greatly to be feared ; the open assurance and consent of the 
 friends of the revolution easi4y triumphed over the secret artifices of 
 j their adversaries. 
 
 In the meantime, the marquis de la Fayette, desiring to serve his 
 kins: in the war, which he doubted not was about to break out in 
 Europe, and hoping also to promote by his representations the cause 
 of the United States with the French government, requested of Con- 
 gress permission to repass the Atlantic. 
 
 Washington, who bore him a sincere affection, and who considered, 
 besides, the importance of his name, was desirous that only a tempo- 
 rary leave might be granted him, without the discontinuance of his 
 appointments. He wrote to Congress, accordingly, and they readily 
 acceded to his views; they, moreover, addressed a letter to the mar- 
 quis, returning him their thanks for the disinterested zeal which led 
 him to America, and for the services he had rendered to the United 
 States, by the exertion of his courage and abilities on so many signal 
 occasions. They also directed doctor Franklin to present him with 
 a sword decorated with devices commemorative of his achievements. 
 Finally, they recommended him strongly to the most Christian king. 
 The marquis de la Fayette took leave of Congress, and sailed for 
 Europe, with the intention of returning as soon as possible. On his 
 arrival in France, he was received equally well by the king and by 
 the people. Franklin delivered him the sword, engraved with the 
 emblems of his brilliant exploits. He was represented wounding the 
 British lion, and receiving a branch of laurel from the hands of Ame- 
 rica, released from her chains. America herself was figured by a 
 crescent, with these words ; Crescam, ut prosim. On the other side 
 was inscribed, Cur non ? the motto which M. de la Fayette had 
 chosen at his departure from France. This masterpiece of art ap- 
 peared a recompense worthy of the valiant defender of America. 
 
 The count d' Estaing still lay at anchor in the harbor of Boston, 
 where he was occupied in victualling his fleet. This operation would 
 have been of very difficult accomplishment, from the scarcity of wheat 
 experienced by the northern colonies since the interruption of their 
 commerce with those of the south, if the privateers of New England 
 had not made so considerable a number of prizes, that not only the 
 fleet, but also the inhabitants of Massachusetts and Connecticut were 
 thereby abundantly supplied. Admiral Byron was no sooner arrived 
 at New York, than he applied himself with the utmost diligence to 
 refitting his ships, in order to resume the sea. The moment he was 
 prepared for it, he got under sail, and stood for Boston, for the pur- 
 pose of observing the motions of the French squadron. But the 
 adverse fortune which attended him frorri Europe to America, seem- 
 ed still to pursue him on these shores. A furious tempest having 
 driven him off the coast, his ships were again so damaged and shat- 
 
178 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X. 
 
 lered, that he was constrained to take shelter in Rhode Island. The; 
 count d' Estaiug embraced this opportunity of quitting the harbor of 
 Bnston unmolested, and sailed the third of November for the West 
 Indies; where he was called by the orders of his sovereign, and the 
 events of the war. The English, well knowing his designs, and the 
 weakness of the garrisons in the islands of their dependency, com- 
 modore Hot ham departed the same day from Sandy Hook, and also 
 shaped his course for the West Indies, with six ships of war. They 
 had on board five thousand land troops, commanded by major-gene- 
 ral Grant. Admiral Byron followed him the fourteenth of Decem- 
 ber, wiih all his fleet. 
 
 About the same time colonel Campbell embarked at New York, 
 with a strong corps of English and Germans, upon an expedition 
 against Georgia. He was convoyed by commodore Hyde Parker, 
 with a squadron of a few ships. Thus the theatre of the war, after 
 several campaigns in the provinces of the north and of 'he centre, 
 was all at once transported into the islands and states of the south. 
 
 END OF BOOK TENTH. 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 179 
 
 BOOK ELEVENTH. 
 
 1778. D' ESTAING and Hotham,. were not yet arrived in the 
 West Indies, when commodore Evans had made a descent upon the 
 two islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon, both very favorahly situated 
 for the fishery of Newfoundland. Being almost without defence, he 
 occupied them easily ; and, as if he had wished to efface every ves- 
 tige of the French domination, he imitated the conduct of barbarians, 
 and utterly destroyed (he habitations, storehouses, and scaffoldings 
 which hud been constructed for the use of the fishery. He after- 
 wards embarked all the inhabitants, who, with the garrisons, amount- 
 ed to two thousand souls, and sent them to Europe. 
 
 The French made themselves ample amends for this loss, by seiz- 
 ing, as they did soon' after, the island of Dominica ; which being 
 situated between Guadeloupe and Martinico, was of ihe iasi ron&e- 
 quence to the future operations in that part. Of this the British 
 government was not ignorant, and therefore had fortified it with dili- 
 gence, and furnished it with a formidable artillery. But, neither the 
 garrison nor the munitions corresponded to the importance of its local 
 position ; the public magazines were nearly empty, and all the sol- 
 diers in the island scarcely amounted to five hundred ; the greater 
 part militia. For a long time, the members of the opposition in par- 
 liament, and the merchants of London, had complained aloud that 
 the islands of the West Indies were left without sufficient garrisons, 
 and, as it were, abandoned to the discretion of the enemy. But all 
 these remonstrances had been vain ; whether the war of America had 
 absorbed all the cares of the ministers, or that it had deprived them 
 of the means of sending troops into those islands. The French, on 
 the contrary, were in such force in their colonies, as to be in a con- 
 dition not only to defend themselves, but also to attack their neigh- 
 bors. Moreover, they had been the first to receive the news of the 
 declaration of war in Europe. The English frigates despatched to 
 announce it, had fallen into the power of the French, upon the coasts 
 of St. Domingo ; so that admiral Barrmgton, who was stationed at 
 Barbadoes with two ships of the line and two frigates, was first 
 informed of the state of affairs from the manifesto published at Mar- 
 tinico, by the marquis cle Bouille, governor of that island. The 
 capture of the frigates had likewise apprised him, that war was not 
 only declared, but commenced. This admiral showed himself very 
 undecided with respect to the course he had to pursue ; not having 
 new instructions, he felt bound to adhere to the old, which required 
 him to continue in the station of Barbadoes. 
 
 The marquis de Bouille, an active man, and prompt in taking his 
 resolutions, willing to avail himself of the uncertainty and weakness 
 
THE AMERICAN WAIl. BOOK XI. 
 
 of the English, determined to commence his operations with an 
 enterprise of importance. Having embarked with two thousand land 
 troops in eighteen transports, under convoy of the frigates Tourterelle, 
 Diiigente, and Amphitrite, he arrived at the island of Dominica, the 
 seventh of September, about daybreak. He immediately put all his 
 forces on shore. M. de Fonteneau, protected by* the fire of the 
 Diligente, pushed forward to Fort Cachac, and seized it without 
 resistance. The English cannonaded briskly from Fort Roseau, and 
 the battery of Lubieres. Nevertheless, M. de la Chaise, at the head 
 of the rangers of the Auxerrese regiment, advanced impetuously up 
 to the battery ; the French soldiers entered by the embrasures, and, 
 grappling the mouths of the cannon, made themselves masters of them. 
 During this time, the viscount de Damas had gained the heights 
 which commanded Fort Roseau, and the marquis de Bouille, with 
 the main body of his troops, had entered the suburbs. The frigate 
 Tourterelle also battered the fort on her^part; the English, however, 
 defended themselves with vigor. But at length, governor Stuart, 
 seeing his forces so inferior, and the French about to scale for the 
 assault, demanded to capitulate. The marquis de Bouille, whether 
 with intent to engage by his moderation the governors of other Eng- 
 lish islands to surrender more easily, or because he feared the arrival 
 of Barrington, who was very near, or, as it should be presumed, 
 merely consulting the generosity of his own character, granted the 
 most honorable conditions to the enemy. The garrison were treated 
 with all the honors of war, and the inhabitants secured in the posses- 
 sion of all their property ; no change was to be made in the laws or 
 the administration of justice. If, at the termination of the war, the 
 island should be ceded to France, they were to have the option of 
 retaining their present system of government, or of conforming to that 
 established in the French islands. They were also to be at liberty, in 
 such case, to retire with all their property, wherever they might see 
 fit; those who should remain, were not to be bound to any duty to 
 the king of France, more than what they had owed to their natural 
 sovereign. 
 
 The French found on the fortifications and in the magazines an 
 hundred and sixty-four pieces of excellent cannon, and twenty-four 
 mortars, besides a certain quantity of military stores. The privateers 
 that were found in the ports of the island, Were either destroyed or 
 carried away. The capitulation was observed with the strictest fide- 
 lity ; no kind of plunder or irregularity was permitted. As a recom- 
 pense for their services upon this occasion, the general distributed 
 among his soldiers a pecuniary gratification. He remained but a 
 short time at Dominica, and having left the marquis Duchilleau for 
 governor, with a garrison of fifteen hundred men, he returned to Mar- ' 
 tinico. But if the moderation and generosity of the marquis de 
 Bouille were deserving of the highest encomium, the conduct of 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 181 
 
 Duchilleau wns no less memorable for its violence and inhumanity. 
 He countenanced the unbridled licentiousness of his troops, and thus 
 abandoned, as it were, the vanquished to the discretion of the victors. 
 Such are the deplorable effects of national hatred ! The inhabitants 
 of Dominica were not delivered from the rigorous domination of 
 Duchilleau until peace was reestablished between the two states. 
 
 As soon as he was informed of the attack upon Dominica, admi- 
 ral Barrington, deeming the importance of the occurrence as para- 
 mount to his instructions, sailed with all possible speed to its assistance, 
 in order, if not too late, to frustrate the attempt of the enemy. But 
 he did not arrive until the marquis de Bouille was already in safety 
 under the cannon of Martinico. His presence, however, contributed 
 much to reassure the inhabitants of the neighboring English islands, 
 whom the fate of Dominica and their own defenceless condition, had 
 filled with consternation. 
 
 But this expedition was only the prelude to more important events, 
 which succeeded soon after. The count d' Estaing and commodore 
 Hotham had taken their departure for the West Indies, as we have 
 related, on the same day; the first for Martinico, the second for 
 Barbadoes. The two fleets sailed in a parallel direction during great 
 part of the voyage, and very near each other, but without knowing 
 any thing of their proximity ; the English, however, suspecting the 
 danger, were extremely careful to keep their squadron as close and 
 collected as possible. Jf it consisted of smaller vessels than those 
 of the French, it was also much more numerous. The count 
 d' Estaing, if he had been at all aware of the real state of things, might 
 have profited of his great superiority to overwhelm the British fleet, 
 and especially its numerous vessels of transport, which carried out 
 the land forces, wherein consisted the only means of preserving to 
 the British crown its rich possessions in those seas. A violent storm, 
 however, having dispersed the two fleets, three English vessels fell 
 in with those of the French, and were taken. This incident apprised 
 d' Estaing of what had fallen out ; but from the dispersion of his 
 squadron he was unable to give chase. He determined, nevertheless, 
 to change his course ; and, instead of continuing to stand for Martinico, 
 he steered in the direction of Antigua, under the persuasion that the 
 British were bound for that island, and not to Barbadoes. He hoped 
 to be able to arrive there before they were landed, or even anchored 
 in the ports, and consequently to prostrate at a single blow their whole 
 force by sea and land. This stroke would have been alm-jst without 
 remedy for .England ; so complete a victory would have enabled the 
 count d 7 Estaing to annihilate her domination in the West Indies. 
 But fortune had decided otherwise. The English shaped their course 
 directly for Barbadoes, and reached it safely the tenth of December, 
 Hoiham there made his junction with Barrington, who was already 
 returned. 
 
 VOL. n. 24 
 
182 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 The French admiral, having arrived very promptly in the waters 
 of Antigua, remained cruising there for several days ; but at length, 
 not seeing the enemy appear, and concluding that they had taken 
 another direction, he changed his own, and stood for Martinico. 
 
 The English generals having no suspicion of the vicinity of so 
 formidable an enemy, determined without delay to attack St. Lucia. 
 Its position in the front of Martinico, its natural strength, and its 
 works rendered this post of extreme importance for the operations 
 of the war. Admiral Harrington having taken on board his squadron 
 a corps of four thousand selected troops, sailed for St. Lucia, and 
 arrived there the thirteenth of December. General Meadows land- 
 ed at the head of a strong detachment, and advanced with celerity 
 to gain the heights which command the north shore of the bay of 
 Grand Cul de Sac. They were occupied by the chevalier de Micou, 
 the commandant of the island, with some few regulars, and the mili- 
 tia of the country. He made the most of a few pieces of artillery 
 to annoy the debarkation of the English, and their march towards 
 the hills. But unable with so small a force to prolong the valiant 
 resistance he opposed at first, he fell back upon the capital, called 
 Morne Fortune. The English took possession of the heights. At 
 the same time, general Prescott had landed with five regiments, and 
 had occupied all the positions contiguous to the bay. The next 
 morning, Meadows forming the van and Prescott the rear, the Eng- 
 lish marched against the town of Morne Fortune. Overpowered by 
 number, the chevalier Micou was forced to abandon it to the enemy. 
 He retired into the more rough and difficult parts of the island, where 
 he was also protected by his artillery. As fast as he fell back, 
 Prescott took care to occupy the posts with troops and artillery. 
 But general Meadows thought it essential to make himself master of 
 Careenage harbor, situated three miles to the north of Grand Cul 
 de Sac bay ; the French might, in fact, have landed succours there, 
 and attacked the British in flank. In defiance of the difficulty of the 
 places, and the heat of a burning sun, he pressed forward to seize 
 the height called de la Vierge, which rises on the north side of 
 Careenage harbor, and completely commands its entrance. Ano- 
 ther detachment occupied the south point of the harbor, and erected 
 a battery upon it. General Calder, with the rest of the troops, took 
 position on the south side of Grand Cul de Sac bay, so that from 
 this point to the northern shore of the Careenage, all the posts fell 
 into the power of the English. The squadron of Barrington lay at 
 anchor in Grand Cul de Sac bay, his vessels of war at the entrance, 
 and those of transport within. The chevalier de Micou continued 
 still to occupy a very strong fort upon the crest of the mountains. 
 The English might already consider themselves as sure of success, 
 and the French had no hope left but in the immediate succour of the 
 count d' Estaing, when this admiral all at once appeared in view of 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 183 
 
 the island, with his original squadron of twelve sail of the line, 
 accompanied by a numerous fleet of frigates, privateers and trans- 
 ports, which brought a land force of nine thousand men. He had 
 received early intelligence of the attack on St. Lucia ; an event 
 which he considered as the most fortunate that could have happened, 
 it seeming to afford the means of destroying at a single blow, and 
 from his great superiority almost without risk, the British power in 
 the West Indies. Accordingly, he had not delayed a moment to 
 embark in order to pounce upon an enemy that did not expject him. 
 And in truth, if he had arrived twenty-four hours sooner, his hopes 
 must have been realised. But the English were already in posses- 
 sion of the principal posts, and had fortified themselves therein ; 
 moreover, the day was far advanced, when the French armament 
 appeared ; it was necessary to defer the attack until the ensuing 
 morning. Admiral Barrington profited of the night, to make his 
 dispositions for sustaining it. He caused the transports to be removed 
 into the bottom of the Grand Cul de Sac, to be as remote from 
 danger as possible ; the ships of war he placed in their respective 
 stations, so as to form a line across its entrance, and repel the efforts 
 of the enemy to the most advantage. His force consisted only of 
 his own ship, the Prince of Wales, of seventy-four guns, the Boyne 
 of seventy, St. Albans and Nonesuch of sixty-four, the Centurion 
 and Isis, of fifty each, and three frigates. 
 
 The count d' Estaing, not mistrusting that Careenage harbor was 
 already occupied by the enemy, stood in for it with his whole fleet, 
 on the morning of the fifteenth. His purpose was to take land there 
 and hasten to attack the right flank of the English, who, as he had 
 observed himself, occupied the Grand Cul de Sac. But no sooner 
 had he presented himself before the entrance of the Careenage than 
 the English batteries erected upon the two points opened a heavy 
 fire, which damaged several of his vessels, and particularly his own 
 ship the Languedoc. Convinced of the impossibility of operating a 
 descent in this part, he bore down with ten sail of the line on the 
 British admiral, with intent to force the passage, and penetrate into 
 the bay, which must have proved the utter ruin of the English. A 
 warm engagement ensued ; but, supported by the batteries from the 
 shore, the British valiantly sustained the attack of an enemy so 
 superior. D' Estaing drew off a little ; but, towards evening, he 
 renewed the battle with twelve ships. His efforts were still more 
 impetuous; he directed the fire of his artillery principally against 
 the left of the British line. But neither the reenforcement he had 
 received, nor the singular firmness and gallantry displayed by all his 
 people, were capable of rendering this attack more successful than 
 the former. The English made so vigorous and so well supported a 
 defence, that d' Estaing was again compelled to retire, with his ships 
 severely damaged, and in no little confusion. Admiral Barrington 
 
184 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI, 
 
 acquired imperishable glory ; he secured to his country the possession 
 of an island which, only twenty-four hours after its conquest, had 
 been upon the point of falling anew under the dominion of its ancient 
 masters. But d' Estaing, finding that fortune was disposed to frown 
 on his maritime attacks, resorted to his land forces, which were very 
 considerable. Accordingly, in the night of the sixteenth and the 
 following morning, he landed his troops in Choc Bay, which lies 
 between Gros Islet and the Careenage. His intention was to attack 
 general Meadows, who, with a corps of thirteen hundred men, was 
 encamped in the little peninsula de la Vierge, situated between the 
 Careenage and the above named Choc Bay. He had great hopes 
 of being able to surprise and cut him off entirely, as well by reason 
 of the difficulty of the places which separated this corps from all the 
 others, as from the diversion which he purposed to make by threaten- 
 ing several points at once. In pursuance of this plan, he advanced 
 from Choc Bay towards the peninsula, with five thousand of his best 
 troops, in order to attack the lines of Meadows, which were drawn 
 across the isthmus that joins it to the main land. He had formed 
 three columns ; the right was commanded by himself, the centre by 
 the count de Leowendal, and the left by the marquis de Bouille. 
 The French moved at first with admirable order, but as they 
 approached, their position became extremely critical. They found 
 themselves severely enfiladed by the artillery of Morne Fortune, 
 which the chevalier de Micou, on evacuating that fort, had neglected 
 to spike. But notwithstanding this impediment, they rushed on to 
 the charge with incredible impetuosity. The English expected their 
 approach with equal coolness ; they suffered them to advance to the 
 intrenchments without opposition ; when, after firing once, they 
 received them on the bayonet. That fire had, of course, a dreadful 
 effect; but the French, notwithstanding, supported the conflict with 
 undaunted resolution. Already seventy of them had leapt within 
 the intrenchment, where they acquitted themselves strenuously ; 
 but the English enveloped them, and soon they were all victims of 
 their temerity. Nevertheless, the assailants recovered their breath, 
 and returned to the charge with no less eagerness arid fury than at 
 first. The English encountered them with the same intrepidity, and 
 a second time compelled them to withdraw. But d' Estaing, in the 
 transport of his ardor, unable to endure that so feeble a detachment 
 should baffle the efforts of his numerous veterans, ordered a third 
 attack. He was promptly obeyed. But the soldiers being much 
 exhausted by their exertions in the two first, no longer displayed the 
 same vigor. They were totally broken and obliged to retreat, leaving 
 their dead and wounded in the power of the victors. It was, how- 
 ever, agreed soon after, that the French should be permitted to bury 
 the one, and to carry off the other ; d' Estaing having rendered 
 himself accountable for the wounded as prisoners of war. General 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 185 
 
 [Meadows manifested in this affair, equal ability and valor; though 
 wounded in the very commencement of the action, no persuasions 
 i could induce him to quit the field until it was decided. The loss of 
 ithe French was serious. Four hundred were killed on the spot; 
 [five hundred were so severely wounded as to be rendered incapable 
 !of service ; five hundred others were wounded slightly. The loss of 
 jthe English, in consequence of the advantage of their position, was 
 i inconsiderable. The count d' Estaing left his troops on shore still, 
 jfbr several days after the battle; during this time he continued 
 islanding off and on with his fleet, in sight of the island, hoping that 
 : some occasion might present itself of operating more effectively. But 
 at length he embarked his troops, in the night of the twenty-eighth, 
 and sailed to Martinico the following day, having abandoned the 
 enterprise of St. Vincent and Grenada, which islands he had pur- 
 posed to attack. The day after his departure, the chevalier de 
 Micou capitulated ; his garrison consisted of only an hundred men. 
 He obtained the most favorable conditions. He marched out with 
 all the honors of war ; his soldiers retained their baggage, but not 
 their arms. The inhabitants, and especially the curates, were pro- 
 tected in their persons, property, and religion. They were to pay 
 to the king of Great Britain the same taxes only, that they were 
 accustomed to pay to the king of France ; finally, they were not to 
 be compelled to bear arms against their late sovereign. 
 
 The English found in the forts fifty-nine pieces of cannon, a great 
 number of muskets, and an immense quantity of military stores. 
 Thus fell into the power of the English the island of St. Lucia ; it 
 was an acquisition of extreme importance to them. They made of 
 it a place of arms for all their forces in the West Indies, and the 
 repository of all their munitions. From its proximity to Martinico, 
 they were enabled, without risk, to watch all the movements of the 
 French in the bay of Fort Royal, and to intercept the reenforce- 
 ments and convoys that might approach it by the channel of St. 
 Lucia. They strengthened it with many new works, and constantly 
 maintained in it a numerous garrison, notwithstanding the great loss 
 of men it cost them from the insalubrity of the climate. 
 
 A few days after the retreat of the count d' Estaing, admiral 
 Byron arrived in that part with nine sail of the line, and came to 
 anchor at St. Lucia. 
 
 There resulted from it a sort of tacit truce between the two 
 parties ; the English having too decided a superiority of naval, and 
 the French of land forces. This armistice, which lasted five months, 
 was not interrupted until the squadron of commodore Rawley had 
 joined the fleet of Byron, and the count d' Estaing l]ad been reen- 
 forced by that of the chevalier de la Motte Piquet and of the count 
 de Grasse. These several reenforceruents were despatched from 
 Europe to the West Indies about the close of the year ; the two 
 
186 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK. XI. 
 
 governments having reflected at the same time how important it was 
 to have formidable maritime forces in the midst of these rich islands, 
 situated at little distance one from the other, and intermingled, as it 
 were, with those of the enemy. 
 
 It is time to return upon the American continent. The British 
 ministers and generals had taken the determination to direct their 
 greatest efforts towards the southern parts of the confederation. 
 Under the persuasion that the inhabitants of these provinces sup- 
 ported with repugnance the yoke of the republicans, they hoped to 
 find in the loyalists an efficacious cooperation for the reestablishment 
 of the royal authority. Other, and no less powerful motives, con- 
 duced to decide them for this expedition. The provinces of the 
 south, and especially Georgia and Carolina, abound in fertile lands, 
 which produce copious crops of wheat, and particularly of rice, than 
 which nothing could be more essential to the support of a fleet and 
 army, at so great a distance from their principal sources of supply. 
 The parts of the American territory which had hitherto fallen into 
 the power of. the English, had offered them but a feeble resource, 
 and they were obliged to draw the greatest part of their provisions 
 from Europe, through all the perils of the sea, and the swarms of 
 American privateers which continually preyed on their convoys. It 
 is, besides, to be observed, that the rice of Georgia and South Caro- 
 lina served to nourish the French fleets, and the troops that formed 
 the garrisons of their islands in the West Indies. 
 
 The quiet and security which these provinces had hitherto enjoy- 
 ed, admitted so vigorous a cultivation, that the products of it not 
 only furnished an inexhaustible resource to the allies of the Ameri- 
 cans, but, being exported to the markets of Europe, constituted the 
 material of a commerce, by which they received those supplies 
 which were necessary as well to the support of the war, as to the 
 conducting of the common business and affairs of life. The English 
 also, reflected that, as Georgia borders upon East Florida, the latter 
 was exposed to constant alarms and incursions on the part of the 
 republicans ; and they were convinced that there existed no effectual 
 means of securing the quiet of that province, short of compelling the 
 troops of Congress to evacuate Georgia -and the Carolinas. The 
 conquest of the first of these provinces, they had little doubt, would 
 ensure them that of the two others ; and they promised themselves 
 with full assurance the possession of Charleston, a rich and populous 
 city, and of extreme importance, both for its situation and port. 
 Such were the advantages the English expected- to derive from their 
 expedition against the southern provinces. 
 
 To these considerations was added another ; the severity of the 
 season no longer admitted operations in the mountainous provinces 
 of the north. Accordingly, general Clinton, as we have related in 
 the preceding book, had embarked for Georgia, under convoy of 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 187 
 
 commodore Hyde Parker, a detachment of twenty-five hundred 
 men, consisting of English, Hessians and refugees. He hoped, by 
 the assistance of these last, and their partisans, to find easy admis- 
 sion into that province. This corps was under the command of 
 colonel Campbell, an officer of distinguished valor and capacity. 
 Clinton, at the same time, had ordered general Prevost, who com- 
 manded in the Floridas,to collect all the troops that could be spared 
 from the defence of those provinces, and to march also against 
 Georgia, in order that it might be attacked at once in front, on the 
 part of the sea by Campbell, and in flank, on the banks of the 
 Savannah river by Prevost. The plan of this expedition thus 
 arranged, commodore Hyde Parker and colonel Campbell arrived 
 towards the close of December at the isle of Tybee, situated near 
 the mouth of the Savannah. The transports had little difficulty in 
 passing the bar and entering into that river. They were followed a 
 few days after by the ships of war, so that all the fleet lay together 
 at anchor in its waters on the twenty-seventh of December, ready to 
 execute the orders of the commanders for the invasion of the pro- 
 vince. The latter, not knowing what were the forces, the measures 
 of defence, and the intentions of the republicans, detached some 
 light infantry to scour the adjacent banks. They took two Georgi- 
 ans, from whom it was understood that no intimation had been 
 received in the province of the project of the royalists ; that conse- 
 quently no preparations for defence had been made ; that the bat- 
 teries which protected the entrance of the rivers were out of condi- 
 tion, and that the armed gallies were so placed that they might 
 easily be surprised. It was also learned that the garrison of Savan- 
 nah, the capital of the province, was very feeble, but that it was soon 
 to be reenforced. Upon this intelligence, the British commander no 
 longer delayed to commence his operations. 
 
 The whole country on the two banks of the Savannah, from its 
 mouth to a considerable distance above, being a continued tract of 
 deep marsh, intersected by the extensive creeks of St. Augustine and 
 Tybee, it offers no point capable of serving as a place of debarkation. 
 The English were therefore under the necessity of moving higher up 
 in order to reach the usual landingplace, at which commences a very 
 narrow causeway that leads to the city. This post, extremely dif 
 cult of itself, might have been vigorously defended by the Americans. 
 But, surprised by an unexpected attack, or destitute of sufficient 
 force, they made no opposition to the descent of the English, who 
 landed at first their light troops. The causeway leads through a rice 
 swamp, and is flanked on each side by a deep ditch. Six hundred 
 yards above the landingplace, and at the head of the causeway, rises 
 an abrupt eminence, upon which was situated the house of a certain 
 Gerridoe. It was occupied by a detachment of republicans. As 
 soon as the light infantry, the greater part Scotch Highlanders, had 
 
188 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 landed under the command of captain Cameron, they formed, and 
 pushed forward along the dike to attack the post of the Americans. 
 The latter received them with a smart fire of musketry ; Cameron 
 was mortally wounded. Incensed at the loss of their captain, the 
 Highlanders advanced with such rapidity, that the Americans had 
 no time for charging again, and instantly fled. The English seized 
 the height ; colonel Campbell having ascended it, in order to view 
 the country, discovered the army of the enemy drawn up about half 
 a mile east of the town of Savannah. It was commanded by major- 
 general Robert Howe, and appeared disposed to make a firm stand 
 to cover the capital of the province. It consisted in a strong corps 
 of continental troops, and the militia of the country. It was so dis- 
 posed that its two wings extended on the two sides of the great road 
 leading to Savannah. The right, under the command of colonel Eu- 
 gee, "and composed of Carolinians, was to the south, having its flank 
 towards the country protected by a wooded swamp and by the houses 
 of Tatnal. The left, having the road on its right flank, was covered 
 on the left by rice swamps. It consisted for the most part of Geor- 
 gians, under the orders of colonel Elbert. One piece of cannon was 
 planted at each extremity of the American line, and two pieces 
 occupied the traverse, across the great road in the centre. About 
 one hundred yards in front of this traverse, at a critical point between 
 two swamps, a trench was cut across the road, and about one hun- 
 dred yards in front of the trench, ran a marshy rivulet, the bridge 
 OV---T which had been destroyed. Lastly, the Americans had on 
 their rear the town of Savannah itself, which was surrounded by a 
 moat. 
 
 The British commander, having left a detachment to guard the 
 landingplace, and another to secure a neighboring cross road, to 
 cover his rear, advanced directly towards the enemy. He endea- 
 vored to devise the most expedient mode of attacking them in the 
 strong position they occupied. By the movements of the Americans, 
 he was not long in perceiving that they expected and even desired 
 that he should engage their left wing ; he accordingly omitted no 
 means in use on similar occasions, with experienced commander?, 
 that could serve to cherish that opinion and continue its delusion. 
 He drew off a part of his forces to form on his right, where he also 
 displayed his light infantry. His intention, however, was. to attack the 
 right wing of the Americans. While making his dispositions, chance 
 threw into his hands a negro, by whom he was informed of a private 
 path through the wooded swamp on the enemy's right, which led to 
 their rear. The negro offered to show the way, and promised 
 infallible success. Colonel Campbell resolved to profit of the occa- 
 sion which fortune seemed to have provided him. He accordingly 
 directed Sir James Baird to pursue with his light infantry the indi- 
 cated path, turn the right of the Americans, and fall in by surprise 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 189 
 
 upon their rear. The New York volunteers under colonel Tumbull, 
 were ordered to support the light infantry. While Baird and Turn- 
 bull, guided by the negro, proceeded to execute this movement, 
 Campbell posted his artillery in a field on the left of the road, 
 concealed from the enemy by a swell of ground in the front. It was 
 destined to bear upon the Carolinians, and to cannonade any body 
 of troops in flank, which they might detach into the wood to retard 
 the progress of Baird's light infantry. Meanwhile, the republicans 
 continued to ply their artillery with great animation ; the royalists 
 were motionless ; a circumstance which doubtless would have excited 
 alarm if their enemies had been either more experienced, or less 
 sanguine. At length, when Campbell conceived that Baird had 
 reached his position, he suddenly unmasked his artillery, and marched 
 briskly on to the enemy, who were still totally blind to their danger. 
 The charge of the English and Hessians was so impetuous that the 
 Americans, unable to withstand its shock, immediately fell into con- 
 fusion and dispersed. The victors pursued them. During this time, 
 the light infantry of Baird had gained the rear of the American right. 
 They fell in with a body of Georgian militia, who were stationed 
 to guard the great road from Ogeeche, and routed them at the 
 first onset. As they were in pursuit of the fugitives, on their way to 
 fail upon the main body of the Americans, the latter, already dis- 
 comfited, came running across the plain full in their front. The 
 disorder and dismay that now ensued, were past all remedy ; the 
 victory of the English was complete. Thirty-eight commissioned 
 officers, upwards of four hundred noncommissioned and privates, 
 forty-eight pieces of cannon, twenty-three mortars, the fort with its 
 ammunition and stores, the shipping in the river, a large quantity of 
 provisions, with the capital of Georgia, were all in the hands of the 
 conquerors before dark. The loss of the Americans, owing to their 
 prompt flight, was very small. Only about four score fell in the 
 action and pursuit, and about thirty more perished in their attempts 
 to escape through the swamp. The English lost perhaps not twenty 
 men in dead and wounded. This singular good fortune was the fruit 
 of the excellent dispositions of colonel Campbell. He distinguished 
 himself no less by an humanity the more deserving of praise, as he 
 could not have forgotten the harsh treatment he had received in the 
 prisons of Boston. Not only was the town of Savannah preserved 
 from pillage, but such was the excellent discipline observed, that 
 though the English entered it with the fugitives, as into a city taken 
 by storm, not a single person suffered who had not arms in his hand, 
 and who was not besides in the act either of flight or resistance. A 
 strong circumstantial testimony, that those enormities so frequently 
 committed in time of war, should with more justice be charged to the 
 negligence or immediate participation of the chiefs, than to the un- 
 governable license of the soldiers. 
 VOL. n. 25 
 
190 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 ., 1779. Having thus made themselves masters of the capital, the 
 British troops soon overran the whole province of Georgia. Their 
 commander issued a proclamation, by which he offered pardon to 
 deserters, and exhorted the friends of the English name to repair to 
 the royal standard, promising them assistance and protection ; this 
 step was not altogether fruitless. A considerable number presented 
 themselves; they were formed into a regiment of light dragoons. 
 But the more determined republicans preferring exile to submission, 
 withdrew into South Carolina. 
 
 The English also employed all their address to induce the repub- 
 lican soldiers they had made prisoners to enlist in the service of the 
 king ; but their efforts were nearly fruitless. They were, therefore, 
 crowded on board vessels, where, from the heat of the weather in the 
 following summer, and the bad air concomitant with their mode of 
 confinement, the greater part perished. The officers were sent on 
 parole to Sunbury, the only town in the province which still held for 
 the Congress ; but Moses Allen, the chaplain of the Georgians, was 
 retained, and thrust, a prisoner on board the vessels, amongst the 
 common soldiers. This minister of religion had not contented him- 
 self with exciting the people to assert their independence in his 
 discourses from the pulpit, he appeared also, with arms in hand, 
 on the field of battle, exhibiting in his own person an admirable 
 example of valor, and devotion to the cause of country. 
 
 Weary of the protracted rigors of his captivity, he one day threw 
 himself into the river, hoping to escape, by swimming, to a neigh- 
 boring island ; but he was drowned, to the great regret of all his 
 fellow-citizens, who venerated his virtues, and justly appreciated his 
 intrepidity. The Americans, too much enfeebled to keep the field, 
 passed the Savannah at Zubly, and retreated into South Carolina. 
 The English, on the contrary, now masters of the greater part of 
 Georgia, frequently scoured the banks of the river, in order to dis- 
 quiet the enemy, who was still in possession of the countries situated 
 on the left bank. 
 
 In the meantime, general Prevost had put himself on the march 
 from East Florida, to execute the orders of general Clinton. He 
 had to struggle with the most' formidable impediments, as well from 
 the difficulty of the places as from the want of provisions. At length, 
 after excessive fatigues and hardships, being arrived in Georgia, he 
 attacked the fort of Sunbury. The garrison, consisting of about two 
 hundred men, made some show of defence ; and gave him the 
 trouble of opening trenches. But, although they were supported by 
 some armed vessels and gallies, yet all hope of relief being now 
 totally cut off by the reduction of the rest of the province, they found 
 it necessary to surrender at discretion. They were treated humanely. 
 This happened just at the time when colonel Campbell had already 
 set out on an expedition for the reduction of Sunbury. The two 
 
.' 
 
 BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 191 
 
 English corps made their junction with reciprocal felicitations. 
 General Prevost repaired to Savannah, where he took the command 
 of all the British troops that, coming from New York and from St. 
 Augustine, had conquered to the king the entire province of Georgia. 
 After such brilliant success, the British commanders deliberated 
 upon what they had to do next. They were perfectly aware that 
 their forces were not sufficient to act in a decisive manner against 
 Carolina, a powerful province, animated with the same spirit, espe- 
 cially in the maritime parts, and governed by men endowed with the 
 best talents, and exercising a great influence over the multitude. 
 The reduction of Georgia was, in truth, the only object which gene- 
 ral Clinton had as yet proposed to himself. He had purposed to 
 defer the invasion of Carolina until the arrival of the reenlbrcements 
 which admiral Arbuthnot was to bring him from England. Never- 
 theless, considering the importance to the success of future operations 
 of continuing offensive war, rather than halting upon the defensive, it 
 was determined to make several excursions into Carolina, in order to 
 keep alive in that province the terror of the royal arms, and to 
 reanimate the hopes of the loyalists. Major-general Gardner was 
 accordingly detached with a numerous corps, to take possession of 
 Port Royal. But this expedition had the most disastrous issue ; 
 the Carolinians fell vigorously upon the English, and expelled them 
 from the island with severe loss, both in officers and soldiers. 
 
 On the failure of this project, the British generals endeavored to 
 excite a movement among the adversaries of Congress. They in- 
 habited, as we have related, in very considerable number, the back 
 parts of Georgia and the two Carolines. The hope placed in them 
 was one of the principal causes that had occasioned the invasion of 
 the southern provinces to be undertaken. Of these loyalists there 
 were several sorts ; some, more violent and rancorous, had not only 
 abandoned their country, but had attached themselves to the Indians, 
 in order to inflict all possible mischief on their fellow-citizens, in the 
 incursions on the frontiers. Others lived solitary and wandering 
 upon the extreme confines of the Carolines, watching with the most 
 eager attention for any favorable occasion that might offer itself, for 
 the recovery of their settlements. Others, finally, either less bitter 
 or more politic, continued to reside in the midst of the republicans, 
 feigning an acquiesence in the will of the majority. Though they 
 had quitted arms for the labors of agriculture, they were still always 
 ready to resume them, whenever the possibility of a new change 
 should become perceptible. In the meantime, they had recourse to 
 artifice, and exerted their utmost diligence to keep their outlawed 
 friends advised of all that passed within the country, and especially 
 of all the movements of the republicans ; of this, the generals of the 
 king were not ignorant. 
 
192 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 In order, therefore, to encourage and support the loyalists, they 
 moved up the Savannah as far as Augusta. As soon as they were 
 in possession of that post, they left no means unattempted that could 
 reanimate their partisans, and excite them to assemble in arms. 
 They sent among them numerous emissaries, who exaggerated to 
 them the might of the royal forces. They assured them that if they 
 would but unite, they would become incomparably superior to their 
 enemies ; they were prodigal of promises and presents ; they exas- 
 perated minds already imtmtered by flaming pictures of the cruelties 
 committed by the republicans. Such were the opinions propagated 
 by the British generals among the friends of the king. Their insti- 
 gations produced the intended effect ; the loyalists took arms, and 
 putting themselves under the command of colonel Boyd, one of their 
 chiefs, they descended along the western frontiers of Carolina in 
 order to join the royal army. More properly robbers than soldiers, 
 they continually deviated from their route, in order to indulge their 
 passion for pillage. What they could neither consume nor carry off, 
 they consigned to the flames. They had already passed the Savan- 
 nah and were near the British posts, when they were encountered by 
 colonel Pickins, who headed a strong detachment of Carolinians, 
 levied in the district of Ninety- Six. Instantly, the action was engaged 
 with all the fury excited by civil rancor, and all the desperation 
 inspired by the fear of those evils which the vanquished would have 
 to suffer at the hands of the victors. The battle lasted for a full 
 hour. At length the loyalists were broken and completely routed. 
 Boyd remained dead upon the field ; all were dispersed, many fell 
 into the power of the republicans. Seventy were condemned to 
 death, only five, however, were executed. This success made a 
 deep impression throughout Georgia, where the disaffected were 
 already on the point of arming against the Congress. The incur- 
 sions of the loyalists were repressed, and the republicans could 
 proceed with greater security in their preparations for defence 
 against the royal arms. Another consequence of it was, that the 
 English evacuated Augusta, and, retiring lower down, concentred 
 their force in the environs of Savannah. 
 
 This measure was the more prudent on their part, as general Lin- 
 coln, to whom Congress had intrusted the command of all the troops 
 in the southern provinces, was already arrived, and had encamped at 
 Black Swamp, on the left bank of the Savannah, at no great distance 
 from Augusta. This general, born in Massachusetts, having distin- 
 guished himself in the campaigns of the north, had been proposed to 
 the Congress by the Carolinians themselves, on their first receiving 
 intelligence of the projects of the enemy against the southern pro- 
 vinces. The Congress had yielded the more readily to their recom- 
 mendation, as they had themselves a high opinion of the talents of 
 general Lincoln, and were not ignorant how essential it is to the. sue- 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 193 
 
 cess of operations, that soldiers should have perfect confidence in 
 their chiefs. The president, Lowndes, employed all the means in his 
 power to inflame the ardor of the inhabitants of South Carolina, and 
 to excite them to take arms in defence of country. In private, as 
 well as in public, he addressed them the most stimulating exhorta- 
 tions ; he directed that all the cattle of the islands and towns situated 
 upon the coast, should be withdrawn into the interior of the country. 
 The militia assembled and joined the continental troops. The same 
 zeal for the public cause broke forth at the approach of danger in 
 North Carolina ; in a few days, two thousand of its militia were irn- 
 bodied under the generals Ashe and Rutherford. If this corps could 
 have been furnished with arms as promptly as the conjuncture requir- 
 ed, it would have made its junction in time with that of general 
 Howe, and perhaps might have decided in his favor the fortune of 
 the day of Savannah. The enthusiasm of the Carolinian patriots 
 was then at its height 5 every day added to the strength of their 
 army. They had indeed great efforts to make. Washington was far 
 from them, and before succours could arrive, they were exposed to 
 the most fatal reverses. Moreover, the commander-in-chief was 
 himself much occupied with the guard of the passes of the mountains, 
 and his forces were continually mined by a pest which was still but 
 imperfectly remedied ; the shortness of engagements. It was not 
 to be expected then, that he should strip himself in order to reenforce 
 the army of the south ; yet more, the same intestine disease which 
 enfeebled the army of Washington, was also the cause that little reli- 
 ance could be placed in that of Lincoln, although it was already com- 
 bined with the relics of the corps of Robert Howe. With the 
 exception of six hundred continental troops, the rest were militia, 
 little accustomed to war, and bound only to a few months of service. 
 General Lincoln, however, not in the least discouraged, found re- 
 sources even in his own ardor. In order at first to show himself to 
 the enemy, he had repaired to Black Swamp, on the north side of 
 the Savannah. This movement, together with the recent discomfi- 
 ture of the loyalists, had induced the British general to retire down 
 the river, leaving, however, an advanced post at Hudson's Ferry. But 
 Lincoln extended his views farther ; he purposed to restrict the 
 enemy still more, and to press him close upon the coast, in order to 
 deprive him of the resources he would find in those fertile countries, 
 and to put an end to the intercourse, whether open or secret, which 
 he kept up with the loyalists of the upper parts. He accordingly 
 ordered general Ashe to leave his baggage behind, and passing the 
 Savannah, to take post on a little river called Briar Creek. This 
 order was executed with diligence, and the camp seated in a very 
 strong position. It was covered in front by the creek, which for 
 several miles above was too deep to be forded ; on the left by the 
 Savannah and a deep morass ; the right was secured by a corps of 
 cavalry. General Ashe had with him about two thousand men. 
 
194 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI- 
 
 Notwithstanding the strength of his encampment, the English 
 resolved to attack him. Colonel Prevost, who was posted at Hud- 
 son's Ferry, set out on this expedition. Having divided his force in 
 two columns, he advanced the right, with two pieces of cannon, 
 towards Briar Creek, with an apparent view of intending to pass it, 
 in order to take up the attention of the republicans. The left, con- 
 sisting of nine hundred men, among which were grenadiers, light 
 infantry and horse, he led himself a circuitous march of about fifty 
 miles, in order to cross Briar Creek, and thereby turning the right, 
 to fall unexpectedly upon the rear of the enemy. At the same time, 
 general Prevost made such dispositions and movements on the bor- 
 ders of the river, between Savannah and Ebenezer, as were likely 
 to divert general Lincoln from thinking of Ashe. This general, who, 
 in such a proximity of the enemy, should have redoubled his watch- 
 fulness, instead of having the country scoured by his cavalry, had 
 detached it upon some distant and unprofitable expedition. The 
 English, therefore, arrived so unexpectedly, though in open daylight, 
 that the Americans received the .first notice of danger from the havoc 
 which the assailants made in their camp. The militia were panic 
 struck, and fled without firing a shot. But many of them encountered 
 iii flight that death which they might have avoided by a gallant 
 resistance. Their cowardice did not shield them ; the deep marsh 
 and the river, which should have afforded security, became now the 
 instruments of their destruction. Blinded by their flight and terror, 
 they were swallowed up in the one, or drowned in the other. The 
 regular troops of Georgia and the Carolinas, commanded and ani- 
 mated by general Elbert, made a brave resistance ; but, abandoned 
 by the militia, and overwhelmed by number, they were also compelled 
 to retreat. This rout of Briar Creek, took place the third of March. 
 The Americans lost seven pieces of cannon, all their arms and 
 ammunition, with not a few killed and prisoners. The number of 
 the drowned and wounded is not known ; but it appears that more 
 perished in the water than by wounds. Of all the corps of general 
 Ashe, scarcely four hundred soldiers rejoined general Lincoln, who. 
 in consequence of this disaster, found his forces diminished more 
 than a fourth part. This victory rendered the royal troops again 
 masters of all Georgia. It opened them communications with the 
 loyalists in the back parts of this province and the two Carolinas. 
 Those who were not yet recovered of the terror inspired by their 
 recent defeat, took fresh courage ; there was nothing now to prevent 
 their going to reenforce the royal army. 
 
 The Carolinians, though deeply affected at so severe a check, 
 were not, however, disheartened ; and, in order to prevent the victo- 
 rious enemy from overrunning their fertile territory, they made every 
 exertion to assemble their militia, and to reanimate their ardor. 
 Rigorous penalties were decreed against those who should refuse to 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 195 
 
 march when called out, or to obey their commanders ; high bounties " 
 were promised ; regiments of horse were organised ; the officers 
 were chosen among the most leading men of the country. John 
 Rutledge, a man of extensive influence, was elected governor of 
 the province, and empowered to do whatever he should judge neces- 
 sary to the public welfare. Animated by the love of country, and 
 stimulated by the prospect of those evils which would be their portion 
 if the English should gain possession of the province, the republicans 
 displayed so much zeal and activity in their preparations for defence, 
 that by the middle of April, general Lincoln found himself at the 
 head of more than five thousand fighting men. 
 
 While these preparations were in process in the Carolinas, general 
 Prevost busied himself in Georgia, in reorganising all those parts of 
 the service which had suffered by the war. He established an inter- 
 nal administration in the province, and strenuously urged the loyalists 
 to rally around him. He did not immediately attempt to cross the 
 Savannah, because it was extremely svvoln by the rains ; and, besides, 
 he had not a sufficient force to attack lower Carolina, where there 
 were none but patriots; and general Lincoln, notwithstanding the 
 rout of Briar Creek, still maintained his position on the left bank, 
 ready to oppose him. if he inclined to pass. Not, however, that the 
 American general was in a condition to act offensively before he was 
 reenforced ; he might even have deemed himself extremely fortunate 
 in not being attacked. But as soon as he found his force augmented, 
 as we have just seen, he made a movement which provoked another 
 of extreme importance on the part of his adversary. He marched, 
 about the beginning of May, towards Augusta, whether to protect an 
 assembly of the deputies of the province, which was to convene in 
 that town, or for the purpose of taking a strong position in upper 
 Georgia, in order to watch over the interests of the confederation in 
 that part, and to interrupt the transmission of provisions and recruits 
 which the loyalists furnished to the British. He was already arrived 
 in Georgia, and all his measures were taken for the execution of his 
 design. He had left general Moultrie, with fifteen hundred men, in 
 front of general Prevost, in order to dispute his passage across the 
 Savannah. He considered this corps the more sufficient for the 
 defence of the left bank and the approaches of Charleston, the 
 capital of South Carolina, inasmuch as the breadth of the river, the 
 marshes which border it on the north side, and the numerous creeks 
 which intersect that province, appeared to him obstacles capable by 
 themselves of arresting the enemy. 
 
 But general Prevost saw his position in a different light. His army 
 was increased by the junction of the loyalists. He hoped that his 
 presence in Carolina would excite some movements there ; he wanted 
 provisions, which he was sure of finding in abundance in that pro- 
 vince ; and lastly, he calculated that the effect of his invasion would 
 
196 THE AMERICAN WAll. BOOK XI- 
 
 be to recall Lincoln from Georgia, and perhaps to afford an opportu- 
 nity of engaging him with advantage. Determined by these consi- 
 derations, he put himself at the head of a corps of three thousand 
 men, among English, loyalists and Indians, and passed the Savannah 
 with its adjacent marshes, though not without excessive difficulties. 
 The militia under Moultrie, surprised and dismayed at such intrepi- 
 dity, gave way, and after a feeble resistance fell back upon Charles- 
 ton. Moultrie, with the handful he had left, and the light horse of 
 Pulaski, exerted his utmost efforts to retard the enemy ; but he was 
 soon compelled to yield to force. Astonished himself at the facility 
 with which he had triumphed over the natural impediments of the 
 country, and the resistance of the republicans, Prevost extended his 
 views to objects of greater moment. The drift of his expedition 
 was at first merely to forage ; he was disposed to give it a nobler 
 aim, and ventured to meditate an attack upon the important city of 
 Charleston. He promised himself that it would soon fall into his 
 power, when he should have acquired the control of the open 
 country. 
 
 The loyalists, in the eagerness of their hopes and wishes, which 
 they too frequently substituted for realities, failed not to improve this 
 disposition, which was so favorable to them. They assured Prevost 
 that they had correspondence with the principal inhabitants of the 
 city, and that the moment the royal standard should be descried from 
 its battlements, their adherents would rise and throw open its gates. 
 Moreover, they offered to serve as guides to the army, and to furnish 
 all the information that could be desired respecting the nature of the 
 country. Another consideration came to the support of their repre- 
 sentations ; though general Lincoln could not but know the British 
 had crossed the Savannah, and menaced the capital, yet he manifest- 
 ed no intention of moving to its relief; so fully was he persuaded 
 that the royalists designed nothing more than to pillage the country. 
 General Prevost, therefore, pursued his march towards Charleston 
 in great security, hoping in the consternation at his sudden appear- 
 ance to enter it without opposition. Meanwhile, when Lincoln was 
 convinced by the continual approaches of the enemy of the reality 
 of his designs, he immediately detached a body of infantry, mounted 
 on horseback, for the greater expedition, to the defence of the capi- 
 tal, and collecting the militia of the upper country, returned with his 
 whole force to act as circumstances might offer for its relief. The 
 English had arrived at Ashley river, which bathes the walls of 
 Charleston on the south ; they passed it immediately, and took post 
 within little more than cannon shot of that city, between the river 
 Ashley and another called the Cooper, which flows a little to the 
 north of it. The Carolinians had made all the preparations for 
 defence which the shortness of time admitted. They had burnt the 
 suburbs, and cut a trench in the rear of the city from one river to 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 197 
 
 the other. The fortifications had heen repaired, and batteries erected 
 upon all the chain of works which formed the cincture of the town. 
 Governor Rutledge had arrived there two days before, with five 
 hundred militia, as well as colonel Harris, who had brought the 
 succour sent by general Lincoln, after a forced march of more than 
 forty miles at every stage. The count Pulaski was also come to 
 reenforce the garrison with the dragoons of his legion, which was 
 called the American Legion. The presence of all these troops 
 reassured the inhabitants ; they would have thought themselves 
 fortunate in obtaining an honorable capitulation if this succour had 
 not reached them, or if the English, instead of suspending their 
 march, as they did, had made their appearance two days sooner. 
 The garrison passed the whole night under arms ; the houses, and 
 the entire circuit of the walls, were illuminated. On the following 
 morning, the British general summoned the town, offering very favor- 
 able conditions. The Americans sent out their commissioners to 
 negotiate, and the conference was opened. But they neglected 
 nothing that could draw it into length as soon as they discovered 
 that the besiegers were not in force sufficient to carry the place 
 before, in all probability, general Lincoln would arrive to its deliver- 
 ance. Accordingly, they proposed that their province should remain 
 neuter during the war ; and that at the conclusion of peace, it should 
 be decided whether Charleston was to belong to the United States 
 or to Great Britain. 
 
 The English answered that their generals had not come there with 
 legislative powers, and that since the garrison were armed, they must 
 surrender prisoners of war. Other proposals were made on both 
 sides, which were not accepted, and the English lost the whole day 
 in this negotiation, which was not broken off till in the evening. 
 The inhabitants, expecting to be attacked during the night, made 
 every preparation for a vigorous defence. Finding himself totally 
 disappointed in every hope that had been held out to him relative to 
 Charleston, general Prevost began to reflect that the ramparts were 
 furnished with a formidable artillery, and flanked by a flotilla of 
 armed shipping and gallies ; that the garrison was even more nume- 
 rous than his own army ; that he had neither battering artillery, nor 
 a naval force to cooperate with his land forces ; that the vanguard of 
 the army of Lincoln had already appeared, and that himself was fast 
 approaching ; and lastly, that if he were repulsed with any consider- 
 able loss, which was much to be apprehended, his situation, involved 
 as he was in a labyrinth of rivers and creeks, surrounded on all sides 
 by a superior enemy, seemed scarcely to admit of a hope that any 
 part of his army could have been preserved. Under these con- 
 siderations, he profited of the obscurity of night, and directed his 
 retreat towards Georgia. But instead of taking the way of the land, 
 which was too dangerous, he passed his troops into the islands of St. 
 VOL. IT. 26 
 
198 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI? 
 
 James and St. John, which lie to the southward of Charleston, and 
 whose cultivation and fertility offered abundant resources. As from 
 Charleston to Savannah there extends along the coast a continued 
 succession of little contiguous islands, so separated from the continent 
 as to afford both navigable channels and excellent harbors, Prevost 
 could be at no loss about the means of repairing to the latter city. 
 
 His immediate design was to establish his camp in the island of 
 Port Royal, situated near the mouth of the Savannah, and no less 
 remarkable for its salubrity than fruitfulness. These quarters were 
 the more desirable as the sickly and almost pestilential season already- 
 approached in the Carolinas and Georgia, and the British troops, 
 not yet accustomed to the climate, were peculiarly exposed to its 
 mortal influence. 
 
 While Prevost was engaged in massing his troops from one island 
 to another, general Lincoln, who by the main land had followed 
 the movements of the enemy, thought it a proper opportunity to 
 attack colonel Maitland, who with a corps of English, Hessians and 
 Carolinian loyalists, was encamped at the pass of Stono Ferry, on 
 the inlet between the continent and the island of St. John ; this 
 post, besides its natural advantages, was well covered with redoubts, 
 an abattis, and artillery. The Americans attacked with vigor, but 
 they found a no less obstinate resistance. At length, overwhelmed 
 by the enemy's artillery, and unable with their field pieces to make 
 any impression on his fortifications, they retired at the approach of a 
 reenforcement which came to the support of Maitland. The Eng- 
 lish, after establishing posts upon the most important points, proceeded 
 to occupy their cantonments in the island of Port Royal. The 
 Americans returned, for the most part, into theirs ; and the unhealth- 
 iness of the season put a stop to all further operations of either party, 
 The English thus remained in peaceable/ possession of the whole 
 province of Georgia ; and the Americans found some consolation in 
 having raised the siege of Charleston, though the vicinity of the 
 enemy still left them in apprehension of a new invasion in South 
 Carolina. The incursion of which this rich and flourishing province 
 had just been the theatre, so far from serving the interests of the 
 king, was highly prejudicial to his cause. If it enriched his officers 
 and soldiers, it caused the ruin of a great number of inhabitants. 
 The royal troops were not satisfied with pillasring ; they spared 
 neither women, nor children, nor sick. Herein they had the negroes 
 for spies and campanions, who being very numerous in all the places 
 they traversed, flocked upon their route in the hope of obtaining 
 liberty. To recommend themselves to the English, they put every 
 thing to sack, and if their masters had concealed any valuable effects, 
 they hastened to discover them to their insatiable spoilers. Such 
 was the rapacity of these robbers, that not content with stripping 
 houses of their richest furniture, and individuals of their most pre- 
 
JBOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 199 
 
 cious ornaments, they violated even the sanctuary of the dead, and, 
 gasping for gold, went rummaging among the tombs. 
 
 Whatever they could not carry off, they destroyed. How many 
 delightful gardens were ravaged ! What magnificent habitations were 
 devoted to the flames ! Every where ruins and ashes. The very 
 cattle, whatever was their utility, found no quarter with these barba- 
 rians. Vain would be the attempt to paint the brutal fury of this 
 lawless soldiery, and especially of those exasperated and ferocious 
 Africans. But the heaviest loss which the planters of Carolina had 
 to sustain, was that of these very slaves. Upwards of four thousand 
 were taken from them ; some were carried to the English islands, 
 others perished of hunger in the woods, or by a pestilential disease 
 which broke out among them soon after. 
 
 And here should be recollected the barbarous manifesto published 
 by the British commissioners on quitting America, after the failure of 
 their negotiations ; their abominable threats were but too faithfully 
 executed in Carolina. A cry of horror arose throughout the civilised 
 world against the ferocity of the British armies. Such also was the 
 disordered state of things to which Georgia, by various progressive 
 steps, was at length reduced. 
 
 About the same time, general Clinton meditated, in his camp at 
 New York, a project whose execution appeared to him to corres- 
 pond with the views of the ministry, or, at least, proper to second 
 the expedition of Carolina. He expected to insure its success by 
 keeping Virginia in continual alarm by cruel but useless devastations 
 upon the coasts of that opulent province. Having assembled a suit- 
 able number of ships, under the command of commodore Collier, he 
 embarked a corps of two thousand men, conducted by general Mat- 
 thews. They proceeded to the Chesapeake, and leaving a sufficient 
 force in Hampton Road to block up that port and the entrance of the 
 river James, went to take land on the banks of Elizabeth river. The 
 British immediately pushed forward against the town of Portsmouth, 
 and entered it without resistance. Fort Nelson was also abandoned 
 to them at the first rumor of their approach. They found it equally 
 easy to occupy the town, or rather the ruins of the town of Norfolk, 
 on the opposite side of the river. Pursuing their march with the 
 same celerity, they made themselves masters of Suffolk, on the right 
 bank of the Nansemond river. In all these places, as well as at 
 Kempers Landing. Shepherds, Gosport, Tanners Creek, in a word, 
 throughout the extent of territory into which they penetrated, their 
 passage was marked by cruelty and devastation. They demolished 
 the magazines, brought off or destroyed the provisions, and burned or 
 took away an immense quantity of shipping. Several thousand barrels 
 of salted provisions, which had been prepared for Washington's army, 
 and a great quantity of stores, also fell into their power. Their booty 
 in tobacco even surpassed their hope ; in brief, this rich and fertile 
 
200 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI, 
 
 country was converted in a few days into one vast scene of smoking 
 ruins. In their indignation, the Virginians sent to ask the English 
 what sort of war this was? They answered, that they were com- 
 manded to visit the same treatment upon all those who refused to obey 
 the king. Listening to the insinuations of the refugees, who inces- 
 santly affirmed that Virginia contained a host of loyalists, that were 
 only waiting for a rallying point to raise the province in revolt, the 
 British commanders were much inclined to prolong their stay in it ; 
 and thought of .fortifying themselves in Portsmouth, in order to make 
 it their place of arms. They wrote accordingly to general Clinton, 
 demanding his orders. But Clinton, weary of this piratical war, and 
 less eager than commodore Collier to swallow the brilliant delusions 
 of the refugees, did not approve the plan proposed. On the contrary, 
 he directed the chiefs of the expedition, after securing their prizes, 
 to rejoin him at New York. He needed this force himself for an 
 enterprise of no little importance, which he was upon the point of 
 undertaking up the Hudson. Virginia, therefore, ceased for that 
 time to be the theatre of these barbarous depredations. 
 
 The Americans had constructed, at great labor and expense, very 
 strong works at the posts of Verplanks Neck, and Stony Point, situ- 
 ated on nearly opposite points of land, the first on the east, and the 
 ether on the west side of the Hudson. They defended the much 
 frequented pass called Kings Ferry, which could not fall into the 
 power of the English without compelling the Americans to take a 
 circuit of ninety miles up the river in order to communicate between 
 the northern and southern provinces. General Clinton had there- 
 fore resolved to seize these two positions. Washington, who lay with 
 his army at Middlebrook, was at too great a distance to interrupt 
 the execution of the design. 
 
 The English, accordingly, set out upon this expedition about the last 
 of May. Commodore Collier conducted the squadron that ascended 
 the river, general Vaughan the column of the right, which landed on 
 the eastern bank, a little below Verplanks, and Clinton in person, the 
 column of the left, with which he disembarked on the western bank, 
 below Stony Point. The Americans, rinding the enemy so near, and 
 not being prepared to receive him, evacuated Stony Point, where 
 they were soon replaced by the royal troops. But at Verplanks there 
 was more resistance ; the republicans had erected on this point a 
 small, but strong and complete work, which they called Fort la Fay- 
 ette ; this was defended by artillery and a small garrison. It was 
 unfortunately commanded by the heights of Stony Point, upon which 
 the English, by their exertions during the night, had planted a battery 
 of heavy cannon, and another of mortars. Early on the following 
 morning, they opened a tempest of fire upon Fort la Fayette. The 
 attack was supported in front by commodore Collier, who advanced 
 with his gallies and gun boats within reach of the fort ; and general 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 20] 
 
 Vaughan having made a circuit through the hills, was at length arriv- 
 ed, and had closely invested it on the land side. The garrison, 
 seeing that all possibility of relief was now cut off, and that their fire 
 was totally overpowered and lost in the magnitude of that which they 
 received, surrendered at discretion the following morning. Thry 
 were treated humanely. General Clinton gave direction for com- 
 pleting the works of Stony Point ; and with a view to the ulterior 
 operations of the campaign, encamped his army at Philipsburgh, about 
 half way between Verplanks and the city of New York. But neither 
 Clinton nor Washington were disposed to run the hazard of a battle; 
 they both expected reenforcements, the one from England, the other 
 from the allies of the United States. Such was the cause of the 
 inaction of the belligerent parties, during this campaign in the middle 
 provinces. 
 
 In defect of conquests, the British generals were disposed, at least, 
 to rid themselves of the priyateers that tormented them, and to re- 
 sume the war of devastation. 
 
 The coasts of Connecticut which border the sound, afforded shel- 
 ter to a multitude of extremely enterprising privateersmen, who inter- 
 cepted whatever made its appearance in their waters, to the utter 
 destruction of the commerce of New York by the sound, and conse- 
 quently to the infinite prejudice of the British fleet and army, which 
 had been accustomed to draw the greater part of their -provisions 
 from that part. With a view of curing the evil, Clinton ordered 
 governor Tryon to embark for Connecticut with a strong detachment. 
 He accordingly proceeded to make a descent at New Haven, where 
 he dislodged the militia, after some irregular resistance, and destroyed 
 whatever he found in the port. Thence he advanced to Fairfield, 
 which he devoted to the flames. Norwalk and Greenfield were in like 
 manner laid in ashes. The loss of the Americans was prodigious; be- 
 sides that of their houses and effects, a considerable number of ships, 
 either finished or on the stocks, with a still greater of whale boats and 
 small craft, with stores and merchandise to an immense amount, were 
 all destroyed. Tryon, far from blushing at such shameful excesses; 
 even boasted of them, insisting that he had thereby rendered import- 
 ant services to the king. Could he have thought that in a war against 
 an entire people, it was rather his duty to desolate than to conquer ? 
 And what other name can be given to ravages and conflagrations 
 which conduce to no decisive result, but that of gratuitous enormities? 
 But, if this mental obliquity, if this cruel frenzy in an individual, who 
 was not a stranger to civilisation, have but too many examples in the 
 history of men, still, is it not astonishing, that he should have per- 
 suaded himself that by such means he could induce the Americans to 
 replace themselves under the royal standard? It is worthy of remark 
 in effect, that in the midst of ravage and combustion, he 'issued a 
 proclamation, by which he exhorted the inhabitants to return to their 
 
202 THE AMERICAN WAll. BOOK XI. 
 
 ancient duty and allegiance. But whether this mode of operation 
 was displeasing to Clinton, who perhaps had only desired the destruc- 
 tion of the shipping, and not that of houses and temples, or from what- 
 ever other more real motive, he orderd Tryon to cease hostilities, and 
 to rejoin him immediately at New York. But the melancholy vesti- 
 ges of the rage of the English were not effaced by his retreat, and 
 these piratical invasions redoubled the abhorrence attached to their 
 name. 
 
 While the coasts of Connecticut were thus desolated by the 
 British arms, the Americans undertook an expedition which afforded 
 a brilliant demonstration that, so far from wanting courage, they 
 could vie in boldness with the most celebrated nations of Europe. 
 The English had labored with such industry in finishing the works 
 at Stony Point, that they had already reduced that rock to the con- 
 dition of a real fortress. They had furnished it with a numerous and 
 selected garrison. The stores were abundant, the defensive prepa- 
 rations formidable. These considerations could not, however, dis- 
 courage Washington, who, on hearing of the capture of Stony Point 
 and Verplanks, had advanced and taken post on the brow of the 
 mountains of the Hudson, from forming the design to surprise and 
 attempt both those forts by assault. He charged general Wayne 
 with the attack of Stony Point, and general Howe with that of Ver- 
 planks. He provided the first with a strong detachment of the most 
 enterprising and veteran infantry in all his army. 
 
 These troops set out on their expedition the fifteenth of July, and 
 having accomplished their march over high mountains, through deep 
 morasses, difficult defiles, and roads exceedingly bad and narrow, 
 arrived about eight o'clock in the evening within a mile of Stony 
 Point. General Wayne then halted to reconnoitre the works, and to 
 observe the situation of the garrison. The English, however, did 
 not perceive him. He formed his corps in two columns, and put 
 himself at the head of the right. It was preceded by a vanguard of 
 an hundred and fifty picked men, commanded by that brave and 
 adventurous Frenchman, lieutenant-colonel Fleury. This vanguard 
 was itself guided by a forlorn hope of about twenty, led by lieutenant 
 Gibbon. The column on the left, conducted by major Stewart, had 
 a similar vanguard, also preceded by a forlorn hope under lieute- 
 nant Knox. These forlorn hopes, among other offices, were particu- 
 larly intended to remove the abattis and other obstructions, which 
 lay in the way of the succeeding troops. General Wayne directed 
 both columns to march in order and silence, with unloaded muskets 
 and fixed bayonets. At midnight they arrived under the walls of 
 the fort. The two columns attacked upon the flanks, while major 
 Murfee engaged the attention of the garrison by a feint in their front. 
 An unexpected obstacle presented itself; the deep morass which 
 covered the works, was at this time overflowed by the tide. The 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 203 
 
 English opened a most tremendous fire of musketry, and of cannon 
 loaded with grape-shot ; but neither the inundated morass, nor a 
 double palisade, nor the bastioned ramparts, nor the storm of fire 
 that was poured from them, could arrest the impetuosity of the 
 Americans ; they opened their way with the bayonet, prostrated 
 whatever opposed them, scaled the fort, and the two columns met in 
 the centre of the works. General Wayne received a contusion in 
 the head, by a musket ball, as he passed the last abattis ; colonel 
 Fleury struck with his own hand the royal standard that waved upon 
 the walls. Of the forlorn hope of Gibbon, seventeen out of the 
 twenty perished in the attack. The English lost upwards of six 
 hundred men in killed and prisoners. The conquerors abstained 
 from pillage and from all disorder ; a conduct the more worthy to be 
 commended, as they had still present in mind the ravages and butch- 
 eries which their enemies had so recently committed in Carolina, in 
 Connecticut, and in. Virginia. Humanity imparted new effulgence 
 to the viciory which valor had obtained. 
 
 The attack meditated against Verplanks, had not the same suc- 
 cess ; general Howe encountered insurmountable obstacles. Mean- 
 while, Clinton had received intelligence of the capture of Stony 
 Point ; and, being resolved not to suffer the enemy to establish 
 themselves in that position, he instantly detached a corps of cavalry 
 and light infantry to dislodge them. But Washington had attained 
 his object ; he had originally intended nothing more than to make 
 himself master of the artillery and stores of the fort, to destroy the 
 works, and to bring off the garrison. It was absolutely inconsistent 
 with his views to risk a general action, in order to favor a partial 
 operation, he therefore ordered general Wayne to retire ; which he 
 /did successfully, after having dismantled the fortifications. This 
 ^'expedition, so glorious for the American arms, was celebrated with 
 rapture in all parts of the confederation. The Congress decreed 
 their acknowledgments to Washington and to Wayne, to Fleury, 
 Stewart, Gibbon and Knox. They presented general Wayne with 
 a medal of gold, which represented this brilliant achievement. 
 Fleury and Stewart received a similar medal of silver. Not willing 
 to leave the bravery of their soldiers without its retribution, they 
 ordered an estimate of the military stores taken at Stony Point, and 
 the value thereof to be shared among them. 
 
 Rendered more daring and adventurous by the success of this 
 enterprise, the republicans frequently harassed the outposts of the 
 royal army. The continual skirmishes that followed were alternate- 
 ly advantageous or disastrous to the two parties. One of the most 
 considerable was engaged at Paulus Hook, on the right bank of the 
 Hudson, opposite to New York ; the Americans were treated rather 
 roughly in it. 
 
204 THE AMEBICAN WAR. BOOK XI* 
 
 An expedition of much more importance took place on the river 
 Penobscot, near the eastern confines of New England, on the side 
 of Nova Scotia. Colonel Maclean had embarked from Halifax with 
 a strong division of regulars, with a view of establishing a post, at 
 the mouth of that river, in the county of Lincoln. On his arrival in 
 the Penobscot, he took possession of an advantageous situation, and 
 proceeded to fortify himself. From that position he purposed to 
 annoy the eastern frontiers of the confederation ; and by this diver- 
 sion in Massachusetts, he hoped to prevent the inhabitants of that 
 province from sending reenforcements to the army of Washington. 
 This movement occasioned an unusual alarm at Boston, and it was 
 determined to make all possible efforts to dislodge the enemy from a 
 post which smoothed his way to more considerable enterprises. An 
 armament was fitted out with extraordinary despatch ; and in order 
 to secure vessels of transport as well as sailors, an embargo of forty 
 days was laid on all their shipping. The crews and the troops were 
 assembled with equal promptitude, and all the preparations for the 
 expedition were soon completed. The squadron was under the 
 conduct of commodore Saltonstall, and the land troops were com- 
 manded by general Lovell. They sailed for the mouth of the 
 Penobscot. 
 
 Colonel Maclean had received at first rumors, and afterwards 
 undoubted intelligence, of the preparations that were making at 
 Boston. He employed all the means which the shortness of notice 
 left at his disposal, to secure his defence. The republicans appear- 
 ed ; their first attempts to land, were rendered vain by the intrepid 
 resistance of the royal troops ; they redoubled their efforts, and at 
 length succeeded in effecting that object. General. Lovell, instead 
 of attacking immediately, which would have ensured him victory, set 
 about entrenching himself. The English resumed courage. There 
 was a continual firing of artillery for fifteen days. Finally, the works 
 which covered the position of the English being partly ruined, the 
 Americans resolved to proceed to the assault. Colonel Maclean 
 was informed of their design, and prepared himself to receive 
 them. 
 
 In the morning he was under arms*; but a profound silence pre- 
 vailed in the camp of the besiegers ; their stillness and immobility 
 appeared inexplicable. The colonel sent to reconnoitre, and he 
 soon learns, to his extreme surprise, that the enemy's lines are 
 totally evacuated, that he has not left even a guard, and that he has 
 .reembarked his troops, arms and stores. The cause of so abrupt a 
 resolution was not long in disclosing itself. Commodore Collier had 
 suddenly made his appearance at the mouth of the Penobscot. He 
 had been apprised of the critical situation of Maclean, and had 
 immediately departed from Sandy Hook, with a sufficient squadron. 
 His manoeuvres now indicated the design to attack the flotilla of 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 205 
 
 Massachusetts ; the republicans fell into confusion, and the royalists 
 completed their discomfiture without difficulty. The vessels of war 
 and of transport were ail taken or blown up, to the incalculable detri- 
 ment of the Bostonians, who had taken on themselves the whole 
 burthen of this expedition. The soldiers and sailors, to escape the 
 conqueror, were forced to penetrate the most dismal solitudes and 
 pathless forests, where the extremes of hardship attended their 
 retreat. Sahonstall and Lovell, but especially the first, became the 
 object of public execration. They were every where loaded with 
 the reproaches of stupidity and cowardice. The fatal issue of the 
 enterprise of Penobscot, was calculated to teach the inhabitants of 
 Massachusetts a truth, which it cost them much to learn, namely? 
 that in confederate states, nothing is more imprudent than to operate 
 partially. For, it appears that their leaders in this affair, far from 
 concerting with the generals of Congress, did not even acquaint 
 them with their designs. Thus, with the exception of the conquest 
 of Georgia, the operations of this campaign were conducted with a 
 sort of langor, and produced no results of any considerable import- 
 ance. The month of July was, however, sufficiently remarkable 
 for the terrible reprisals which the Americans, under the conduct of 
 general Sullivan, exercised aejainst the Indians. The expeditions 
 undertaken against them the preceding year, by the, colonels Butler 
 and Clarke, had not completely satisfied the Congress; they were 
 still animated with desire to exact an exemplary vengeance for the 
 enormities of Wyoming. Moreover, they deemed it indispensably 
 necessary to repress the incursions of these savages, who, rendered 
 more daring by impunity, and excited by the presents of British 
 emissaries, incessantly desolated the frontiers of the confederation. 
 But by far the most formidable of all the Indian nations, were the 
 Six Tribes, who derived a degree of power from the league con- 
 tracted between them, from a scheme of polity more resembling that 
 of civilised states, and, especially, from the great number of Euro- 
 pean adventurers who had established themselves among them, and 
 had taught them to wield their arms, and to make war with more 
 dexterity. Interlinked wiih these, were other savage tribes of 
 inferior note. The Oneidas; however, should be excepted, who 
 observed a perfect neutrality towards the Congress. The American 
 government, therefore, resolved a decisive. stroke, to deliver itself 
 forever from this cruel scourge, and at the same time to visit upon 
 the heads of these barbarians the innocent blood of Wyoming. Cir- 
 cumstances appeared to favor the execution of this -design, since the 
 war, as we have already seen, was become strangely torpid in the 
 maritime parts. Agreeably to the plan of the expedition, general 
 Sullivan, who was charged with its execution, proceeded up the 
 Susqnehanna, with a corps of about three thousand men, as far as 
 Wyoming, where he waited the arrival of general James Clinton, 
 VOL. ii. 27 
 
206 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK XI, 
 
 who joined him from the banks of the Mohawk, at the head of six- 
 teen hundred soldiers. He was followed by a great number of 
 pioneers, sumpter-men, carters, and other species of workmen, to 
 open the roads, transport provisions, and ravage the country. The 
 stock of provisions was considerable, but not so abundant as general 
 Sullivan could have wished. The army had to traverse an immense 
 tract of country, where no supplies were to be expected. The 
 horses were sufficient in number, and the artillery consisted of six 
 field pieces with two howitzers. The two generals made their junc- 
 tion at Wyoming, the twenty-first of August. They immediately 
 set out for the upper parts of the Susquehanna. Upon the rumor of 
 their destination, the Indians had made all the preparations in their 
 power, to avert from their country the impending perdition. Under 
 the conduct of the same Johnson, Butler, and Brandt, who have 
 been mentioned in the preceding book, they had assembled in great 
 number, and had been joined by two hundred and fifty loyalists. 
 Full of confidence in their strength, they had advanced as far as 
 Newtovvn, a village which lay upon the route of Sullivan. Here, 
 while waiting his approach, they threw up a very extensive entrench- 
 ment, which they strengthened with a palisade, and some imperfect 
 redoubts after the European manner. As soon as Sullivan arrived, 
 he ordered the attack. The Indians defended themselves with great 
 vigor for more than two hours, though they had no artillery. To 
 dislodge them more easily from their lines, the American comman- 
 der ordered general Poor to draw off to the right, and turn their 
 position. At sight of this movement, which had not slackened the 
 attack in front, the Indians lost their courage, and fled in disorder. 
 Few were killed, however, and none fell into the power of the 
 victors. The Americans took possession of Newtown. The terror- 
 struck savages made no other stand. Sullivan had, therefore, no 
 further obstacle to contend with in overrunning their country, except 
 the excessive difficulty of the ways, and the embarrassment of sub- 
 sistence. His patience and dexterity triumphed over both. He 
 guided his troops into the very heart of the settlements, whose inha- 
 bitants, men, women, and children, had already escaped to the 
 deserts, and buried themselves in the most inaccessible forests. The 
 habitations were burned, the crops were ravaged, the fruit trees cut 
 down. The officers charged with the execution of these devasta- 
 tions, were themselves ashamed of them ; some even ventured to 
 remonstrate that they were not accustomed to exercise the vocation 
 of banditti. But Sullivan, being himself controlled by superior 
 orders, was inexorable. His soldiers served him with ardor ; the 
 remembrance of Wyoming was fuel to their rage. They burned an 
 immense quantity of grain.* They utterly destroyed forty villages, 
 
 '" One hundred and sixty thousand bushels of corn were destroyed. 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 20? 
 
 and left no single trace of vegetation upon the surface of the ground. 
 All the cattle which had not been removed by the Indians, were 
 brought off, or killed upon the spot. None of the bounties of nature, 
 none of the products of human industry, escaped the fury of the 
 Americans. 
 
 This expedition was not only remarkable for the rigor with which 
 it was executed, but also for the light it threw upon the condition' of 
 these savage tribes. They were found more advanced in civilisation 
 than was believed, or even than could have been reasonably sup- 
 posed. Their houses were placed in the most pleasant and healthy 
 situations ; they were roomy, neat, and not without a sort of elegance, 
 so that little mere could have been wished. Their fields, covered 
 with luxuriant harvests, attested that the art of culture was not un- 
 known to them. The antiquity and marvellous beauty of their fruit 
 trees, with the number of their orchards, were incontestable indica- 
 tions that it was no little time since they were arrived at this degree 
 of civil improvement. The sowing of grain and planting of trees 
 being an incontrovertible proof that man looks forward to the future, 
 it is manifest how erroneous was the opinion, which had hitherto 
 been maintained, that the savages were totally devoid of forecast. 
 Their progress is to be attributed to the increase of their population, 
 to their intercourse with Europeans, and particularly to the efforts of 
 missionaries, who, in times past, and even perhaps at this epoch, had 
 lived, or were living among them. The catastrophe of which they 
 were now the victims, so filled them with consternation, that they 
 never after made any remarkable movement. General Sullivan, 
 having accomplished his mission, returned to Easton, in Pennsylvania. 
 His officers and soldiers addressed him letters of thanks and felicita- 
 tion, which were also made public by means of the press ; whether 
 they did this of their own motion, or in compliance with the insinu- 
 ations of Sullivan, who was rather a light man, and exceedingly vain 
 withal. A short time after, alleging the derangement of health, he 
 requested leave to resign, and obtained it easily ; the members of 
 Congress were weary of his continual ostentation, no less than of the 
 habitual asperity of his language with respect to themselves. 
 
 Having related the events which took place upon the American 
 continent, between the royalists and republicans, and between the 
 latter and the savages, the order of this history requires that we should 
 pass to the recital of the operations of the English and French in 
 the West Indies, after the first had been reenforced by the squadron 
 of commodore Ravvley, and the second by that of the count de 
 Grasse. By the addition of these new forces, the strength of the 
 hostile fleets was rendered nearly equal. The English were strongly 
 desirous of a naval battle ; but the count d' Estaing, being much 
 superior in land forces to admiral Byron, had principally in view the 
 conquest of the neighboring English islands. He declined a general 
 
208 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 engagement, which, if unsuccessful, would render his superiority by 
 land of no avail. Fie therefore lay quietly at anchor in Fort Royal 
 of Martinico, waiting; a favorable occasion to attempt some enter- 
 prise of moment for the service of his sovereign. Fortune delayed 
 not Ion?; to offer it; admiral Byron had sailed the sixth of June from 
 St. Lucia, for the island of St. Christophers, where the West India 
 fleet of merchantmen had assembled, to wait for convoy. His inten- 
 tion was to escort them with his whole squadron, for some con- 
 siderable part of their voyage to Europe. He reflected that he 
 could not leave a part of it in any of the ports of those islands, without 
 exposing it to the attacks of an enemy greatly superior in force ; he 
 knew, besides, that M. cle la Motte Piquet was then on his way from 
 France with a strong reenforcement to d' Estaing ; and it was plain, 
 that no ordinary convoy would have been sufficient for the protection 
 of the British merchant fleet, in case of its falling in with that squa- 
 dron. No sooner was Byron departed from St. Lucia, than the 
 French hastened to profit of his absence. D' Estaing detached the 
 chevalier de St. Rumain, with five ships and four hundred land 
 troops, between regulars and militia, to attack the island of St. Vin- 
 cents. This officer fully answered the confidence of the admiral ; 
 notwithstanding the currents which drifted him out of his course, and 
 the loss of one ship, he at length effected his landing. He immedi- 
 ately occupied, sword in hand, the heights which command Kingston, 
 the capital of the island. The Caribbs, or Aborigines, an intrepid 
 and warlike race, came in multitude to join the assailants. Governor 
 Morris, though he had more troops to defend himself than de Rumain 
 had to attack him, perhaps through fear of the Caribbs, whom the 
 avarice and cruelty of the English had greatly exasperated, surren- 
 dered upon terms. The capitulation was honorable, and similar to 
 that which the governor of Dominica had obtained, when that island 
 fell into the power of the French. 
 
 In the meantime, the count d' Estaing was reenforced by the 
 arrival of the squadron commanded by M. de la Motte Piquet. His 
 fleet now consisted of twenty-five sail of the line, among which were 
 two of eighty guns and eleven of seventy-four. 
 
 This increase of force rendered him superior to Byron, who had 
 only nineteen sail of the line, of which one of ninety guns, and eleven 
 of seventy-four ; the others of inferior rate. La Motte Piquet had 
 also brought a reenforcement of regular troops, with a copious supply 
 of naval and military stores and provisions. The count d' Estaing, 
 with such means at his disposal, was encouraged to extend the scale 
 of his projects. 
 
 The conquest of Grenada was the immediate object of his enter- 
 prise. The natural strength of that island presented great difficulties ; 
 but iis situation and products rendered it highly important. He had 
 long thought of this expedition, but had chosen to defer its execution 
 

 BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 209 
 
 until he should become possessed of a superiority by sea. The 
 junction of la JVlotie Piquet having therefore decided him, he sailed 
 the thirtieth of June from Martinico, and the second of July came to 
 anchor in the harbor of Molinier. He immediately landed twenty- 
 three hundred men, for the most part Irish, in the service of France, 
 under the conduct of colonel Dillon. They rapidly occupied the 
 adjacent posts. The governor of the island was lord Macartney, 
 and its garrison consisted of two hundred regulars with six hundred 
 militia. They were posted upon a height, called jMorne de /' Hopi- 
 tal, which, besides, being naturally very steep, the English bad ren- 
 dered still more difficult of access by rude walls of stone, erected 
 from distance to distance up the ascent. They had also fortified its 
 declevity with a strong palisade, and, above it, with three intrench- 
 ments, towering in gradation. This hill commands the town of St. 
 George, the fortress and harbor. D' Estaing sent to summon Ma- 
 cartney. He answered, in truth he did not know the force of the 
 French, but that he well knew his own, and was determined to defend 
 himself. The French commander was not ignorant that the principal 
 hope of success lay in the celerity of his operations. He was fully 
 persuaded that, if he delayed his attack, he should be interrupted by 
 the arrival of Byron, to the relief of the island. He, therefore, gave 
 orders for the assault, without hesitation. The following night the 
 French approached the hill, and by two o'clock in the morning they 
 had invested it on every side. To divide the attention of the enemy, 
 they were formed in three columns, the right commanded by the 
 viscount de Noailles, the left by Dillon, and that of the centre by the 
 count u" Estaing in person, who had intrepidly put himself at the 
 head of the grenadiers. The artillery, not having cannon to serve, 
 requested and were permitted to form the van. The action was 
 commenced by a false attack at the foot of the hill, on the part of 
 the river St. John. At this signal, the three columns, with great 
 order and greater resolution, pressed up the hill to the assault. The 
 besieged sustained their onset with much firmness, and for an instant 
 the success appeared doubtful. The English even pretend to have 
 repulsed the assailants. But animated by their chiefs, they returned 
 to the charge with irresistible impetuosity. The soldiers supported 
 and impelled one another. Neither the palisades, nor the steepness 
 of the acclivity, nor the parapets, nor the most violent fire could 
 arrest the French ; their victory was complete. D' Estaing, with 
 his grenadiers, sprung the first into the English intrenchments. The 
 others followed. In a moment all the works were inundated with 
 eqfimies. The English demanded quarter, the French granted it. 
 Tl% darkness of the night had increased the horror of the combat, 
 and even the glory of the victors. They seized eleven cannon, of 
 different sizes, and six mortars. At break of day they turned this 
 artillery against the fort, which was still in the power of the English. 
 
210 THE AMERICAN WAR, BOOK XI. 
 
 At the first discharge, Macartney sent a flag, with an offer to capiti 
 late. D' Estaing granted him an hour and a half for framing hij 
 proposals ; those, which at the end- of this time he presented, wei 
 rejected. The French general then framed some terms himsell 
 with which he required immediate compliance, without the smalles 
 deviation on either side, or relaxation on his. But these were 
 unexampled and extraordinary, that Macartney and the inhabitant 
 thought it better to abandon themselves, without any condition, to the 
 discretion of the conquerors, than to accept them ; and accordingly 
 did so. If the French in this assault displayed a valor deserving of 
 eternal memory, the moderation and humanity which they manifested 
 after the victory, merit 'no inferior encomium. The capital was 
 preserved from pillage, to which it was liable by the ordinary rules 
 of war. The inhabitants were protected in their persons and pro- 
 perties. Dillon, in particular, distinguished himself by the generosity 
 of his behavior. The French found in the fort an hundred pieces 
 of cannon and sixteen mortars ; they made seven hundred prisoners. 
 They also seized thirty merchant vessels, with rich cargoes, that lay 
 in the harbor. Their loss, in killed and wounded, amounted to little 
 more than a hundred men. 
 
 The count d' Estaing had soon occasion to felicitate himself upon 
 the promptitude with which he had prosecuted his enterprise of Gre- 
 nada. For, on the sixth of July, Byron, with all his fleet, appeared 
 in view of St. Georges harbor. It was accompanied by a great 
 number of transports, filled with troops, drawn from St. Lucia. 
 This admiral, after accompanying the homeward bound West India 
 fleet till out of danger, and appointing them a convoy to see them 
 safe home, had returned with eighteen ships of the line and one 
 frigate to St. Lucia. On being apprised of the reduction of St. 
 Vincent, he sailed immediately with a body of troops under general 
 Grant for its recovery. They had not proceeded far, when they 
 were informed that the count d } Estaing had attacked Grenada. On 
 this intelligence they directly changed their course, and made the 
 best of their way for its relief. The French admiral had been 
 apprised, by the frigates he had sent out upon discovery, of the 
 approach of the British fleet. He immediately ordered the captains 
 of his ships to get under sail, and form their line well off the coast. 
 Some had already obeyed, and the others were preparing to follow 
 them, when the British armament came up, all sail out, and offered 
 battle to the count d' Estaing. The winds blew from the east and 
 east northeast, and were consequently favorable to a squadron com- 
 ing from St. Lucia towards Grenada. ,*- 
 
 Upon sight of the British fleet, the French admiral orderecHnose 
 ships which had not yet hoisted their anchors, to slip their cables 
 and proceed to take their stations with the others in order of battle. 
 But as the British approached with rapidity, these vessels placed 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 211 
 
 themselves in the line wherever they could the soonest, without hav- 
 ing regard to their ordinary posts. The English had the advantage of 
 the wind, and were standing for Grenada, under the persuasion that 
 Macartney still held out. Their transports were far astern of their 
 rear. The French were, under the wind, and standing upon the 
 opposite tack. The British admiral was eager to come to close action, 
 from a confidence that he could thus put the French fleet to rout, 
 and recover the island. On the other hand, the count d' Estaing, 
 who by the reduction of Grenada had attained his principal object, 
 was in no disposition to hazard anew a point already decided. His 
 intention was, therefore, to avoid a decisive engagement, and to con- 
 fine himself to the preservation of his new acquisition. With these 
 different views, the two admirals advanced to the encounter. Only 
 fifteen of the French ships were able at first to take part in the ac- 
 tion, the others having been forced to leeward by the violence of the 
 currents. Vice-admiral Barrington, who commanded the British 
 rear, advanced with three ships, the Prince of Wales, the Boyne and 
 the Sultan, and closed with the van of the enemy. A warm engage- 
 ment ensued, but the three English ships, not being supported in 
 time by the rest of their division, and having to contend with a much 
 superior force, were extremely damaged, especially in their sails 
 and rigging. 
 
 Such is the ordinary effect of the manner of firing of the French 
 in naval battles ; and in this, they levelled from a good distance and 
 under the wind, which also contributed to raise their shot higher. 
 Barrington was wounded. Meanwhile, the rest of the British squa- 
 dron joined him ; and on his part, d' Estaing had rallied those of his 
 ships which had not been able at first to form in a line with the fifteen 
 that commenced the action. The English still continued to push 
 their way towards Grenada, while their transports kept on their left 
 towards the open sea, their line of battle covering them from the 
 French fleet. The two armaments being thus drawn out on 
 opposite tacks, the battle continued till they were entirely passed 
 each other. But the English ships having arrived in chase, and 
 consequently rather in disorder, whereas the French, as later from 
 port, and in better condition, had more command of their move- 
 ments, and had kept their distances better, it followed that some of 
 the first had to endure the whole weight of fire from many or from 
 all of the second. Among those that suffered the most were the 
 Grafton, the Cornwall, and the Lion. The last was so shattered as 
 to be very near going to the bottom ; and the Monmouth, having 
 veato^ed singly to arrest the progress of the French van, in order to 
 brinpfci a close action, had been left little better than a wreck. 
 Meanwhile, the head of the British van, continuing its course, was 
 arrived at the mouth of St. George's harbor. But the French 
 colors that waved on the fort, and the fire of the batteries, no longer 
 
'212 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 permitted admiral Byron to doubt of the capture of the island. 
 Convinced, that in the present state of his fleet he could not hope 
 for success against so great a superiority of force, he directed captain 
 Barker, who had charge of the transports, to alter his course and 
 make the best of his way to Antigua or St. Christophers. In order 
 to protect him from the pursuit of the enemy, he stood with his fleet 
 to the northward. But the three ships, the Grafton, Cornwall nnd 
 Lion, from their dfsabled condition, not only remained far astern, but 
 fell so fast to the leeward that it was to be feared they would be cut 
 off by the French. The count d' Estaing, having observed their situa- 
 tion, had in effect put his ships about and steered to the south, in order 
 to effect what Byron apprehended, that is, to intercept them. But, to 
 defeat this design, the British admiral instantly changed his tack, and 
 steered again to the southward. While the hostile fleets thus manoeu- 
 vred in sight of each other, the Lion bore away, with what sail she 
 had left, to the west, and in a few days arrived at Jamaica. D ; 
 Estaing might easily have seized her; but he chose not to disperse 
 his fleet, for fear of falling to leeward of Grenada, whether it was 
 his intent to return for moorings. The Grafton and Cornwall found 
 means to rejoin their admiral before the French could reach them. 
 The Monmouth, no longer able to .keep the sea, was sent with all 
 despatch to Antigua. The two fleets continued in si^ht the one of 
 the other, till night, the English still plying to windward, kj order to 
 cover the retreat of the transports. The inferiority of their force, 
 and the condition of their ships, deterred them from renewing the 
 engagement. The French remained to leeward, without attempting 
 to disquiet them, whether by reason of this position, or because their 
 admiral thought it imprudent to run new risks. He might claim a 
 victory for what he had already achieved, and he had probably mo- 
 tives for avoiding decisive actions. The following morning he came 
 to anchor in the road of -St. Georges, amidst the acclamations of the 
 soldiers and of the French inhabitants, who had been spectator of 
 the action. The British transports, one only excepted, which fell 
 into the hands of the enemy, all arrived in safety at St. Christophers. 
 Admiral Byron, after remaining a few days longer at sea, repaired 
 to the same island, for the purpose of refitting his ships, which were 
 grievously damaged. 
 
 The British lost in this engagement one hundred and eighty-three 
 killed, and three hundred and forty-six wounded. The loss of the 
 French was more considerable, owing as well to the mode of firing 
 of the English, as to the great number both of sailors and land forces 
 With which their ships were crowded. Besides many o 
 note, they had about two hundred men killed, and the nu 
 their wounded amounted to nearly eight hundred. 
 
 The news of the battle of Grenada was welcomed in France with 
 great demonstrations of joy. According to the usage observed on 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 213 
 
 occasion of important victories, the king wrote to the archbishop of 
 Paris, directing that a Te Deum should be sung in the metropolitan 
 church. The count d' Estaing pretended, in effect, to have been 
 victorious ; lie alleged in his favor that he had kept his lights burning 
 during all the nights subsequent to the engagement; that Byron had 
 for several hours refused to renew it, though all the while he- had the 
 advantage of the wind ; that the British had made no movement to 
 preserve the Lion, when retiring with difficulty towards the west ; that 
 the French fleet, had captured one of the enemy's ships, conquered 
 Grenada, and baffled the project of Byron for its recovery ; and, 
 finally, that it had secured the empire of the sea in the West Indies. 
 It is indeed true, that the British admiral, in consequence of the dis- 
 abled condition of his fleet, had found it necessary to take shelter at 
 St. Christophers, where he was decided to remain until the enemy 
 should become weaker, or himself stronger. His retreat spread con- 
 sternation among the inhabitants of all the British islands, who had not 
 for a long time, nor perhaps ever befoie, seen the French masters at 
 sea. A short time after the action, d' Ebiaing, having repaired his 
 ships, set sail afresh, and paraded with his whole force in sight of St. 
 Christophers. Byron lay safely moored in the harbor of Basse 
 Terre ; the French admiral sought in vain to draw him out to com- 
 bat. Finding him obstinate in his immobility, he shaped his course 
 for St. Domingo, where he assembled the merchantmen of the dif- 
 ferent islands, and despatched them for Europe, under convoy of 
 three ships of the line and three frigates. 
 
 In this state of things, there being much of the season for opera- 
 tions still unexpired, the count d' Estaing deliberated upon the course 
 to be pursued, with most advantage to the interests of his sovereign. 
 But in the meantime, he received letters from America, advising him 
 of the extreme dissatisfaction with which the republicans observed 
 that the alliance with "France had hitherto produced nothing, upon 
 <he American continent, that corresponded either to the greatness of 
 their ally, or to the general expectation of the Americans. It was 
 represented to the French admiral that the enormous expenses incur- 
 red in the expedition of Rhode Island, had been worse than fruit- 
 less ; that the zeal with which the French fleet had been equipped 
 and victualled by the Bostonians, had produced no better effect than 
 its immediate desertion of their coasts upon distant expeditions ; that 
 the benefits of the alliance were a nullity for the Americans, since the 
 loss of Savannah and all Georgia, which had resulted from the retire- 
 ment of the French, was not compensated by the recovery of Phila- 
 d^^ia, even throwing that event into the scale, as an indirect 
 cowP|uence of their cooperation, and supposing that the American 
 arms would not otherwise have compelled the British to abandon that 
 capital ; that the occupation of Georgia by the enemy vyas fraught 
 with consequences still more alarming, since it opened him an easy 
 ii. 28 
 
214 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 entrance into the Carolines ; that he was already established in the 
 heart of America, and drew his sustenance thence ; that meanwhile, 
 the French commanders were cruising the West Indian seas, enriching 
 themselves with the conquest of British possessions, and leaving the 
 Americans to sustain by themselves the whole burthen of this despe- 
 rate war ; that it ought not therefore, to be wondered at, if the num- 
 ber of the discontented increased every day in proportion to the rapid 
 diminution of the partisans of France. These complaints were con- 
 cluded with the most earnest instances and obsecrations that he would 
 not abandon a faithful ally in the midst of surrounding perils. 
 
 The count d' Estaing could not but listen to these representations, 
 although he had received instructions from his court, to return imme- 
 diately to Europe .with the twelve ships of the line and four frigates 
 which composed the fleet of Toulon. He was directed by the same 
 instructions, to detach three sail of the line and two frigates, under 
 the conduct of La Motte Piquet, for the station of St. Domingo, and 
 to leave eight other ships of the line to winter at Martinico, under the 
 command of the count de Grasse, who was to cooperate with the 
 marquis de Bouille, for the reduction of other English islands. Such 
 were then the intentions of the French ministers; their negotiations 
 with the court of Spain were in full activity, and they wished the 
 Americans to feel all their distress, in order to obtain in the treaty 
 they were about forming with his catholic majesty, more favorable 
 stipulations for each member of the family compact. But d' Estaing 
 thought it better to obey the generous impulses of his heart, than the 
 orders of the ministry. To deprive the Americans of all pretext 
 for doubting the sincerity of his good dispositions towards them, ho 
 set sail with twenty-two sail of the line and eight frigates. He bad 
 two objects in contemplation, both of the highest importance ; but he 
 could come to no decision until he had first advised with the generals 
 of Congress. The first was the destruction of the force under gene- 
 ral Prevost, and thus freeing the province of Georgia from the pre- 
 sence of the English, and South Carolina from the danger of their 
 vicinity. The second was more decisive, and likely to be attended 
 with more difficulties; and that was, to attack, conjointly with Wash- 
 ington, the British force at New York, by sea and land at the same 
 time. The success of these two enterprises would have sufficed to 
 put an end to the war upon the American continent. 
 
 It was on the first of September that the count d' Estaing made 
 his appearance upon the coasts of Georgia, with twenty ships of the 
 line. He had detached two to Charleston of South Carolina, to give 
 notice of his arrival in those waters. It was totally unexpecUgfc) 
 the English ; their ship, the Experiment, of fifty guns, comml^Kd 
 by captain Wallace, was obliged, after a stubborn resistance, to sur- 
 render to the French. Three British frigates shared the lilfe fate, as 
 well as five transports loaded with provisions. This prize was highly 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 215 
 
 acceptable to the victors, who were much in want of supplies. Gene- 
 ral Prevost was then at Savannah, with only a part of his troops; the 
 remainder were still in their cantonments, on the island of Port Royal, 
 near the coast of Carolina. At sight of so pressing a danger, he sent 
 orders by express to colonel Maitland, who commanded in that island, 
 to rejoin him with all possible celerity. He likewise recalled the 
 detachment that occupied Sunbury. The vessels at anchor in the 
 Savannah were removed higher up, to secure them from the fire of 
 the enemy, or sunk to obstruct his passage. Other impediments for 
 the same purpose were planted in the river. The British also de- 
 stroyed the batteries they had erected in the island of Tybee, and 
 compelled the blacks to work without intermission at the fortifications. 
 The seamen, who had been put ashore, joined the land troops, and 
 were especially employed for the service of the artillery. 
 
 The news of d' Estaing's arrival excited transports of exultation at 
 Charleston. General Lincoln immediately commenced his march 
 for Savannah at the head of a strong detachment. A great number 
 of small craft were despatched to the French admiral, to facilitate the 
 debarkation of troops upon the coast, which large vessels cannot 
 approach very near. With the assistance of these light vessels, d' 
 Estaing, who had anchored off the bar which lies at the mouth of the 
 Savannah, was enabled to land his troops at Beaulieu, about thirteen 
 miles from the town of Savannah. At the same time his frigates were 
 occupied in taking possession of the lower river, and of the different 
 inlets ; approaching as near to the town and lines as the circumstan- 
 ces of water and defence would admit. On the fifteenth of Septem- 
 ber, the French appeared under the walls of Savannah. They were 
 accompanied by Pulaski's legion, who had made a forced march 
 to join them. After some slight skirmishes, general Prevost con- 
 tracted all his posts within the cover of the artillery on the works. 
 Colonel Maitland not being yet arrived, the garrison, far from being 
 sufficient for acting offensively, were scarcely competent to the de- 
 fence of the works. 
 
 D' Estaing imperiously summoned Prevost to surrender the place ; 
 he announced in high language, that he commanded the same troops, 
 a detachment of whom had recently taken the Hospital Hill, in Gre- 
 nada, by storm ; that he owed it to his humanity to remind him of it, 
 after which, it could not be imputed to him, if he should not be able 
 to restrain the fury of his soldiers, in the event of a fruitless resist- 
 ance. The Americans observed with extreme displeasure and jea- 
 lousy, that the summons was made exclusively in the name of the 
 king of France. 
 
 (general Prevost reflecting that his reenforcements had not yet 
 joined him, and that his lines were still in a very imperfect state of 
 defence," thought it prudent to gain all the lime that was possible, by 
 pretending a willingness to negotiate a capitulation. He accordingly 
 
* 
 216 THE AMERICAN \VAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 answered the French admiral, that he neither could nor should surren- 
 der without being first made acquainted with the conditions, and that 
 lie begged him to be more explicit on that head. Messages passed 
 backwards and forwards; and at length, so shrewd was Prevost, and 
 so simple or so confident was d' Estaing, that a truce of twenty-four 
 hours was agreed upon, to afford time for deliberation. During this 
 interval, colonel Maitland arrived with the troops from Port Royal, 
 after having surmounted a variety of obstructions, and made his way 
 through almost impassable swamps and morasses. On the junction 
 of this reenforcement, upon which depended, in truth, the principal 
 hope of defence, Prerosi gave the French admiral to understand, that 
 he should hold out to the last. Two days before, however, general 
 Lincoln had joined the camp of the besiegers with about three thou- 
 sand men, among regular troops and militia. The French amounted 
 to between four and five thousand. The garrison, including sailors 
 and loyalists, consisted of about three thousand men ; the French 
 established their quarters to the right, and the Americans to the left 
 of the place. After the refusal'of the British commander to surren- 
 der upon the first summons, the allies could not expect that a mere 
 assault should triumph over a formidable garrison, intrenched behind 
 works which they strengthened every day. It was, therefore, resolved 
 to commence a regular siege. The trenches were opened imme- 
 diately, and were carried on with so much vigor, that by the twenty- 
 fourth of September, a sap had been pushed to within three hundred 
 yards of the abaltis, on the left flank of the town. The besieged were 
 active in their endeavors to interrupt the works ; but their efforts were 
 ineffectual. Finally, the trenches being completed, and the batteries 
 armed, the bombardment commenced in the night of the third of 
 October ; the fire, became still more violent at daybreak on the 
 morning of the fourth, when thirty-seven pieces of cannon and nine 
 mortars were unmasked ; while sixteen other pieces of cannon 
 enfiladed the works from the shipping. To increase the terror, the 
 besiegers lanched carcasses into the town, which burned several 
 houses. Five entire days of this tempestuous fire caused infinite 
 mischief to the town, but made little impression upon the fortifica- 
 tions, which the besieged repaired with diligence, wherever they were 
 at all damaged. It even seemed, that amidst the storm of balls and 
 bombs, they daily acquired new strength and solidity. The garrison, 
 and such of the inhabitants as joined the troops in defending the 
 ramparts, received little injury. But the fate of the women, chil- 
 dren, and unarmed multitude, was indeed worthy of pity. Their 
 lives were continually threatened by the fall of their burning ro^fe. 
 Many perished, others, more unfortunate, were miserably crippled. 
 Touched by their distress, general Prevost wrote to d' Estaing, re- 
 questing permission that they should be sent aboard ships down the 
 river, and placed under the protection of a French ship of war, in 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 217 
 
 which stale they were to continue until the business oi % the siege should 
 he decided. At the same time acquainting him, that his own wife 
 and family should he among the first to profit of the indulgence. The 
 anticipation of such a request was more to have been expected from 
 a generous enemy than its refusal ; since the reduction of the place 
 depended on force, and not on famine. But the French admiral, 
 whether he acted of himself or at the instigation of general Lincoln, 
 who, like all the inhabitants of Massachusetts, carried the spirit of 
 party to the extreme, after a delay of three hours, returned a 
 haughty answer to this demand. He objected that Prevost had 
 deceived him by the truce, and that his present proposition very 
 probably concealed a new artifice. He suspected him of intending 
 by this stratagem to cover the rich spoils of Carolina. He assured 
 him, finally, that he sincerely lamented the unhappy condition of the 
 individuals for whom he petitioned, but that general Prevosl must 
 impute it wholly to himself, and those illusions which had darkened 
 his understanding. 
 
 Whatever was the ability of the British engineers, and especially 
 that of captain Moncriefle, who rendered eminent services in this 
 siege ; whatever was the valor with which the garrison defended the 
 breaches, incessantly repaired by their exertions, the British general 
 could have had little hope of holding out Ions, and still less of a 
 successful defence, if the enemy had persevered in his gradual ap- 
 proaches. But d' Eslaing experienced great difficulties. Far from 
 expecting to encounter so obstinate a resistance under the walls of 
 Savannah, he had calculated with such confidence on a prompt sur- 
 render, that he had come to anchor with his fleet of heavy capital 
 ships, upon an inhospitable coasi, and in a most critical season of the 
 year. He had even signified to the Americans, .that he could not 
 remain on shore more than eight or ten days. Twenty were already 
 elapsed since the siege had commenced, and still there appeared no 
 immediate prospect of its termination. The season was growing 
 worse every day, and the naval officers were continually representing 
 to their admiral the perils to which he would expose the ships and 
 troops of the king, if he persisted any longer in the prosecution of 
 this expedition. It might also happen, that a. British fleet would 
 arrive with every advantage united, and force the French squadron 
 to engage, at a moment when a part of its crews and artillery were 
 thus employed in the siege of Savannah. Under these considera- 
 tions, although the trenches were not yet carried to the requisite 
 perfection, and though no considerable breach had been opened, the 
 cotitt d' Estaing resolved to attempt the assault. Necessity new 
 urged him to this extreme counsel, after having delayed to embrace 
 it when at his landing he had found the works not yet completed, 
 and the garrison not yet reenforced by colonel Maitlaud. 
 
218 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 He consulted with general Lincoln upon the plan of attack ; it was 
 determined to direct it against the right flank of the place. On this 
 side, a swampy hollow way might bring the besiegers under cover to 
 within fifty yards of some of the principal works, and, at some points 
 ,':till nearer. 
 
 The ninth of October, before day, the count d' Estaing and gene- 
 ral Lincoln, having formed the flower of both armies in three 
 columns, advanced by the hollow way to reconnoitre the point of 
 attack. But through the darkness, they took a greater circuit to the 
 left, and got deeper in the bog than they needed or intended to 
 have done ; a circumstance which, besides the loss of time, could 
 scarcely fail of producing some disorder in the columns. They, 
 however, soon formed anew, approached the foot of the walls, and 
 mounted to the assault with incredible spirit and audacity. It is said, 
 that the English had notice of it the preceding evening, and that they 
 were, consequently, prepared. It is certain, at least, that they de- 
 fended themselves with a vigor not inferior to that which assailed 
 them. A redoubt on the Ebenezer road became the scene of the 
 most terrible conflict. But every where the same courage was dis- 
 played, and no where could it be conjectured which of the parties 
 victory was disposed to crown. D' Estaing and Lincoln were at the 
 head of their columns, exposed to the most violent fire. Prevost, 
 jMaitland and MoncriefFe, displayed an equal ardor ; they continually 
 stimulated their soldiers to repulse from their walls, to exterminate 
 these rebels to the king, and those inveterate enemies of the British 
 name. The combat was supported for above an hour with the same 
 fury. But little by little the assailants became exhausted by their 
 eifcrts. They were excessively galled by the artillery, which Mon- 
 eriefFe had disposed with extreme dexterity, and which assailed them 
 in almost every direction with a deluge of balls and grape-shot. The 
 violence of the attack abated, and the besieged hailed the moment in 
 which they saw their safety in their own hands. They made a vigor- 
 ous sally ; a corps of grenadiers and marines was at the head of the 
 column which, in a few instants, swept the ramparts and ditches. 
 Not content with this first success, and hurried on by their impetu- 
 osity, the English pursued their enemies, and drove them in the 
 greatest confusion through the abattis into the hollow we have men- 
 tioned. This movement was executed with such rapidity, that the 
 reenforcements which Prevost had pushed forward could not arrive 
 in tirte to take part in it. Nor should it be omitted, that in the 
 height of the assault, the count Pulaski, at the head of two hundred 
 li^ht horse, charging at full speed, attempted to penetrate into the 
 town, in order to assail the British in rear. But he received a mor- 
 tal wound ; his troop, on seeing him fall, were discouraged and fell 
 back. 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 219 
 
 When the fog and smoke were dissipated, which had darkened 
 the air during the combat, horrible was the spectacle that discovered 
 itself. Heaps of dead and dying covered the ground, and particu- 
 larly near the Ebenezer redoubt ; streams of blood rilled from the 
 wrecks; lamentable cries arose on every side. The allies requested 
 a truce with leave to bury the dead, and carry off the wounded ; the 
 first was granted, but a restriction laid in point of distance as to the 
 rest. The assault of Savannah cost the allies a great sacrifice of 
 men. The loss of the French in killed and wounded amounted to 
 upwards of seven hundred ; more than forty of whom were officers. 
 Among the wounded were d' Estaing himself, the viscounts de Fon- 
 tange and de Bethizy, and the baron de Steding. The Americans 
 lost in slain and wounded about four hundred. The loss on the 
 British side, as they fought secure, was inconsiderable. Great civili- 
 ties now passed between the French camp and the British lines, and 
 many apologies were made for the answer returned general Prevost 
 with respect to the women and children. They were now pressed 
 to place themselves in the situation which they had then requested ; 
 the Chimera, commanded by the chevalier de St. Rumain, was 
 named for the reception of the general's wife, her children and 
 company. Prevost answered with a certain bluntness, that what had 
 been -once refused, and that in terms of insult, could not in any 
 circumstance be deemed worth the acceptance. 
 
 A few duys after died the count Pulaski, a Pole of illustrious birth. 
 Finding no opportunity in his own country to employ his sword in 
 the-.defence of liberty, of which he was one of the most zealous par- 
 tisans, he took the generous resolution to repair to the succour of the 
 cause he adored in America. If he lost life there, he also left a 
 name revered by all the brave. . It is related, that when his death 
 was announced to the king of Poland, he exclaimed ; ' Pulaski ! 
 always valiant, but always foe to kings.' It cannot be denied that 
 king Stanislaus had good reason to complain of him. The Corytress 
 decreed him a monument. 
 
 The eighteenth of October, the allied army raised the siege of 
 Savannah ; its retreat was effected so precipitately that it was im- 
 possible for the English to pursue it. General Lincoln passed his 
 regular troops to the left bank of the Savannah, the militia disbanded. 
 The French reernbarked with all their troops, artillery and stores. 
 The count d' Estaing immediately set sail to clear the coasts of 
 America. His intention was to return to Europe with a part of his 
 fleet, and to send the remainder to the West Indies ; but a violent 
 storm dispersed his ships, and he had great difficulty in getting them 
 together again. 
 
 Such was the issue of the count d' Estaing's campaign upon the 
 coasts of North America, of that campaign in which the allies had 
 placed such sanguine hopes. After missing the expedition of the 
 
220 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 Delaware, he twice abandoned that of Newport at the moment fru- 
 its accomplishment. Finally, under the walls of Savannah, he 
 showed himself at first too circumspect ; he delayed the attack, and 
 afterwards precipitated an assault which resulted in discomfiture. 
 He conquered, it is true, two important islands in the West Indies, 
 and fought with no little glory a veteran British fleet, commanded hy 
 the most able seamen. D' Estaing was no less precipitate in counsel 
 than impetuous in execution. Il fortune, as the friend of the adven- 
 turous, had shown herself more propitious to his efforts, or to the 
 excellent plans which had been framed for him by the French min- 
 istry, he would indubitably have given paralysing strokes to the naval 
 power of England ; he would have afforded America all that assist- 
 ance on which she had founded her hope of promptly terminating 
 the war. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, that if the cooperation of the French 
 -admiral was not so advantageous to the Americans as they might 
 reasonably have expected, it was, nevertheless, far from being with- 
 out its utility. His presence was a check upon the English, and 
 prevented them from moving so soon as they purposed to 'have done 
 against tho southern provinces. Moreover, the British ministers 
 fearing not only for Rhode Island, but even for New York, if their 
 troops continued dispersedly to occupy both these provinces, besides 
 other positions, ordered general Clinton to evacuate the first. He 
 accordingly did so, the twenty-fifth of October, and withdrew the 
 garrison to New York. Thus Rhode Island, which had fallen with- 
 out resistance into the hands of the royalists, returned peaceably into 
 the power of the republicans. As the fleet of the count d' Estaing 
 was then upon the coasts of Georgia, the British generals, under the 
 apprehension of its coming suddenly upon Rhode Island, made their 
 retreat from Newport with so much precipitation, that ihey left be- 
 hind them all their heavy artillery, and a considerable quantity of stores. 
 The^Americans took possession of them immediately. They kept the 
 British colors floating on the ramparts for several days ; this strata- 
 gem decoyed into their power many of the king's vessels, which 
 came to surrender themselves at Newport. 
 
 Having related the military operations of this campaign, as well 
 on the American continent, as in the West Indies, it is not without 
 interest to cast a glance upon the affairs of the interior, and to ex- 
 amine what was, at this epoch, the state of the finances, what were 
 the opinions and the intrigues of the different parlies which agitated 
 a people embarked in the tumultuous career of revolution. If the 
 union of the arms of France with those of the Congress had procured 
 real advantages to the Americans, and if it authorised them to hope 
 well of the future, it cannot be denied, on the other hand, that it had 
 a prejudicial effect upon their public spirit. This powerful protec- 
 tion itself, with the hopes which were its immediate and necessary 
 
UOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAS. 221 
 
 result, easily persuaded the colonists that their quarrel approached 
 its decision, that England would soon have to yield, and that in the 
 meantime they might take their ease till the moment of deliverance 
 should arrive. This same cause, which should have excited their 
 emulation towards their great ally, and stimulated them to concur 
 with fresh ardor to the common aim, seemed, on the contrary, to 
 have ahated their courage. They were impatient to enjoy that re- 
 pose during the continuance of danger which they ought not to have 
 desired until they had fully attained their intent. Amidst the bril- 
 liant images'of approaching felicity with which their glowing imagina- 
 tions continually regaled them, they forgot to reflect that success 
 might still elude them while in the act of grasping it. France, on 
 seeing their torpor, might have changed her counsels ; had she not 
 in their indolence, a plausible pretext and a new motive for a policy 
 which never hesitates to serve itself at the sacrifice of its allies ? 
 Was it not possible even that Spain, whose accession was ardently 
 desired as the pledge of victory, might refuse to combat for a cause 
 so frigidly supported by its own defenders f The Americans seemed 
 not to recollect, that, if formidable armies hasten the final decision of 
 wars, they only also can render the conditions of peace honorable. 
 All these considerations were in a manner slighted by the bulk of the 
 nation. Content with what they had hitherto done, and placing 
 great reliaix'e in the efficacy of French succours, they seemed in- 
 clined to leave to their allies the care of settling their quarrel. The 
 indifference which had infected all classes, was as profound as the 
 enthusiasm of former years had been intense. There could not have 
 existed a more sinister augury ; experience demonstrates that though 
 it be but too easy to inflame a people the first time, nothing is more 
 difficult than to rekindle its ardor when once extinct. The leading 
 Americans, and Washington in particular, were too enlightened not to 
 take alarm at this state of things ; they saw the evil in all its extent, 
 and spared no exertions in applying such remedies as they could. 
 They had recourse to exhortations, to the remembrance of past ex- 
 ploits ; they represented the necessity of not forfeiting the respect of 
 the allies ; the perils that still impended ; the power and the intrigues 
 of England ; all was in vain. Irnbosomed in apathy, these reckless 
 spirits abandoned to chance the decision of their dearest interests ; 
 nothing could rouse them. The recruiting of the army progressed 
 with the most tedious slowness. The soldiers that were under Wash- 
 ington, some because they had completed their engagements, others 
 because they were tired of serving, deserted their colors, and retired 
 to their homes. And by what means were they to be replaced ? 
 Scarcely a few individuals were found who would engage according 
 to the regulations of Congress, for three years or till the end of the 
 war. Engagements for a shorter term, could be of no utility to the 
 service, and\he backwardness of the people warranted no calculation 
 VOL. n. 29 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XL 
 
 even upon that resource. To draw them by lot, and constrain them 
 to march, was thought, and was, in fact, too dangerous a measure to 
 be adopted in the present temper of minds. The same lethargy 
 seemed to have overspread the army itself. It was well for it, that 
 the English were so little enterprising. 
 
 Such was the real origin of the langor that characterised all the 
 operations of this year's campaign. Washington, besides, adhering 
 to his uniform purpose of never coming to action, except with every 
 probability of success, would not commit to the hazard of battles the 
 fate of a cause, which he considered as already gained. Far from 
 challenging the enemy, he deemed himself extremely fortunate in 
 not being attacked. If events had taken the direction they should 
 have done, he would doubtless have found some opportunity to strike 
 an important blow for the service and glory of his country. Perhaps 
 the English would not have passed the year so quietly as they did 
 in New York ; and perhaps Rhode Island would have fallen less 
 tardily under the domination of America. 
 
 The royal troops, in effect, had been much weakened in the first 
 months of the year, by the detachments they were obliged to make 
 to the West Indies and Georgia. But it almost always happens that 
 the most propitious occasions are lost amidst the tumult of popular 
 revolutions ; wherein the government, as being new, shows itself the 
 more feeble, as the opinions of individuals manifest themselves with 
 less restraint, and greater violence ; and public opinion, which can 
 only originate from a settled order of things, as yet, has no basis. 
 If sometimes success attend the enterprise, it must more frequently 
 be imputed to chance than to calculation. Such was, at this epoch, 
 the condition of the people of America. If in Georgia and Carolina 
 some efforts were made to repel the enemy, it was principally the 
 work of the militia of these two provinces, whose interest was then 
 immediately at stake. The others folded their arms, or contented 
 themselves with the adoption of spiritless measures. As if they con- 
 sidered themselves released from the ties of the confederation, they 
 made not their own cause of the danger that menaced the neighbor- 
 ing provinces. Nor were the Americans chargeable only with Juke- 
 warmness, and this strange indifference to the fate of country ; there 
 also began to prevail amongst them a shameless thirst of gain, an 
 unbridled desire of riches, no matter by what means acquired. The 
 most illicit, the most disgraceful ways, were no obstacle to this 
 devouring passion. As it happens but too often in political revolu- 
 tions, there had sprung up a race of men who sought to make their 
 private advantage of the public distress. Dependence or independ- 
 ence, liberty or no liberty, were all one to them, provided they could 
 fatten on the substance of the state. While good citizens were 
 wasting themselves in camps, or in the discharge of the most 
 arduous functions ; while they were devoting to their country, their 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 223 
 
 time, their estates, their very existence, these insatiable robbers were 
 plundering, and sharing out, without a blush, the public fortune, and 
 private fortunes. All private contracts became the object of their 
 usurious interference and nefarious gains ; all army supplies enriched 
 them with peculations ; and the state often paid dearly for what it 
 never obtained. Nor let any imagine that the most sincere and 
 virtuous friends of their country ever made so pompous a parade of 
 their zeal ! To hear these vile beings, they only were animated with 
 a genuine and glowing patriotism. Every citizen of eminent rank, or 
 invested with any public authority whatever, who refused to connive 
 at their rapines was immediately denounced as lukewarm, tory, 
 royalist, sold to England ; it would seem that the first duly of those 
 who governed the republic in times of such distress, was to fill the 
 coffers of these flaming patriots. That their own praises should 
 always have hung upon their lips is not to be wondered at ; for there 
 has never existed a robber, who had not been first a cheat ; but 
 what seems really strange, and almost staggers belief, is that they 
 could have found partisans and dupes. This public pest spread 
 wider every day ; it had already gangrened the very heart of the 
 state. The good were silenced, the corrupt plumed themselves upon 
 their effrontery ; every thing presaged an approaching ruin ; it was 
 the hope of England. Shall we attempt to penetrate the causes of 
 so great a change, in a nation once so distinguished for the purity of 
 its manners ? 
 
 It will be found, that besides the general relaxation, which war 
 too generally produces in the morals of the people, new govern- 
 ments, destitute of money, are constrained to procure it, and all their 
 resources at the hands of usurers. The example is contagious ; it 
 rapidly obtains throughout the community. These same govern- 
 ments find themselves compelled by the force of circumstances to 
 give the preference and yield much to individuals who adhere, or 
 pretend to adhere to their party. They accept for security in the 
 most important transactions, a zeal for the public good, whether real 
 or feigned. If it is necessary that they should welcome such sort of 
 beings when they present themselves, they must, for the same rea- 
 son, be tender in punishing when they detect them in delinquency* 
 Briefly, in such an order of things, the man of worth, must, of neces- 
 sity, make room for the man of naught. Not only unpunished, but 
 tolerated, but employed, but encouraged, the species rapidly multi- 
 plies. Like pestilential bodies, whose bare contact infects those 
 that are sound, vice soon poisons honesty in the hearts it can steal 
 upon. 
 
 But one of the first and most operative causes of so deplorable a 
 change in American morality, unquestionably lay in the depreciation 
 of paper money. It was such at the commencement of this year, 
 that eight dollars in bills could only command one in specie. The 
 
224 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xf. 
 
 fall of this paper was daily accelerated, as well from the continual 
 emissions by the Congress, as by the little efficacy of the French 
 succours, and the disasters of Georgia. In the month of December, 
 a dollar in specie could hardly be obtained with forty of paper. * 
 Nor is there any thing surprising in this, when it is considered that 
 independent of the dubious stability of the state, there was in the 
 month of September, the sum of one hundred and dfty-nine millions, 
 nine hundred and forty-eight thousand, eight hundred and eighty-two 
 dollars of the paper of Congress in the thirteen United States. If to 
 this mass be added the bills emitted by the particular provinces, it 
 will readily be seen how immeasurably the aggregate amount of this 
 sort of debt surpassed the resources of the new republic. The rapid 
 declension of this currency is further accounted for by the extreme 
 activity with which the loyalists and English employed themselves in 
 counterfeiting it. T(iere often arrived from England entire chests of 
 those spurious bills, and so perfectly imitated that they were scarcely 
 to be distinguished from the genuine. The British generals, and 
 especially Clinton, though in reluctant obedience to the orders of the 
 ministry, spared no pains in disseminating them throughout the con- 
 tinent. It cannot be doubted, but that the cabinet of St. James 
 considered this falsification of the bills of credit, as a most effica- 
 cious mean for the recovery of its colonies. The British ministers 
 were perfectly aware that it was the only pecuniary resource at the 
 disposal of Congress for the support of the war, and they calculated 
 by draining it to disarm the Americans. Unquestionably it was 
 neither the first time nor the last that this mode of making war has 
 been resorted to ; but it will always, nevertheless, be held in abhor- 
 rence by all good men. For public faith should always be respected 
 even between enemies ; and of all perfidies is there one more fright- 
 ful, and especially more vile than the counterfeiting of money ? In 
 addition to all this, the commerce which the Americans had been 
 wont to carry on by means of their products, with England and other 
 nations, was totally interrupted ; and as their soil and industry fur- 
 nished them with but a small part of the articles essential to war, 
 they were under the necessity of procuring them from abroad, and 
 with gold and silver. Hence it resulted that specie, which even 
 before the war had become distressingly scarce, diminished progres- 
 sively, and daily advanced in price, in the ratio of its rarity. The 
 bills proportionably lost their value in public estimation. From their 
 alarming depreciation it followed not only that all purses were closed, 
 and that the markets, scantily, and with extreme difficulty supplied, 
 became the object of the continual murmurs of the people, but even 
 that the faith of contracts was violated, and that individual probity 
 was every where relaxed. With little, debtors acquitted themselves 
 
 * The cost of a simple i*epastj or a pair of shoes, was from fqrty to fifty dollars of this 
 depreciated paper. 
 
iiOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAH. 225 
 
 of much towards their creditors. Very few, at first, resorted to this 
 unworthy expedient ; but as evil propagates itself more rapidly than 
 good, a multitude of citizens stained themselves with the same re- 
 proach, and the contagion became general. Herein the faithless 
 and avaricious debtor was no respecter of persons ; Washington him- 
 self experienced this odious return from persons he had generously 
 succoured in their necessities. 
 
 The distress of the times had likewise given birth to another race 
 of men, who devoted themselves to the business of speculating upon 
 the depreciation of bills, dexterously profiting of a temporary rise or 
 fall ; and these variations of current price depended much less on 
 the more or less favorable posture of public affairs, than upon news 
 invented and circulated by those jobbers, or their intrigues and mo- 
 nopolies. Useful arts, and the labors of a fair commerce, were aban- 
 doned for the more alluring chances of paper negotiations. The 
 basest of men enriched themselves ; the most estimable sunk into 
 indigence. The finances of the state, the fortunes of individuals, 
 experienced the same confusion. Nor was avarice the extent of the 
 evil ; the contagion of that pestiferous passion attacked the very 
 source of every virtue. Private interest every where carried it 
 against the interests of the public. A greater number than it is easy 
 to believe, looked upon the love of country as a mere illusion, which 
 held out no better prospect than ruin and desolation. Nobody would 
 enlist without exorbitant bounty ; nobody would contract to furnish 
 the public supplies, none would supply the contractors, vjithout enor- 
 mous profits first lodged in their hands ; none would accept of an 
 office or magistracy without perfect assurance of a scandalous salary 
 and illicit perquisites. The disorder, the depravation, were pushed 
 to such a point, that perhaps never was the ancient adage more 
 deplorably confirmed, that there is no haltingplace on the road of 
 corruption. 
 
 To the insatiable thirst of gold was joined the rage of party spirit ; 
 even the members of Congress could not escape its vortex. Hence 
 they too often disputed among themselves about their personal affairs, 
 instead of discussing the grave and important interests of the state. 
 When a feeble nation places itself under the patronage of one that 
 is powerful, and looks up to it for protection, that nation must expect 
 to find its bosom agitated by the tumults of party and the fury of 
 faction. Some citizens, more occupied with their country's interests, 
 or their own ambition than the necessity of maintaining a good un- 
 derstanding with the more powerful nation, depart from the route 
 which policy would have prescribed. Unguarded in their language 
 and actions, they are continually liable to give umbrage to the agents 
 of their great ally. Others, guided by the love of their country, or 
 by their private interest, show themselves more feeble ; they yield 
 without resistance, they flatter and caress. Each of these parties is 
 
226 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 equally in erroV. The first pluming themselves in vain upon the 
 name of Independents, cannot in all respects assume the manners it 
 implies, when they have an indispensable need of a tutelary support. 
 The second omit to reflect that their excessive condescension does 
 but imbolden their ally to crave without measure as without end. 
 To observe a just medium between these extremes, requires a con- 
 summate prudence. The latter class are, of course, by far the most 
 agreeable to the agents of the guardian power ; they find them 
 docile instruments, and. if, as too often happens, assailable on the 
 side of avarice, or ambition, prompt to serve as spies, as informers, 
 as tools whose base devotion no longer knows a check. The con- 
 trast and rivalship of these two factions soon degenerate into open 
 war. The one reproaches the other with sacrificing the state to their 
 cupidity, with betraying it, selling it to their protectors ; with no 
 longer having a country save that of their new masters ; they load 
 them with contempt and execration. These answer their adversa- 
 ries that an ill timed arrogance may deprive the state of an indis- 
 pensable prop ; that it will be time enough to put on airs of independ- 
 ence when it is actually achieved ; that in all their discussions wise 
 men, and especially statesmen, describe a .curve, when a right line 
 leads to. a precipice; that affairs of state should not be swayed by 
 the self-love of individuals ; that in policy the most useful is always 
 the most honorable ; and, finally, that no one ought to blush when 
 he attains the object of his aim. Such was the language of the 
 more moderate among those called Dependents. But others, hurried 
 away by the spirit of party, or wishing to disguise their baseness, 
 exclaimed aloud that the Independents were the enemies of France ; 
 that they were friends of England ; with her they kept up a trai- 
 torous correspondence ; to her they betrayed the secrets of the 
 state ; that they would fain violate the faith of treaties, and dissolve 
 the alliance solemnly concluded with the French, in order to listen 
 to the proposals of England, and throw themselves into her arms. 
 It is to be observed, in effect, that at this very time, the British 
 ministers were laboring incessantly to seduce the chiefs of the Ame- 
 rican government with new offers of peace, even at the acknowledg- 
 ment of independence. The scope of this conduct might have 
 been to excite the jealousy of France, or to foment factions in Ame- 
 rica, or perhaps really to obtain peace and alliance with the United 
 States. 
 
 However it was, these overtures had in part the effect which the 
 British cabinet probably had expected ; they were but too well 
 seconded by a species of men who find their proper element in con- 
 fusion ; and intestine dissentions agitated every part of the American 
 continent. Not private. citizens only, but the very members of the 
 government, applied themselves with infinitely more ardor to pull 
 each other to pieces, than to the discharge of their duties. These 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 227 
 
 seeds of discord had long been germinating, they developed them- 
 selves with still greater rapidity, when Silas Deane returned to the 
 United States aboard the squadron of the count d' Estaing. At 
 first commercial agent of America in Europe, he had been one of 
 the three commissioners who had signed the treaty of fslliance at 
 Paris. Secretly irritated at having been recalled, in haste to turn 
 accuser before being accused himself, and careful to make his court 
 to the French, he declared every where, and afterwards printed, 
 that the Congress would not hear the report of his mission to Paris ; 
 that they refused to adjust his accounts; that Arthur Lee, one of the 
 three commissioners, William Lee, American consul in Europe, and 
 their two brothers, members of Congress, kept up a secret corre- 
 spondence with England ; that they, and all their adherents, endea- 
 vored in various ways to disgust the court of France, and especially 
 in opposing the reimbursement to particular Frenchmen of suras 
 which they had expended at the commencement of the war in the 
 purchase of arms and military stores for account of America. That 
 they were now intriguing to displace Franklin as they had before 
 attempted to pull down Washington ; that, in a word, they had con- 
 spired to change men and things, and to give another direction to the 
 policy of the state. The writing which Deane published and distri- 
 buted with profusion, in the month of December 1778, produced a 
 vehement stir; the spirit of party eagerly seized this new subject of 
 discord and hatred. The brothers Lee answered with moderation ; 
 but Thomas Paine and William Drayton stepped forward to avenge 
 them roundly. They retorted upon Deane, that the Congress not 
 only consented to hear him, but that they had already heard him, 
 and had notified him that they were ready to give him audience 
 anew ; that if they had not passed his accounts, it was for want of 
 verifications ; Deane having himself, either through forgetfulness or 
 design, left them behind in France ; that if Arthur Lee kept up a 
 correspondence with England, he was sufficiently authorised in it by 
 his character of ambassador; that during his residence at Paris, he 
 had addressed the Congress letters incomparably more able, lumi- 
 nous and fraught with intelligence than those of his calumniator, who 
 had never written a word of any solidity ; that the friendship of a 
 power so generous as France, could be better preserved by an erect 
 and noble deportment, than by a servile adulation towards its agents; 
 that if the reimbursement of those Frenchmen who had furnished 
 arms and munitions had not been yet effected, it was because that 
 Deane himself, in concert with the other commissioners of Congress, 
 had written that no payment was to be made for these supplies, 
 which were to be considered as the voluntary gifts of zealous friends 
 of America ; that no thought had ever been entertained of recalling 
 Franklin, because it was perfectly well known how much theadvic.es 
 furnished by that estimable man, as well as the contracts he had made 
 
THE AMERICAN VVAU. BOOK XI. 
 
 in France, differed from every thing in the correspondence and ope- 
 rations of Silas Deane ; that neither was it forgotten what difference 
 of manners and pretensions existed between those Frenchmen who 
 had treated with Franklin for an engagement in the American ser- 
 vice, and those whom Deane had sent out to America ; that no one 
 could better judge than himself whether the facts recapitulated were 
 likely to redound to his honor ; that, as for the rest, it little became 
 Deane to call up the intrigues, real or supposed, of which Wash- 
 ington had been the object, since himself, when he resided at Paris 
 as agent for the Congress, had suggested for serious deliberation, 
 whether it would not be advantageous to confide the supreme com- 
 mand of the American troops to one of the most distinguished 
 generals of Europe, as for example, to prince Ferdinand, or Mare- 
 schal de Broglie ; that it was right and proper to keep the faith 
 pledged to France, but that it was right and proper also, agreeably 
 to the usage of all states, ,to hear the propositions, and to receive 
 the overtures, which promised to promote the welfare of the country, 
 from whatever quarter they might come. 
 
 The tenor of the paragraphs published by Paine and Drayton, 
 was far from being agreeable to Gerard, the minister of France ; 
 he noticed with pain the avowal of negotiations kept up with Eng- 
 land, and the declaration of a refusal to liquidate the disbursements 
 made by his countrymen. He addressed very energetic complaints" 
 to the Congress: in order to appease him, that assembly declared 
 that they disapproved the contents of the published memorials, and 
 that they were convinced that the supplies furnished by certain 
 French individuals, could not be considered as a gift. The Con- 
 gress had, in truth, been made debtor for them in the accounts pre- 
 sented, whether the intention of those who furnished them had 
 never been to offer them as a mere donative, or that Deane had 
 made them the object of a sordid speculation. Opinions were then 
 much divided on that point. The Congress, moreover, renewed the 
 declaration that the United States would never conclude either peace 
 or truce with Great Britain, without the formal and previous consent 
 of their august ally. Thomas Paine requested and obtained leave 
 to resign the office he filled, of secretary of Congress for the foreign 
 department. The government either was, or pretended to be dissa- 
 tisfied with him, for the disclosure he had made, in this discussion, of 
 facts which it would rather have kept still under the veil. 
 
 So many elements of discord would perhaps have sufficed to 
 kindle civil war in America, if its inhabitants had been less familiar- 
 ised with liberty. Their attention was, besides, taken up by two 
 important objects ; one was the imminent peril to which the two 
 Carolinas were exposed a short time after, in consequence of the 
 siege of Charleston by sir Henry Clinton ; the other, the negotiations 
 opened with Spain, and, soon afterwards, the active part she took in 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 229 
 
 the war. The court of Madrid, as we have already seen, glowed 
 with desire to interfere in the grand quarrel which had just broken 
 out. Besides the mutual hatred which animated the English and 
 Spanish nations, Spain had also in view to humble the odious British 
 arrogance, to recover Gibraltar and Jamaica, and to conquer the 
 two F/oridas, which appeared to her essential to the entire command 
 of the Gulf of Mexico. She was now also stimulated by France, 
 who, not content with representing to her the common interest she 
 had in this war, pressed her and summoned her every day to fulfill 
 the stipulations of the family compact. Meanwhile, particular con- 
 siderations pointed her to a more circumspect procedure. American 
 independence could scarcely seem to smile upon her entirely, when 
 she reflected on the contagion of example, and her own colonies. 
 Her backwardness to declare herself was also perhaps concerted 
 with France, in order to obtain better conditions from the Americans. 
 The court of Versailles had regretted to find itself constrained to 
 take a decisive step, after the unexpected victory of general Gates, 
 which had started the apprehension that England would consent, for 
 the sake of reconciliation with her colonies, to acknowledge their 
 independence. France would much rather have persisted in her 
 original plan, and stood aloof still for a long time, waiting for the 
 Americans to be reduced to the last extremity, in order to wring 
 from them more advantageous conditions for herself, than those of 
 the two treaties of commerce and alliance. But the success of the 
 Americans having baffled her designs, she still had in reserve the 
 chance of making them pay a round price for the accession of Spain. 
 With this drift, she magnified excessively the advantages they might 
 expect from it, in order to extort from their impatience, what preci- 
 pitation had defeated her of at the time of her own declaration. 
 The ultimate object of all these manosuvres, was to secure to the 
 subjects of France, in the future treaty of peace, the fisheries of 
 Newfoundland, to the exclusion of the citizens of the United States ; 
 and to Spain, the possession of the two Floridas, the exclusive navi- 
 gation of the Mississippi, with the sovereignty of the regions situated 
 on the left bank of that river, and behind the frontiers of the confe- 
 derate provinces. Accordingly, to prove to the Americans how 
 strong an interest he took in their cause, and to Europe, according 
 to usage, his ardent desire to preserve peace, the king of Spain 
 offered his mediation. He considered it, moreover, as a justificative 
 measure of the war he was about to undertake, for he was by no 
 means ignorant that England would not accept it. The court of 
 London knew too well that Spain, united to France by the strictest 
 ties, could not be an impartial mediatrix ; it knew also, that media- 
 tors of this description always finish with becoming declared enemies. 
 The court of Madrid intending also to establish, as the basis of the 
 negotiation for peace, that Great Britain should treat her colonies as 
 VOL. H. 30 
 
230 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xi, 
 
 independent, it was not presumable that she would accept a condi- 
 tion which was precisely the principal point in contest. Neverthe- 
 less, the marquis d' Almodovar, his catholic majesty's ambassador, 
 presented to the court of London a plan of accommodation, which 
 contained, besides the article above, those which follow. That, in 
 order the more easily to extinguish the flames of war, the crowns of 
 France and of Great Britain should lay down arms and consent to a 
 general truce ; that their respective plenipotentiaries should convene 
 at a place agreed upon, for the purpose of adjusting their differences; 
 that Great Britain should grant a like truce to the American colo- 
 nies ; that a line of boundary should be drawn, which neither of the 
 belligerent parties might transcend during the armistice ; that both 
 his Britannic majesty and the colonies should send one or more 
 commissioners to the city of Madrid, in order to consent to the pre- 
 ceding conditions, and all such others as might tend to conciliation. 
 To this offer of mediation the British ministers made only evasive 
 and dilatory answers. If they were not disposed to accept it, since 
 it involved the acknowledgment of independence, they avoided also 
 to reject it too ostensibly, as well not to excite the discontent of their 
 nation, as to gain time to open negotiations with the courts of 
 Europe. Their intention was to offer advantageous conditions to 
 France, in order to detach her from America, and to America, in 
 order to detach her from France. And, in case, as they presumed, 
 these negotiations should fail of success, they purposed to use strenu- 
 ous endeavors with the other powers, in order to excite some move- 
 ment in Europe against France. They hoped thus to find her so 
 much employment on shore that she would be obliged to neglect her 
 marine, and that it would of course become an easy task to vanquish 
 it. They conceived also, that when America should see her ally 
 engaged in a new struggle, she would show herself more disposed to 
 enter into an arrangement with England. Such was then the policy 
 of the powers at war, and of those that were inclined to take part 
 therein. 
 
 Meanwhile, France and Spain, with a view of obtaining from 
 America the conditions which, since her separation with England, 
 were the main scope of their counsels, notified to the Congress, 
 through M. Gerard, the French minister at Philadelphia, the offer 
 of mediation made to the court of London by that of Madrid. He 
 was directed to observe, that the object of all mediation being peace, 
 it was natural to presume that conferences were about to be opened 
 for its negotiation and conclusion. He invited the Congress to 
 appoint plenipotentiaries to take part in these negotiations, whether 
 with England or with Spain ; he also urged the expediency of their 
 making known the basis on which they were disposed to treat. He 
 added, that he felt it his duty to intimate that circumstances did not 
 permit the United States to carry their pretensions higher than their 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 231 
 
 fortune ; that, consequently, it was desirable that they should be 
 moderate in their demands in order not to furnish England with a 
 pretext for standing out, and that Spain might be enabled to prose- 
 cute her mediation to a successful conclusion. ' As to the acknow- 
 ledgment of American independence,' continued the French minister, 
 ' it is to be expected that Great Britain, out of that pride which 
 sovereigns have, and which it becomes them to have, will manifest 
 an extreme repugnance to making it in form. This case has been 
 provided for in the treaty of alliance, where it is stipulated that its 
 object is to obtain for the United States independence, whether 
 express or implied. France knows by her own experience, what it 
 costs monarchs to proclaim in formal terms the independence of 
 those they have once governed as subjects. Spain, in preceding 
 ages, did but tacitly acknowledge the independence of Holland, after 
 a war of thirty years, and not formally till after a resistance of 
 seventy. Up to this very time, the republic of Geneva and the 
 thirteen Swiss Cantons, have not as yet been able to obtain from the 
 states of which they made part, an express acknowledgment of their 
 independence and sovereignty. As for the rest, since you enjoy the 
 object of your wishes, you ought to attach very little importance to 
 mere words.' It is to be remarked, that the French minister affect- 
 ed to be much in earnest in his efforts to bring over the Americans 
 to this way of thinking, because he was convinced that they would 
 not adopt it ; and that therefore to induce France and Spain to exact 
 on their behalf an express acknowledgment of independence, they 
 would acquiesce in whatever demands those powers might choose to 
 make. 
 
 In order to confirm them the more in the refusal of what he 
 demanded, he took care to remind them that the United States 
 appeared to him, from their situation and the vigor of their resistance, 
 to have higher claims than ever Holland. Geneva, and Switzerland 
 could have made any pretensions to. Fearing, however, the insuffi- 
 ciency of these means to decide the Americans to yield the desired 
 concessions, he proceeded to suggest, that not only was it necessary 
 to enable the mediator by the moderation of their demands to inspire 
 England with pacific dispositions, but that it was moreover expedient 
 to offer the mediator such advantages as might determine him to 
 make common cause with France and America, in case Great 
 Britain should refuse peace. He extolled the power of the triple 
 alliance that was meditated, and represented it as the guaranty of 
 certain triumph. He set forth that though the arms of France and 
 America were indeed capable of resisting those of the enemy, the 
 junction of the forces of Spain could alone render them preponde- 
 rant, and prevent the catastrophe which might result from a single 
 sinister event ; that hitherto the balance had been equal between the 
 two parlies, but that a new weight was necessary to make it turn in 
 
232 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI, 
 
 favor of the Americans. The French minister closed this declara- 
 tion with a disclosure of the pretensions of his court with respect to 
 the fishery of Newfoundland, and those of Spain relative to the two 
 Floridas, the Mississippi and the western territory which now forms 
 the state of Kentucky. The Congress deliberated upon these com- 
 munications. They considered, on the one hand, that the interven- 
 tion of Spain was very desirable for America ; but on the other, that 
 she held it at too high a rate. They consequently felt the utmost 
 repugnance to subscribe to all the concessions which the courts of 
 Versailles and Madrid appeared disposed to wrest from them. Very 
 warm debates ensued upon these different points. All the members 
 consented to guaranty to Spain the possession of the two Floridas, 
 but all also refused to grant her the exclusive navigation of the Mis- 
 sissippi ; the relinquishment of the western territory was objected to 
 by many, and that of the Newfoundland fishery almost universally, 
 especially on the part of the New England deputies. Beside this 
 extreme diversity of opinions, a powerful motive prevented the Ame- 
 ricans from taking any definitive resolution ; they had penetrated, 
 that such was the eagerness of the Spaniards to come to blows with 
 the English, that in any event, it could not be long; before a rupture 
 must take place between the two nations. In effect, the Congress 
 consumed so much time in answering, in appointing plenipotentiaries 
 and in preparing their instructions, that hostilities were already 
 commenced between these powers, not only in Europe, but also in 
 America. 
 
 By the beginning of August, don Bernard Galvez, governor of 
 Louisiana, for the king of Spain, had undertaken with success an 
 expedition against the British possessions upon the Mississippi. This 
 news, and still much more, the certain intelligence that the same don 
 Galvez had solemnly proclaimed the independence of the United 
 States at New Orleans, caused the Americans to drop at once all 
 further thought of concession. Notwithstanding the hostilities now 
 commenced between Spain and England, the French minister per- 
 sisted in maintaining that England manifested pacific dispositions, and 
 that the cabinets of Versailles and Madrid were more than ever ani- 
 mated by the same sentiments. But enlightened by what passed 
 before their eyes, the Americans instructed their plenipotentiary at 
 the court of France, as also the one destined to treat with that of 
 London, to keep steadily in view that the first object of the defensive 
 war waged by the allies, was to establish the independence of the 
 United States; that consequently the preliminary basis of all negotia- 
 tion with Great Britain must be the acknowledgment of the freedom, 
 independence and sovereignty of the said states, which acknowledg- 
 ment must be secured and guaranteed according to the form and 
 stipulations of the treaty of alliance with his most Christian majesty. 
 As to the right of fishery upon the banks of Newfoundland, the 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 233 
 
 Americans insisted that it should be preserved to them, with the 
 clause that if they were disquieted by England in its exercise, France 
 should consider it as case of alliance. They further enjoined their 
 plenipotentiaries to use all possible exertions to obtain from England 
 the cession of Canada and Nova Scotia, in favor of the United States, 
 observing, however, that the rejection of this proposition should not 
 be an obstacle to the reestablishment of peace. The idea of this last 
 demand had been suggested by the deputies of Massachusetts and 
 other provinces of New England. The plenipotentiaries were author- 
 ised to agree to a suspension of arms during the continuance of the- 
 negotiations, with the reservation, however, that the ally of the 
 United States should likewise consent to it, and that the troops of the 
 enemy should entirely evacuate their territory. Such was the sub- 
 stance of the instructions given to the American plenipotentiaries ; as 
 to the rest, they were to be guided by their own wisdom, the laws of 
 the confederation, and the counsels of the court of France. 
 
 The war being already actually commenced between Spain and 
 England, the chevalier de la Luzerne, who succeeded M. Gerard at 
 Philadelphia, could no longer urge with the Congress, the advantages 
 and necessity of the cooperation of the Spanish force, as a motive for 
 their yielding the above mentioned concessions, But he did not omit 
 to place in the strongest light all the benefits which would result to 
 the United States from connecting themselves with the court of Madrid 
 by treaties of commerce and alliance, which should regulate their 
 common and respective interests, whether present or future. 
 
 ' It is evident,' he said, ' that Spain will display more vigorous efforts 
 against England, when she knows the advantage that is to accrue to 
 herself from a war undertaken chiefly for the utility and interests of 
 the United States. On the other hand, it is no less manifest, how 
 extremely it interests the honor and consolidation of the republic to 
 have its independence formally acknowledged by so great and pow- 
 erful a monarch as his catholic majesty, and to be united to him by 
 treaties of amity and alliance. An alliance,' he added, ' than which 
 nothing could more gratify his most Christian majesty, who, united to 
 the king of Spain by the most sacred ties, and to America by the 
 bonds of the tenderest friendship, could not but desire with ardor to 
 see the most complete and durable harmony established between 
 them.' The French minister expatiated largely upon this subject, 
 adding still other arguments drawn from public law. 
 
 All his efforts were vain. The Congress saw too clearly that if 
 Spain took part in the war, it was neither out of regard for the inte- 
 rests, nor for the independence of America, which in the present 
 state of things was no longer a matter of doubt, but for her own sake, 
 and particularly to reduce the maritime power of England. Accord- 
 ingly, they showed themselves little disposed to make new sacrifices. 
 Wishing, however, to testify their desire to form alliance with the 
 
234 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 king of Spain, they appointed John Jay their minister plenipotentiary 
 to the court of Madrid. His instructions were to endeavor to dis- 
 pose that court to be satisfied with a mere treaty of amity and com- 
 merce with the United States. He was, moreover, directed to declare, 
 that if his catholic majesty entered into the league against Great Britain, 
 the United States would consent that he should secure for himself the 
 possession of the Floridas ; and even, if England gave her consent to 
 it in the treaty of peace, the United States would guaranty him this 
 new acquisition with the condition that they should continue to enjoy 
 the navigation of the Mississippi to the sea. As to the territory situ- 
 ated on the eastern bank of the river, they declared that it could not 
 be renounced. The minister of Congress was likewise to solicit the 
 king of France, as the chief of the alliance, to employ his mediation 
 in order to accelerate the conclusion of the treaties with Spain. He 
 was charged with some other demands at the court of Madrid. But 
 piqued at the refusal of Congress to consent to the stipulations which 
 she had most at heart, Spain not only demonstrated on her part a 
 disposition equally unyielding, but after having declared war against 
 Great Britain, she would neither acknowledge the independence of 
 the United States, nor receive nor send ambassadors. At the same 
 time in which Jay was appointed plenipotentiary to the court of Ma- 
 drid, John Adams was elected minister plenipotentiary to negotiate a 
 treaty of peace and commerce with England. 
 
 Such was, then, the situation of affairs in America. In Europe 
 they took the direction which had been foreseen by all prudent men, 
 and which was desired even by those who pretended a wish to attain 
 an opposite object. Spain had completed her maritime armaments ; 
 she was arrived at the point where she had purposed to throw off the 
 mask. She wanted to take an open part in the war; and, joining her 
 forces with those of France, to aim such rapid blows at the excessive 
 naval power -of England, as should transfer to the Bourbons the 
 sceptre of the sea. She would fain have a plausible pretext to justify 
 her conduct. She accordingly resolved to renew her offers of medi- 
 ation at the court of London, and to urge the British government in 
 such a manner, that it should at length be constrained to declare itself 
 the first. The marquis d' Altnodovar, the Spanish minister at Lon- 
 don, made, in the month of June, the most pressing instances to the 
 British ministry, in order to extort a definitive answer. The moment 
 seemed the better chosen, as it was already known that the count d' 
 Orvilliers had sailed from Brest with the whole French armament, 
 and was standing to the south in order to join, near the isle of Cizar- 
 ga, with the Spanish fleet, which lay, in excellent condition, expect- 
 ing him in those waters. The two allied courts felt yet more confirmed 
 in their resolution, when they saw the English marine in no situation 
 to balance their united forces. Whether from absolute necessity, or 
 from negligence on the part of ministers, it is certain that the arma- 
 

 BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 235 
 
 raents of England at this period were very far inferior to her dangers. 
 She answered, nevertheless, that she could not admit the condition of 
 independence, even with the modifications proposed by Spain. The 
 Spanish minister then departed from London, after having delivered a 
 declaration to lord Wey mouth, secretary of state. This rescript recapi- 
 tulated, beside the rejection of the mediation, several other motives of 
 war, such as insults offered at sea to the Spanish flag, hostile incur- 
 sions upon the lands of the king, instigations to the savages to infest 
 the Spanish subjects of Louisiana, the violation of the rights of his 
 catholic majesty in the bay of Honduras, and other like grievances. 
 The court of London answered by a counter declaration, in which it 
 endeavored, as usual, to destroy all the assertions of that of Madrid. 
 The king of England recalled lord Grantham, his ambassador in 
 Spain. He afterwards issued a proclamation of reprisals on that 
 power, and another regulating the distribution of prizes. At the 
 same time, France, as the preponderant and leading part of the 
 alliance, published a manifesto in which she laid before the eyes of 
 Europe, the motives which had constrained the two allied courts to 
 take up arms. 
 
 These motives, detailed at great length, may be reduced to the 
 following points ; the necessity of avenging injuries received, and the 
 desire, certainly sincere, to put down the tyrannical empire which 
 England had usurped, and pretended to maintain upon the ocean. 
 The king of Spain likewise published different official papers. Two 
 royal cedulas demonstrated to the nation the necessity and justice of 
 the war. They were followed by a very prolix manifesto, which 
 advanced an hundred causes of rupture with Great Britain ; the 
 greater part had been already announced in the declaration of the 
 marquis d' Ahnodovar. It was added in this, and represented as a 
 direct outrage, that at the very time when the British ministers reject- 
 ed the propositions openly made by Spain, as mediatress, they had 
 employed secret agents to make the most alluring offers to the court 
 of France if she would abandon the colonies and conclude a separate 
 peace with England. ' At the same epoch,' said the manifesto, ' the 
 British cabinet had clandestinely despatched another agent to doctor 
 Franklin at Paris. Divers propositions were made to that minister, 
 in order to detach the Americans from France and bring them to an 
 arrangement with Great Britain. The British government offers 
 them conditions not only similar to those it has disdained and rejected 
 when they proceeded from the part of his catholic majesty, but much 
 more favorable still.' The first wrongs specified, that is, the insults 
 on the Spanish flag, the hostile incursions upon the king's territory, 
 and the unjust decrees of courts of admiralty, might have obtained a 
 sufficient reparation, if the two parties had been at that time less 
 animated with enmity towards each other. As to the reproach of 
 duplicity imputed to the British ministers with respect to their con- 
 
~ THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI, 
 
 duct during the discussions of the mediation, if the historian cannot 
 positively applaud them, he will find at least that it is difficult to blame 
 them for it, and still more so to discover in it a sufficient ground of 
 war. In effect, these political wiles, far from being new or extraor- 
 dinary, are but too frequent ; all statesmen, and especially those who 
 employ them, consider such means, if not honorable, at least allow- 
 able for attaining their ends. But, as we have already observed, 
 the primary and capital motive, to which all the others did little more 
 than serve as a veil, was the wish to destroy the maritime superiority 
 of England. The king of Spain even made the avowal of it, herein 
 also imitating the candor of the king of France. He formally de- 
 clared in his manifesto, that in order to obtain a durable peace, it was 
 necessary to set bounds to the immoderate power of England by sea, 
 and to demonstrate the falsity of those principles upon which she 
 founded her usurpation. He concluded with observing, that the 
 other maritime powers, and all the nations of the universe, were 
 interested in the triumph of so equitable a cause. This argument 
 was no doubt as just as it was noble ; but it would have been more 
 honorable still, if the tyrannical domination of England, about which 
 so much noise was then made, had not been, not only peaceably 
 tolerated for a long series of years, but even formally acknowledged. 
 The king of Great Britain replied with another manifesto, wherein 
 no little address was displayed in refuting the assertions of the two 
 kings, his enemies. It closed with the most energetic, but the most 
 ordinary protestations of his regard for humanity. Since these 
 pompous declamations have been brought into use between the go- 
 vernments of civilised nations, is it found that wars are become less 
 frequent, or less destructive ? 
 
 While the two belligerent parties were endeavoring to justify their 
 conduct in the sight of the universe, while each of the kings was 
 protesting that he had not been the first disturber of peace, the fleets 
 of France and Spain presented themselves with formidable parade 
 upon the coasts of Great Britain. They consisted of sixty-six ships 
 of the line, comprehending a Spaniard of one hundred and fourteen 
 guns, the San Trinidad, two Frenchmen of one hundred and ten, 
 and one hundred and four, the Bretagne and the faille de Paris, 
 eight others of eighty, and fifteen o^ seventy-four ; the rest of less 
 force. This immense arrnada was followed by a cloud of frigates, 
 corvettes, cutters, and fire ships. It was commanded in chief by 
 the count d' Orvilliers who mounted the Bretagne ; the vanguard 
 was under the conduct of the count de Guichen, and the rear 
 under the conduct of don Gaston. The vanguard was itself pre- 
 ceded by a light squadron commanded by M. de la Touche 
 Treville, and composed of five swift sailing ships, and all the frigates 
 which were not attached to the first divisions. The object of this squa- 
 dron was to discover and announce whatever should appear at sea. 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 237 
 
 Finally, the armament was followed by another squadron of observa- 
 tion, composed of sixteen ships of the line, at the orders of don Lewis 
 de Cordova. The design of the allies was, according to appear- 
 ances, to make a descent upon that part of the coasts of Great 
 Britain which they should find the most conveniently accessible. 
 Every thing seemed to conspire in their favor ; even the importance 
 of the enterprise, the immensity of their forces, the defenceless con- 
 dition of Ireland, the inferiority of the British marine, the weakness 
 of the regular troops that remained for the defence of England, since 
 the greater part had been sent to America and the West Indies. 
 Beside this fleet, one of the most tremendous which the ocean had 
 ever borne, three hundred transports were prepared at Havre de 
 Grace, St. Malo, and other ports on that coast. All was in move- 
 ment in the northern provinces of France. Upwards of forty thou- 
 sand men lined the coasts of Normandy and Britanny ; many other 
 regiments were on the march to join them from other parts of the 
 kingdom. The king appointed the generals who were to conduct 
 the expedition. The troops who were already assembled upon the 
 coasts that looked towards England, daily exercised themselves in 
 the various rnanreuvres of embarkation and debarkation. Each 
 soldier manifested the most eager desire to set foot on the opposite 
 shore, in order to combat and prostrate an ancient rival. An artille- 
 ry as numerous as well served, was attached to this army ; five 
 thousand grenadiers, the flower of the French troops, had been 
 drawn from all the regiments, to form the vanguard, and strike the 
 first blows. 
 
 England was seasonably apprised of the preparations of France, 
 and the invasion with which she was menaced. The ministers had 
 promptly directed all the measures of defence, which the shortness 
 of time, and the present state of the kingdom admitted ; they had 
 assembled thirty-eight ships of the line, under the command of admi- 
 ral sir Charles Hardy, and had sent him to cruise in the Bay of Bis- 
 cay, in order, if still possible, to prevent the junction of the two 
 hostile fleets. It is difficult to comprehend, that armaments which 
 occupied so vast an extent of sea, and whose light squadrons were 
 reciprocally on the look out, should not have encountered, or come 
 to any knowledge the one of the other. The king of England issued 
 a proclamation, informing his subjects that the enemy threatened to 
 invade the kingdom. The officers in command upon the coasts were 
 ordered to stand on the alert, and at the first appearance of danger to 
 remove the cattle and provisions to a proper distance. The militia 
 exercised continually in arms, and held themselves in readiness to 
 march to the places of debarkation. The royal guards themselves 
 expected every moment the order to march. All minds were 
 strongly excited at the danger of the country ; but amidst the senti- 
 
 VOL. II. 31 
 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI, 
 
 ments of fear and hope which agitated them, the resolution to resist 
 valiamly was genera). 
 
 Meanwhile, the combined fleet which had been detained a long 
 time by calms at the entrance of the channel, all at once made its 
 appearance there, the fifteenth of August ; it presented itself before 
 Plymouth with dread display. The alarm was immediately spread 
 among the inhabitants of the coasts ; the militia flew to their post ; 
 the guards were doubled at the arsenals of Plymouth and Portsmouth. 
 The bank in the latter town was closed ; all commerce was suspend- 
 ed. From all parts of the coast of Cornwall, whole families were 
 seen flying towards the inland countries with their most valuable 
 effects. A new incident added to the universal panic. The Ardent 
 ship of the line, of sixty-four guns, which had sailed from Portsmouth 
 in order to join the fleet of admiral Hardy, fell into the hands of the 
 French in view of Plymouth. During this time the British admiral 
 was standing off and on near the mouth of the channel ; his inferiori- 
 ty, and the position of the enemy, not permitting him to bring succour 
 to his country, amidst the perils that menaced it. But, what men 
 could not do, was operated by chance. At the moment when the 
 success of this great enterprise was going to be decided, all at once 
 there sprung up a violent gale from the northeast, which forced the 
 combined fleet to quit the channel for the open ocean. The gale 
 having abated, it displayed itself anew from the Lands End and the 
 Scilly islands to the chops of the channel, with intent to intercept 
 admiral Hardy, and to prevent his retreat into the ports of England. 
 Nevertheless, he profited with so much ability of a favorable wind, 
 that on the thirty-first of August lie made good his entrance into the 
 channel in full view of the allies, who could not hinder him. His 
 design was, to entice them up to the narrowest part of the strait, 
 where the superiority of numbers would avail them little, and the 
 advantage of position would thus compensate the inequality of forces. 
 The allies followed him as far as Plymouth. Each of the hostile 
 fleets preserved the best order ; the British to avoid being approach- 
 ed till after having arrived at the desirable point, and to be always 
 prepared to fall upon such of the enemy's vessels as should chase 
 them too near ; the French and Spaniards, to keep together, and to 
 gain Plymouth before the enemy. But admiral Hardy having eluded 
 all the projects of his adversary, the count d' Orvilliers decided 
 to retire from the coasts of England, and return to Brest. His retreat 
 was attributed at the time to several causes, such as the conti- 
 nued prevalence of east winds, the want of provisions, the proximity 
 of the equinox, and the great sickness and mortality among his 
 crews, by which some of the ships were totally disabled. 
 
 Such was the issue of an expedition which seemed to portend the 
 downfall of a most powerful empire. If there never had been so 
 great a naval force assembled on the seas, so never were effects less 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 answerable to appearances. Enfeebled by the loss of more than 
 five thousand sailors, victims of the epidemic, the combined fleet 
 could attempt no enterprise during the rest of the campaign. It 
 followed that the weaker gathered those fruits which the stronger 
 might reasonably have expected. Not only the numerous fleets 
 of British merchantmen, loaded with the riches of the two Indies, 
 arrived happily in the ports of Great Britain, but the squadron 
 of Hardy put to sea again, and captured a multitude of French and 
 Spanish vessels. Europe was astonished ; she had not expected 
 that so many preparations and such mighty efforts were to end in this 
 wise. The glory of the British marine thus acquired a new lustre. 
 The allies had, assuredly, shown no want cither of ability or of 
 valor ; but the greater part of men judge of merit by success, and 
 the arms of the enemies of England lost much of their splendor. 
 But whatever might be the causes which prevented the great naval 
 armaments of the belligerent powers from coming to a decisive ac- 
 tion, a few days after their retreat several partial combats were en- 
 gaged, in which the French, the English, and the Americans seemed 
 to vie for the palm of deep and desperate valor. The count d' 
 Orvilliers had sent out from Brest, to observe the movements of the 
 British fleet, the frigate Surveillante, commanded by the chevalier 
 du Couedic, and the cutter Expedition, at the orders of the viscount 
 de Roquefeuil. These two vessels fell in, near the isle of Ouessunt, 
 with the British frigate Quebec, captain Farmer, accompanied also 
 by a sloop called the Rambler. The two parlies immediately en- 
 gaged with fury. The forces, skill and bravery being equal on both 
 sides, the action lasted three hours and a half. The frigates fought 
 so close that several times their yards got entangled. Their artillery 
 had already made a frightful ravage ; the decks were covered with 
 dead and wounded, their masts shivered and shot away ; they could 
 no longer be steered. Nor one nor other, however, seemed disposed 
 to retire or surrender. The French captain received a wound in 
 the head and fainted ; but on recovering sense, he immediately re- 
 sumed the command. Two fresh wounds in the belly could not 
 constrain him to give over, on the contrary he gave orders for board- 
 ing. Captain Farmer displayed, on his part, an invincible courage. 
 To smooth the way for boarding, the French threw a great quantity 
 of grenades aboard the Quebec. Her sails took fire ; the flames 
 spread, and soon caught other parts of the ship. The English 
 exerted themselves to extinguish them, and obstinately refused to 
 strike. The chevalier du Couedic, to avoid the combustion, was 
 forced to think of retiring, which he with difficulty accomplished. 
 His bowsprit got embarrassed with the rigging of the enemy. At 
 length the fire took the magazine of the British frigate, and she 
 blew up with her colors waving to the last. 
 
240 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 The French captain, with an example of humanity that cannot be 
 honored enough, devoted all his cares to saving the greatest possible 
 number of his enemies, who, to escape the flames, threw themselves 
 headlong into the sea. Only forty -three of them could be rescued 
 from the waves, the sole survivors of three hundred men who com- 
 posed the company of the Quebec. Captain Farmer was swallowed 
 up with the wreck of his ship. The French frigate was unable to 
 move ; the cutter Expedition, disengaged herself from the Ram- 
 bler, which she had combated with advantage, in order to succour 
 the Surveillante. She took her in tow, and brought her the follow- 
 ing day into the port of Brest. The French government faithful 
 to its own examples and those of civilised nations, sent free to 
 England the forty-three Englishmen, not willing to retain those 
 prisoners who, in the same day, had escaped the fury of men, can- 
 non, fire and water. The French had forty killed and a hundred 
 wounded. The king promoted the chevalier du Couedic to the 
 rank of captain of ship. But he could not long enjoy the glorious 
 reputation which his valor and humanity had acquired him ; his 
 wounds proved mortal three days after the engagement. He was 
 deeply regretted in France ; his name was pronounced with distinc- 
 tion throughout Europe, but no where with warmer eulogium than 
 in England. 
 
 A few days before, the coasts of Great Britain had witnessed a 
 combat no less sanguinary, and no less honorable for the two parties. 
 Paul Jones, a Scotchman by birth, but engaged in the service of the 
 United States, had established his cruise at first in the seas of Ire- 
 land, and afterwards in those of Scotland, where he was waiting for 
 an opportunity to make some prize, or, according to his practice, to 
 land upon some point of the coast in order to sack the country. 
 His flotilla was composed of the Bonhomme Richard of forty guns, 
 the Alliance of thirty-six, both American ships ; the Pallas, a French 
 frigate of thirty-two, in the pay of Congress, with two other smaller 
 vessels. He fell in with a British merchant fleet, on its return from 
 the Baltic, convoyed by captain Pearson, with the frigate Serapis, 
 of forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, of twenty. 
 
 Pearson had no sooner perceived Jones, than he bore down to 
 engage him, while the merchantmen endeavored to gain the coast. 
 The American flotilla formed to receive him. The two enemies 
 joined battle at about seven in the evening, with great resolution, and 
 the conflict was supported on both sides with equal valor. The 
 Serapis had the advantage of metal and manoeuvre ; to obviate 
 which, Jones took the resolution to fight her closer. He advanced 
 till the two frigates were engaged yard to yard, and their sides so 
 near that the muzzles of their guns came in contact. In this posi- 
 tion they continued to fight from eight in the evening till ten, with an 
 audacity bordering on frenzy. But the artillery of the Americans 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 241 
 
 was no longer capable of producing much effect. The Richard 
 having received several heavy shot between wind and water, could 
 now make no use whatever of her lower batieries, and two or three 
 of her upper guns had burst, to the destruction of those who served 
 them. Jones, at length, had only three left that could be worked, and 
 he employed them against the masts of the hostile frigate. Seeing 
 the little impression made by chain shot, he resorted to another 
 mode of attack. He threw a vast quantity of grenades and fire 
 works on board the British frigate. But his own now admitted the 
 water on all sides, and threatened every moment to go to the bottom. 
 Some of his officers having perceived it, asked him if he would 
 surrender ? * No,' lie answered them in a tremendous tone, and 
 continued to push the grenades. The Serapis was already on fire 
 in several places ; the English could with difficulty, extinguish the 
 flames. Finally, they caught a cartridge, which, in an instant, fired 
 all the others with a horrible explosion. All who stood near the 
 helm were killed, and all the cannon of that part were dismounted. 
 Meanwhile, Pearson was not disheartened ; he ordered his people to 
 board. Paul Jones prepared himself to repulse them. The Eng- 
 lish in jumping on board him found the Americans ready to receive 
 them on the point of their pikes ; they made the best of their way 
 back to their own vessel. But during this interval, the fire had com- 
 municated itself from the Serapis to the Bonhomme Richard, and 
 both were a prey to the flames. No peril could shake these despe- 
 rate men. The night was dark, the combatants could no longer see 
 each other but by the blaze of the conflagration, and through dense 
 volumes of smoke, while the sea was illuminated afar. At this mo- 
 ment, the American frigate Alliance came up. Amidst the confusion 
 she discharged her broadside into the Richard, and killed a part of 
 her remaining defenders. As soon as she discovered her mistake, 
 she fell with augmented fury upon the Serapis. Then the valiant 
 Englishman, seeing a great part of his crew either killed or disabled, 
 his artillery dismounted, his vessel dismasted, and quite enveloped 
 in flames, surrendered. All joined to extinguish the fire, and at 
 length it was accomplished. The efforts made to stop the nume- 
 rous leaks of the Richard proved less fortunate ; she sunk the next 
 morning. Out of three hundred and seventy-five men that were 
 aboard that vessel, three hundred were killed or wounded. The 
 English had but forty-nine killed, and their wounded amounted to no 
 more than sixty-eight. History, perhaps, offers no example of an 
 action more fierce, obstinate and sanguinary. During this time the 
 Pallas had attacked the Countess of Scarborough and had captured 
 her, not however without a stubborn resistance. After a victory so 
 hard earned, so deplorable, Jones wandered, with his shattered ves- 
 sels for some days, at the mercy of the winds in the north sea. He 
 finally made his way good, on the sixth of October, into the waters 
 of the Texel. 
 
242 THE AMERICA^ WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 The events which we have just related are all that claim notice in 
 the latter months of 1779, after the accession of Spain to- the alli- 
 ance formed against England. But at the commencement of the 
 
 O O 
 
 following year, other powers manifested dispositions which menaced 
 that state with new enemies, or at least with exceedingly dubious 
 friends. 
 
 1780. Ever since the commencement of the war, the Dutch had 
 carried on privately a very lucrative commerce ; they conveyed into 
 the ports of France, ship timber as well as all sorts of military, and 
 especially naval, stores. The English were apprised of it, and the 
 British government had often complained of it, in strong terms, to the 
 States-General, not only as contrary to the rules which England was 
 accustomed to observe in time of war, with respect to the commerce 
 of neutrals, and which themselves either tacitly or expressly acknow- 
 ledged, but also as a violation of the treaties of commerce and alli- 
 ance existing between the two nations. The same government had 
 also remonstrated against the protection granted in Holland to French 
 and American privateers. The States-General answered only by 
 disavowal, or evasive explanations. But about the beginning of Janu- 
 ary intelligence was received in England, that a numerous convoy of 
 Dutch vessels, laden with naval stores for account of France, was 
 already at sen, and that in order to escape the vigilance of the Bri- 
 tish cruisers, this fleet had placed itself under the protection of the 
 count de Byland, who, with a squadron of ships of the line and fri- 
 gates, convoyed another merchant fleet bound for the Mediterranean. 
 The British admiralty despatched captain Fielding, with a sufficient 
 number of ships, to examine the convoy, and to seize any vessels 
 containing contraband articles. The British squadron having met 
 that of Holland, captain Fielding requested permission to visit the 
 merchant ships. It was refused him. This notwithstanding, he 
 despatched his boats for that purpose, which were fired at, and pre- 
 vented from executing their orders by the Dutch. Upon this, the 
 Englishman fired a shot ahead of the Dutch admiral ; it was answer- 
 ed by a broadside ; and count Byland, having received Fielding's in 
 return, and being in no condition of force to pursue the contest fur- 
 ther, then struck his colors. Most of the Dutch vessels that were 
 in the predicament which occasioned the contest, had already, by 
 pushing close to the shore, escaped the danger, and proceeded with- 
 out interruption to the French ports. The others were seized. The 
 Englishman then informed the Dutch admiral that he was at liberty 
 to hoist his colors and prosecute his voyage. He hoisted his colors 
 indeed ; but he refused to separate from any part of his convoy ; and 
 lie accordingly, with the whole of the fleet, which was seized, accom- 
 panied the British squadron to Spithead. The ships and their car- 
 goes were confiscated as contraband. This intelligence excited a 
 violent clamcr in- Holland. The Dutch were at this time divided in 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 243 
 
 two parties, one of which held for France, and the other for England. 
 All those who belonged to the first were exceedingly indignant ; they 
 exclaimed that no consideration should induce them to enduro 
 patiently so daring an outrage. Even the partisans of the English 
 could not venture to justify their conduct. It was easy to foresee 
 that this incident was about to produce a rupture. Far from fear- 
 ing, the British government wished it ; it preferred an open war to 
 the clandestine assistance which Holland was lending to France. It 
 had, besides, already fixed a hankering eye upon the Dutch riches, 
 which, in the security of peace, were spread over the seas, or were 
 amassed, without defence, in distant islands. Moreover, the States- 
 General had made no preparation for war, and it was to be supposed 
 that they could not very suddenly enter the field. 
 
 This event, the instigations of France, the disposition to profit of 
 the critical situation of Great Britain, at that time assailed by so many 
 powerful ene.nies, and especially the desire to liberate the commerce 
 of neutrals from British vexations, gave origin to that league of the 
 states of the north, known by the name of the Armed Neutrality. It 
 had, if not for author, at least for chief, the empress of Russia, Ca- 
 tharine II. who was immediately joined by the kings of Sweden and 
 Denmark. The bases of this confederacy were, that neutral vessels 
 might freely navigate from one port to another, even upon the coasts 
 of belligerent powers ; that all effects appertaining to one of these 
 powers, become free so soon as they are on hoard a neutral vessel, 
 except such articles as by a prior treaty should have been declared 
 contraband ; that to determine what articles were to be considered 
 contraband, the empress of Russia referred to the tenth and eleventh 
 articles of her treaty with Great Britain, the obligations of which were 
 to be extended to all the other belligerent powers ; that to specify 
 what ports were to be deemed blockaded, it was agreed that those 
 only should be accounted as such before which there should be sta- 
 tioned a sufficient number of enemy ships to render their entrance 
 perilous ; finally, that the preceding principles should serve as rules 
 in judicial proceedings, and in sentences to be pronounced respecting 
 the legality of prizes. To command respect for this confederation, 
 the three allied courts agreed, that each of them should keep a part 
 of its naval force equipped, and stationed so as to form an uninter- 
 rupted chain of ships prepared to protect their common trade, and to 
 afford each other mutual support and succour. They also agreed, 
 that when any vessel whatever should have shown by its papers that 
 it was not carrier of any contraband article, it might place itself 
 under the escort of ships of war, which should prevent its being stop- 
 ped, or diverted from its destination. This article, which ascribed to 
 the state interested, or to its qjjlies, the right of judging of the nature 
 of cargoes with respect to contraband, appeared to exclude the right 
 of visit, so strenuously claimed by England ; against whom, notwith- 
 
244 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 standing the general terms that were employed, it was manifest that 
 all this display of maritime force was directed. The allies accompa- 
 nied the foregoing stipulations with professions of the most generous 
 sentiments ; they declared that they were armed for the defence of 
 the rights of nature and of nations ; for the liberty of the human 
 race, and for the prosperity of Europe in particular. In effect, the 
 European nations, with the exception of the English, manifested an 
 extreme satisfaction with this new plan of the northern powers; the 
 wisdom and magnanimity of Catharine II. became the object of uni- 
 versal encomium; so universal was the hatred which" the maritime 
 vexations of England had excited against that power ! The articles 
 of the armed neutrality were communicated to all the European state?, 
 especially to France, Spain, Holland, England; and Portugal, with 
 invitation to accede to them. The courts dr Versailles and Madrid, 
 eager to profit of the circumstance to sow the seeds of division be- 
 tween Great Britain and neutrals, hastened to address their felicita- 
 tions to the empress of Russia, arid to answer that they were ready 
 not only to join the confederacy, but that they had long before given 
 their admirals and sea officers such instructfoti&jHfcit the principles of 
 the armed neutrality were already in force as to them. They added, 
 that equity had directed them to those very measures which were now 
 proclaimed by the confederate powers of the north. The court of 
 Lisbon, accustomed to an excessive condescension towards Eng- 
 land, declined the alliance. The States-General of Holland delibe- 
 rated upon the course they had to pursue. The British ministers, 
 either hoping or fearing what was to happen, or in order to constrain 
 them to declare themselves, had already required them to furnish to 
 England the subsidies stipulated by the treaty of alliance. The 
 Dutch alleged the inevitable tardiness of their deliberations ; the truth 
 was, they were* determined to give nothing. The cabinet of St. 
 James then took a resolution calculated to compel them to a deci- 
 sion, and to prevent their joining the northern confederacy. It gave 
 them to understand, that, notwithstanding the number and power of 
 its enemies, it was resolved to proceed to the last extremities with 
 the Dutch nation, unless it adhered to the ancient system of neutral- 
 ity. Accordingly the king of Great Britain issued a proclamation, 
 purporting that the nonperformance of the States-General with re- 
 spect to the succout's stipulated by the treaty of alliance, was to be 
 considered as a violation of that treaty ; that they had thereby fallen 
 from those privileges which they derived only from the alliance ; and 
 that the subjects of the United Provinces were, therefore, hencefor- 
 ward to be considered upon the same footing with those of other 
 neutral states not allied. By this step the British king, even before 
 his demand had been expressly rejected, freed himself from the obli- 
 gations of the treaty of alliance. He hoped by this vigorous proced- 
 ure, so to intimidate the Dutch, that they would decline entering into 
 
I 
 BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 245 
 
 the almost universal combination of Europe against the maritime pre- 
 tensions of England. His expectations were much disappointed, 
 The French party possessed a decided preponderance in the repub- 
 lic, particularly in the most influential provinces, such as Holland and 
 West Friesland. The impression also produced by the insult offered 
 Byland, was too recent ; hence, after long and frequent debates, it 
 was voted, with unanimity of provinces, that the subsidies to England 
 should not be paid ; moreover, that the escort of ships of war should 
 be given to the merchantmen of the republic, with the exception only 
 of those which according to the stipulations of former treaties might 
 be deemed contraband. It was further decreed, that the invitation 
 of the empress of Russia should be. accepted with gratitude, and that 
 a negotiation for that purpose should be opened with prince Gallitzin, 
 her majesty's envoy extraordinary to the States-General. 
 
 Already surrounded with enemies, and seeing Russia waver, whose 
 power and alliance demanded a serious attention, England, without 
 consenting to admit the principles of the armed neutrality, answered 
 by vague generalities, which manifested, at least, a desire to preserve 
 peace. Meanwhile, amidst the open or covert perils against which 
 she had to defend herself, she not only betrayed no symptoms of dis- 
 couragement, but even discovered a determination to prosecute the 
 war with vigor upon the American continent. The only change 
 which took place in her plans, as we have already seen, was to leave 
 merely sufficient garrisons in New York, and to direct all her efforts 
 against the southern provinces. Accordingly, to enable general Clin- 
 ton to attack the Carolinas, admiral Arbuthnot had set sail for Ame- 
 rica, in the month of May, with a fleet of ships of war and upwards 
 of four hundred transports. But soon after his departure from the 
 coasts of England, he received intelligence that the French, under 
 the conduct of the Prince of Nassau, had attacked the isle of Jersey, 
 situated near the coasts of Normandy. Thinking it better to conform 
 to the empire of circumstances, than to his instructions, he sent back 
 his convoy into Torbay, and repaired with his squadron to the relief 
 of Jersey. The attempt of the French miscarried. The admiral 
 resumed his original route. But such were the obstacles that ensued 
 this retardment that he lost much time in getting out of the channel, 
 and gaining sea room to shape his course for America ; so that it was 
 late in August before he arrived at New York. The English at first, 
 however, made no movement, because they were inhibited by the 
 count d' Estaing, at that time engaged in the siege of Savannah. 
 Finally, on intelligence of the issue of that enterprise, and the de- 
 parture of the French admiral from the coasts of America, Clinton 
 had embarked with seven thousand men, under convoy of Arbuthnot, 
 upon the expedition of South Carolina. 
 
 England intended not only to carry on the war with energy upon 
 the American continent, and to defend her possessions in the West 
 VOL. ii. 32 
 
246 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 Indies, but she even projected conquests in this quarter, if the occa- 
 sion should present itself.. The ministers accordingly resolved to 
 send to those islands a considerable reenforcement both of ships and 
 troops, under the conduct of admiral Rodney, a man in whom the 
 government, and even the whole British nation, had reposed extreme 
 confidence. It appeared the more essential to despatch these suc- 
 cours to the West Indies, as the French were preparing on theitf 
 part to pass thither a formidable reenforcement under the count de 
 Guichen. But before admiral Rodney had put to sea, it was deem- 
 ed expedient to employ him in a more important expedition. Spain 
 had commenced hostilities by laying cfose siege and blockade to the 
 fortress of Gibraltar. The blockade was confined to admiral don 
 Burcelo, a seaman of great vigilance. He exerted his utmost dili- 
 gence to prevent any sort of supplies from finding their way into the 
 phre. The garrison already began to suffer severely from scarcity. 
 They could not even hope to receive provision from the neighboring 
 coasts, by means of light boats which might have eluded the watch- 
 fulness of the Spaniards ; for the inhabitants of the Barbi j shores, 
 and especially the emperor of Morocco, had declared themselves for 
 Spain, as soon as they ascertained the inferiority of the English in 
 the Mediterranean. There remained, therefore, no other way of 
 revictualiing the place but from England itself; and the convoy 
 destined for this purpose required a formidable escort. Rodney 
 was charged with this enterprise. He departed from the British 
 coasts in the first days of the year, with a fleet of twenty-one sail of 
 the line, and a considerable number of provision vessels. Fortune 
 favored his first efforts. He had only been a few days at sea, when 
 he fell in with a convoy of fifteen Spanish merchantmen, bound from 
 St. Sebastian to Cadiz, under the guard of the Guipuscoa, a new 
 ship of sixty-four guns, of four frigates from thirty-two to twenty-six, 
 and of two smaller vessels. Rodney gave chase, and took the whole 
 fleet. The capture was the more fortunate, as the greater part of 
 the vessels were loaded with wheat, flour and other sorts of provi- 
 sion ; and the remainder with bale goods and naval stores. The 
 former he conveyed to Gibraltar, and the latter he sent back to 
 England, where the naval stores were much wanted. But this was 
 only the prelude to greater and more brilliant success. On the six- 
 teenth of January, admiral Rodney fell in, off Cape St. Vincent, 
 with a Spanish squadron of eleven, ships of the line, under the com- 
 mand of don Juan Langara. The Spanish admiral, if he had 
 chosen, might have avoided the encounter of a force so prodigiously 
 superior to his own. But the moment he descried the enemy's sails 
 from his mast head, instead of sending out his frigates to reconnoitre, 
 and falling back upon a port, he immediately formed his ships in 
 order of battle. When, on the near approach of the English, he 
 became certain of their superiority, he endeavored to withdraw, but 
 

 
 BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 247 
 
 it was already too late. Admiral Rodney had given the signal for a 
 general chase, with orders to engage as the ships came up in rota- 
 tion ; taking at the same time the lee gage, to prevent the enemy's 
 retreat into their own ports. The English ships so much outsailed 
 the Spanish, that by four in the evening the headmost had come up 
 with them, and began to engage ; their fire was returned with great 
 spirit and resolution by the Spaniards. The night was dark, tem- 
 pestuous and dismal ; the proximity of the shoals of St. Lucar ren- 
 dered the scene more terrible. Early in the action the Spanish ship 
 San Domingo, of seventy guns and six hundred men. blew up, and 
 all on board perished. The action and pursuit continued until two 
 in the morning. The Spanish admiral's ship, the Phoenix, of eighty 
 guns, with three others of seventy, were taken and carried safely 
 into Gibraltar. The San Eugenio and San Julian, had also surren- 
 dered to the English, who had shifted their officers, and put a 
 certain number of British seamen on board each of them. But the 
 sea being rough, the night tempestuous, and the breakers very near, 
 the English officers, having no pilots that knew the Spanish coast, 
 placed themselves at the discretion of their prisoners, who, from 
 vanquished becoming victors, carried the two ships into the port of 
 Cadiz. Two other ships of the line and two frigates, all greatly 
 damaged, escaped into the same port. The following day the Eng- 
 lish had great difficulty in extricating their fleet from the shoals, 
 and getting back into deep water. Don Juan de Langara had been 
 wounded severely. 
 
 Admiral Rodney hastened to profit of his victory ; he entered 
 Gibraltar. In a short time he deposited there all the supplies he had 
 brought ; provision became so abundant that the fortress found itself 
 in a situation to endure a long siege without further recruit. After 
 having accomplished with equal utility to his country and glory to 
 himself the orders of his court, Rodney proceeded, about the middle 
 of February, with a part of his force, for the West Indies. He left 
 the rest of his fleet with the Spanish prizes, on their way to England, 
 under the conduct of rear-admiral Digby. Fortune, who had shown 
 herself so propitious to the English, seemed disposed to serve them 
 still on their return. They perceived at a great distance a squadron, 
 consisting of several French ships of different sizes. It was a con- 
 voy bound to the Isle of France, under the protection of the Proteus 
 and Ajax, both of sixty-four guns, and of the frigate la Charmante. 
 The viscount du Chilleau commanded the whole. As soon as he 
 discovered the English, he made a signal to the Ajax and the bulk 
 of the convoy to make their escape by the rear. As to himself, he 
 rallied about the Proteus, the frigate and some smaller vessels, in 
 order to take up the attention of the enemy. His stratagem suc- 
 ceeded. Rear-admiral Digby gave no heed to the Ajax, and the 
 greater part of the convoy which retired under her escort ; he was 
 
248 THE AMEKICAN WAR. BOOK XI. 
 
 fully occupied in pursuit of the Proteus, which sailed with such 
 celerity that she had little to fear ; but unluckily, she carried away 
 some of her spars, which so retarded her progress that she fell into 
 the hands of the English, together with three transports. Such was 
 the. success of Rodney's expedition to Gibraltar. It was celebrated 
 in England by unusual rejoicings, as well on account of its real im- 
 portance, as because it was the first good news which had arrived 
 for so long a time. The parliament voted public thanks to George 
 Rodney. 
 
 Thus England, while she defended herself, on the one hand, 
 against her enemies in Europe, prepared herself, on the other, to 
 attack at once the republicans upon the American continent, and the . 
 French and Spaniards in the West Indies. Her resolution in the 
 midst of so many perils, and such powerful foes, became the object 
 of universal admiration. Her constancy was compared to that of 
 Lewis XIV. who nobly faced the coalition of all Europe against him. 
 She was declared to imitate the still more recent example of Frede- 
 ric the Great, who had withstood all the efforts of the most formida- 
 ble confederacy. Even those who had the most openly blamed the 
 conduct of the British government towards its colonies, were now 
 the very men who most extolled her present magnanimity. But 
 thinking men better appreciated the truth ; if they commended the 
 firmness of the British monarch, they neither compared him to Lewis 
 XIV. nor yet to Frederic the Great. They reflected that England, 
 being an island, cannot without extreme difficulty be attacked in its 
 interior parts, and in the very elements of its force ; and that naval 
 battles are never so decisive as those of land. It cannot be denied, 
 however, that the ardor and intrepidity of the British nation seemed 
 to increase with all the dangers of its position. The most formidable 
 antagonists of the ministry suspended their attacks, in order to devote 
 themselves exclusively to the necessities of the state. ' Let us first 
 triumph abroad ;' they exclaimed, * we will then settle this contro- 
 versy between ourselves.' In the country, as in the most opulent 
 cities, a multitude of private individuals engaged to advance large 
 sums in order to levy and organise troops. Nor private subjects 
 only, but political and commercial bodies vied in promptness to offer 
 the state their voluntary contributions. The East India Company 
 presented the government with three ships of seventy-four guns, and 
 a sum sufficient to raise and maintain six thousand seamen. Extra- 
 ordinary bounties were given to those who presented themselves to 
 serve the king, by sea or land. This lure, together with the love 
 of country and hatred for the French and Spaniards, drew sailors to 
 the ships in multitude ; upon the whole surface of the kingdom the 
 militia were seen forming themselves to the exercise of arms. In 
 a word, all Great Britain was in motion to combat the Bourbons. 
 
BOOK XI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 249 
 
 The people of Europe who had thought at first that she would 
 find it difficult to resist the formidable forces which that House 
 had marshalled for her destruction, began to believe that so much 
 courage and firmness might be crowned with victory, or at least 
 render the struggle still for a long time dubious, and consistent with 
 her safety. 
 
 END OF BOOK ELEVENTH. 
 
 
 
250 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII 
 
 BOOK TWELFTH. 
 
 1780. I HAVE now to describe an obstinate war, remarkable for 
 its numerous encounters and variety of success, and one which, per- 
 haps, more than any other, has demonstrated how uncertain is the fate 
 of arms, how inconstant the favor of fortune, and with what perti- 
 nacity the human mind can arm itself in pursuit of that whereon it has 
 fixed its desires. Victory often produced the effects of defeat, and 
 defeat those of victory ; the victors frequently became the vanquished, 
 the vanquished the victors. In little actions was exhibited great 
 valor ; and the prosperous or unfortunate efforts of a handful of 
 combatants had sometimes more important consequences than in 
 Europe attend those terrible battles, where valiant and powerful 
 nations rush to the shock of arms. The Carolinas saw no cessation 
 of this fierce conflict, till by numberless reverses the cause of Great 
 Britain began to be considered altogether hopeless upon the Ameri- 
 can continent. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, as we have related in the preceding book, had 
 departed from the state of New York for the expedition of the Caro- 
 linas; the first object of it was the conquest of Charleston, the 
 reduction of which, it was calculated, would involve that of the entire 
 province. He took with him seven to eight thousand men, English, 
 Hessians and loyalists. Among them was found a corps of excellent 
 cavalry, a species of force very essential to the success of operations 
 in open and flat countries. Clinton had likewise taken care to fill 
 his transports with an immense quantity of military stores and provi- 
 sion. The English moved towards their object, animated with ex- 
 treme ardor and confidence of victory. The winds and sea were at 
 first highly favorable ; but there afterwards arose a most violent 
 tempest, which dispersed the whole fleet, and greatly damaged the 
 most of the vessels. Some arrived about the last of January at 
 Tybee, in Georgia ; others were intercepted by the Americans. 
 One transport foundered with all its lading ; the horses, both artillery 
 and troop, that were on board, nearly all perished. These losses, 
 distressing at any time, were grievous and next to irreparable, under 
 the present circumstances. They moreover, so retarded the enter- 
 prise of Charleston, that the Americans had time to put that place in 
 a state of defence. 
 
 All the dispersed corps at length reassembled in Georgia. The 
 victorious troops of Savannah received those of Clinton with a high 
 flush of spirits ; all exerted themselves with emulation to remedy the 
 disasters sustained in the passage. When all their preparations were 
 completed, that is, on the tenth- of February, they set sail in the 
 transports under convoy of some ships of war. Favored by the 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 winds they soon reached the mouth of North Edisto, a river which 
 empties itself into the sea at a short distance from the Isle of St. 
 John, upon the coast of South Carolina. After having reconnoitred 
 the places and passed the bar, the British army landed, and took 
 possession first of the above mentioned island, and next, that of 
 James, which stretches to the south of Charleston harbor. It 
 afterwards, by throwing a bridge over Wappoo Cut, extended its 
 posts on the main land to the banks of Ashley river, which washes 
 the walls of Charleston. From Wappo Cut it was intended to pass 
 the troops in gallies and flat boats to the left bank of the Ashley, upon 
 which Charleston stands. But the delays occasioned by the events 
 of the passage having given the Americans time to erect new fortifi- 
 cations and to reenforce the garrison, Clinton determined not to 
 undertake the siege till after having drawn a reenforcement from 
 general Prevost, stationed at Savannah, whom he accordingly di- 
 rected to send him twelve hundred men, including the greatest num- 
 ber of cavalry possible. He had likewise written to Kynphausen, 
 who, after his departure commanded in the state of New York, to 
 forward him with all expedition, reenforcements and munitions. A 
 few days after, general Patterson joined him with the troops from 
 Georgia, after having endured excessive fatigues, and surmounted 
 the numerous obstacles thrown in his wny not only by swoln rivers 
 and miry roads, but also by the enemy, whose light detachments 
 had hung on his left flank from Savannah to far within the frontiers 
 of Carolina. Meanwhile, Clinton intrenched himself upon the banks 
 of the Ashley and of the adjacent arms of the sea, in order to secure 
 his communications with the fleet. During this interval colonel 
 Tarleton, of whom there will be frequent mention in the course of 
 this history, an officer of cavalry, as skilful as enterprising, had re- 
 paired to the fertile island of Port Royal, where employing money 
 with the disaffected and force with the patriots, he spared no exertions 
 for the acquisition of horses to replace those lost in the passage. If 
 he could not collect as many as the exigencies of the service de- 
 manded, yet the success much surpassed his expectations. Thus, 
 about the last of March, every thing was in preparation for com- 
 mencing the siege of Charleston ; the British army was separated 
 from the place only by the waters of the river Ashley. 
 
 On the other hand, the Americans had omitted none of those pre- 
 parations, whether civil or military, which they deemed the most 
 suitable for a vigorous defence ; although, in truth, it had not been 
 in their power to effect all that was requisite to meet the danger of 
 the emergency. The paper currency was so out of credit with the 
 inhabitants of South Carolina, that it was excessively difficult to pur- 
 chase with it the necessaries of war. The want of soldiers was felt 
 with equal severity. The militia, impatient to enjoy repose after the 
 painful operations of Georgia, during the preceding winter, had dis- 
 banded and retired to their habitations. 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 Another motive also discourngcd them from marching to the 
 succour of Charleston ; and that was, the fear of the smallpox, 
 which it was known prevailed in that city. Moreover, the six 
 regiments of the line, belonging to the provinces were so enfeebled 
 by desertions, diseases, battle, and the expiration of engagements, 
 that all together did not amount to a thousand soldiers. It should 
 be added, that many of the Carolinians were induced to profit of the 
 amnesty offered by general Prevost, at Savannah, some through loy- 
 alty towards the king, others to preserve their effects from pillage. 
 In effect, the English put to sack and devastation, without lenity, the 
 property of all those who continued to serve under the banners of 
 Congress ; and, besides, the victory of Savannah had penetrated 
 minds with a great terror of the British arms. The major part were 
 reluctant to immure themselves within a city which they believed 
 little capable of resisting the assaults of so audacious an enemy. 
 
 Such was the penury of means to which South Carolina was 
 reduced ; the Congress displayed not much more energy. They 
 had been seasonably apprised of the designs of the English, and 
 would fain have averted the storm they saw going to burst upon 
 South Carolina. But, on the one hand, the weakness of the army 
 of Washington, which a great number of his soldiers had abandoned 
 at the termination of their engagement; on the other, the force of 
 the garrisons which Clinton had left in the state of New York, ren- 
 dered it unadvisable to detach any effective succour to Charleston. 
 Nevertheless, to support by words those whom they were unable to 
 assist by deeds, or under the persuasion that the people, reanimated 
 at the peril which menaced South Carolina, would voluntarily fly to 
 arms, the Congress wrote to the chiefs of that province, to arm them- 
 selves with constancy, for it was intended to send them a reenforce- 
 ment of nine thousand men. But the fact proved that they could 
 only send fifteen hundred, of the regular troops of North Carolina 
 and Virginia. The Congress despatched, besides, two frigates, a 
 corvette, and some smaller vessels, to maintain, if possible, a com- 
 munication by sea with the besieged city. The Carolinians were 
 also exhorted to arm their slaves ; a scheme, however, which was 
 not put ig execution, whether because of the universal repugnance 
 that was felt to such a measure, or because there was not at hand a 
 sufficiency of arms for the purpose. Notwithstanding this coldness 
 of the citizens, the magistrates of Charleston, encouraged by the 
 presence and words of general Lincoln, who directed all that con- 
 cerned the military part, held a general council, in which it was 
 resolved to defend the city to the last extremity. Yet more, know- 
 ing how important in the operations of war, and especially in all 
 cases of emergency, is the unity of measures and power, they con- 
 ferred a sort of dictature on John Rutledge, their governor, giving him 
 authority to do whatever he should think necessary to the safety of 
 

 BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 the republic. They withheld, however, the power over the fife of 
 citizens ; as he could punish none with death without a legal trial. 
 Vested with such an authority, Rutledge called out the militia ; but 
 few displayed their colors. He then issued a proclamation, sum- 
 moning all persons inscribed on the military rolls, or having property 
 in the city, to muster and join the garrison ; their disobedience for- 
 feited their estates. At so rigorous an order, some made their 
 appearance ; but still the number of those who took arms was far 
 from answering the wishes of the governor. The inhabitants of the 
 country seemed plunged in a kind of stupor ; they wished, before 
 they took their side, to see what would be the fate of events ; in 
 brief, the garrison of so considerable a city scarcely amounted to five 
 thousand men, inclusive of regulars, militia and seamen. The first, 
 who were principally relied on for the defence of the place, were to 
 the number of about two thousand. Meanwhile, the fortifications 
 were pushed with indefatigable industry. They consisted, on the 
 land side, in a chain of redoubts, lines and batteries, extending 
 from one river to the other, and covered with an artillery of eighty 
 cannon and mortars. In the front of either flank, the works were 
 covered by swamps, originating from the opposite rivers, and tending 
 towards the centre ; through which they were connected by a canal 
 passing from one to the other. Between these outward impediments 
 and the works were two strong rows of abattis, the trees "being buried 
 slanting in the earth, so that their heads facing outwards, formed a 
 .kind of fraise work against the assailants ; and these were further 
 secured by a ditch double picketted. In the centre, where the natu- 
 ral defences were unequal to those on the flanks, the Americans had 
 constructed a horn work of masonry, as well to remedy that defect, 
 as to cover the principal gate. Such were the fortifications which, 
 Stretching across the neck behind the city, and from the Ashley river 
 to Cooper's river, defended it on the part of the land. But on the 
 two sides where it is washed by these rivers, the Americans had 
 contented themselves with erecting numerous batteries, constructed, 
 the better to resist shot, of earth mingled with palmetto wood. All 
 parts of the shore, where it was possible to land, had been secured 
 by strong palisades. To support the defences on shore, the Ameri- 
 cans had a considerable marine force in the harbor, consisting in 
 eight of their own frigates, with one French frigate, besides several 
 smaller vessels, principally gallies. These were judiciously moored 
 at a narrow pass, between Sullivan's island and the middle ground ; 
 and if they had continued in this position, they might have severely 
 annoyed the British squadron, on its approach to Fort Moultrie, 
 situated on Sullivan's island, so much celebrated for the obstinate 
 and successful defence which it made agaList the attack of the Eng- 
 lish in 1776. But when admiral Arbuthnot advanced with his ships 
 to Charleston bar, the American flotilla, abandoning its station, and 
 VOL. ir. 33 
 
254 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 leaving Fort Moullrie to its own fortune, retired to Charleston ; where 
 most of the ships, with a number of merchant vessels, being fitted 
 with chevaux-de-frize on their decks, were sunk to obstruct the 
 channel of Cooper's river, where it flows between the left part of the 
 town and a low sand bank called Shute's Folly. Thus, with the 
 exception o'f Fort Moultrie, there remained nothing to prevent the 
 British fleet from entering the harbor, to cooperate with the land 
 forces. In this manner the inhabitants prepared to defend them- 
 selves valiantly against the attack of the enemy ; but they still found- 
 ed their hope on the succours of their neighbors of North Carolina 
 and Virginia. 
 
 Lincoln and'Rutledge exhibited a rivalship of zeal and talent in 
 their efforts to impart fresh confidence to the besieged, and new 
 strength to the works. They were admirably seconded by two 
 French engineers, de Laumoy and de Cambray. The troops of 
 the line were charged with the defence of the intrenchments, as the 
 post of peril, and the militia had the guard of the banks of the 
 river. 
 
 As soon as Clinton had completed all his preparations, the twenty- 
 ninth of March, having left a detachment to guard his magazines at 
 Wappoo Cut, he passed the Ashley river without opposition, twelve 
 miles above Charleston. Immediately after his debarkation he sent 
 a body of infantry and cavalry to occupy the great road and scour 
 the country to within cannon-shot from the place. The army then 
 followed and took post across the isthmus behind the city at the 
 distance of a mile and a half. From this moment, the garrison lost 
 all communication with the land, the enemy being masters of both 
 sides of the Ashley, there remained no way open for succours of 
 men and provision but across the Cooper on their left. The royal- 
 ists had soon transported to their camp, through the assistance of 
 captain Elphinstone with his boats and armed gallies, all the heavy 
 artillery, stores, and baggage. On the night of the first of April, 
 they broke ground within eight hundred yards of the American 
 works ; and in a week their guns were mounted in battery. 
 
 In the meantime, admiral Arbuthnot had made his dispositions for 
 passing the bar in order to gain the entrance of Charleston harbor. 
 The frigates, as drawing less water, passed without any difficulty ; 
 but the ships of the line could not be got over till after having been 
 lightened of their artillery, munitions, and even their water; the 
 whole squadron passed on the twentieth of March, Arbuthnot carne 
 to anchor at Five Fathom Hole ; he had still however to surmount, 
 before he could take an active part in the siege of Charleston, the 
 obstacle of Fort Moultrie, occupied by colonel Pinckney with a 
 respectable force. The English admiral profiting of a south wind 
 and flood tide, weighed anchor on the ninth of April, and passing it 
 under a press of sail, took his station within cannon-shot from the 
 
BOOK XTI. THE AMERICAN WAR. 255 
 
 city near James Island. Colonel Pinckney had opened all his artil- 
 lery upon the British vessels, at the moment of their passage ; but 
 such was the rapidity of their way, that it did them little damage. 
 The dead and wounded were less than thirty ; a solitary transport 
 was abandoned and burned. 
 
 In this state of things, the batteries ready to be opened, and the 
 place already invested by sea and land ; Clinton and Arbuthnot sent 
 a joint summons to general Lincoln ; holding out the fatal conse- 
 quences of a cannonade and storm, and staling the present as the 
 only favorable opportunity for preserving the lives and property of the 
 inhabitants. The American answered spiritedly, that he was deter- 
 mined to defend himself. The English immediately commenced 
 their fire ; the place answered it briskly. But the besiegers had the 
 advantage of a more numerous artillery, particularly in mortars, which 
 made great ravages. The pioneers and miners, under the direction of 
 the same MoncriefFe who had gained so much honor in the defence 
 of Savannah, pushed forward the works with extreme rapidity. The 
 second parallel was already completed and furnished with its batter- 
 ies ; every thing promised the English an approaching victory ; but 
 the Americans had assembled a corps on the upper part of Cooper 
 river, at a place called Monk's Corner. They were under the con- 
 duct of general Huger ; and, from that position they could invest 
 the besiegers on their rear, revictual Charleston, and in case of 
 extremity, enable the garrison to evacuate the place, and retreat with 
 safety into the country. 
 
 Besides, however feeble was this corps, it might serve as an incen- 
 tive and rallying point for continual accessions. North Carolina had 
 already despatched to their camp a great quantity of arms, stores 
 and baggage. Under these considerations, general Clinton detached 
 fourteen hundred men, under lieutenant-colonel Webster, to strike 
 at this body of republicans before it should become more considera- 
 ble, to break in upon the remaining communications of the besieged, 
 and to seize the principal passes of the country. Colonel Webster 
 was accompanied by Tarleton and Ferguson, both partisans of dis- 
 tinguished gallantry. The Americans had established their principal 
 cantonments on the left side of the Cooper, and being masters of 
 Biggins Bridge, on that river, they had passed all their cavalry to 
 the right bank. This position was strong, the bridge being accessi- 
 ble only by a causeway through an impracticable morass ; but they 
 were off their guard, having neglected to post videttes, and to recon- 
 noitre the environs. Moreover, their dispositions were defective ; 
 they had placed the cavalry in front, and the infantry in rear. The 
 English arrived unexpectedly, at three in the morning ; their attack 
 was impetuous, it routed the Americans in a Jew instants ; all 
 perished save those who sought safety by flight. General Huger, 
 and the colonels Washington and Jamieson, threw themselves into 
 
.256 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 the morass, and were fortunate enough to escape by favor of the 
 darkness. Four hundred horses, a prize of high value, fell into the 
 hands of the victors, with many carriages loaded with arms, clothing ' 
 and stores. The royalists took possession of the bridge, and, soon 
 after, secured another passage lower down, and overrun the country 
 on the left side of the Driver, particularly the district of St. Thomas. 
 In this manner the besieged were deprived also of the Cooper river, 
 and Charleston found itself completely enclosed. The garrison was 
 not judged sufficiently strong to warrant any opposition to this enter- 
 prise. The Americans attempted only to fortify a point on the left 
 bank, called Point Lamprey ; but Webster's corps being consider- 
 ably reenforced, and lord Cornwallis having taken the command on 
 that side of the river, they found themselves constrained to abandon 
 this last post. The British foraged without obstacle, prevented the 
 assembling of the militia, and cut off every species of succour. A 
 few days after, Tarleton having, advanced with incredible celerity 
 upon the banks of the Santee river, attacked and routed another 
 body of republican cavalry, commanded by colonel Buford ; arms, 
 horses, munitions, every thing fell into the power of the victor. Ad- 
 verse fortune continued to pursue the republicans. Admiral Arbuth- 
 not landed on Sullivan's Island a body of seamen and marines, men 
 of approved hardihood. He began to enclose Fort Mo ul trie ; having 
 procured a full knowledge of the state of the garrison and defences 
 of the place, he prepared to storm ft on the part of the west and 
 northwest, where the works were the weakest. The garrison, sensi- 
 ble of the impossibility of relief, the English being masters of the 
 sea, and seeing the means of attack incomparably superior to those 
 of resistance, surrendered, the seventh of May. Thus Fort Moul- 
 trie, which four years before had repulsed all the forces of admi- 
 ral Hyde Parker, fell without firing a shot into the power of the 
 royalists. 
 
 In the meantime, the besiegers hai completed their third parallel, 
 which they carried close to the canal we have already described ; 
 and by a sap pushed to the dam which supplied it with water on the 
 right,. they had drained it in several parts to the bottom. They 
 hastened to arm this parallel with its batteries, and to complete the 
 traverses and other mines of communication. The place being thus 
 environed, and the bombardment about to commence, Clinton sum- 
 moned Lincoln anew. A negotiation was opened, but the American 
 commander required not only that the citizens and militia should be 
 free with respect to their persons, but that they should also be per- 
 mitted to sell their property, and retire with the proceeds wherever 
 they might see fit ; the English general refused to grant these condi- 
 tions. He insisted that the whole garrison should surrender at dis- 
 cretion ; and, as to property, he would agree to nothing further than 
 that it should not be given up to pillage. The conferences were 
 
BOOK XH. THE AMERICAN WAR. 257 
 
 broken off, and hostilities recommenced. The fortifications were 
 battered with violence by the heavy artillery ; bombs and carcasses 
 overwhelmed the town, and lighted frequent conflagrations ; the 
 Hessian marksmen felled all that showed themselves at the embra- 
 sures, or on the ramparts. Neither shelter nor retreat remained to 
 the besieged ; every thing indicated that the moment of surrender 
 must soon arrive. The fire of the place was already become lan- 
 guid ; its artillery was in part dismounted, and its best cannoniers 
 either killed or out of service ; and the English had pushed on their 
 works till they issued in the ditch of the place. The city was me- 
 naced with an assault ; discord began to break out within ; the timid 
 arid those attached to the royal party murmured aloud ; they conjur- 
 ed Lincoln not to expose to inevitable destruction, so rich, so 
 important a city. They represented that the stock of provision was 
 nearly exhausted ; that the engineers considered it impossible to 
 sustain a storm ; in a word, that there was not the least way of safety 
 left open. 
 
 In so terrible an extremity, Lincoln divested himself of his natural 
 inflexibility ; and, on the twelfth of May, the capitulation was signed. 
 The garrison were allowed some of the honors of war ; but they 
 were not to uncase their colors, nor their drums to beat a British 
 inarch. The continental troops and seamen were to keep their bag- 
 gage, and to remain prisoners of war until they were exchanged. 
 The .militia were to be permitted to return to their respective homes, 
 as prisoners on parole ; and while they adhered to their parole, were 
 not to be molested by the British troops in person or property. The 
 citizens of all sorts to be considered as prisoners on parole, and to 
 hold their property on the same terms with the militia. The officers 
 of the army and navy, to retain their servants, swords, pistols, and 
 their baggage unsearched. As to general Lincoln, he was to have 
 liberty to send a ship to Philadelphia with his despatches. 
 
 Thus, after a siege of forty days, the capital of South Carolina 
 fell into the hands of the royalists. Seven general officers, ten con- 
 tinental regiments, much thinned, it is true, and three battalions of 
 artillery, prisoners of the English, gave signal importance to their 
 victory ; the whole number of men 'in arms who were taken, was 
 estimated at six thousand. Four hundred pieces of artillery, of 
 every sort, were the prey of the victors, with no small quantity of 
 powder, balls and bombs ; three stout American frigates, one 
 French, and a polacre of the same nation, augmented the value of 
 the conquest. The loss of men was not great on either side, and 
 was not very unequally shared. 
 
 The Carolinians complained greatly of their not being properly 
 assisted by their neighbors, particularly the Virginians, in this long 
 and arduous struggle. The conduct of general Lincoln was unani- 
 mously blamed, though very differently judged. Some reproached 
 
258 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xlf, 
 
 him for having allowed himself to be cooped up in so extensive and 
 indefensible a town, instead of continuing the war in the open 
 field. They said that if he had taken this course, he might have 
 preserved to the union a considerable army, and the most fertile part 
 of the province; that it would have been much better to harass and 
 fatigue the enemy by marches, retreats, ambuscades, and well con- 
 certed attacks ; that Washington had acted very differently , and with 
 greater utility to his country, when to the loss of his army, he pre- 
 ferred that of the island of New York, and even of the city of Phi- 
 ladelphia itself. It was not Lincoln alone, however, who should 
 have been made responsible for events, fyut the Congress and the 
 neighboring provincial states ; since they promised at the approach of 
 danger, reenforcements whicfc they did not furnish. 
 
 Other censors of the general's conduct condemned him for not 
 having evacuated the town, when all the roads were still open on the 
 left side of the Cooper river. But if he followed an opposite coun- 
 sel, it should be attributed, at first, to this same hope of promised 
 succour ; and then, after the rout of Monk's Corner, and the Eng- 
 lish had occupied the country between the Cooper and the Santee, 
 to the fear he justly entertained of encountering an infinite superi- 
 ority of force, particularly in cavalry, and to the repugnance he felt 
 to : leave Charleston at discretion in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 As soon as general Clinton had taken possession of that capital, 
 he hastened to take all those measures, civil as well as military, 
 which were judged proper for the reestablishment of order ; he then 
 made his dispositions for recovering the rest of the province, where 
 every thing promised to anticipate the will of the victor. Determin- 
 ed to follow up his success, before his own people should have 
 time to cool, or the enemy to take breath, he planned three expedi- 
 tions ; one towards the river Savannah, in Georgia, another upon 
 Ninety-Six, beyond the Saluda, both with a view to raise the loyal- 
 ists, very numerous in those parts ; the third was destined to scour 
 the country between the Cooper and Santee, in order to disperse 
 a body of republicans, who, under the conduct of colonel Buford 
 were retiring by forced marches towards North Carolina. All three 
 were completely successful ; the inhabitants flocked from all parts 
 to meet the royal troops, declaring their desire to resume their an- 
 cient allegiance, and ottering to defend the royal cause with arms in 
 hand. Many even of the inhabitants of Charleston, excited by 
 the proclamations of the British general, manifested a like zeal to 
 combat under his banners. Lord Cornwallis, after having swept the 
 two banks of the Cooper and passed the Santee, made himself mas- 
 ter of Georgetown. Such was the devotion, either real or feigned, 
 of the inhabitants towards the king; such was their -terror, or their 
 desire to ingratiate themselves with the victor, that not content with 
 coming in from every quarter to offer their services, in support of 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 259 
 
 the royal government, they dragged in their train as prisoners, those 
 friends of liberty, whom they had lately obeyed with such parade of 
 zeal, and whom they now denominated their oppressors. Mean- 
 while, colonel Buford continued his retreat with celerity, and it ap- 
 peared next to impossible that he should be overtaken. Tarleton, 
 nevertheless, offered to attempt the enterprise, promising to reach 
 him. Coriiwallis put under his command for this object, a strong 
 corps of cavalry, with about a hundred light infantry mounted on 
 horseback. His march was so rapid, that on the twenty-eighth of 
 May he had gained Cambden, where he learned that Buford had 
 departed the preceding day from Rugeleys Mills, and that he was 
 pushing on with extreme speed, in order to join another body of 
 republicans that was on the march from Salisbury to Charlotte, in 
 North Carolina. Tarleton saw the importance of preventing the 
 junction of these two corps ; accordingly, notwithstanding the fatigue 
 of men and horses, many of these having already dropped dead with 
 exhaustion, notwithstanding the heat of the season, he redoubled his 
 pace, and at length presented himself, after a march of one hundred 
 and five miles in fifty-four hours, at a place called Wacsaw, before 
 the object of his pursuit. The English summoned the Americans 
 to throw down their arms ; the latter answered with spirit, that they 
 were prepared to defend themselves. The colonel drew up his 
 troops in order of battle ; they consisted of four hundred Virginia 
 regulars, with a detachment of horse. He formed but one line, and 
 ordered his artillery and baggage to continue their march in his rear, 
 without halting ; his soldiers were directed to reserve their fire till 
 the British cavalry were approached within twenty yards. Tarleton 
 lost no time in preparation, but charged immediately. The Ame- 
 ricans gave way after a faint resistance ; the English pursued them 
 with vigor, and the carnage was dreadful. Their victory was com- 
 plete ; all, in a manner, that were not killed on the spot, were wound- 
 ed and taken. Such was the rage of the victors, that they massa- 
 cred many of those who offered to surrender. The Americana 
 remembered it with horror. From that time it became with them a 
 proverbial mode of expressing the cruelties of a barbarous enemy ; to 
 call them Tarleton's quarter. Artillery, baggage, munitions, colors, 
 every thing, fell into the power of the English. It appears that 
 colonel Buford committed two faults, the most serious of which was 
 the having awaited, on open ground, an enemy much superior in 
 cavalry. If instead of sending his carriages behind him, as soon as 
 he perceived the royal troops, he had formed them into a cincture for 
 his corps, the English would not have attempted to force it, or 
 would have exposed themselves to a sanguinary repulse. The 
 second, was that of forbidding his men to fire at the enemy, till he 
 was within twenty paces ; it ensued that Tarleton's cavalry was 
 enabled to charge with more order and efficacy. That officer im- 
 
260 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII; 
 
 mediately returned, followed by the trophies of his victory, to Camb- 
 den, where lie rejoined lord Cornwallis. The American division 
 which had advanced to Charlotte, changed its plan, on hearing 
 of the discomfiture of Wacsaw, and fell back with precipitation on 
 Salisbury. 
 
 This reverse destroyed the last hopes of the Carolinians, and was 
 soon followed by their submission. General Clinton wfote to Lon- 
 don, that South Carolina was become English again, and that there 
 were few men in the province who were not prisoners to, or in arms 
 with the British forces. But he was perfectly aware that the con- 
 quest he owed to his arms could not be preserved but by the entire 
 re.establishment of the civil administration. To this end, he deemed 
 it essential to put minds at rest by the assurance of amnesty, and to 
 oblige the inhabitants to contribute to the defence of the country, 
 and to the restoration of the royal authority. Accordingly, in concert 
 with admiral Arbuthnot, he published a full ami absolute pardon in 
 favor of those who should immediately return to their duty, promis- 
 ing that no offences and transgressions heretofore committed in con- 
 sequence of political troubles, should be subject to any investigation 
 whatever. He excepted only those who, under a mockery of the 
 forms^of justice, .had imbrued their hands in the blood of their fellow- 
 citizens, who had shown themselves adverse to revolt and usurpa- 
 tion. He had then to reflect that a great number of the Carolinians 
 were prisoners of war on parole, and that while they were considered 
 as such, they could not equitably be constrained to take arms in 
 favor of the king. But. in the pride of victory, Clinton thought he 
 might sport with the public faith, and got over this difficulty by 
 declaring, in a proclamation issued on the third of June, that the 
 prisoners of war were free, and released from their parole, with the 
 exception of the regular troops taken in Charleston and Fort Moul- 
 trie ; he added, that they were reestablished in all the rights and 
 all the duties of British subjects. But that no doubt might remain 
 with, regard to his intentions, and to prevent all conjecture, he gave 
 notice that every man must take an active part in support of the 
 royal government, and in the suppression of that anarchy which had 
 prevailed already but too long. For the attainment of this object, 
 he required all persons to be in readiness with their arms at a mo- 
 ment's warning 5 those who had families, to form a militia for home 
 defence ; but those who had none, to serve with the royal forces for 
 any six- months of the ensuing twelve, in which they might be called 
 upon to assist, as he said, ' in driving their rebel oppressors, and all 
 the miseries of war, far from the province.' They were not to be 
 employed, however, out of the two Carolinas and Georgia. Thus 
 citizens were armed against citizens, brothers against brothers ; thus 
 the same individuals who had been acknowledged as soldiers of the 
 Congress, since they had been comprehended in the capitulation as 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 261 
 
 prisoners of war, were constrained to take arms for the king of Eng- 
 land ; a violence, if not unprecedented, at least odious, and which 
 rebounded, as we shall see by the sequel, on the heads of those who 
 were guilty of it. General Clinton seeing the province in tranquillity, 
 and the ardor which appeared universal, of the inhabitants to join 
 the royal standard, distributed his army in the most important garri- 
 sons ; wheMteleaving lord Cornwallis in command of all the forces 
 stationed insouth Carolina and Georgia, he departed from Charles- 
 ton for his government of New York. 
 
 That city, during his absence, had been exposed to a danger as 
 unexpected as alarming. A winter, unequalled in that climate for 
 its length and severity, had deprived New York and the adjoining 
 islands of all the defensive benefits of their insular situation ; the 
 Hudson river, with the straits and channels by which they are divided 
 and surrounded, were every where clothed with ice of such a strength 
 and thickness, as would have admitted the passage of armies, with 
 tlieir heaviest carriages and artillery. This change, so suddenly 
 wrought in the nature of the situation, caused the British commanders 
 extreme disquietude ; they feared the more for the safety of New 
 York, as its garrison was then very feeble, and the army of Washing- 
 ton not far off. Accordingly, they neglected none of those prudential 
 measures which are usual in similar cases ; all orders of men in New 
 York were imbodied, armed and officered. The officers and crews 
 of the frigates undertook the charge of a redoubt ; and those of the 
 transports, victuallers and merchantmen, were armed with pikes, for 
 the defence of the wharves and shipping. But Washington was in no 
 condition to profit of this unlooked for event. The small army which 
 remained with him hutted at Morristown, was inferior in strength even 
 to the British regular force at New York, exclusive of the armed in- 
 habitants and militia. He sent lord Sterling, it is true, to make an 
 attempt upon Staten Island, and to reconnoitre the ground ; but that 
 general, observing no movement in his favor on the part of the city, 
 returned to his first position. Thus the scourge of short engagements 
 and the torpor which prevailed at that time amongst the Americans, 
 caused them to lose the most propitious occasion that could have been 
 desired, to strike a blow that would have sensibly affected the British 
 power. If their weakness constrained them to inaction in the vici- 
 nity of New York, the English did not imitate their example. As 
 soon as the return of spring had freed them from the danger they had 
 apprehended during the season of ice, they renewed their predatory 
 exploits in New Jersey. Their object in these excursions of devas- 
 tation and plunder, was to favor the operations in Carolina, in order 
 that the enemy, feeling insecure at various points, might carry suc- 
 cour to none. 
 
 About the beginning of June, and a few days previous to the return 
 of general Clinton, the generals Knyphausen, Robertson, and Try on. 
 VOL. TI. 34 
 
262 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 who during his absence commanded the troops cantoned at New York, 
 had entered New Jersey with a corps of five thousand men, and had 
 occupied Elizabethtown ; they conducted themselves there with gene- 
 rosity, and abstained from all pillage. They afterwards advanced 
 and took possession of Connecticut Farms, a new and flourishing 
 village. Irritated at the resistance they had experienced in their 
 march, having been harassed incessantly by the countr|yplitia, who 
 had risen against them from all the neighboring parts, they set fire to 
 this place ; only two houses escaped ; even the church was a prey 
 to the flames. This disaster was signalised by a deplorable event, 
 which contributed not a little to redouble the indignation of the 
 republicans against the royalists. Among the inhabitants of Con- 
 necticut Farms was a young gentlewoman, as celebrated for her 
 virtues as for the singular beauty of her person. Her husband, James 
 Cad well, was one of the most ardent and influential pat iots in that 
 province. He urged her, and resorted to the entreaties of friends to 
 persuade her to withdraw from the danger ; but trusting to her own 
 innocence for protection, she awaited the invaders. She was sur- 
 rounded by her little children, and near her a nursery maid held in 
 her arms the youngest of her offspring. A furious soldier appeared at 
 the window, a Hessian, as it is said ; he took aim at this unfortunate 
 mother, and pierced her breast with an instantly mortal shot ; her 
 blood gushed upon all her tender orphans. Other soldiers rushed 
 into the house and set it on fire, after having hastened to bury their 
 victim. Thus, at least, the republicans relate this horrible adventure. 
 The English pretended that the shot had been fired at random, and 
 even that it was discharged by the Americans, since it came from the 
 part by which they retired. However the truth may be, the melan- 
 choly fate of this gentlewoman, fired the breasts of the patriots with 
 such rage, that they flew from every quarter to take vengeance upon 
 the authors of so black a deed. The royal troops had put them- 
 selves on the march to seize a neighboring town called Springfield. 
 They had nearly reached it, when they were informed that general 
 Maxwell awaited them there, with a regiment of New Jersey regu- 
 lars and a strong body of militia, impatient for combat. The English 
 halted, and passed the night in that position. The next morning they 
 fell back with precipitation upon Elizabethtown, whether their com- 
 manders thought it imprudent to attack an enemy who bore so me- 
 nacing a countenance, or that they had received intelligence, as they 
 published, that Washington had detached from Morristown a strong 
 reenforcement to Maxwell. The Americans pursued them with 
 warmth, but to little purpose, from the valor and regularity displayed 
 in their retreat. 
 
 At this conjuncture, general Clinton arrived at New York, and 
 immediately adopted a plan from which he promised himself the most 
 decisive success. His purpose was to dislodge Washington from the 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 263 
 
 strong position he occupied in the mountainous and difficult country 
 of Morrisonia, which, forming a natural barrier, had furnished the 
 American captain-general with an impregnable shelter against the 
 attacks of the English, even when his force was the most reduced. 
 Accordingly, Clinton having embarked a considerable body of 
 troops at New York, executed such movements as made it appeal- 
 that his deijjf was to ascend the Hudson river, in order to seize the 
 passes in tnvmountains towards the lakes. He had persuaded him- 
 self that Washington, as soon as he should be informed of this demon- 
 stration, would instantly put himself in motion, and in the fear of 
 losing these passes, would advance with the whole or the greater part 
 of his force, in order to defend them. The British general intended to 
 seize this occasion to push rapidly with, the troops he had at Eliza- 
 bethtown, against the heights of Morrisonia, and thus to occupy the 
 positions which constituted the security of Washington. And, even 
 on the supposition that their distance should render it unadvisable to 
 maintain them, the destruction of the extensive magazines which the 
 republicans had established there, offered a powerful attraction. 
 Washington, in effect, who watched all the movements of Clinton, 
 penetrated his designs. Fearing for West Point, and the important 
 defiles of that part, he retained with him only the force indispensably 
 requisite to defend the heights of Morrisonia, and detached the rest 
 upon the banks of the Hudson, under general Greene. The royalists 
 then marched with rapidity from Elizabethtovvn towards Springfield. 
 This place is situated at the foot of the heights of Morrisonia, on the 
 right bank of a stream that descends from them, and covers it in front. 
 Colonel Angel guarded the bridge with a small detachment, but com- 
 posed of picked men. Behind him the regiment of colonel Shrieve 
 formed a second line, and ascending towards the heights near Shorts 
 Hill, were posted the corps of Greene, Maxwell, and Stark. There 
 were few continental troops, but the militia were numerous and full 
 of ardor. 
 
 On arriving at the bridge, the royalists attacked colonel Angel 
 with great impetuosity. He defended himself bravely, killing many 
 of the enemy, and losing few of his own. At length, yielding to num- 
 ber, he fell back in perfect order upon the second line. The English 
 passed the bridge, and endeavored to pursue their advantage. Shrieve 
 resisted their efforts for a while ; but too inferior in men, and espe- 
 cially in artillery, he withdrew behind the corps of Greene. The 
 English, then examining the situation of places, and the strength of 
 the American intrenchments. abandoned the design of assaulting them. 
 Perhaps the approach of night, the impracticable nature of the coun- 
 try, the obstinate defence of the bridge, the sight of the militia rush- 
 ing towards the camp from all parts, and the danger of losing all 
 communication with Elizabethtown, contributed to this abrupt change 
 in the resolutions of the British generals. Exasperated at these un- 
 
264 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xll. 
 
 expected obstacles, they devoted to pillage and flames the flourishing 
 village of Springfield ; they afterwards returned upon Elizabethtown. 
 Enraged at seeing this conflagration, the republicans pursued the 
 British troops with so much violence, that only their discipline and 
 the ability of their commanders could have saved them from total 
 destruction. They profited of the cover of night to abandon the 
 shores of New Jersey, and passed into Staten Island* Thus the 
 design of Clinton was baffled by a resistance for whic^^e was little 
 prepared. The English gained by this expedition only the shame 
 of repulse, and eternal detestation on the part of their enemies. 
 Washington, in official reports, greatly commended the valor of his 
 troops. 
 
 But it is time to resume our narrative of the affairs of Carolina. 
 The English administration, which, after the conquest of that pro- 
 vince had been established by the royal troops, deliberated upon the 
 means of repairing the evils caused by the war and by civil dissen- 
 tions, in order to confirm the return of monarchical authority. Since 
 that of the Congress had ceased to exist in the country, the paper 
 currency had fallen into such discredit, that it was not possible to 
 circulate it at any rate whatever. Many individuals had been forced 
 to receive as reimbursement for credits of long standing, those depre- 
 ciated bills ; others had balances still due them upon contracts stipu- 
 lated according to the nominal value of the paper. It was resolved, 
 therefore, to compel the debtors of the first to account with them by 
 a new payment in specie, for the difference that existed between the 
 real and the nominal value of the bills ; and to establish a scale of 
 proportion, according to which, those who owed arrearages should 
 satisfy their creditors in coined money. To this end, thirteen com- 
 missioners were appointed. They were to inform themselves with 
 accuracy of the different degrees of the depreciation of the paper, 
 and afterwards to draw up a table of reduction, to serve as a legal 
 regulation in the payment of the debts above specified. The commis- 
 sioners proceeded in the execution of this difficult task with equal 
 justice and discernment ; they compared the price of the products of 
 the country, during the circulation of the bills, with that they had 
 borne a year before the war. Examining then the different rates of 
 exchange of the bills for specie, they formed, not only year by year, 
 but also month by month, a table, the first column of which contained 
 the dates, the second the ratio of the value of the bills to that of 
 specie, the third the ratio of the value of bills to the price of produce, 
 and the fourth the proportional medium of depreciation. This ex- 
 tinction of the value of bills of credit, occasioned by the presence of 
 the English in Georgia and Carolina, induced those inhabitants who 
 still held them, to carry or send them into other provinces, where 
 they continued to have some circulation. But this influx itself, added 
 to the loss of Carolina, and the sinister aspect which the situation of 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 2C5 
 
 the affairs of Congress presented at this epoch, accelerated the fall 
 of paper money in all the states of the confederation. Too well con- 
 vinced that there was no remedy capable of arresting the progress of 
 this appalling evil, the Congress determined to yield to the storm. 
 They decreed that in future their bills should pass, no longer at their 
 nominal, but only at their conventional value; and they also drew up 
 a scale of dfc-eciation for the regulation of payments. This resolu- 
 tion, whicll^nougb assuredly a violation of the public faith, was, with 
 the exception of dishonest debtors, both agreeable and advantageous 
 to all classes. Can there, in fact, exist, for a nation, a greater cala- 
 mity than to have a currency as the representative of money, when 
 that currency is fixed by law, and variable in opinion ? It is also to 
 be considered that the bills of credit were then in the hands, not of 
 the first, but of the last possessors, who had acquired them at their 
 depreciated value. It was only to be regretted that the Congress 
 had made so many solemn protestations of their intention to main- 
 tain the nominal value of their paper. Even the tenor of the bills, 
 the terms of the law of their creation, all the public acts which related 
 to them, were so many engagements that a dollar in paper should 
 always be given and received for a dollar in silver. Scarcely were 
 a few months elapsed since the Congress, in a circular letter, had 
 spoken of the same resolution they had now taken, as a measure of 
 the most flagrant injustice. In that letter they affirm, that even the 
 supposition of a similar breach of faith, ought to excite universal ab- 
 horrence. But such is the nature of new governments, especially in 
 limes of revolution, where affairs of state are so much under the con- 
 trol of chance, that they frequently promise what they cannot perform ; 
 the empire of circumstances seems to them a fair plea for not keep- 
 ing faiih. Their precarious positions should render them at least less 
 prodigal of promises and oaths ; but, as inexperienced as presump- 
 tuous, and vainly believing their object attained, when they have 
 found means to push on for a day, they seem the more bold in con- 
 tracting engagements, the less it is in their power to fulfill them. 
 
 The proclamation by which the British commanders had absolved 
 the prisoners of war from their parole, and restored them to the 
 condition of British subjects, in order to compel them to join the 
 royal troops, had created a deep discontent among the Carolinians. 
 The greater part desired, since they had lost liberty, to remain at 
 least in tranquillity at their homes, thus conforming themselves to the 
 time, and submitting to necessity. If this repose had been granted 
 them, they would not have exerted themselves to obtain a change; 
 they would have supported less impatiently the unhappy situation of 
 the republic ; little by little they would have accustomed themselves 
 to the new order of things, and would have forgotten the past. But 
 this proclamation rekindled their rage. They cried with one voice, 
 ' if we must resume arms, let us rather fight for America and our 
 
260 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 friends, than for England and strangers !' Many did as they said. 
 Released from their parole, considering themselves at liberty to lake 
 arms anew, and determined to venture all to serve their cause, they 
 repaired by circuitous and unfrequented ways into North Carolina, 
 which was still occupied by the troops of Congress. Others con- 
 tinued to remain in the country, and in the condition of prisoners of 
 war, deferring to take their resolution till the British ^fccers should 
 actually summon them to enter the field. The greater^fart, submit- 
 ting to circumstances, could not resolve to abandon their property, 
 and withdraw into distant provinces as some of their fellow-citizens 
 had done. In dread of the persecutions of the English, and even of 
 their own countrymen, and desirous to win favor with their new 
 masters, they had recourse to dissimulation. They preferred to 
 change their condition, and from prisoners of war to become British 
 subjects. This resolution appeared to them the more expedient, as 
 a report was then in circulation, perhaps purposely forged, that the 
 Congress were come to the determination no longer to dispute with 
 the English the possession of the southern provinces. This rumor 
 was directly opposite to the truth ; for in the sitting of the twenty- 
 fifth of June, the Congress had declared with much solemnity that 
 they purposed to make every possible exertion for their recovery. 
 But the prisoners of Carolina knew nothing of what passed without, 
 and from day to day they became more confirmed in the idea that 
 their country would remain under British domination. Thus, be- 
 tween choice and compulsion, the multitude resumed the bonds of 
 submission. But the English could have wished to have all under 
 their yoke ; they saw with pain that within as well as without the 
 province, there remained some individuals devoted to the party of 
 Congress. Their resentment dictated the most extraordinary mea- 
 sures against the property and families of those who had emigrated, 
 and of those who had remained prisoners of war. The possessions 
 of the first were sequestrated and ravaged ; their families were jea- 
 lously watched and subjected, as rebels, to a thousand vexations. 
 The second were often separated from their hearths, and confined 
 in remote and unhealthy places. These rigors constrained some 
 to retract, and bend the neck under the new slavery ; others to offer 
 themselves as good and loyal subjects of the king. Among them 
 were found individuals who had manifested the most ardor for the 
 cause of liberty, and who had even filled the first offices, under the 
 popular government. They generally colored their conversion with 
 saying, that they had never aspired to independence, and that they 
 abhorred the alliance of France. Thus men will rather stain them- 
 selves with falsehood and perjury, than live in misfortune and pover- 
 ty ! Such was the conduct of the inhabitants of the country ; but 
 those of the city, having by the terms of capitulation the right to 
 remain in their habitations, were not comprehended in the proclama- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 267 
 
 tion of the third of June. It was requisite, therefore, to employ 
 other means to induce them to stoop to allegiance. The English 
 and more zealous loyalists manoeuvred in such a manner, that more 
 than two hundred citizens of Charleston subscribed and presented to 
 the British generals an address, by which they congratulated them 
 upon their victories. This step had been concerted. It was an- 
 swered thenj^that they should enjoy the protection of the state and 
 all the privileges of British subjects, if they would sign a declaration 
 of their allegiance and readiness to support the royal government. 
 They obeyed ; and their example had many imitators. Hence arose 
 a distinction between subjects and prisoners. The first were pro- 
 tected, honored and encouraged ; the second were regarded with 
 contempt, persecuted and harassed in their persons and property. 
 Their estates in the country were loaded with taxes, and even ravag- 
 ed. Within the city they were refused access to the tribunals, if 
 they had occasion to bring suits against their debtors ; while on the 
 other hand they were abandoned to all the prosecutions of their 
 creditors. Thus forced to pay, they were not permitted to receive. 
 They were not suffered to go out of the city without a pass, which was 
 often refused them without motive, and they were even threatened 
 with imprisonment unless they took the oath of allegiance. Their 
 effects were given up to the pillage of the soldiery ; their negroes 
 were taken from them ; they had no means of redress, but in yield- 
 ing to what was exacted of them ; while the claims of subjects were 
 admitted without question. The artisans were allowed to labor, but 
 not to enforce payment for their work, if their customers chose to 
 refuse it. The Jews had been permitted to purchase many valuable 
 goods of the British traders who had followed the army ; but unless 
 they became subjects, they were not allowed to sell them. In brief, 
 threats, fraud, and force, were industriously exercised to urge the 
 inhabitants to violate their plighted faith, and resume their ancient 
 chains. The greater part had recourse to dissimulation, and by be- 
 coming subjects, were made partakers of British protection ; others, 
 more firm, or more virtuous, refused to bend. But they soon saw 
 an unbridled soldiery sharing out their spoils ; some were thrown 
 into pestilential dungeons ; others, less unfortunate or more prudent, 
 condemned themselves to a voluntary exile. 
 
 Amidst the general desolation, the women of Carolina exhibited 
 an example of more than masculine fortitude. They displayed so 
 ardent, so rare a love of country, that scarcely could there be found 
 in ancient or modern history an instance more worthy to excite sur- 
 prise and admiration. Far from being offended at the name of rebel 
 ladies, they esteemed it a title of distinction, and glory. Instead of 
 showing themselves in assemblies, the seat of joy and brilliant plea- 
 sures, they repaired on board ships, they descended into dungeons, 
 where their husbands, children and friends were in confinement ; 
 
268 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK XII. 
 
 they carried them consolations and encouragements. ' Summon 
 your magnanimity,' they said, ' yield not to the fury of tyrants ; hesi- 
 tate not to prefer prisons to infamy, death to servitude. America 
 has fixed her eyes on her beloved defenders; you will reap, doubt 
 it not, the fruit of your sufferings ; they will produce liberty, that 
 parent of all blessings ; they will shelter her forever from the assaults 
 of British banditti. You are the martyrs of a cause th^most grate- 
 ful to heaven, and sacred for men.' By such words these generous 
 women mitigated the miseries of the unhappy prisoners. They 
 would never appear at the. balls or routs that were given by the vic- 
 tors ; those who consented to attend them were instantly despised, 
 and dropped by all the others. The moment an American officer 
 arrived at Charleston as prisoner of war, they sought him out, and 
 loaded him with attention and civilities. They often assembled in 
 the most retired parts of their houses, to deplore without restraint the 
 misfortunes of their country. Many of them imparted their noble 
 spirit to their hesitating and wavering husbands; they determined them 
 to prefer a rigorous exile to their interest and to the sweets of life. 
 Exasperated at their constancy, the English condemned the most 
 zealous to banishment and confiscation. In bidding a last farewell 
 to their fathers, their children, their brothers, their husbands, 
 these heroines, far from betraying the least mark of weakness, 
 which in men might have been excused, exhorted them to arm 
 themselves with intrepidity. They conjured them not to allow fortune 
 to vanquish them, nor to suffer the love they bore their families to 
 render them unmindful of all they owed their country. When com- 
 prehended, soon after, in the general decree of banishment issued 
 against the partisans of liberty, they abandoned with the same firm- 
 ness their natal soil. A supernatural alacrity seemed to animate 
 them when they accompanied their husbands into distant countries, 
 and even when immured with them in the fetid ships, into which 
 they were inhumanly crowded. Reduced to the most frightful indi- 
 gence, they were seen to beg bread for themselves and families. 
 Among those who were nurtured in the lap of opulence, many passed 
 suddenly from the most delicate and the most elegant style of living 
 to the rudest toils, and to the humblest services. But humiliation 
 could not triumph over their resolution and cheerfulness ; their ex- 
 ample was a support to their companions in misfortune. To this 
 heroism of the women of Carolina, it is principajly to be imputed, 
 that the love, and even the name of liberty, were not totally extin- 
 guished in the southern provinces. The English hence began to be 
 sensible, that their triumph was still far from secure. For, in every 
 affair of public interest, the general opinion never manifests itselt 
 with more energy than when women take part in it with all the life 
 of their imagination. Less powerful as well as less stable than that 
 of men when cairn, it is far more vehement and pertinacious when 
 roused and inflamed. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 269 
 
 Such was the spectacle presented at that time in South Carolina ; 
 on the one hand, an open resistance to the will of the conqueror, or 
 a feigned submission ; on the other, measures that continually ope- 
 rated an effect directly contrary to that which their authors expected 
 from them. Meanwhile, the heat of the season, the dubious state 
 of the province itself, and the necessity of deferring the campaign 
 until the hajjpest was over, occasioned an almost general suspension 
 of arms. It was not possible for the English to think of the con- 
 quest of North Carolina before the last of August or the beginning 
 of September. Lord Cornwallis resolved to canton his troops in 
 such a manner, that they should be in readiness to support the loyal- 
 ists, to repress the discontented, and to undertake the invasion of 
 that province as soon as the proper season should awive. He was 
 particularly careful to collect provision and munitions of war. His 
 principal magazines were established at Cambden, a large vilhige 
 situated on the banks of the river Wateree, and upon the road which 
 leads into North Carolina. 
 
 He feared lest the loyalists of that province, stimulated by excess 
 of zeal, should break out before the time, which might lead to their 
 destruction. His emissaries continually exhorted them to await the 
 time of harvest in tranquillity, and to content themselves with prepar- 
 ing subsistence for the royal troops, who would advance to their 
 succour towards the month of September. These prudent counsels 
 had not the effect to prevent the loyalists of Tryon county from 
 rising at the instigation of colonel Moore. But instantly crushed by 
 a corps of republicans, under the command of general Ruiherford, 
 they paid dearly for the contempt with which they had presumed to 
 treat admonitions dictated by foresight. Eight hundred loyalists, 
 however, under the conduct of colonel Bryan, made good their junc- 
 tion with the royal troops. B'it while the British generals were 
 making their dispositions to profit of the favorable season to attack 
 North Carolina, 'in order to open themselves a passage into the heart 
 of Virginia, the Congress exerted all diligence to put themselves in 
 a situation to recover South Carolina. Their efforts, as we shall 
 see, were not without success. Thus the flames of war, for the 
 moment almost extinguished, were on the point of being "rekindled 
 with more violence than ever. 
 
 Before entering upon the recital of the events of the bloody cam- 
 paign that ensued, it is necessary to describe what passed in the 
 West Indies between two powerful and equally spirited rivals. Al- 
 ready a very obstinate action had taken place between the chevalier 
 de la Motte Piquet and commodore Cornwallis, in the waters of La 
 Grange, to the east of Cape Francois. The first had four ships, 
 two of which of seventy-four guns, the Annibal and the Diademe. 
 The other had only three, the heaviest of which was the Lion, of 
 sixty-four guns. But this engagement was merely a prelude to the 
 VOL. ii. 35 
 
270 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xll. 
 
 battles that followed shortly after. About the last of March, the 
 count de Guichen had arrived in the West Indies with such consider- 
 able reenforcemenls, that the French fleet there amounted to twenty- 
 five sail of the line. Resolved to profit of their superiority by sea 
 as well as by land, the French embarked a strong body of troops, 
 under the conduct of the marquis de Bouille, and presented them- 
 selves with twenty-two ships of the line before the^islarid of St. 
 Lucia. Their intention was to carry it by assault. But general 
 Vaughan, who commanded on shore, had neglected no measure of 
 defence ; and admiral Hyde Parker, who had repaired thither from 
 the coasts of America, had so advantageously posted sixteen sail of 
 the line at Gros Islet, that the French commanders abandoned their 
 project, and returned to Martinico. A few days after, admiral Rod- 
 ney arrived at St. Lucia with reenforcernents from Europe ; his 
 junction with Parker placed at his command twenty-two sail of the 
 line. Full of confidence in his strength, the English admiral sailed 
 immediately for Fort Royal bay in Martinico, in order to challenge 
 his enemy to battle. But the count de Guichen, who was not dis- 
 posed to engage a decisive action, except when he should think it 
 expedient, did not go out of the port. Rodney having left some 
 swift sailing frigates to watch the motions of the French, and to give 
 notice, in case they should sail, returned with the remainder of his 
 fleet to St. Lucia. The count de Guichen did not remain long 
 inactive. He put to sea, in the night of the thirteenth of April, with 
 twenty-two sail of the line, and four thousand land troops, prepared 
 to undertake any operation that should offer some hope of success. 
 Rodney was soon advised of it, and sailed in quest of him ; his fleet 
 consisted of twenty ships of the line, and the Centurion of fifty guns. 
 He commanded the centre himself, rear-admiral Hyde Parker the 
 van, and rear-admiral Rowley the rear division. The French were 
 standing through the channel of Dominica, intending afterwards to 
 stretch off to windward of Martinico. Their van was under the 
 conduct of the chevalier de Sade, the main body was led by the 
 commander-in-chief, the count de Guichen, and the rear by the 
 count de Grasse. The two armaments came in si^ht of each other 
 towards evening, on the sixteenth of April. The French, whose 
 ships were encumbered with soldiers, and who found themselves 
 under the wind, endeavored to avoid an engagement. But the Eng- 
 lish bore down upon them. The count de Guichen profited of the 
 night to manosuvre so as not to be obliged to join battle ; Rodney, 
 on the contrary, in order to render it inevitable. On the succeeding 
 morning, the two fleets executed various evolutions with admirable 
 skill ; and, a little before one o'clock, the French rear was brought 
 to action by the British van. For it is to be observed, that in tack- 
 ing to take an inverse order of battle, the French VHII was become 
 rear. Meanwhile, Rodney arrived with his division upon the French 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 271 
 
 centre ; his own ship, the Sandwich, of ninety guns, was encountered 
 by M. de Guichen, in the Couronne, of eighty, arid by his two 
 seconds, the Fendant and Triumphant. But in crowding sail before 
 the action, the French fleet had not been able to keep its distances 
 perfectly. Its rear, moreover, which had become head of the line, 
 being composed of more heavy sailing ships than those of the two 
 other divisiops, there had resulted thence a considerable chasm 
 between that squadron and the centre. This separation was still 
 increased by the drift of the Actionnaire, which, instead of standing, 
 as the last vessel of the centre, the first of the rear, had suffered 
 herself to fall to leeward of the line. Rodney resolved to seize the 
 opportunity, and moved in order to cut off this rear guard from the 
 rest of the fleet. But the Destin, commanded by M. Dumaitz de 
 Goimpy, being at the head of that division, threw herself across his 
 way, and engaged the Sandwich with so much vigor as to arrest his 
 passage. The French ship would have been crushed, however, by 
 a force so greatly superior, if the count de Guichen, perceiving the 
 design of his adversary, had not made a signal to the ships of his 
 centre to put about, and push, wind aft, all together, in order to 
 rejoin and extricate the rear. 'This movement, executed with 
 extreme celerity, completely baffled the plan of the British admiral, 
 and, consequently, saved the French fleet from a total defeat. Rod-, 
 ney now finding himself exposed to have the blow he had meditated 
 against his adversary retorted upon himself, recoiled instantly, and 
 pressed to regain his place in the line with his other ships. Soon 
 after he made his dispositions for renewing the action ; but seeing 
 the crippled condition of several of his ships, and the particularly 
 dangerous state of the Sandwich, which was with difficulty kept 
 above water, he thought it more prudent to desist. The count de 
 Guichen drew off to refit ; he afterwards touched at Guadaloupe in 
 order to put ashore his sick and wounded. Rodney continued to 
 manoeuvre in the open sea for some days, and then returned to 
 cruise off Fort Royal bay, hoping to intercept the French fleet, 
 which he believed was on its way for that anchorage. But at length, 
 the enemy not appearing, and finding it necessary to disembark the 
 sick and wounded, and to refit and water his fleet, he put into Choc 
 Bay, in St. Lucia. The loss of the British in this action, amounted 
 to one hundred and twenty killed, and to three hundred and fifty- 
 three wounded. Of the French, two hundred and twenty-one died, 
 and five hundred and forty were wounded. Rodney in the report 
 of the battle which he sent to England, passed high encomiums on 
 the talents and gallantry of the French admiral ; and added, that he 
 had been admirably seconded by his officers. This was an indirect 
 reproach to his own ; of whom, generally, he felt that he had much 
 reason to complain. The two parties alike claimed the honor of 
 victory, as it is usual in every combat, the issue of which is not deci- 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 sive. After having repaired his ships, and taken aboard the troops 
 under the command of the marquis de Bouille, M. de Guichen again 
 put to sea. His design was to ascend to windward of the islands by 
 the north of Gu-uJaloupe, and then to disembark his land forces at 
 Gros Islet, in St. Lucia. Apprised of this movement, Rodney 
 immediately set sail in search of the French fleet. He issued from 
 the channel of St. Lucia, as it was standing off the extremity of 
 Martinico, towards Point de Salines. At sight of the British arma- 
 ment, the French admiral became sensible that he must abandon the 
 attack of St. Lucia. His prudence is to be applauded in abstaining 
 from coming to battle, although his position to windward of the 
 enemy had placed it in his power ; but he inclined first to secure 
 the advantages which were offered him by the nature of those seas, 
 and the direction of the wind. He manoeuvred to retain the weather- 
 gage, and, at the same time, to draw the English to windward of 
 Martinico. In case of a check, he had in that island a certain refuge, 
 and if victor, he left none for his enemy. The British admiral labor- 
 ed on his part to gain the wind, and continued to approach more and 
 more. The hostile fleet had received each a reenforcement of one 
 ship of the line ; the French, the Dauphin Royal ; the English, the 
 Triumph. These evolutions, in which the two admirals displayed 
 no ordinary degree of skill and judgment in seamanship, were pro- 
 longed for several days, and still Rodney had not been able to attain 
 the object of his efforts. The French, whose ships were superior in 
 point of sailing, to entice the English, as has been said, more to 
 windward of Martinico, suffered themselves to be approached from 
 time to time, and then suddenly spreading all sail, departed out of 
 reach. This sport succeeded with them at first perfectly ; but at 
 length the French were nearly entangled into a general' engagement, 
 in a situation which presented more than one sort of peril ; for their 
 intention being to avoid it, they found themselves in no suitable order 
 for battle. The wind had gradually veered to the south. Vigilant 
 to profit of this change, Rodney put his ships about, and pushed 
 on the other tack to gain the wind upon the French. He would 
 have effected his purpose, if the wind had not, in this critical mo- 
 ment, suddenly shifted to the southeast. The count de Guichen 
 could then also put himself on the other tack, which movement pre- 
 sented such a front to the English as no longer permitted them to 
 gain the wind of him. He afterwards continued to retire in order to 
 avoid an action. But in consequence of the last manoeuvres, the 
 two fleets being brought within cannon-shot of each other, the Eng- 
 lish pressed forward their van upon the French rear. It was already 
 towards night fall, on the fifteenth of May. The headmost of the 
 British ships, and particularly the Albion, found themselves exposed 
 unsupported to the fire of the whole French division, and were 
 excessively damaged. The others rejoined them ; but the French 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 273 
 
 being better sailers, then retired. Such was the second rencounter 
 between admiral Rodney and the count de Guichen. The French 
 preserved the advantage of the wind. The two armaments continu- 
 ed in sight of each other during the three ensuing days, both ma- 
 noeuvring according to the plan of operations adopted by their 
 respective admirals. Finally, in the morning of the nineteenth of 
 May, the English being advanced to the windward of Martinico about 
 forty leagues, and distant between four and five, to the southeast, 
 from the French, the count de Guichen determined to accept battle, 
 and accordingly took in sail. But as soon as the British van was 
 within reach, he made a signal for his own to bear down upon it, 
 and the action was engaged with great spirit on both sides. The 
 other divisions formed successively in order of battle, the French 
 retaining the weathergage. The conflict became general, the tvyo 
 fleets combating, the one with its starboard, the other with its lar- 
 board guns. But the ships of the French van and centre, having 
 shortened sail in order to come to closer action with the enemy, it 
 was to be feared lest the English should lack all at once in order to 
 charge the rear, which was then at a considerable distance astern. 
 To prevent the fatal consequences that might have ensued from such 
 a movement on the part of the enemy, M. de Guichen put about 
 himself, and proceeded to form again in a line with, his rear. No 
 manoeuvre could have been more suitable to the conjuncture; if it 
 had not been executed in season, the French admiral would have 
 found himself in the most perilous predicament. A few moments 
 after, nine British ships having tacked, advanced with a press of sail 
 upon the French rear ; but when they saw that the main body and 
 van had rejoined it, and that the three divisions presented themselves 
 in the best order, they resumed their station in their own line. 
 Rodney rallied such ships as were dispersed, and again drew up his 
 fleet in order of battle. The two armaments thus remained in pre- 
 sence until- night, and even till the succeeding morning, but without 
 renewing the engagement ; they probably found that they had suffered 
 too much in this and in the preceding action. Rodney sent the 
 Conqueror, the Cornwall, and the Boyne, which were the most 
 damaged, to be repaired at St. Lucia, and set sail with the rest of 
 his fleet for Carlisle Bay in the island of Barbadoes. The Corn- 
 wall went to the bottom near the entrance of Careenage harbor. 
 The count de Guichen returned with his fleet to Fort Royal bay, in 
 Martinico. The loss of the English in these two last actions was 
 sixty-eight killed and three hundred wounded. The French lost 
 one hundred and fifty-eight killed, and upwards of eight hundred 
 wounded. Among the former were numbered many officers of dis- 
 tinction, and even the son of the count de Guichen. The English 
 also had to regret several officers of much reputation. Such was 
 the result of the three battles fought between the French and Eng- 
 
274 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 lish in the West Indies ; iheir forces were nearly equal ; their valor 
 and skill were entirely so. 
 
 Here it may be observed, of what importance are the talents and 
 experience of commanders to the event of combats, and to preserve 
 nations from the most terrible reverses. For, it is evident, that if 
 either of the two hostile admirals, in the course of the three days 
 we have been describing, or during all those which they passed in 
 observing each other, had committed a single fault, the defeat and 
 ruin of his fleet must have been its inevitable consequence. 
 
 If hitherto the forces of France and of England had been pretty 
 equally balanced in the West Indies, it was not long before the first 
 acquired a decided superiority, by the junction of a Spanish squa- 
 dron which arrived in those seas. Spain had conceived an ardent 
 desire to acquire Jamaica ; and the French as eagerly coveted the 
 possession of the other islands which were still in the power of the 
 enemy. If these objects had been attained, the English would have 
 witnessed the total extinction of their domination in the West Indies. 
 With such views don Joseph Solano had departed from Cadiz, 
 about the middle of April, with twelve sail of the line and some 
 frigates. This squadron escorted upwards of eighty transports, con- 
 taining eleven thousand Spanish infantry, with a prodigious quantity 
 of artillery and munitions of war ; an armament as formidable as 
 flourishing, and suited without question, to justify the hopes with 
 which the allied courts had flattered themselves, particularly that of 
 Madrid. Already don Solano was well on his way across the At- 
 lantic, shaping his course for Fort Royal, in Martinico* It was there 
 he purposed to make his junction with all the French forces. Rod- 
 ney continued at anchor in Carlisle Bay, attending to the health of 
 his crews, recruiting his provisions and water, and refitting his ships. 
 He had no mistrust of the storm that was about to burst upon him. 
 But captain Mann, who was cruising at large with the frigate Cerbe- 
 rus, fell in with the Spanish convoy ; aware of all the importance of 
 the discovery, and feeling assured that his admiral would receive it 
 well, he took upon himself to quit his cruise and return to the West 
 Indies, in order to give the alarm. Upon this intelligence Rodney 
 put to sea with the least possible delay, for the purpose of meeting 
 the Spanish squadron ; confident of victory, if he could fall upon it 
 before its union with the French fleet. Conjecturing with reason, 
 that it was bound to Martinico, he awaited it upon the route usually 
 taken by vessels destined for that island. His dispositions were very 
 judicious ; but the prudence and precautions of the Spanish admiral 
 rendered them fruitless. Without any intimation of the design of 
 the English, and of the danger that menaced him, don Solano, as if 
 directed by a secret presentiment, instead of steering directly to- 
 wards Fort Royal, of Martinico, shaped his course more to the north 
 on his right, and stood for the islands of Dominica and Guadaloupe. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 275 
 
 As soon as he was arrived in their vicinity, he detached a very swift 
 sailing frigate to the count de Guichen, to request him to come out 
 and join him. The French admiral issued with eighteen ships; and 
 being informed that the English were cruising to windward of the 
 Antilles, in order to avoid encountering them, he sailed under the lee 
 of those islands. This voyage was so well conducted, that the two 
 armaments came together between Dominica and Guadaloupe. As- 
 suredly if all these forces, which greatly surpassed those of Rodney, 
 could have been preserved entire, or if the allies had acted more in 
 concert, they must have attained their object, namely, the absolute 
 annihilation of the British power in the West Indies. But these 
 forces, in appearance so formidable, bore within themselves the ele- 
 ments of their own destruction. The length of the passage, the 
 want of fresh provision, the change of climate and the defect of 
 cleanliness, had generated among the Spanish soldiers a contagious 
 fever, which had spread with incredible rapidity, and made horrible 
 ravages. Besides the deaths in the passage, the squadron had put 
 ashore twelve hundred sick at Dominica, and at least an equal number 
 at Guadaloupe and Martinico. The salubrity of the air, and that of 
 the new diet on which they were put in those islands, did not, however, 
 abate the fury of the pestilence ; it swept off every day the most 
 valiant soldiers ; it soon attacked also the French, though with less 
 violence than the Spaniards. This unexpected scourge not only dimi- 
 nished the ardor of the allies, but also deprived them of great part of 
 the means essential to the success of their enterprises ;, they were, 
 moreover, thwarted by the clash of opinions. The Spaniards want- 
 ed to undertake in the first place the expeditio'n of Jamaica, the 
 French that of St. Lucia and the neighboring islands, It followed, 
 that all these projects miscarried alike. Compelled to relinquish the 
 brilliant hopes with which they had flattered themselves, the allies 
 reembarked their troops, scarcely yet well recovered, and made sail 
 in company towards the leeward islands. The count de Guichen 
 escorted the Spaniards into the waters of St. Domingo, and then 
 leaving them to pursue their voyage, came to anchor at Cape Fran- 
 cois. Here he made his junction with the squadron of M. de la 
 Motte Piquet, who had been stationed in that part for the protection 
 of commerce. The Spaniards proceeded to the Havannah. At the 
 news of the juncture of the allied fleets, Rodney repaired to Gros 
 Islet bay, in St. Lucia. But as soon as he was advised that they 
 had sailed from Martinico, he , profited of a reenforcernent of ships 
 and troops that was arrived to him from England, under the conduct 
 of commodore Walsingham, to put Jamaica in a respectable state of 
 defence against the attacks of the allies. He kept the rest of his 
 force at St. Lucia, to watch the motions of the enemy and cover the 
 neighboring islands. Thus vanished the high hopes which had been 
 conceived in France as well as in Spain, from the ibrmidable war- 
 
270 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 like apparatus directed against the British West ladies. This failure 
 was less the fault of fortune than of that diversity of interests which 
 too frequently produces a want of harmony between allies; -they will 
 not march together towards the same object, and disunited they can- 
 riot attain it. 
 
 The events we have been relating were succeeded, in the West 
 Indies, by a sort of general truce between the two parties. But 
 though the fury of men was suspended for a while, that of the ele- 
 ments broke out in a manner much more tremendous. It was now 
 the month of October, and the inhabitants of the islands were in the 
 enjoyment of that unexpected tranquillity which resulted from the 
 cessation of arms, when their shores, and the seas that washed them, 
 were assailed by so dreadful a tempest, that scarcely would there be 
 found a similar example in the whole series of maritime records, 
 however replete with shocking disasters and pitiable shipwrecks. If 
 this fearful scourge fell with more or less violence upon all the islands 
 of the West Indies, it no where raged with more destructive energy 
 than in the flourishing island of Barbadoes. It was on the morning 
 of the tenth that the tornado set in, and it hardly began to abate 
 forty-eight hours after. The vessels that were moored in the port, 
 where they considered themselves in safety, were wrenched from 
 their anchors, lanched into the open sea, and abandoned to the 
 mercy of the tempest. Nor was the condition of the inhabitants on 
 shore, less worthy of compassion. In the following niaht, the vehe- 
 mence of the hurricane became yet more extreme ; houses were 
 demolished, trees uprooted, men and animals tossed hither and 
 thither, or overwhelmed by the ruins. The capital of the island 
 was well nigh rased to a level with the ground. The mansion of 
 the governor, the walls of which were three feet in thickness, was 
 shaken to its foundations, and every moment threatened to crumble 
 in ruins. Those within had hastened to barricade the doors and 
 windows to resist the whirlwinds ; all their efforts were of no avail. 
 The doors were rent from their hinges, the bars and fastenings forc- 
 ed ; and chasms started in the very walls. The governor with his 
 family sought refuge in the subterraneous vaults; but they were soon 
 driven from that shelter by the torrents of water that poured like a 
 new deluge from the sky. They issued then into the open country-, " 
 and with extreme difficulty and continual perils repaired under the 
 covert of a mound, upon which the flagstaff was erected ; but that 
 mass being itself rocked by the excessive fury of the wind, the ap- 
 prehension of being buried under the stones that were detached from 
 it, compelled them again to remove, and to retire from all habitation. 
 Happily for them they held together ; for, without the mutual aid they 
 lent each other, they must all inevitably have perished. After 
 a long and toilsome march in the midst of ruins, they succeeded in 
 gaining a battery, where they stretched themselves face downward 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 277 
 
 on the ground, behind the carriages of the heaviest cannon, still a 
 wretched and douhtful asylum, since those very carriages were con- 
 tinually put in motion by the impetuosity of the storm. The other 
 houses in the city being less solid, had been prostrated before that of 
 the governor, and their unhappy inhabitants wandered as chance 
 directed during that merciless night, without shelter and without suc- 
 cour. Many perished under the ruins of their dwellings; others 
 were the victims of the sudden inundation ; several were suffocated 
 in the mire. The thickness of the darkness, and the lurid fire of 
 the lightning, the continual peal of the thunder, the horrible whistling 
 of the winds and rain, the doleful cries of the dying, the despondent 
 moans of those who were unable to succour them, the shrieks and 
 wailings of women and children, all seemed to announce the destruc- 
 tion of the world. But the return of day presented to the view of 
 the survivors a spectacle which the imagination scarcely dares to 
 depict. This island, lately so rich, so flourishing, so covered with 
 enchanting landscapes, appeared all of a sudden transformed into 
 one of those polar regions where an eternal winter reigns. Not an 
 edifice left standing; wrecks and ruins every where ; every tree sub- 
 verted ; not an animal alive ; the earth strown with their remains, 
 intermingled with those of human beings ; the very surface of the 
 soil appeared no longer the same. Not merely the crops that were 
 in prospect, and those already gathered, had been devoured by the 
 hurricane ; the gardens, the fields, those sources of the delight and 
 opulence of the colonists, had ceased to exist. In their place were 
 found deep sand or sterile clay ; the enclosures had disappeared ; 
 the ditches were filled up, the roads cut with deep ravines. The 
 dead amounted to some thousands ; thus much is known, though the 
 precise number is not ascertained. In effect, besides those whose 
 fallen houses became their tombs, how many were swept away by 
 the waves of the swoln sea and by the torrents, resembling rivers, 
 which gushed from the hills ? The wind blew with a violence so 
 unheard of, that if credit be given to the most solemn documents, a 
 piece of cannon which threw twelve-pound balls, was transported 
 from one battery to another at more than three hundred yards dis- 
 tance. Much of what escaped the fury of the tempest fell a prey 
 to the frantic violence of men. As soon as the gates of the prisons 
 were burst, the criminals sallied forth, and joining the negroes, always 
 prepared for nefarious deeds, they seemed to brave the wrath of 
 heaven, and put every thing to sack and plunder. And perhaps the 
 whites would have been all massacred, and the whole island consign- 
 ed to perdition, if general Vaughan, who happened to be there at the 
 time, had not watched over the public safety at the head of a body 
 of regular troops. His cares were successful in saving a considera- 
 ble quantity of provision, but for which resource the inhabitants 
 would only have escaped the ravages of the hurricane, to be victims 
 VOL. ii. 36 
 
278 THE AMEBICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 of the lie less horrible scourge of famine. Nor should it be passed 
 over in silence by a sincere friend of truth and honorable deeds, 
 that the Spanish prisoners of war, at this time considerably nume- 
 rous in Barbadoes, under the conduct of don Pedro San Jago, did 
 every thing that could be expected of brave and generous soldiers. 
 Far from profiting of this calamitous conjuncture to abuse their 
 liberty, they voluntarily encountered perils of every kind to succour 
 the unfortunate islanders, who warmly acknowledged their services. 
 The other islands, French as well as English, were not much less 
 devastated than Barbadoes. At Jamaica, a violent earthquake add- 
 ed its horrors to the rage of the tornado ; the sea rose and over- 
 flowed its bounds with such impetuosity, that the inundation ex- 
 tended far into the interior of the island. 
 
 In consequence of the direction of the wind, the effects of the sea- 
 flood were the most destructive in the districts of Hanover and West- 
 moreland. While the inhabitants of Savanna la Mer, a considerable 
 village of Westmoreland, stood observing with dismay the extraordi- 
 nary swell of the sea, the accumulated surge broke over them, and 
 in an instant, men, animals, habitations, every thing, was carried with 
 it into the abyss. Not a vestige remained of that unhappy town. 
 More than three hundred persons were thus swallowed up by the 
 waves. The most fertile fields were left overspread with a deep 
 stratum of steril sand. The most opulent families were reduced in a 
 moment to the extreme of indigence. If the fate of those on shore 
 was deplorable beyond all expression, the condition of those who were 
 upon the water was not less to be pitied. Some of the vessels were 
 dashed upon shoals and breakers, others foundered in the open ocean, 
 a few made their way good into port, but grievously battered and 
 damaged. The tempest was not only fatal to ships under sail ; it 
 spared not even those that were at anchor in the securest havens. 
 Some bilged in port, and many were drifted out to sea by the resist- 
 less fury of the billows. Among the first was the Thunderer, of 
 seventy-four guns, which sunk with all on board. Several frigates 
 were so shattered that they were not thought worth repairing. "The 
 English had to regret, in all, one ship of seventy-four, two of sixty- 
 four, and one of fifty guns, besides seven or eight frigates. 
 
 Amidst so many disasters, they found, at least, some succour in 
 the humanity of the marquis de Bouille. A number of English 
 sailors, the wretched relics of the crews of the Laurel and Andro- 
 meda, wrecked upon the coasts of Martinico, fell into the power 
 of that general. He sent them free to St. Lucia, saying, that he 
 would not treat as prisoners men who had escaped the rage of the 
 elements. He expressed a hope that the English would exercise the 
 same generosity towards those Frenchmen whom a similar destiny 
 might have delivered into their power. He testified his regrets that 
 he had only been able to save so few of the English seamen, and that 
 

 BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 279 
 
 among them there was not a single officer. He concluded with 
 observing that, as the calamity had been common and general, huma- 
 nity should be extended alike towards all its victims. The merchants 
 of Kingston, the capital of Jamaica, animated by the most honorable 
 social sentiments, immediately made a subscription of ten thousand 
 pounds sterling for the relief of the sufferers. The parliament, as 
 soon as it was apprised of this catastrophe, voted, notwithstanding the 
 pressure of the expenses of the war, a donation of eighty thousand 
 pounds sterling to the inhabitants of Barbadoes, and another of forty 
 thousand to those of Jamaica. Nor was public munificence the only 
 source of their succours ; a great number of private citizens likewise 
 contributed largely to alleviate the distresses of these unfortunate 
 West Indians. 
 
 The fleet of the count de Guichen, and that of admiral Rodney, 
 were not exposed to the hurricane. The first was already departed 
 for Europe, in the month of August, escorting, with fourteen sail of 
 the line, a rich and numerous fleet of merchantmen. In consequence 
 of his departure, and in ignorance of his designs, Rodney, to whom, 
 moreover, the Spanish troops landed at the Havannah gave no little 
 disquietude, detached a part of his force to cover Jamaica, and made 
 sail with the rest for New York. But before he reached the Ame- 
 rican continent, and even before he departed from the West Indies, 
 there had happened a surprising revolution in public affairs, of which 
 we shall give an account in due time. While men were engaged in 
 so fierce a war upon the continent, and in the islands of America, 
 while they had to combat there the fury of the elements, the bellige- 
 rent powers were far from remaining inactive in Europe. Greater 
 unity was observable in the counsels of England ; but, however ex- 
 cellent her marine, it was inferior in force to that of the allied courts. 
 These, on the other hand, had more ships and more soldiers p but 
 often directed towards very different objects, by opposite interests, 
 they did not obtain the success to which they might have aspired. 
 Thus, for example, the Spaniards, always principally aiming at the 
 conquest of Gibraltar, assembled their forces, and lavished their trea- 
 sure at the foot of that fortress. From the same motive they kept 
 their ships in the port of Cadiz, instead of joining them with those of 
 France, and attempting in concert to strike a decisive blow at the 
 British power. It followed that France was obliged to send her 
 squadrons into that same port ; and, meanwhile, the British fleets 
 were blockading her atlantic ports, intercepting her commerce, cap- 
 turing her convoys, and the frigates that escorted them. 
 
 Admiral Geary, who, on the death of sir Charles Hardy, had been 
 appointed to the command of the channel fleet, had put to sea with 
 about thirty sail of the line. He fell in, the third of July, with a fleet 
 of French merchantmen, loaded with cochineal, sugar, coffee, and 
 cotton, under the guard of the ship of war Le Fier, of fifty guns- 
 
280 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 The English gave chase, and captured twelve sail, and probably 
 would have swept the whole convoy, but for a thick fog and the great 
 proximity of the coasts of France ; the rest made their ports in safety. 
 Several other French ships, and even some frigates, fell a short time 
 after, into the power of the English, but not without a gallant resist- 
 ance. As we cannot go into a narrative of all the encounters that 
 took place, we will not, however, omit the name at least of the che- 
 valier de Kergarion, captain of the Belle Poule, who with that frigate, 
 of only thirty-two guns, defended himself a long time against the 
 Nonesuch man of war, of sixty-four, commanded by James Wallace. 
 Nor was it till after the death of the intrepid Kergarion, that his suc- 
 cessor, M. de la Motte Tabouret, yielded to the necessity of striking 
 his colors; his frigate was completely dismasted ; the greater part of 
 the crew had perished. 
 
 The allies made themselves ample amends for these losses on the 
 ninth of August. Towards the latter end of July, a numerous fleet 
 of king's ships and merchantmen, had set sail from the ports of Eng- 
 land for the two Indies. Five of the first, besides much of munitions 
 of war, arms and artillery, were loaded with an immense quan- 
 tity of rigging for the use of the British fleet, stationed in those 
 distant seas. Eighteen others were either victualling ships or trans- 
 ports, carrying military stores and recruits, to reenforce the army 
 of America. The others were vessels of commerce, whose car- 
 goes were extremely valuable. This fleet was escorted by the 
 Romulus ship of the line, and three frigates. It was pursuing its 
 voyage, having in sight, at a great distance, the coasts of Spain, when, 
 in the night of the eighth of August, it fell into the midst of a squa- 
 dron of the combined fleet, which was cruising upon the accustomed 
 route of ships destined for the East or West Indies. The hostile 
 squadron was commanded by admiral don Lewis de Cordova. The 
 English mistook his lanterns at mast head for those of their own com- 
 mander, and steered accordingly. At break of day, they found them- 
 selves intermingled with the Spanish fleet. Don Cordova enveloped 
 them, and shifted the crews of sixty vessels ; the ships of war escaped 
 him. His return to Cadiz was a real triumph. The people flocked 
 to behold the prisoners, and this rich booty ; a spectacle the more 
 grateful for being uncommon, and little expected. Near three thou- 
 sand prisoners were put ashore, of every condition, and of every age. 
 Of this number, were sixteen hundred sailors, a heavy loss for Eng- 
 land, and passengers not a few. The English even regretted much 
 less the cargoes of commercial articles than the munitions of war, of 
 which their armies and fleets in both Indies experienced the most 
 pressing need. So brilliant a success was received by the Spanish 
 nation with infinite exultation. The news of it spread, on the con- 
 trary, a sort of consternation in Great Britain. The ministers found 
 themselves the object of the bitterest reproaches ; the public voice 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 281 
 
 accused them of temerity. 'They knew,' it was exclaimed, 'that 
 the allies had a formidable force at Cadiz ; why did they not direct 
 the convoy to avoid the coasts of Spain ?' 
 
 The events of maritime war, did not divert attention from the siege 
 of Gibraltar. Spain, as we have already seen, attached an extreme 
 importance to the conquest of this place. She appeared to make it 
 the capital object of the war, and the aim of all her efforts. It must 
 be admitted, in effect, that, apart from all political considerations, so 
 powerful a monarch could not have seen without indignation, a for- 
 tress upon his own territory possessed by foreigners, who, from it's 
 summit, appeared to set him at defiance. Gibraltar revived the his- 
 tory of Calais, which had also long appertained to England, but which 
 the French at length recovered ; the Spaniards promised themselves 
 the like good fortune. Accordingly, after that place had been re- 
 victualled by Rodney, the Spanish admiral, don Barcelo, exerted all 
 his vigilance to prevent its receiving any fresh succours. On the 
 other hand, general Mendoza, who commanded the troops on shore, 
 endeavored to press the fortress on the land side. He daily added 
 new works to his camp of St. Roch,and pushed his approaches with 
 all possible diligence. But whatever was the assiduity and ability of 
 the Spanish commanders, they were so thwarted by the instability of 
 the winds and. sea, and the British officers displayed so much talent 
 and activity, that, from time fo time, victualling transports found their 
 way into the place. The garrison forgot their sufferings, and resum- 
 ed courage, while the Spaniards could but gnash with rage at seeing 
 the resistance protracted so long beyond their confident expectations. 
 
 The efforts of the garrison were powerfully seconded by somo 
 ships of war which admiral Rodney had left in the port ; one of this 
 number was the Panther, of seventy-four guns. To remove so 
 troublesome an obstacle, the Spaniards formed a design to burn this 
 squadron with the transport vessels at anchor behind it. They hoped 
 even to involve in the conflagration the immense magazines of muni- 
 tions which had been constructed upon the shore. They prepared 
 for this purpose seven tire-ships, which were to be accompanied by 
 an immense number of armed gallies- and boats. Don Barcelo ad- 
 vanced his fleet, and formed it in line of battle across the mouth of 
 the harbor, as well to direct and second the attack, as to intercept 
 any vessel that should attempt to escape. On the side of the land, 
 don Mendoza held himself hi readiness to menace the garrison upon 
 all p9"mts ; he was to commence the most vigorous bombardment as 
 soon as the fire should break out on board the British squadron. The 
 night of the sixth of June was chosen for the enterprise. The dark- 
 ness, the wind, and the tide, were alike propitious. The English 
 manifested a perfect security. The fire-ships advanced, and every 
 thing promised success, when the Spaniards, either through impa- 
 tience, or, from the extreme obscurity of the night, misjudging their 
 
262 THE AMERICAN VVAK. BOOK Xli, 
 
 distance, or else not wishing to approach nearer, applied the fire with 
 too much precipitation. This unexpected sight apprised the English 
 of their danger. Immediately, without terror, and without confu- 
 sion, officers and soldiers throw themselves into boats, intrepidly 
 approach the fire-ships, make fast to them, and tow them off to places 
 where they can do no mischief. The Spaniards, after this fruitless 
 attempt, withdrew. 
 
 Meanwhile, don Mendoza busied himself with unremitting ardor 
 in urging the labors of his lines. General Elliot, to whom the king 
 of England had confided the defence of the place, suffered his ad- 
 versary to go on ; but when he saw his works well nigh completed, 
 he opened upon them so violent a cannonade, that in a short time he 
 demolished and ruined them entirely. He also made frequent sallies, 
 in which he filled up the trenches and spiked the artillery of the 
 besiegers. The English became daily more confident, the Spaniards, 
 on the contrary, seemed less animated and sanguine. Chagrined 
 that a handful of men, since the garrison of Gibraltar, including offi- 
 cers, did not exceed six thousand combatants, should not only pre- 
 sume to resist them, but even to attack them with success, they had 
 recourse to an expedient, which at length rendered the defence of 
 the place exceedingly difficult and perilous, and finally operated the 
 total destruction of the city ; and that was, to construct an immense 
 number of craft, which they called gun-boats. Their burthen was 
 from thirty to forty tons, and their crew from forty to fifty men ; they 
 were armed at the prow with a twenty-six pounder ; others mounted 
 mortars. Besides a large sail, they had fifteen oars on each side. 
 As they were easily worked, it was intended to employ them to over- 
 whelm the town and forts with bombs and balls during the nights, 
 and even, if the opportunity should present itself, to attack the 
 frigates. It was believed that two of these gun-boats might engage 
 a frigate with advantage, because of their little elevation above the 
 water, and the diminutive scope they afforded to the balls of the 
 enemy. The governor of Gibraltar, not having a similar flotilla at 
 his disposal, it became almost impossible for him to avoid its effects. 
 The Spaniards were sensible, of it, and this consideration revived 
 their ardor, and reanimated their hopes. 
 
 While the arms of England prevailed upon the American conti- 
 nent ; while those of the two ancient rivals balanced each other in 
 the West Indies, and the war was carried on in Europe with such 
 variety of success that it was singularly difficult to conjecture what 
 would be the issue of the mighty struggle, the situation of affairs in the 
 United Provinces, which had hitherto offered only doubt and incerti- 
 tude, began to assume a less ambiguous aspect. It seemed to have 
 been decreed by destiny, that the quarrel of America should shake the 
 whole globe. The coalition of the arms of Holland with those of the 
 Bourbons and of the Congress, seemed to consummate the formida- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 283 
 
 ble league that was to level the last stroke at the British power. 
 From the very commencement of the troubles of America, her cause 
 had found many more partisans in Holland than that of England. 
 Many motives concurred to this disposition of minds ; the political 
 opinions which obtained generally in Europe ; the persuasion that 
 prevailed among the Hollanders that the interests of protestantism 
 were inseparable from this discussion ; the apprehension entertained 
 by the dissenters of the usurpations, real or supposed, of the church 
 of England ; and, finally, the similarity of the present condition of 
 the Americans to that in which the United Provinces found them- 
 selves in the time of their wars against Spain. It is, therefore, not 
 to be wondered at if the French party in Holland gained every day 
 upon the English party. It is also to be observed, that even those 
 most attached to the latter party by the remembrance of ancient 
 friendship, by the community of commercial predilections, and by 
 the apprehension of the evil that France might do them in future, 
 were among the most forward to condemn the policy pursued by the 
 British government towards its colonies. They censured it the more 
 sincerely, as they foresaw that one of its inevitable consequences 
 would be to interrupt the good understanding they wished to pre- 
 serve, and to confirm the ascendency of French politics in Holland. 
 To these considerations should be added, the jealousy that existed 
 of the power of the Stadtholder, allied by consanguinity to the king 
 of England, it was feared lest that monarch might lend him support 
 to accomplish the usurpations he meditated, or was suspected of 
 meditating. The republicans, therefore, were not without anxious 
 apprehensions respecting the intentions of the British government. 
 They dreaded the dark reach of its policy ; they shuddered in think- 
 ing that it might one day subject them by the hand of the Stadtholder 
 to that same destiny which it was now striving to entail on America. 
 Every day these sinister images were presented to all eyes ; they 
 had a powerful influence en public opinion. Of the seven United 
 Provinces, that which inclined the most decidedly for France was 
 by far the most wealthy and powerful, Holland. The first of the 
 cities of the republic, Amsterdam, manifested the same sentiments. 
 To foment these dispositions, and to draw other provinces and 
 other cities into the same way of thinking, the French government 
 had recourse to the agency of that love of gain, whose empire is par- 
 ticularly so despotic with those who apply themselves to commerce. 
 It declared that it would cause to be seized upon sea every Dutch 
 vessel found employed in any sort of trade with Great Britain, those 
 only excepted which belonged to the cities of Amsterdam and Har- 
 lem. The effect of this measure was, that several important cities, 
 among others Rotterdam and Dordrecht, had gone over to France, 
 in order to participate in the privileges she granted. 
 
284 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 It was already two years since from this complication of different 
 interests, there had resulted a standing negotiation, at Aix la Cha- 
 pelle, between John Neuville, acting in the name of the pensioner 
 Van Berkel, a declared partisan of France, and William Lee, com- 
 missioner on the part of Congress. Van Berkel, as chief of the go- 
 vernment of the city of Amsterdam, succeeded, after many and 
 protracted discussions, in bringing about a treaty of amity and com- 
 merce between that city and the United States of America. This 
 treaty, it was said, was merely eventual, since it was not to take 
 effect until the independence of the colonies should have been ac- 
 knowledged by England. But was it not a recognition of that inde- 
 pendence as already absolute, to negotiate and treat with the United 
 States ? The treaty, it is true, had only been concluded with the 
 single city of Amsterdam ; but*it was hoped that the preponderance 
 of that capital in the province of Holland would easily draw after it 
 the rest of that province, and that the example of Holland would 
 guide the other six. 
 
 These negotiations were conducted with so much secrecy, that no 
 whisper of them had reached England. But the Congress, ardently 
 desirous that the result of these mysterious stipulations should be as 
 public as possible, appointed to this effect their president, Laurens, 
 minister plenipotentiary to the States-General. This resolution was 
 the more readily adopted, since it was not doubted in America, and 
 the correctness of the opinion was demonstrated by the event, that 
 the Dutch were exasperated to the last degree by the insulting 
 shackles which England attempted to impose on their commerce with 
 France, and especially by that intolerable seizure of the convoy of 
 the count de Byland. Far from attempting to palliate these out- 
 rages, and to appease discontents, M. York, ambassador of the king 
 of England at the Hague, had just delivered the States-General a 
 memorial, framed in so arrogant a style, that it was universally 
 considered as offensive to the dignity of a free and independent 
 nation. 
 
 But fortune, who seems to make her sport of the best concerted 
 projects, willed that those of the Hollanders should come to the 
 knowledge of the British ministers before they could receive their 
 accomplishment. No sooner was Laurens departed from the Ameri- 
 can shores, than he was encountered and captured off Newfoundland, 
 by the British frigate Vestal. At sight of the enemy, he had thrown 
 all his papers overboard ; but by the celerity and dexterity of a 
 British sailor, they were rescued from the water before they were 
 materially injured. Laurens was carried to London, and shut up in 
 the tower as a state prisoner. Among his papers, the British mi- 
 nisters found the treaty above mentioned, and some letters relative to 
 the negotiations at Aix la Chapelle. Forthwith, M. York made a 
 great stir at the Hague. He required the States-General in the 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 285 
 
 name of his master, not only to disavow the doings of the pensioner 
 Van Berkel, but also to make instant reparation to his Britannic 
 majesty, by the exemplary punishment of that magistrate and his 
 accomplices, as perturbators of the public peace, and violators of the 
 laws of nations. The States-General withholding their answer, the 
 British envoy renewed his instances with excessive fervor ; but the 
 Dutch government either from its reluctance to drop the mask at 
 present, or merely from the accustomed tardiness of its deliberations, 
 signified to York that the affair should be taken under serious con- 
 sideration. The States-General were inclined to gain time to recall 
 into their ports the rich cargoes they had afloat upon the ocean, as 
 well as those which, in the security of a long peace, had been depo- 
 sited in their islands. 
 
 On the other hand, the British ministers, goaded by impatience to 
 lay hand upon those riches, and little disposed to allow the Dutch suf- 
 ficient leisure to make the necessary war preparations, pretended not 
 to be at all satisfied with the answer of the States-General. They 
 recalled the ambassador at the Hague immediately. A little after, 
 there followed on both sides the usual declarations. Thus were dis- 
 solved all those relations of good understanding, which had so long 
 existed between two nations connected by reciprocal congenialities, 
 and by many and important common interests. This new enemy was 
 the more to be apprehended for England, as his dexterity in maritime 
 war was rendered more formidable by his proximity. But on the 
 one hand pride, perhaps necessary to a powerful state, and the thirst 
 of conquest, always blameable and never satisfied ; on the other, 
 intestine dissentions, and the debility of land force, which inspired 
 more dread of continental neighbors than could well comport with 
 independence, precipitated Great Britain and Holland into a war 
 decidedly and openly condemned by all sound statesmen. 
 
 It is time to remand our attention upon the American continent. 
 After the capture of Charleston and invasion of South Carolina, a 
 great and astonishing change was wrought in the minds of the colo- 
 nists. Their salvation resulted from those very causes which seemed 
 to prognosticate an impending perdition. So true it is that the spur 
 of adversity forces men to exert for their own interests, efforts to 
 which the sweets of prosperity cannot induce them ! Never was 
 this truth better exemplified than in the present conjuncture ; the 
 reverses of Carolina, far from having dejected the Americans, deve- 
 loped in them on the contrary a courage more active, and a con- 
 stancy more pertinacious. They could no longer be reproached 
 with that torpor which they had manifested in the preceding years, 
 with that apathy which had been the source of so much pain to their 
 chiefs, as of such heavy disasters to the republic. A new ardor in- 
 flamed every heart to fly to the succour of country ; there seemed a 
 rivalry for the glory of immolating all to the republic ; things looked 
 VOL. ii. 37 
 
286 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 as if the first days of the revolution were come back, when the same 
 spirit and the same zeal broke out on all parts against England. 
 Every where private interests were postponed to the public weal ; 
 every where it was exclaimed, * let us drive this cruel enemy from 
 the most fertile provinces of the union ; let us fly to the succour of 
 their inhabitants ; let us crush the satellites of England that have 
 some how escaped American steel, and terminate at a single blow a 
 war protracted too long.' Thus ill fortune had again tempered the 
 souls of this people, at the very moment when they were supposed 
 the victims of dejection and despair. Their fury was still quickened 
 by the devastations which the royal troops had recently committed 
 in Carolina and New Jersey. Their hope became confidence, on 
 observing that the consequences of the reduction of Charleston had 
 been to divide the enemy's forces, and to distribute them at so great 
 distances, that they might be attacked at every point with assurance 
 of success. And how were these hopes multiplied by the authentic 
 advice of the approaching arrival of French succours ! Already a 
 great number of Americans counted the conquest of New York as a 
 compensation of the occupation of Charleston. 
 
 The marquis de la Fayette was in effect just returned from France, 
 whence he had brought the most cheering intelligence. He an- 
 nounced that the troops were already embarked, and the ships that 
 bore them on the point of getting under sail for America. This 
 report might be depended on. The marquis de la Fayette had as- 
 certained it with his own eyes, after having exerted himself with 
 much zeal to accelerate the preparatives of the expedition. He was 
 warmly thanked for it by Washington and the Congress. His pre- 
 sence was grateful to the American people ; it redoubled, especially, 
 the ardor of the soldiers, who mutually incited one another, to show 
 themselves not unworthy of the allies they expected. They declared 
 aloud that an eternal reproach would be their portion, if through 
 a base apathy they should lose the glorious occasion about to be 
 offered them in this powerful cooperation of France. They remind- 
 ed each other that the eyes of all Europe were upon them, and that 
 on the issue of the present campaign depended the liberty, the glory, 
 the future destiny of the American republic. The Congress, all 
 the established authorities, and even private citizens of weight with 
 the multitude dexterously profited of this new enthusiasm ; they 
 neglected no means that could cherish and propagate it. The Con- 
 gress addressed circular letters to all the states earnestly exhorting 
 them to complete the regiments, and despatch to the army the con- 
 tingent that each of them was bound to furnish. These instances 
 were strongly seconded by generals Washington, Reed, and other 
 influential chiefs. 
 
 Their efforts had all the success desirable. The militia had recov- 
 ered their spirits, and they rejoined their colors from all quarters. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 2S7 
 
 The authority of Congress revived on every side, and acquired new 
 vigor. Sensible to the wants of the state, the capitalists subscribed 
 with promptitude considerable sums to the relief of the public trea- 
 sure, the exhaustion of which was then extreme. The city of Phi- 
 ladelphia first gave the example of these sacrifices ; it was not un- 
 fruitful. It was soon followed by all Pennsylvania and the other 
 provinces. The ladies of Philadelphia, animated by the most ardent 
 patriotism, formed a society, and placed at their head mistress Wash- 
 ington, a wife worthy of such a husband. After having subscribed 
 for the use of the state to the extent of their means, they went from 
 house to house to stimulate the liberality of the citizens in favor of 
 the republic. Their zeal was not steril ; they collected large sums 
 which they lodged in the public chest, to be used in bounties to such 
 soldiers as should merit them, and in augmentation of pay to all. 
 They were imitated with enthusiasm by the ladies of the other states. 
 But among all the institutions that signalised this epoch, none is more 
 worthy of attention, than the establishment of a public bank. The 
 funds lodged in it by the stockholders, by lenders, and by Congress, 
 might be employed to defray the army. The Congress found herein 
 not only a great facility on the part of the most wealthy commercial 
 houses of Philadelphia, but even received from them the most gene- 
 rous offers. The subscribers obligated themselves to furnish a capi- 
 tal of three hundred thousand pounds Pennsylvania currency, which 
 rates the Spanish dollar at seven shillings and sixpence. It was to 
 have two directors, with authority to borrow money upon the credit 
 of the bank for six months, or any shorter time, and to give the 
 lenders, bills bearing an interest of six per cent. The bank was to 
 receive the deposits of Congress ; that is, the public revenue accru- 
 ing from taxes or other sources ; but when these deposits and the 
 funds borrowed should not suffice, the stockholders were bound to 
 furnish such proportion as should be deemed necessary, of the sums 
 for which they might have subscribed. The sums obtained in the 
 different ways above mentioned, were not to be employed for any 
 other purpose but that of procuring supplies for the troops. The 
 stockholders were to appoint an agent, whose office it should be to 
 make purchases, and to transmit the articles bought, such as meat, 
 flour, rum, etc., to the cornmander-in-chief, or to the minister of 
 war ; this agent should have authority to draw upon the directors for 
 his payments. The said agent was also to keep open a store well 
 stocked with rum, sugar, coffee, salt and other articles of general 
 consumption, with obligation to sell them by retail at the same price 
 he should have bought them for in quantity of those with whom he 
 should have contracted for the supplies of the army, with a view of 
 being more promptly and better served by those contractors. Al- 
 though out of the bank, few lenders presented themselves, because 
 the greater- part before advancing their money, would have wished 
 
288 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 more stability in the state, yet subscribers were soon found for a 
 capital of three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds of Pennsylva- 
 nia. Each of them gave their written obligation to furnish the direc- 
 tors a definite sum in gold or silver coin. Thus, private citizens, 
 prompted by the most laudable zeal for the country, stepped forward 
 to support the public credit with their personal responsibility ; a con- 
 duct the more worthy of encomium, as the situation of affairs still 
 offered but too many motives of doubt and distrust. 
 
 Could it have been imagined, however, that at the very moment 
 when a victorious enemy still threatened the existence of their infant 
 republic, the Americans did not rest content with offering their blood 
 and their treasure for its defence ? Amidst the din of arms, they 
 were studious to accelerate the advancement of philosophy, science 
 and the arts. They reflected that without the succour of these 
 lights, war tends directly to barbarism, and even peace is deprived 
 of its most precious sweets. In devoting themselves to these noble 
 cares, they regarded not merely the advantages that were to redound 
 thence for the greater civilisation of their country ; they had also in 
 view to demonstrate at home and abroad, by this profound security, 
 in the midst of so many agitations, what was their contempt for the 
 danger, and their confidence in the success of their enterprise. Such 
 were the considerations under which the state of Massachusetts 
 founded at Boston a society, or academy of arts and sciences. Its 
 statutes corresponded to the importance of the institution. Its labors 
 were principally directed to facilitate and encourage a knowledge of 
 the antiquities and natural history of America ; to ascertain the uses 
 to which its native productions might be applied ; to promote medi- 
 cal discoveries, mathematical inquiries, physical researches and ex- 
 periments, astronomical, meteorological and geographical observa- 
 tions ; improvements in the processes of agriculture, arts, manufac- 
 tures and commerce ; the academy was, in brief, to cultivate every 
 art and science that could tend to advance, according to its own lan- 
 guage, the * interests, the honor, the dignity, and the happiness of a 
 free, independent and virtuous people.' On the fourth of July, after 
 having celebrated with the greatest solemnity the anniversary of in- 
 dependence, the president of Congress, the governor of the state of 
 Pennsylvania and the other authorities, both of the city and pro- 
 vince, as also the chevalier de la Luzerne, the minister of France, 
 repaired with no ordinary pomp to the university, to attend the col- 
 lation of degrees. The director of the studies delivered an address 
 well suited to the occasion. The generous spirit of the students 
 was fired with new ardor for their country ; all the audience shared 
 their enthusiasm, and drew from it the most felicitous presages. It 
 was amidst this general display of zeal and efforts to proceed with 
 honor in the chosen career, that the succours sent by France to the 
 support of her allies, made their appearance at Rhode Island. At 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAI1, 289 
 
 this sight, transports of exultation burst forth throughout the Ame- 
 rican continent. They consisted of a squadron of seven sail of the 
 line, among which was the due de Bourgogne, of eighty-four guns, 
 with five frigates and two corvettes, under the conduct of M. de 
 Tei-nay. This force convoyed a great number of transports, which 
 brought six thousand soldiers, at the orders of the count de Rocham- 
 beau, lieutenant-general of the armies of the king. According to 
 an agreement made between the court of Versailles and the Con- 
 gress, Washington, as captain-general, was to command in chief all 
 the troops, as well French as American. The king of France had 
 created him, to this intent, lieutenant-general of his armies, and vice- 
 admiral of his fleets. The inhabitants of Newport celebrated the 
 arrival of the French by a general illumination. General Heath 
 received them with every mark of welcome and courtesy. 
 
 It being rumored at that time that Clinton meditated an attack upon 
 Rhode Island, the French troops were put in possession of all the 
 forts. They fortified themselves therein with so much diligence, that 
 in a short time they were in a situation to defy the efforts of any 
 enemy whatsoever. 
 
 The general assembly of the state of Rhode Island sent a deputa- 
 tion to compliment the general of his most Christian majesty. They 
 said many things of the profound acknowledgment of America to- 
 wards that generous monarch. They promised on their part every 
 sort of aid and succour. The count de Rochambeau answered them 
 that the corps he had brought, was merely the vanguard of the army 
 which the king his master was about to send to their assistance. That 
 his majesty sincerely wished the liberty and happiness of America, 
 and that his troops should observe an exemplary discipline among 
 those whom they were to regard in the light of kindred. He con- 
 cluded with saying, that as brothers, he himself, his officers, and all 
 his people, had voluntarily devoted their lives to the service of the 
 Americans. 
 
 The presence and promises of the French general inspired all 
 hearts with courage and with hope ; but the partisans that England 
 had preserved in the country, were forced to disguise their rage. 
 Washington, the more to cement the union of the two nations, order- 
 ed that in the banners of his army, the ground of black, which is the 
 color of America, should be surrounded with white, the distinctive 
 color of France. 
 
 At this epoch, admiral Arbuthnot, who still occupied the New 
 York station, had with him only four ships of the line ; and, far from 
 contemplating an attack, was himself in dread of being attacked. A 
 few days after, however, admiral Graves arrived from England, with 
 six other sail of the line. This superiority of force decided the Eng- 
 lish to undertake an expedition against Rhode Island. Admiral 
 Graves repaired thither first with his squadron, to see if any mean 
 
290 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 would offer itself to destroy that of the enemy in the very harbor of 
 Newport ; but the French had made such imposing preparations of 
 defence, that, without temerity, nothing could be attempted against 
 them. The British squadron made the best of its way back to New 
 York. Meanwhile, general Clinton, being resolutely determined not 
 to suffer the French to establish themselves on a permanent footing 
 in that part, formed a design to attack Rhode Island with a picked 
 corps of six thousand men, that should disembark at some point the 
 most favorable to the enterprise. The admiral gave into the plan, 
 although to his private judgment, it presented little probability of suc- 
 cess. The British squadron got under sail, and already it had pro- 
 ceeded as far as Huntingdon bay, in Long Island, when Washington, 
 who watched all the movements of his adversary, began to stir. 
 Seeing general Clinton advance with so considerable a corps, and 
 finding himself, thanks to fresh reenforcements, at the head of twelve 
 thousand men, he descended by forced marches along the banks of the 
 Hudson. Arrived at Kings Bridge, he menaced to carry even the city 
 of New York, then disgarnished, and exposed almost without defence 
 to a coup de main. On the other hand, the militia of New England 
 had run to arms, panting to give the French, in the outset, a high 
 notion of their force and of their zeal. Already ten thousand men 
 were on the march towards Providence, and a still greater number 
 were preparing to follow them. The British generals were not long 
 in being apprised of all these movements, and found themselves still 
 more divided in opinion than before. These motives combined, de- 
 termined Clinton to relinquish his projects ; he returned without delay 
 to New York, with all his forces. The timidity manifested by the 
 English in this occurrence, was a fresh spur to the ardor of the Ame- 
 ricans. They already considered the garrison of New York as van- 
 quished, and within their grasp. They had, moreover, a particular 
 subject of encouragement. The French that were arrived in Rhode 
 Island, had brought an immense quantity of the coined money of their 
 country. According to the custom of the military of their nation, 
 they never lost any occasion of spending it to the last crown. It fol- 
 lowed, that in a short time French specie became so common in the 
 United States, as to restore some vigor to the body politic, which, 
 from the exhaustion of its finances, was become languid to a point 
 even almost threatening an absolute dissolution. The bills of credit, 
 it is true, experienced an increase of depression ; but this evil excited 
 no alarm. For a long time, this paper had lost all confidence, and 
 the state soon after relieved itself of it altogether, as will be seen in 
 the sequel of this history. 
 
 The various causes we have noticed, had generally infused new 
 life into the Americans of the different states ; but it is to be observ- 
 ed that they operated with more efficacy on the inhabitants of the 
 southern provinces. These were more immediately exposed to dan- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 291 
 
 ger, and they had besides, peculiar motives for detesting the inso- 
 lence of the English. Accordingly, as soon as the occasion was 
 offered them, they assembled upon different points of North Carolina, 
 and upon the extreme frontier of South Carolina. These assemblages, 
 commanded by daring chiefs, gave no little annoyance to the royal 
 troops. They insulted their posts, and sometimes, even carried them. 
 But among all the officers who distinguished themselves at the head 
 of these desultory parties, none appeared with more splendor than colo- 
 nel Sumpter. Born himself in South Carolina, his personal import- 
 ance, military talents and prowess, had rendered him there an object 
 of general consideration. The greater part of those Carolinians whom 
 their aversion to British domination had induced to fly from their 
 homes, had hastened to place themselves under the standard of their 
 intrepid fellow-citizen. They were already sufficiently numerous to 
 keep the field, and to menace the enemy upon all points. They had 
 no pay, no uniforms, nor even any certain means of subsistence ; they 
 lived upon what chance, or their own courage, provided them. They 
 experienced even a want of arms and munitions of war ; but they 
 made themselves rude weapons from the implements of husbandry ; 
 instead of balls of lead, they cast them of pewter, with the dishes 
 which the patriots cheerfully gave them for that purpose. These 
 resources, however, were very far from sufficing them. They were 
 seen, several times, to encounter the enemy with only three charges 
 of ammunition to a man. While the combat was engaged, some of 
 those who were destitute of arms or ammunition, kept themselves aside, 
 waiting till the death or wounds of their companions should permit 
 them to take their place. The most precious fruit, to their eyes, of 
 the advantages they gained over the English, was that of being ena- 
 bled to acquire muskets and cartridges at the expense of the van- 
 quished. At length, colonel Sumpter, finding himself at the head of 
 a numerous corps, attacked one of the most important positions of 
 the enemy, at Rocky Mount. He was repulsed, but not discouraged. 
 Never giving repose either to himself or to his adversaries, he fell, a 
 short time after, upon another British -post, at Hanging Rock, and 
 put to the edge of the sword all that defended it, regulars and loyal- 
 ists. He subjected to a similar fate colonel Bryan, who was come 
 from North Carolina with a body of loyalists of that province. In- 
 festing the enemy upon all points at once, he eluded all their efforts to 
 quell him. His invincible courage and perfect knowledge of the 
 country, offered him continually new resources. As rapid in his 
 attacks as industrious in his retreats, victor or vanquished, he escaped 
 all the snares of his foes. Colonel Williams served no less usefully 
 the same cause, at the head of a light detachment of Carolinians of 
 the district of Ninety-Six. In one of his frequent excursions he sur- 
 prised and cut in pieces a body of loyalists on the banks of the river 
 Ennoree. This partisan war had the double advantage of restoring 
 
292 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 confidence to the Americans, of continually mining the forces of the 
 English, and of supporting the party of Congress in these provinces. 
 These smart skirmishes were only, however, the prelude of the 
 bloody battles that were about to ensue between the principal armies. 
 
 As soon as Washington was first apprised of the siege of Charles- 
 ton, he had put on the march towards South Carolina a reenforce- 
 ment of fourteen hundred continental troops of Maryland and of 
 Delaware, under the conduct of the baron de Kalb. That officer 
 displayed great activity in the execution of his orders, and, if it had 
 been possible for him to gain the point of his destination, it is proba- 
 ble that things would have taken another direction. But the defect 
 of provision, the difficulty of places, and the excessive heat of the 
 season, opposed him with such and so many impediments, that he 
 could only progress step by step. It is related, that this detachment 
 had no other subsistence for many days than the cattle that were 
 found astray in the woods. Sometimes, finding themselves totally 
 destitute of flesh and flour, the soldiers were constrained to sustain 
 life with the grain of unripe wheat and such fish as they could pro- 
 cure ; they supported such hardships and distress with an heroic 
 constancy. In passing through Virginia, they were reenforced by 
 the militia of that province ; and, on their arrival at the banks of 
 Deep river, they made their junction with the troops of North Caro- 
 lina, commanded by general Caswell. These detachments combined 
 formed a corps of six thousand effective men ; a force so considera- 
 ble with respect to the United States, as to induce the Congress to 
 employ it without delay for the expulsion of the English from the 
 two Carolinas. Wishing to confide this operation to a man whose 
 name should exercise a happy influence, they made choice of 
 general Gates. The baron de Kalb was recalled ; as a stranger, 
 unacquainted with the country, and ignorant of the proper mode of 
 governing undisciplined militia, he could not retain the command. 
 
 General Gates arrived at the camp on Deep river the twenty-fifth 
 of July. He immediately reviewed the troops, to ascertain their 
 number and quality. He afterwards advanced upon the Pedee 
 river, which, in the lower parts, separates the northern from the 
 southern Carolina. The name and fortune of Gates produced so 
 favorable and so rapid an effect, that not only the militia flocked to 
 his standard, but also that munitions and provision abounded in his 
 camp. The general impulse was given. Already the inhabitants 
 of that tract of country which extends between the Pedee and Black 
 river, were in arms against the royal troops. Colonel Sumpter, 
 with a corps of infantry and light horse, incessantly harassed the left 
 of the English, in the hope of intercepting their communication with 
 Charleston ; his parties scoured all the environs. 
 
 As soon as general Gates was arrived upon the confines of South 
 Carolina, he issued a proclamation, by which he invited the inhabit- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 293 
 
 ants to join him in vindicating the rights of America. He promised 
 an entire amnesty, and remission of all penalty in favor of those from 
 whom the victors should have extorted oaths, excepting only such 
 individuals as should have exercised acts of barbarity or depredation 
 against the persons and property of their fellow-citizens. This pro- 
 clamation was not unfruitful ; not only the people ran to arms in 
 multitude to support the cause of Congress, but even the companies 
 levied in the province for the service of the king either revoked or 
 deserted. Strengthened by these accessions, colonel Sumpter be- 
 came every day a more formidable enemy for the English. While 
 Cornwallis was occupied at Charleston with the administration of 
 Carolina, lord Rawdon had taken the command of the troops can- 
 toned at Cambden and the adjacent country. He had directed 
 upon Georgetown a convoy of sick soldiers, under the escort of a 
 detachment of Carolinians, commanded by colonel Mills. About 
 the middle of the route, these militia mutined, and having seized their 
 officers, conducted them with the sick English to the camp of gene- 
 ral Gates. Colonel Lisle, one of those who had taken oath to the 
 king, gained over a battalion of militia that had been levied in the 
 name of Cornwallis, and led it entire to colonel Sumpter. The 
 latter who incessantly scoured the western bank of the Wateree, had 
 captured considerable convoys of munitions of war, rum and provi- 
 sion that had been sent from Charleston upon Cambden. There 
 had also fallen into his power at the same time, a great number of 
 sick, with the soldiers that formed their escort. Already the route 
 from Cambden to Ninety Six was invested by the republicans ; 
 and they began to show themselves in force upon that from Camb- 
 den to Charleston. Thus the affairs of the king in the Carolinas 
 began to assume an unfavorable aspect. Lord Rawdon, seeing so 
 lowering a tempest about to burst upon him, and destitute of suffi- 
 cient means to avert its effects, concentred what troops he had in 
 the vicinity of Cambden, and distributed his cantonments upon the 
 right bank of Lynches Creek. He hastened to give notice of his 
 critical position to lord Cornwallis. In the meantime, Gates appear- 
 ed with all his forces upon the other bank, and encamped in the 
 front of the enemy. There ensued very warm and frequent skirm- 
 ishes, with balanced success. The American general would have 
 desired a decisive action, and to profit of his superiority to attack 
 Jord Rawdon even in his quarters. But on examination, finding the 
 enemy's position too strong, he dropped the design. His conduct 
 appeared dictated by wisdom ; but at the same time, he let slip an 
 opportunity for gaining a signal advantage. If he had ascended by 
 forced marches to the source of the Lynche, he turned without 
 difficulty the left wing of lord Rawdon, and might even seize 
 Cambden on the rear of the British army ; this stroke would have 
 decided the fate of the campaign ; but either Gates did not see it, 
 VOL. ii. 38 
 
204 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 or was afraid to undertake it. A short time after, the British gene- 
 ral seeing his right menaced by a movement of the Americans, and 
 fearing for his magazines and hospital, abandoned the banks of 
 the Lynche, and fell back upon Cambden with all his troops. 
 His retreat was in no shape molested by the enemy. At that 
 very time lord Cornwallis arrived in camp. Having surveyed 
 the state of things, and finding to what a degree the forces and 
 audacity of the republicans were augmented, he detached numerous 
 parties on discovery, filled up the companies with the more vigorous 
 convalescents, ordered distributions of arms, and the remounting of 
 Tarleton's legion, which needed horses. Notwithstanding all his 
 efforts, he had not, however, been able to assemble above two thou- 
 sand men, of whom about fifteen hundred were veteran troops, the 
 rest loyalists and refugees. To attack with means so feeble an 
 enemy so superior, appeared little less than temerity. Cornwallis 
 might indeed have made his retreat to Charleston ; but in that case 
 he must have left about eight hundred sick, with a vast quantity of 
 valuable stores, to fall into the hands of the enemy. He likewise 
 foresaw, that excepting Charleston and Savannah, a retreat would 
 be attended with the loss of the two whole provinces of South Caro- 
 lina and Georgia. On the other hand, he observed, that the major 
 part of his army was composed of soldiers as perfectly equipped as 
 inured to war, and commanded by officers of approved valor and 
 ability. He saw in victory the entire reduction of the two Carolinas, 
 whereas even discomfiture could scarcely have worse consequences 
 than retreat. 
 
 Under these considerations, he determined not only to face the 
 enemy, but even to hazard a general action. Cambden, the centre 
 of the British line, not being a fortified place, and the boldest resolu- 
 tions being often also the most fortunate, Cornwallis would not await 
 the Americans in his cantonments. He formed a design to attack 
 the position of Rugeleys Mills, which the enemy occupied, with a 
 view of forcing him to an engagement. On the fifteenth of August, 
 all the royal troops were ordered to hold themselves in readiness to 
 march. About ten o'clock in the evening, the columns put them- 
 selves in motion for Rugeleys. The first commanded by colonel 
 Webster, consisted in light infantry and dragoons. The second, 
 under the conduct of lord Rawdon, was composed of Irish volun- 
 teers and loyalists. Two English battalions formed the reserve. In 
 the rear was the baggage and a detachment of grenadiers. The 
 English marched amid the obscurity of the night, in the most pro- 
 found silence. The columns passed the little stream of Saunder, 
 and had already left Cambden ten miles behind them. But while 
 the English were advancing upon Rugeleys Mills, the Americans 
 themselves had quitted that place, at ten o'clock, with intent to sur- 
 prise them. Gates and Cornwallis had both at once formed the 
 
BOOK XII. , THE AMERICAN WAR. 295 
 
 same design, the one against the other. The American van con- 
 sisted in the legion of cavalry of colonel Armand, flanked on the 
 right hy the light infantry of colonel Porterfield, and on the left by 
 the light infantry of major Armstrong. Next, marched the brigades 
 of Maryland regulars, with the militia of North Carolina and Vir- 
 ginia. The baggage followed the rear guard, formed of a numerous 
 corps of volunteers, with light horse at the two flanks. General 
 Gates had commanded his troops to march compact and in silence, 
 and not to fire without order. He had sent to Wacsaw, on his rear, 
 the sick, the unnecessary baggage, in a word, whatever might tend 
 to impede his march. So many precautions on both sides, indicated 
 that the two generals had mutually penetrated one the other. It was 
 yet only two in the morning, when the advanced guard of the British 
 army encountered the head of the first American column. It was 
 briskly repulsed by colonel Porterfield ; but that officer received a 
 serious wound. The English, supported by two regiments of infan- 
 try, charged the Americans in their turn. The action was engaged 
 with spirit, and the loss considerable on both sides ; but, all of 
 a sudden, equally fearing the hazard of a nocturnal conflict, the two 
 generals suspended the fire, and again the most profound silence 
 reigned in the midst of darkness ; the day was impatiently awaited. 
 
 Meanwhile, Cornwallis ascertained by the people of the country, 
 that the ground was as propitious to him as it was unfavorable to the 
 enemy. Gates, in effect, could not advance to the attack but through 
 a narrow way, bordered on either side by deep swamps. This cir- 
 cumstance, by depriving the Americans of the advantage of superior 
 number, reestablished an equality of forces. The British general 
 formed his plan of battle accordingly. By daylight he disposed the 
 front of his army in two divisions ; that of the right, commanded by 
 colonel Webster, had its right flank covered by a morass, and its left 
 supported upon the great road ; the other division under the conduct 
 of lord Rawdon had in like manner a morass on its left, while its 
 right was reunited by the highway to the corps of Webster. The 
 artillery was placed between the two divisions. A battalion drawn 
 up behind each, served them as a sort of rear guard. Tarleton's 
 legion was posted upon the right of the road, in readiness to attack 
 the enemy or receive him according to the occasion. The Ameri- 
 cans, on their part, made all the dispositions that appeared to them 
 the most suitable. Gates divided his vanguard in three columns. 
 That of the right, commanded by general Gist, having the morass on 
 its right, connected by its left upon the great road with the column 
 of the centre, composed of the North Carolina militia, led by general 
 Caswell. The column of the left comprised the militia of Virginia, 
 at the orders of general Stevens. Behind the Virginians were posted 
 the light infantry of Porterfield and Armstrong. Colonel Armand had 
 placed his cavalry behind the left, to face the legion of Tarleton. 
 
296 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 The continental troops of Maryland and Delaware formed the re- 
 serve. They were inured to war, and upon their valor rested the 
 chief hope of success. They were commanded by general Small- 
 wood. The artillery was placed in part upon the right of the conti- 
 nental troops, and in part upon the highway. 
 
 Such was the order of battle of the two armies ; when just as the 
 action was about to commence, Gates, not satisfied with the position 
 of the divisions of Caswell and Stevens, very imprudently ordered 
 them to change it for another which appeared to him better. Corn- 
 wallis at sight of this movement, resolved to profit of it instantly. 
 Accordingly, he ordered colonel Webster to advance and make a 
 vigorous attack upon Stevens, whose troops were still undulating, 
 from their not having yet been able to reform their ranks. Colonel 
 Webster obeyed with celerity. The battle thus commenced between 
 the right of the English and the left of the Americans; it soon be- 
 came general. The morning being still and hazy, the smoke hung 
 over and involved both armies in such a cloud that it was difficult to 
 see the state of destruction on either side. The British troops, 
 however, intermingling a quick and heavy fire with sharp charges at 
 the point .of the bayonet, evidently gained ground upon the Ameri- 
 cans. At length the Virginians, pressed by colonel Webster, and 
 already half broken by the unadvised movement directed by Gates, 
 after a feeble resistance, shamefully betook themselves to flight. 
 The Carolinian militia, finding themselves uncovered, soon began to 
 give way, and at last turned the back with a similar baseness. Their 
 officers attempted in vain to rally them ; they were themselves in- 
 volved in the rout. The left wing of the Americans was totally- 
 broken ; Gates and Caswell made some efforts to reform it ; but 
 Tarleton adroitly seized the decisive moment, and with a furious 
 charge, carried to its height the confusion and consternation of that 
 wing; all the troops that composed it threw themselves into the 
 neighboring woods. Their flight exposed the left flank of a Caroli- 
 nian regiment, and of the regulars of Maryland and Delaware, who 
 were already attacked in front. The right wing of the English, now 
 completely victorious, turned furiously upon the American centre. 
 This division defended themselves with the utmost gallantry ; if it 
 was not in their power to restore the fortune of the day, they saved 
 at least the honor of the republican standard. 
 
 Opposing the enemy with a terrible fire, or the push of their bayo- 
 nets, they withstood all his efforts. The baron de Kalb led them 
 several times to the charge ; and they even recovered lost ground. 
 But at length, surrounded on all sides, overwhelmed by number, and 
 penetrated by cavalry, they were constrained to abandon the field of 
 battle, but without having left a bloodless victory to their foes. 
 Pierced with eleven wounds, the baron de Kalb fell dying into the 
 power of the victors. The rout was general ; each provided for his 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 297 
 
 own safety. General Gist could rally no more than an hundred in- 
 fantry, and the dragoons of Annand. The British cavalry pursued 
 the vanquished with vehemence for the space of twenty-three miles, 
 and without halting, till exhaustion imposed the necessity of repose. 
 
 The loss of the Americans in this action was very considerable. 
 The number of the dead, wounded and prisoners, was estimated at 
 upwards of two thousand. Among the first was general Gregory, 
 and among the prisoners, the baron de Kalb, and general Rutherford, 
 of Carolina. Eight pieces of brass cannon, two thousand stand of 
 arms, several colors, with all the baggage and stores, fell into the 
 hands of the conqueror. The loss of the British in killed and 
 wounded amounted, including officers, only to three hundred and 
 twenty-four. 
 
 Three days after the battle, the baron de Kalb, perceiving the 
 approach of death, requested his aid-de-camp, the chevalier Dubuis- 
 son, 'to express in his name to generals Gist and Small wood, his high 
 sense of the valor displayed in the battle of Carnbden by the regular 
 troops of Maryland and Delaware. He spent his last breath in declar- 
 ing; the satisfaction which he then felt in having fallen in the defence 
 of a cause so noble, and, to him, so dear. The Congress ordered 
 that a monument should be erected him at the city of Annapolis, the 
 capital of Maryland. 
 
 General Gates was reproached with several grave errors. The 
 least excusable was doubtless that of having undertaken to change 
 his order of battle in presence of the enemy. Perhaps he was also 
 in fault to march in the night unwarlike militia, who knew not even 
 how to keep their ranks. He retreated to Hillsborough, in North 
 Carolina. Generals Gist and Smallvvood fell back upon Charlotte- 
 town, and afterwards upon Salisbury, where they endeavored to rally 
 the fugitives and to reorganise their divisions ; but the cause of Eng- 
 land triumphed throughout the province of South Carolina ; the 
 banners of the republic no longer waved in any part of it. Colonel 
 Sumpter alone continued to show himself upon the banks of the 
 Wateree, with a corps of about a thousand men, and two field pieces. 
 But on the news of the late discomfiture of Gates, he retired 
 promptly towards the fords of Catawba, in the upper parts of North 
 Carolina. Lord Cornwallis, a man of great activity, reflecting that 
 his advantages were insecure till he should have destroyed this last 
 body of republicans, detached colonel Tarleton in pursuit of it. The 
 latter, moving with his accustomed celerity, fell unexpectedly upon 
 the position of Sumpter, who had thought he might take some re- 
 pose on the banks of Fishing Creek. Tarleton surprised him so 
 completely, that his men, lying totally careless and at ease, were 
 mostly cut off from their arms. Their only resource was in a prompt 
 flight ; but a great number fell into the hands of the enemy, who 
 slaughtered them after they had surrendered. Tarleton alleged 
 
THE AMERICAN VVAK. BOOK XII. 
 
 that he could not grant them life, because his whole party was not 
 equal in number to one third of Sumpter's. At length the carnage 
 ceased, when the English and loyalists that were detained prisoners 
 in the rear of Sumpter's position had been liberated. The cannon, 
 stores and baggage, were the prey of the victors. Colonel Surnpter, 
 with a few of his followers, made good their escape. The disaster 
 of his corps could not be imputed to him ; he had not omitted to 
 send out scouts upon the direction of the enemy, but that service 
 was acquitted with an unpardonable negligence. Tarleton returned 
 to Cambden the third day, with his prisoners, booty, and the loyalists 
 he had retaken. 
 
 After the battle of Cambden, Cornwallis, in order not to lose by 
 his tardiness the fruits of victory, could have wished to advance imme- 
 diately into North Carolina, a feeble province, and very ill disposed 
 towards the Congress. Thence he could march to the conquest of 
 Virginia. Unquestionably, the presence of the victorious army in that 
 part would have dispersed the relics of the vanquished, prevented 
 their rallying anew, and encouraged the friends of the royal caus*e 
 to show themselves, and even to act. But the British general en- 
 countered divers obstacles that opposed the execution of this plan. 
 The heat of the season was excessive, the climate unhealthy, and the 
 hospitals were encumbered with wounded and sick. The necessaries 
 for encampment were almost entirely wanting ; there was not a single 
 magazine upon the frontiers of the Carolinas ; and North Carolina 
 could furnish but very little provision. Yielding to these considera- 
 tions, Cornwallis relinquished all ulterior operation, distributed his 
 troops in cantonments, and returned to Charleston. He thought 
 himself sure at least of the submission of all South Carolina and of 
 the not distant conquest of North, as soon as the season and the state 
 of his magazines should favor the enterprise. In the meantime, he 
 wrote frequently to the friends of royalty in North Carolina, exhort- 
 ing them to take arms, to assemble in force, and to make themselves 
 masters of the most ardent republicans with their munitions and 
 magazines. He counselled them even to sfeize the fugitives and 
 stragglers of the rebel army. He promised them, that it should not 
 be long before he marched to their assistance. And to inspire them 
 with confidence in his words, even before he could move with his 
 whole army, he detached major Ferguson, an able and enterprising- 
 partisan, upon the western frontiers of North Carolina. He had 
 under his command a thousand loyalists and a oorps of cavalry. His 
 mission was to encourage by his presence the enemies of the revolu- 
 tion, and especially to open a correspondence with the inhabitants of 
 Tryon county, who, more than the others, showed themselves attach- 
 ed to the name of England. 
 
 Unable to operate in the field, Cornwallis turned his attention to- 
 wards the internal administration, in order to consolidate the acqui- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 299 
 
 sition of South Carolina. Resolved to have recourse to extreme 
 remedies for terminating the crisis in which that province found itself, 
 he purposed to spread terror among the republicans by the rigor of 
 punishment, and to deprive them of the means to do harm, by depriv- 
 ing them of the means to subsist. Accordingly, he addressed orders 
 to all the British commanders, that without any delay they should 
 cause to be hung all those individuals, who, after having served in the 
 militia levied by the king, had gone over to the rebels ; that they 
 should punish with imprisonment and confiscation those, who, having 
 submitted at first, had taken part in the last rebellion, to the end that 
 their effects might be applied to indemnify those subjects whom they 
 should have oppressed or despoiled. It cannot be denied, that if it 
 was possible to excuse such severity towards those who had exchang- 
 ed the condition of prisoners of war for that of British subjects, it was 
 worthy of an eternal blame in respect to those who had wished to 
 remain in the first of these conditions. In effect, had they not been 
 released from their parole by the authentic proclamation of Cornwal- 
 lis himself, under date of the third of June ? But victors, too often, 
 by vain subtiities, or even without deigning to have recourse to them, 
 especially in political convulsions, make sport of violating their faith, 
 as if it were a necessity for them to add to the evils inseparable from 
 war, all the vexations of perfidy ! However this might be, and how- 
 ever rigorous were the orders of Cornwallis, they were every where 
 punctually executed. Carolina was become a theatre of proscrip- 
 tions. Several British officers openly testified their abhorrence of 
 this reign of blood ; but the greater part, and Tarleton more than any 
 other, commended it without shame, as useful and necessary to the 
 success of the royal cause. Already Tarleton had complained bit- 
 terly of the clemency, as he called it, exercised by Cornwallis prior 
 to the battle of Cambden ; this clemency, he said, was not only good 
 for nothing, but also prejudicial in every thing, since it rendered 
 friends less hearty, and enemies more audacious. This reproach 
 would certainly have been founded, if it were true that in war utility 
 alone deserves regard, and that nothing is due to humanity, good 
 faith and justice. Nobody denies, for example, that to poison springs, 
 massacre all the prisoners that can be taken, bring off into slavery all 
 the inhabitants of a country, without distinction of age or sex, and 
 without regard for the law of nations, might sometimes have a useful 
 tendency. We see, nevertheless, that in all time, civilised nations, 
 and conquerors not entirely barbarous, have abstained from these 
 horrible extremities. But in the present occurrence, the English 
 showed themselves without pity for the most respectable men of the 
 country. The inhabitants of Cambden, of Ninety Six, of Augusta, 
 and other places, saw inhumanly gibbeted men, whose only crime 
 was that of having been too faithful to a cause which they considered 
 as that of their country and of justice. 
 
300 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 All minds were penetrated with horror ; all hearts were inflamed 
 with an implacable and never dying hatred against such ferocious 
 victors. A cry of vengeance resounded amidst this exasperated 
 people ; all detested a king who had devoted them to the oppression of 
 these brutal executors of his will. His standard became an object of 
 execration. The British generals learned by cruel experience, that 
 executions and despair are frail securities for the submission of a 
 people planted in distant regions, actuated by a common opinion, and 
 embarked with passion in a generous enterprise. Nor were these 
 the only rigors which Cornwallis thought it expedient to exercise, in 
 order to confirm the possession of the provinces conquered by his 
 arms. To complete the reduction of the patriots, he employed 
 arrests and sequestrations. He feared that the presence in Charles- 
 ton of the leading men, who, persevering in their character of prison- 
 ers of war, had refused to accept that of subjects, might tend to keep 
 alive a spirit of resistance. He likewise learned, as the British writers 
 affirm, that these prisoners had maintained a secret correspondence 
 with the enemies of the English name, the proofs of which had been 
 found in the baggage of the American generals captured at the battle 
 ofCambden. These motives appeared to him sufficient to justify 
 the seizure and imprisonment at St. Augustin, in East Florida, of 
 more than thirty of the most influential chiefs of the American party. 
 They were all of the number of those who had taken the most active 
 part in the organisation of the republican government, and who had 
 shown themselves the most ardent partisans of the present war. Then 
 desirous to prevent those who were, or whom he believed, opposed 
 to Great Britain, from assisting the Congress with their pecuniary 
 means, or with a hope to constrain them to submission, he issued a 
 proclamation purporting the sequestration of the possessions of who- 
 ever should hold correspondence with the Congress, act in its name, 
 join the enemies of England, or excite the people to revolt by word 
 or deed. He constituted at the same time, a commissioner over 
 sequestrated estates, with obligation to account to the families of the 
 forfeited for a part of their nett revenue ; a fourth to those consisting 
 of a wife and children, and a sixth to wives without children. A 
 clause required, however, that these families should reside in the 
 province. These different measures, combined with a rigorous watch- 
 fulness over the movements of the suspected, appeared to the English 
 a sure guaranty for the return of tranquillity and obedience in the 
 province of South Carolina. And as to North Carolina, it could no 
 longer hope to resist them when the weather became temperate, and 
 the harvests were over. We shall see, in the course of this history, 
 how far these hopes were confirmed by the event. 
 
 Whilst the season had caused the suspension of hostilities in the 
 two Carolinas, and while, in the state of New York, the superiority 
 of the Americans by land, and that of the English by sea, had occa- 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 301 
 
 sioned a similar cessation of arms, an unexpected event arrested the 
 general attention. During some time a design had been maturing 
 in the shades of mystery, vvtiose execution, had it succeeded to the 
 wish of its authors, would have involved the total ruin of the army of 
 Washington, and, perhaps, the entire subjugation of America. A single 
 instant more, and the work of so many years, cemented at such a cost 
 of gold and blood, might have been demolished to its foundations by 
 a cause altogether unthought of. The English had well nigh arrived 
 by means of treason, at that object which with five years of intrigues 
 and of combats they had not been able to attain ; and it was even at 
 the hands of the man they least suspected, that the Americans were 
 to have received the most fatal blow. They had but too manifest a 
 proof that no confidence can be placed in courage- when disunited 
 from virtue. They learned that men who displayed the most enthu- 
 siasm for a cause, are often also those who become the soonest 
 unfaithful ; and that an insatiable thirst of pelf, coupled with mad pro- 
 digalities, easily conduct the ambitious spendthrift to barter basely for 
 gold even the safety of his country. Private virtues are incontesta- 
 bly the original and only basis of public integrity ; and it should never 
 be forgotten, that the man without morals, who arrives at the first 
 offices of the republic, has no other object but to satiate his ambition 
 or his cupidity, at the expense of his fellow-citizens. If he encounter 
 obstacles, he is ripe for deeds of violence within, and treason with- 
 out. The name of general Arnold was deservedly dear to all the 
 Americans ; they considered him as one of their most intrepid de- 
 fenders. Numerous wounds, and especially that which had almost 
 deprived him of the use of one leg, had forced him to take repose at 
 his seat in the country. 
 
 The Congress, with the concurrence of Washington, in recom- 
 pense for his services, appointed him commandant of Philadelphia, 
 immediately after that city was evacuated by the English, and return- 
 ed under American domination. Here Arnold lived at an enormous 
 expense, and showed himself extremely grasping in order to support 
 it. He had established himself in the house of Penn, and had fur- 
 nished it in the most sumptuous manner. His play, his table, his 
 balls, his concerts, his banquets, would have exhausted the most im- 
 mense fortune. His own, and the emoluments of his employment, 
 bein* far from sufficient to defray such extravagance, he had betaken 
 himself to commerce and privateering. His speculations proved 
 unfortunate ; his debts accumulated, his creditors tormented him. 
 His boundless arrogance revolted at so many embarrassments ; yet 
 he would diminish nothing of this princely state. Under these cir- 
 cumstances, he conceived the shameful idea of reimbursing himself 
 from the public treasure for all he had squandered in riotous living. 
 Accordingly, he presented accounts more worthy of a shameless 
 usurer than of a general. The government, astonished and indig- 
 VOL. n. 30 
 
302 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK. XII, 
 
 nant, appointed commissioners to investigate them. They refused 
 not merely to approve them ; they reduced the claims of Arnold to 
 half. Enraged at their decision, he loaded them with reproaches and 
 insults, and appealed from it to the Congress. Several of its memhers 
 were charged to examine these accounts anew, and to make report. 
 They declared that the commissioners had allowed Arnold more than 
 he had any right to demand. His wrath no longer observed measure ; 
 the Congress itself became the object of the most indecent invectives 
 that ever fell from a man in high station. This conduct, far from 
 restoring tranquillity, produced a quite contrary effect. That spirit 
 of order for which the Americans are distinguished, did not permit 
 them to quit thus an affair already in progress. Arnold was accused 
 of peculation by the state of Pennsylvania, and brought before a court 
 martial to take his trial. Among the charges laid against him, he 
 was accused of having converted to his own use the British merchan- 
 dise he had found and confiscated at Philadelphia, in 1778; as also 
 of having employed the public carnages for the service of different 
 private individuals, and especially for his own and that of his associ- 
 ates in the commerce of New Jersey. The court sentenced him to 
 be reprimanded by Washington. This sentence neither satisfied the 
 accused nor the accusers. The latter exclaimed that more regard 
 had been shown to the past services of Arnold than for justice ; the 
 former broke into bitter complaints of the iniquity of his judges and 
 ingratitude of tiis country. His pride could not brook so public a 
 disgrace ; he had seen himself the idol of his fellow-citizens, and he 
 was now become the object of their contempt, if not hatred. In 
 the blindness of his vengeance, and in the hope that he might still 
 glut his passion with British gold, since he no longer could with Ame- 
 rican, he resolved to add perfidy to avidity, and treason to pillage. 
 Determined that his country should resume the yoke of England, he 
 developed his projects in a letter which he addressed to colonel Ro- 
 binson. General Clinton was immediately made acquainted with its 
 contents. He committed this secret negotiation to major Andre, his 
 aid-de-camp, a young man as distinguished for the suavity of his 
 manners and the gentleness of his temper, as for the singular comeli- 
 ness of his person. Arnold and Andre corresponded together under 
 the assumed names of Gustavus and Anderson. The American 
 general was promised a corresponding rank in the British army, and 
 considerable sums of gold. He, on his part, engaged to render the 
 king some signal service. The consequence of this understanding 
 was a demand that West Point should be given up to the royal troops. 
 That fortress, situated upon the western bank of the Hudson, is of 
 extreme importance, in that it defends the passage of the mountains 
 in the upper part of the river. Accordingly, the Americans had been 
 at such pains and expense to render it impregnable, that it was called 
 with reason the Gibraltar of America. Into this all important citadel. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 303 
 
 Arnold formally pledged himself to introduce the English. Hence, 
 pretending to have taken an aversion to the residence of Philadel- 
 phia, and that he wished to resume an active service in the army, he 
 requested and obtained the command of West Point, and of all the 
 American troops cantoned in that quarter. But his plan embraced 
 more than the mere delivery of the fortress; he purposed so to scat- 
 ter his forces in the environs, that Clinton might easily fall upon them 
 by surprise, and cut them off at the same stroke. Masters of West 
 Point, and having no more enemies before them, the English would 
 then have marched rapidly against Washington, who had distributed 
 his troops upon the two banks of the Hudson ; their destruction must 
 have been total and inevitable. Thus, therefore, besides West Point, 
 and those passes which had been so often disputed, and for which the 
 British government had undertaken the fatal expedition of Burgoyne, 
 the Americans would have lost their whole arrny, their artillery, their 
 munitions of war, and their best officers. May it not even be con- 
 jectured that, if the English shauld have profited of the confusion and 
 consternation which could not fail to have resulted from so sudden a 
 catastrophe, the United States would have found themselves necessi- 
 tated to receive the law of the conqueror ? 
 
 About the middle of September, Washington had been called to 
 Hartford, in Connecticut, upon some affairs which required his pre- 
 sence. The conspirators considered the occasion propitious for the 
 accomplishment of their designs. It was agreed mat, in order to 
 concert more particularly the last measures, major Andre should 
 repair secretly to the presence of Arnold. Accordingly, in the night 
 of the twenty-first of September, he landed from the Vulture sloop 
 of war, which already long since Clinton had stationed up the river 
 not far from West Point, to facilitate the correspondence between 
 the two parties. Arnold and Andre passed the whole night in con- 
 ference. The day having dawned before all their dispositions were 
 concluded, the British afd-de-camp was concealed in a secure place. 
 The following night, he wished to regain the Vulture ; but the boat- 
 men would not convey him thither, because the excess of his pre- 
 cautions had inspired them with some distrust. He was obliged to 
 take the way of the land. Arnold gave him a horse and a passport 
 under the name of Anderson. Until then he had worn the British 
 uniform under a riding coat ; he threw it off, and took a common 
 dress, though, it is said, much against his will, and at the earnest 
 importunity of Arnold. He had already safely passed the American 
 guards and outposts, and might reasonably hope to arrive without 
 obstacle at New York ; but fate had reserved a different issue for 
 the infamous perfidy of Arnold ; and the generous devotion of major 
 Andre towards his country.. 
 
 As he was going through Tarrytown, a village situated in the 
 vicinity of the first British posts, three soldiers of the militia, who 
 
304 TUE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 happened lo be there, threw themselves across his passage. He 
 showed them his passport ; they suffered him to continue his route. 
 All of a sudden, one of these three men, more distrustful than his 
 comrades, thought he had observed something particular in the person 
 of the traveller ; he called him back. Andre asked them where 
 they were from. 'From down below,' they replied, intending to 
 say from New York. The young man, too frank to suspect a snare, 
 immediately answered, ' and so am 1.' They arrest him. He then 
 declared himself, for what he was, a British officer. He offered all 
 the gold he had with him, a valuable watch, rewards and rank in the 
 British army, as the price of his release ; all his efforts were vain. 
 John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van Wert, such were the 
 names of the three soldiers, were found incorruptible ; a disinterest- 
 edness the more worthy of eulogium, as they were poor and obscure. 
 Thus in the very moment when one of the most distinguished chiefs 
 of the American army, a man celebrated throughout the world for 
 his brilliant exploits, betrayed out of a base vengeance the country 
 he had served, and sold it for a purse of gold, three common soldiers 
 preferred the honest to the useful, and fidelity to fortune. They 
 diligently searched their prisoner, and found in his boots several 
 papers written by the hand of Arnold himself, containing the most 
 detailed information with respect to the positions of the Americans, 
 their munitions, the garrison of West Point, and the most suitable 
 mode of directing an attack against that fortress. Major Andre was 
 conducted before the officer who commanded the advanced posts. 
 Afraid of hurting Arnold by an immediate disclosure of his true 
 character, and braving the danger of being instantly put to death as 
 a spy, if it should be discovered that he had concealed his real name, 
 he persisted in affirming that he was Anderson, as indicated by his 
 passport. The American officer was at a loss what to decide ; he 
 could not persuade himself that his general, after having so often 
 shed his blood for the country, was now resolved to betray it. These 
 hesitations, the negations of Andre, the distance at which Washington, 
 and even Arnold, found themselves, gave the latter time to escape. 
 As soon as he heard that Andre was arrested, he threw himself into 
 a boat and hastened on board the Vulture. The news of this event 
 excited universal amazement. The people could scarcely credit the 
 treachery of a man in whom they had so long placed the utmost 
 confidence. The peril they had run filled them with consternation ; 
 the happy chance which had rescued them from it, appeared a 
 prodigy. ' God,' they said, * has not permitted that men of honor 
 should be victims of perfidy ; it is his almighty hand that has saved 
 us ; he approves and protects the cause of America.' Maledictions 
 were heaped upon Arnold, praises upon those who had arrested 
 Andre. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 305 
 
 Meanwhile, Washington returned from Connecticut to his camp. 
 Suspecting, first of all, that the plot might have more extensive rami- 
 fications, and not knowing on what individuals to fix his eye, he 
 busied himself in taking the most prompt and efficacious measures 
 to baffle their pernicious designs. He feared also lest the contagion 
 of example might incite even those who were strangers to the con- 
 spiracy to entertain rash desires for a new order of things. He 
 knew that the way once cleared by some audacious individuals, the 
 multitude are but too apt to hurry blindly after them. These appre- 
 hensions offered themselves the more naturally to his mind, as the 
 pay of his troops was considerably in arrear, and as they were in 
 want of many of the necessaries not only of war, but even of life. 
 The precautions of the commander-in-chief were fortunately super- 
 fluous. Nobody stirred ; nothing led to the presumption of Arnold's 
 having had accomplices. 
 
 When major Andre, from the time elapsed, could infer that 
 Arnold must be in safety, he revealed his name and rank. He 
 appeared less solicitous about his safety, than to prove that he was 
 neither an impostor nor a spy. He endeavored to refute the ap- 
 pearances which seemed to depose against him. He affirmed that 
 his intention had been merely to come and confer, upon neutral 
 ground, with a person designated by his general ; but that thence he 
 had been trepanned and drawn within the American lines. From 
 that moment, he added, none of his steps could be imputed to his 
 default, since he then found himself in the power of others. Wash- 
 ington, meanwhile, created a court martial ; among its members, 
 besides many of the most distinguished American officers, were the 
 marquis de la Fayette and the baron de Steuben. Major Andre 
 appeared before his judges ; they were specially charged to investi- 
 gate and define the nature of the offence, and the punishment it 
 involved, according to the laws of war. The demeanor of the young 
 Englishman was equally remote from arrogance and from meanness. 
 His blooming years, the ingenuous cast of his features, the mild ele- 
 gance of his manners, had conciliated him an interest in every heart. 
 
 In the meantime, Arnold, beirfg safely arrived on board the Vul- 
 ture, immediately wrote a letter to Washington. He impudently 
 declared in it that it was the same patriotism of which he had never 
 ceased to give proofs since the origin of the contest, which had now 
 prescribed him his present step, whatever men might think of it, 
 always so ill judges of the actions of others. He added, that he 
 asked nothing for himself, having already but too much experience 
 of the ingratitude of his country, but that he prayed and conjured 
 the commander-in-chief to have the goodness to preserve his wife 
 from the insults of an irritated people, by sending her to Philadelphia 
 among her friends, or by permitting her to come and rejoin him at 
 New York. This letter was followed by a despatch from colonel 
 
306 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 Robinson, likewise dated on board the Vulture. He earnestly 
 demanded that major Andre should be released, urging in his 
 defence, that he had gone ashore on public business and under the 
 protection of a flag, as well by the invitation of Arnold as by the 
 command of his own general ; that he was the bearer of a regular 
 passport for his return to New York ; that all his doings during the 
 time he had passed with the Americans, and especially the change 
 of his dress and name, had been dictated by the will of Arnold. 
 The colonel concluded with alleging that the major could no longer 
 be detained without a violation of the sanctity of flags and a con- 
 tempt for all the laws of war as they are acknowledged and practised 
 by all nations. General Clinton wrote in much the same style in 
 favor of Andre. In the letter of that general was enclosed a second 
 from Arnold ; its language could not pretend to the merit of reserve. 
 He insisted that in his character of American general, he was invest- 
 ed with the right to grant Andre the usual privilege of flags, that he 
 might approach in safety to confer with him ; and that in sending 
 him back, he was competent to choose any way he thought the most 
 proper. But major Andre betrayed less anxiety respecting his fate 
 than was manifested in his behalf by his countrymen and friends. 
 Naturally averse from all falsehood, from all subterfuge, desirous, if 
 he must part with life, to preserve it at least pure and spotless to his 
 last hour, he confessed ingenuously that he had by no means come 
 under the protection of a flag ; adding, that if he had come so 
 accompanied, he should certainly have returned under the same 
 escort. His language manifested an extreme attention to avoid 
 imputing fault to any ; abjuring, on the contrary, all dissimulation in 
 regard to what concerned him personally, he often avowed more than 
 was questioned him ; so much generosity and constancy were univer- 
 sally admired. The fate of this unfortunate young man wrung tears 
 of compassion even from his judges. All would have wished to 
 save him, but the fact was too notorious. The court martial, on the 
 ground of his own confession, pronounced that he was, and ought to 
 be considered as a spy, and as such to be punished with death. 
 Washington notified this sentence to Clinton, in the answer to his 
 letter. He recapitulated all the circumstances of the offence, invit- 
 ing him to observe, that although they were of a nature to justify 
 towards major Andre the summary proceedings usual in the case of 
 spies, still he had preferred to act in respect of him with more 
 deliberation and scruple ; that it was therefore not without a perfect 
 knowledge of the cause that the court martial had passed the judg- 
 ment of which he apprised him. But Clinton, half delirious with 
 anguish at the destiny of Andre, whom he loved with the utmost 
 tenderness, did not restrict himself to the efforts he had alre.ady 
 made to preserve him. He again wrote to Washington, praying him 
 to consent to a conference between several delegates of the two 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 307 
 
 parties, in order to throw all the light possible upon so dubious an affair. 
 Washington complied with the proposal 5 he sent general Greene to 
 Dobbs Ferry, where he was met by general Robertson on the part of 
 the English. The latter exerted himself with extreme earnestness 
 to prove that Andre could not be considered as a spy. He repeated 
 the arguments already advanced of the privilege of flags, and of the 
 necessity that controlled the actions of Andre while he was in the 
 power of Arnold. But perceiving that his reasoning produced no 
 effect, he endeavored to persuade by the voice of humanity ; he 
 alleged the essential importance of mitigating by generous counsels the 
 rigors of war ; he extolled the clemency of general Clinton, who 
 had never put to death any of those persons who had violated the 
 laws of war ; he reminded, that major Andre was particularly dear to 
 the general-in-chief, and that if he might be permitted to reconduct 
 him to New York, any American, of whatever crime accused, and 
 now in the power of the English, should be immediately set at liberty. 
 He made still another proposition ; and that was, to suspend the exe- 
 cution of the judgment, and to refer the affair to the decision of two 
 officers familiar alike with the laws of war and of nations, such as the 
 generals Knyphausen and Rochambeau. Finally, general Robert- 
 son presented a letter from Arnold, directed to Washington, by 
 which he endeavored to exculpate the British prisoner, and to take 
 all the blame of his conduct upon himself. He did not retire till 
 after having threatened the most terrible retaliations, if the sentence 
 of the court martial was executed ; he declared in particular, that 
 the rebels of Carolina, whose life general Clinton had hitherto gene- 
 rously spared, should be immediately punished with death. The 
 interposition of Arnold could not but tend to the prejudice of Andre; 
 and even if the Americans had been inclined to clemency, his letter 
 would have sufficed to divert them from it. The conference had 
 no effect. 
 
 Meanwhile, the young Englishman prepared himself for death. 
 He manifested at its approach, not that contempt which is often no 
 other than dissimulation, or brutishness ; nor yet that weakness 
 which is peculiar to effeminate, or guilty men, but that firmness 
 which is the noble characteristic of the virtuous and brave. He re- 
 gretted life, but he sighed still deeper at the manner of losing it. He 
 could have wished to die as a soldier, that is to be shot ; but he was 
 doomed to the punishment of spies and malefactors, to the infamous 
 death of the halter. This idea struck him with horror; he painted 
 it with force to the court martial. It made him no answer, not will- 
 ing to grant his request, and esteeming it a cruelty to refuse it ex- 
 pressly. Two other causes of despair increased the anguish of the 
 unhappy youth. One was the fear that his death would reduce to 
 indigence and wretchedness a mother and three sisters, whom he 
 tenderly loved ; and whom he supported with his pay ; the second, 
 
308 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 lest the public voice should accuse Clinton of having precipitated 
 him, by his orders, into his present dreadful situation. He could not 
 think, without the most bitter regrets, that his death might be laid to 
 the charge of that man, whom he loved and respected the most. 
 He obtained permission to write to him ; he used it but to recom- 
 mend to his protection his unhappy mother and sisters, and to bear 
 testimony that it was not only against his intentions, but even against 
 his positive orders, that he had introduced himself into the camp of 
 the Americans, and had assumed a disguise. The second day of 
 October was destined to be the last of his existence. Brought to the 
 foot of the gibbet, he said ; and must I die thus? He was answer- 
 ed, that it could not be otherwise. He did not dissemble his pro- 
 found grief. At length, after having past a few moments in prayer, 
 he pronounced these words, which were his last ; ' bear witness that 
 I die as a brave man should die.' Such was the just, but melan- 
 choly end of a young man deserving in so many respects of a better 
 destiny. It cast a damp of sadness over enemies as well as friends. 
 Arnold gnashed with rage, if, however, that polluted soul was still 
 capable of remorse. The English themselves eyed him with abhor- 
 rence, both as traitor, and as original cause of the death of the 
 hapless Andre. In policy, nevertheless, any instrument being thought 
 good provided it serves the end proposed, Arnold was created briga- 
 dier-general in the British armies. Clinton hoped that the name 
 and influence of this renegade would induce a great number of the 
 Americans to join the royal standard. Arnold at least was well 
 aware, that since he had abandoned them, he could not show too 
 much fervor for the cause of England. And such being the irresist- 
 ible ascendant of virtue, that even the most depraved are forced to 
 assume its semblance, he thought fit to publish a memorial, by which 
 he hoped to mask his infamy. He alleged that in the commence- 
 ment of the troubles, he had taken arms because he believed the 
 rights of his country were infringed ; that he had given into the 
 declaration of independence, although he had thought it ill timed ; 
 but that when Great Britain, like a relenting and tender mother, had 
 extended her arms to embrace them, offering them the most just 
 and the most honorable conditions, the refusal of the insurgents, and 
 especially their alliance with France, had entirely changed the nature 
 of the quarrel, and transformed a glorious cause into a criminal 
 revolt ; that ever since that epoch he had been desirous to resume 
 the relations of ancient allegiance towards England. He declaimed 
 with violence against the Congress ; he painted in the most odious 
 colors its tyranny and avarice. j he railed against the union with 
 France, affecting a profound grief that the dearest interests of the 
 country had thus been sacrificed to an arrogant, inveterate and per- 
 fidious enemy. He represented France as too feeble to establish 
 independence, as the bitterest foe of the protestant faith, as deceitfully 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 309 
 
 pretending a zeal for the liberty of the human race, while she held 
 her own children in vassalage and servitude. Arnold finished 
 with declaring, that he had so long delayed the disclosure of his 
 sentiments, from a wish, by some important service, to effect the 
 deliverance of his country, and at the same time to avoid as much 
 as possible the effusion of blood. He addressed this memorial to 
 his countrymen in general. A few days after, he published another, 
 directed to the officers and soldiers of the American army. He 
 exhorted them to come and place themselves under the banners 
 of the king, where they would find promotion and increase of pay. 
 He vaunted of wishing to conduct the flower of the American nation 
 to peace, liberty and safety ; to rescue the country from the hands 
 of France, and of those who had brought it to the brink of perdi- 
 tion. He affirmed that America was become a prey to avarice, an 
 object of scorn for her enemies, and of pity for her friends ; that 
 she had exchanged her liberty for oppression. He represented the 
 citizens thrust into dungeons, despoiled of their property ; the youth 
 dragged to war, blood streaming in torrents. ' What,' he exclaimed, 
 ' is America now, but a land of widows, orphans and beggars ? If 
 England were to cease her efforts for her deliverance, how could 
 she hope to enjoy the exercise of that religion for which our fathers 
 once braved ocean, climate and deserts ? Has not the abject and 
 profligate Congress been seen of late to attend mass, and to partici- 
 pate in the ceremonies of an antichristian church, against the cor- 
 ruptions of which our piows ancestors would have borne testimony 
 at the price of their blood ?' These declamations of a traitor proved 
 the more fruitless the more they were insolent and exaggerated. 
 America, moreover, had writers who stepped forward to refute them, 
 in a style as animated as the reasoning was triumphant. They 
 observed, among other things, that none more than Arnold, even sub- 
 sequent to the rejection of accommodation with England, had been 
 the devoted and obsequious courtier of France, none more than him 
 had danced attendance upon her generals and agents ; that on the 
 first arrival of the minister Gerard at Philadelphia, he had pressed 
 him to inhabit his house ; that he had lavished, in his honor, the most 
 sumptuous banquets, the most splendid balls, the most gorgeous 
 galas ; that he had been the supple flatterer of Silas Dearie, the most 
 servile tool of France, in a word, that on all occasions he had given 
 the French grounds to believe that they had not in all the United 
 States a more sincere friend than himself. ' But such,' it was said, 
 4 is the ordinary conduct of the ambitious ; alternately cringing and 
 supercilious, they are not ashamed to tax others with their own vices.' 
 Thus Arnold found retorted against himself those arguments from 
 which he had anticipated the most success. 
 
 As to the Congress, they deemed it beneath their dignity to appear 
 to take the least notice of the perfidy or the pamphlets of Arnold. 
 VOL. ii. 40 
 
310 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII, 
 
 Only to testify their high sense of the noble conduct of the three 
 soldiers who had arrested major Andre, they passed a resolution 
 creating in favor of each of them a life annuity of two hundred 
 dollars, free of all deductions. They also decreed that they should 
 be presented with a silver medal, struck express, bearing upon one 
 face the word Fidelity, and upon the other the following motto; 
 Viacit amor patritz. The executive council of Pennsylvania issued 
 a proclamation summoning Benedict Arnold, in company with some 
 other vile men, to appear before the tribunals to make answer for 
 their defection, and declaring them, otherwise, subject to all the pains 
 and penalties usually inflicted on criminals convicted of high treason. 
 This was the only act in which any public authority deigned to make 
 mention of Arnold. 
 
 The details of the conspiracy of New York have necessarily 
 diverted our attention for some time from the theatre of war. We 
 proceed now to recount the various success of the British arms in 
 the Carolinas. The month of September approached its close, when 
 the British generals, who had reenforced their troops and recruited 
 their necessary stores and provision, resolved to reenter the field and 
 complete those operations which they had commenced, and which 
 were to be the most important fruit of the victory of Cambden. 
 They flattered themselves that the rumor alone of their march upon 
 North Carolina would suffice to determine the American army to 
 evacuate it immediately. They already beheld in no distant per- 
 spective not only the conquest of that province, but also that of Vir- 
 ginia. They calculated that when to the possession of the two 
 Carolinas, of Georgia and New York they should have added this, 
 Virginia, so fertile and so powerful, the Americans, crushed by the 
 burthen of the war, must of necessity submit to the laws of Great 
 Britain. The decline and humiliation of their enemies appeared to 
 them inevitable. Lord Cornwallis and general Clinton were to co- 
 operate simultaneously to bring about this grand 'result ; the first, by 
 advancing from South into North Carolina ; the second, by sending 
 a part of his army from New York into the lower parts of Virginia, 
 where, after having passed the Roanoke, it was to operate its junc- 
 tion with the army of Cornwallis upon the confines of North Caro- 
 lina. In pursuance of this plan, Clinton had detached upon the 
 Chesapeake bay a corps of three thousand men, under the command 
 of general Leslie. He landed his troops as well at Portsmouth as 
 upon the adjacent points of that coast, ravaging and burning all the 
 magazines, and especially those of tobacco, of which an immense 
 quantity was destroyed. Many merchant vessels fell into the hands 
 of the English. In this quarter, they were to wait for news of the 
 approach of Cornwallis, then to push rapidly forward to the banks 
 of the Roanoke, where the junction was to be effected. But the 
 distance being great, and as unforeseen accidents might impede the 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 311 
 
 contemplated union of the two corps, Clinton had directed Leslie to 
 obey the orders of Cornwallis. His intention was, that if the junc- 
 tion by land was found subject to insurmountable obstacles, Corn- 
 wallis might cause a part of that corps to come round to him in the 
 Carolinas, by way of the sea. That general, on his part, had put 
 himself on the march from Carnbden upon Charlottetown, a village 
 situated in North Carolina. Nevertheless, to hold South Carolina in 
 check, and to preserve the way open to retreat thither, if it was 
 necessary, he had not contented himself with leaving a strong garri- 
 son in Charleston. Several detachments were distributed upon dif- 
 ferent points of the frontier ; colonel Brown was posted at Augusta, 
 colonel Cruger at Ninety Six, and colonel Turnbull with a stronger 
 corps at Cambden. Lord Cornwallis had then advanced, with the 
 main body of the army and some cavalry, by the way of Hanging 
 Rock, towards Catawba, while Tarleton with the rest of the cavalry 
 passed the Wateree and ascended along its eastern bank. The two 
 corps were to rendezvous, and reunite at Charlottetown. They 
 arrived there in effect about the last of September. But the Eng- 
 lish were not slow in perceiving that they had undcM-taken a far more 
 arduous enterprise than they had contemplated. The country in the 
 environs of Charlottetown was steril, and broken by narrow and intri- 
 cate defiles. The inhabitants were not only hostile, but also most vigi- 
 lentand audacious in attacking detached parties, in cutting off couriers 
 and convoys while on the way from Cambden to Charlottetown. 
 Hence the royalists could not sally into the open country, whether to 
 forage, or gain intelligence, except in strong detachments. Moreover, 
 colonel Sumpter, always enterprising, and prompt to seize any occa- 
 sion for infesting the British, seemed to be every where at once, 
 upon the frontiers of the two Carolinas. Another partisan corps of 
 similar audacity, had just been formed under (he conduct of colonel 
 Marion. Finally, the alarming intelligence was announced, that 
 colonel Clarke had assembled a numerous body of mountaineers 
 from the upper parts of the Carolinas, a most hardy and warlike 
 race of men. Though the valiant defence of colonel Brown had 
 defeated a coup de main which they had attempted against Augusta, 
 yet they still kept the field. Their chief had led them into the 
 mountainous part in order to unite with colonel Sumpter, or, at least, 
 if the corps of Ferguson prevented that, to await new reenforcc- 
 ments of the inhabitants of those regions, whose ardor he well knew. 
 The royalists thus found themselves surrounded by clouds of re- 
 publicans. Placed in the midst of a country where every thing 
 combined against them, they more resembled a besieged army than 
 troops marching upon an expedition.' An unexpected accident came 
 to aggravate yet more the distress of their position. Colonel Fergu- 
 son, as we have already seen, had been detached by lord Cornwallis 
 upon the frontiers of North Carolina, to encourage the loyalists to 
 
312 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 take arms. A considerable number had repaired to his standard, 
 but the greater part were of the most profligate and of the most 
 ferocious description of men. Believing any thing admissible with 
 the sanction of their chief, they put every thing on their passage to 
 fire and sword. Excesses so atrocious must have inflamed the 
 coldest hearts with the desire of vengeance ; they transported the 
 . mountaineers with fury. They descended into the plain by torrents, 
 arming themselves with whatever chance threw within their reach, 
 They foamed at the name of Ferguson ; they conjured the chiefs 
 they had given themselves, to lead them upon the tra"ck of this mon- 
 ster, that they might make him expiate the ravages and blood with 
 which he had stained himself. Each of them carried, besides his 
 arms, a wallet and a blanket. They slept on the naked earth, in the 
 open air ; the water of the rivulets slaked their thirst, they fed on 
 the cattle they drew after them, or on the game they killed in the 
 forests. They were conducted by the colonels Campbell, Cleveland, 
 Selby, Seveer, Williams, Brandy and Lacy. Every where they 
 demanded Ferguson with loud cries. At every step they swore to 
 exterminate him. At length they found him. But Ferguson was 
 not a man that any danger whatever could intimidate. He was 
 posted on a woody eminence which commands all the adjacent plain, 
 and has a circular base. It is called Kings Mountain. An advanced 
 guard defended its approach by the direct road. The mountaineers 
 soon forced them to fail back ; then, forming in several columns, 
 they endeavored to make their way good to the summit. The attack 
 and the defence were equally obstinate ; some from behind trees, 
 others under the cover of rocks, maintained an extremely brisk fire. 
 At length those commanded by Cleveland arrived upon the brow of 
 the hill. The English repulsed them with the bayonet. But the 
 column of Selby came up at the same instant, and it was necessary 
 to dispute the ground with it immediately. It began to give way, 
 when colonel Campbell took part in the combat. Ferguson received 
 him with gallantry ; but what could avail his efforts against assaults 
 incessantly renewed and always with more fury ! He was surround- 
 ed ; and he did ail that a man of skill and courage could do to ex- 
 tricate himself. But already the crown of the mount was inundated 
 with Americans. They summoned Ferguson. in vain to surrender ; 
 he perished sword in hand. His successor immediately demanded 
 and obtained quarter. The carnage had been dreadful ; the royal- 
 ists had to regret above eleven hundred men in killed, wounded and 
 prisoners, a loss extremely serious in the present circumstances. All 
 the arms and munitions fell into the power of the conquerors. They 
 observed the laws of war towards the English ; but they displayed 
 an excessive rigor against the loyalists. They hung several without 
 listening to their remonstrances. They alleged, that this execution 
 was only a just reprisal for that of the republicans put to death by 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 318 
 
 the loyalists at Cambden, at Ninety Six, and at Augusta. They even 
 insisted that the persons whose lives they had taken, had forfeited 
 them by their crimes according to the laws of the country. Thus 
 was added to the inevitable rigors of war, all the ferocity of civil 
 dissentions. 
 
 The mountaineers, after this victory, returned to their homes. The 
 check of Kings Mountain was a heavy blow to the British interests 
 in the Carolina*. The position of Cornwallis became critical. The 
 loyalists no longer manifested the same zeal to join him ; and he 
 found himself with a feeble army in the midst of a hostile and steril 
 country. He clearly foresaw that a movement forward would but 
 increase the embarrassments under which he already labored. Com- 
 pelled, therefore, to relinquish for the present the invasion of North 
 Carolina, where the public mind was decidedly in favor of the re- 
 publicans, he resolved, at least, to maintain himself in South Carolina 
 until he should have received reenforcements. He accordingly 
 abandoned Charlottetown, repassed the Catawba, and took post at 
 Winnsborough. From that point, he was at hand to correspond with 
 Cambden and Ninety Six ; and the fertility of the adjacent country 
 secured him better quarters. At the same time he sent orders to 
 general Leslie, who was still in Virginia, to embark his troops forth- 
 with, and after having touched at Wilmington, to repair with all 
 expedition to Charleston. . 
 
 The retreat of the English from Charlottetown to Winnsborough, 
 and their defeat at Kings Mountain, animated the republicans with 
 uncommon alacrity. They hastened in multitude to place themselves 
 under the standards of their most daring chiefs, among whom the 
 more prominent were the colonels Sumpter and Marion. The latter 
 scoured the lower, the former the upper parts of the province. 
 Sometimes Cambden, sometimes Ninety Six were menaced. The 
 royal troops could scarcely quit their camp for provision, wood or 
 forage, without running the greatest hazard of being surprised. To 
 put an end to these continual alarms, Tarleton made a movement 
 which menaced colonel Marion ; but the American, who intended 
 only to harass his enemy, and not to engage him in the open field, 
 retired precipitately. The Englishman pursued him ; but he receiv- 
 ed, at the same instant, orders from lord Cornwallis, enjoining him 
 to turn upon colonel Sumpter. That partisan was on the march 
 towards Ninety Six ; he had already surprised major Wemis upon 
 Broad river, and captured many prisoners, both horse and foot. 
 Tarleton, exerting a scarcely credible diligence, appeared unexpect- 
 edly in the presence of Sumpter, who was encamped upon the right 
 bank of the river Tiger, at a place called Blackstocks. The position 
 of the Americans was formidably strong ; it was covered in front by 
 the river, log houses and palisades ; and upon the two flanks by 
 inaccessible mountains, or narrow and difficult defiles. Tarleton, 
 
314 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 hurried on by his ardor, and fearing lest Sumpter should pass the 
 Tiger and escape him, left his light infantry, and even a part of his 
 legion, behind, and pushed forward upon the enemy with a body of 
 grenadiers and the rest of his cavalry. The action was engaged 
 with reciprocal desperation. A British regiment was so roughly 
 treated that it was compelled to fall back in the greatest disorder. 
 Tarleton, to restore the battle, headed an impetuous charge upon the 
 centre of the Americans ; they received it without giving way. The 
 Englishman then found himself constrained to retreat, leaving upon 
 the field of battle a great number of dead and wounded, among 
 whom were found several officers of note. But night being come, 
 colonel Sumpter, who was dangerously wounded in the shoulder, did 
 not judge it prudent to await the British troops that Tarleton had 
 left behind him, and he accordingly repassed the river. His wound 
 not permitting him to retain the command, he was carried by faithful 
 soldiers into the secure regions of the mountains. The greater part 
 of his corps then disbanded. Tarleton, after having scoured, for a 
 few days, the country on the left bank of the Tiger, returned by easy 
 marches to resume his position upon Broad river, in South Carolina. 
 This petty war, these frequent rencounters, more and more invigor- 
 ated the warlike spirit of the troops of the two parties. 
 
 Meanwhile, general Gates had succeeded in assembling some few 
 troops, the greater part cavalry, and in order to support the partisans 
 of Congress, as well as to afford them a rallying point, he recrossed 
 the river Yadkin, and took post at Charlottetown, with intent to 
 winter there. He thought that hostilities could not be continued 
 during the bad season, which was then about to set in. While he 
 applied himself with zeal to these preparatory dispositions, and for- 
 tune seemed inclined to smile upon him anew, general Greene arrived 
 at camp. His military reputation and his tried devotion to the cause 
 of the republic, had decided the Congress and Washington to intrust 
 him with the command in the southern provinces, in the room of Gates. 
 The latter evinced, in this conjuncture, that country was dearer to him 
 than power and glory. He supported so unpleasant an incident with 
 such constancy, that he did not betray a single mark of discontent. 
 When he passed through Richmond, in returning to his own province, 
 the assembly of Virginia sent a deputation to compliment him. It 
 gave him assurance that the remembrance of his glorious achievements 
 could not be effaced by any misfortune, praying him to be persuaded 
 that the Virginians in particular would never neglect any occasion to 
 manifest the gratitude they bore him, as members of the American 
 Union. General Greene brought with him no reenforcement from 
 the northern army ; he expected to find sufficient forces in the 
 southern quarter. He was accompanied only by colonel Morgan 
 with some riflemen, who had acquired the highest reputation, ills 
 army was consequently extremely feeble : but the woods, the 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 315 
 
 swamps, the rivers, with which the country was every where broken, 
 were means of defence sufficient to reassure him. As his intention 
 was merely to infest the enemy, by avoiding general actions he hoped 
 to be able to harass, and little by little to reduce him. It was about 
 the same time that general Leslie arrived from Virginia at Charles- 
 ton, with a reenforcernent of more than two thousand regular troops. 
 He found fresh orders in that city, in pursuance of which, he put 
 himself immediately on the march with fifteen hundred men, to 
 rejoin lord Cornwallis at Winnsborough. 
 
 1781. This addition of force renewed with the British general 
 the desire to reduce North Carolina, and to proceed thence into 
 Virginia. But the" better to secure the success of this enterprise, a 
 council of war decided that it should not be confided to the army of 
 Cornwallis alone ; and that it was proper that it should be supported 
 by another expedition simultaneously directed on the part of Virginia 
 itself; not that the troops which could be employed in that part were 
 in a situation to achieve the conquest of the province without the 
 assistance of lord Cornwallis, but they might at least be able to dis- 
 courage the Virginians from passing reenforcements to general 
 Greene. Agreeably to this plan, Arnold had been detached to the 
 Chesapeake bay, where he was to disembark his troops at whatever 
 point he might judge the most favorable to a mischievous impression. 
 The English also flattered themselves, that his name and example 
 would influence a great number of the Americans to desert from the 
 colors of the republic to those of the king. Arnold received this 
 commission with ecstacy ; he departed to execute it with fifty trans- 
 ports and sixteen hundred men. The moment he had landed, he 
 commenced the most shocking ravages. Richmond and Smithfield 
 experienced all his fury. But the country was alarmed on all parts, 
 the inhabitants flew to arms; he was obliged to fall back upon Ports- 
 mouth, where he labored to intrench himself. He would not aban- 
 don that coast, because he was sensible how much his presence dis- 
 quieted the Americans. On the other hand, however, he could not 
 with forces so insufficient keep the field in the midst of a province 
 whose numerous population was animated by the most violent hatred 
 against England. 
 
 This piratical expedition, therefore, produced but very imperfect]} 
 the effect which the British generals had hoped from it. It delayed, 
 it is true, those succours which the Virginians destined for the Caro- 
 linas; but not one of them joined Arnold. Devastations, plunder, 
 conflagrations, had no such fascination as could gain him partisans. 
 The campaign had already opened in South Carolina. The two 
 hostile generals manoeuvred each according to the plan he had fram- 
 ed. Lord Cornwallis had set out from Winnsborough, and was 
 marching between the Broad and Catawba river, on the upper route, 
 towards North Carolina. He had already arrived at Turkey Creek. 
 
316 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 To arrest his progress, general Greene resolved to demonstrate an 
 intention to attack Ninety Six, while colonel Morgan, with five hun- 
 dred Virginian regulars, some companies of militia, and the light 
 horse of colonel Washington, was detached to guard the passages of 
 the river Pacolet. As to Greene himself, he went to encamp at the 
 confluence of Hicks Creek with the Pedee, opposite toCheraw Hill. 
 He was blamed by many military critics, for having thus divided his 
 forces. In effect, if the English had pushed rapidly forward, they 
 might have thrown themselves between the corps of Greene and 
 Morgan, and crushed them both without difficulty. But perhaps the 
 American genera! had calculated that the royalists were embarrassed 
 by too many obstacles to act with such celerity ; perhaps, also, he 
 had not yet heard of the junction of Leslie and Cornwallis. The 
 latter general immediately detached Tarleton with his legion of caval- 
 ry and a body of infantry to cover Ninety Six. On arriving in 
 that part, Tarleton found every thing quiet ; the enemy had retired 
 after some light skirmishes. He then determined to march against 
 Morgan, confident of being able either to rout him by surprise, or at 
 least to drive him beyond the Broad river, which would have left the 
 ways clear to the royal army. He consulted lord Cornwallis by let- 
 ter, who not only approved his design, but resolved also to concur to 
 its execution, by ascending the left bank of the Broad, in order to 
 menace the rear of Morgan. Every thing went well for them at first. 
 Tarleton, after having passed witli equal celerity and good fortune the 
 rivers Ennoree and Tiger, presented himself upon the banks of the 
 Pacolet. Morgan retreated thence forthwith, and Tarleton set him- 
 self to pursue him. He pressed him hard. Morgan felt how full of 
 danger was become the passage of Broad river, in the presence of so 
 enterprising an enemy as now hung upon his rear. He therefore 
 thought it belter to make a stand. He formed his troops in two 
 divisions; the first composed of militia, under the conduct of colo- 
 nel Pickens, occupied the front of a wood, in view of the enemy; 
 the second, commanded by colonel Howard, was concealed in 
 the wood itself, and consisted of his marksmen and old continental 
 troops'. Colonel Washington, with his cavalry, was posted behind 
 the second division, as a reserve, Tarleton soon came up, and 
 formed in two lines ; his infantry in the centre of each, and his horse 
 on the flanks. Every thing seemed to promise him victory. He was 
 superior in cavalry, and his troops, both officers and soldiers, mani- 
 fested an extreme ardor. The English attacked the first American 
 line ; after a single discharge, with little harm to the enemy, it fled 
 in confusion. They then fell upon the second ; but here they found a 
 more obstinate resistance. The action was engaged and supported with 
 equal advantage. Tarleton, to decide it in his favor, pushed forward 
 a battalion of his second line, and at the same time directed a charge 
 of cavalry upon the right flank of the Americans. He was afraid to 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 317 
 
 attack their left, supported by colonel Washington, who had already 
 vigorously repulsed an assault of the British light horse. The manoeu- 
 vre of Tarleton had the expected effect ; the American regulars gave 
 way, and were thrown into disorder. The English rushed on, per- 
 suaded that the day was now their own. Already Tarleton, with his 
 cavalry, was in full pursuit of the routed, when colonel Washington, 
 whose troop was still entire, fell upon the enemy with such impetu- 
 osity, that in a few moments he had restored the battle. During this 
 interval, colonel Howard had rallied his continental troops, and led 
 them back upon the English. Colonel Pickens had also, by prodi- 
 gious efforts, reassembled the militia, and again brought them to the 
 fire. Morgan was visible every where ; his presence and words re- 
 animated the spirits of his soldiers. He profited of that moment of 
 enthusiasm to precipitate them in one general charge upon the enemy. 
 The shock was so tremendous, that the English at first paused, then 
 recoiled, and soon fled in confusion. The Americans pursued them 
 with inexpressible eagerness. It was in vain that the British officers 
 employed exhortations, prayers and threats, to stay the fugitives ; the 
 discomfiture was total. Tarleton lost, in dead, wounded and prison- 
 ers, more than eight hundred men, two pieces of cannon, the colors 
 of the seventh regiment, all his carriages and baggage. He regretted 
 especially the horses killed or taken in this engagement. The nature 
 of the country, which is flat and open, renders cavalry of the utmost 
 importance to a campaign in that quarter. ^ 
 
 Such was the issue of the battle of Cowpens, the effects of which 
 were heavily felt by the English during the whole course of the war 
 of the Carolinas and Virginia ; it was, in a word, decisive of the fate 
 of those provinces. The destruction of the British cavalry, the total 
 defeat of Tarleton, who had been, until that epoch, the terror of the 
 inhabitants, animated them with fresh spirits. Dejection and de- 
 spondency were exchanged for confidence and enthusiasm. The 
 Congress voted public thanks to colonel Morgan, and presented him 
 with a medal of gold. Colonels Washington and Howard received 
 medals of silver, and colonel Pickens a sword. 
 
 The news of the sanguinary check of Cowpens, was extremely 
 afflictive to lord Cornwallis. He had lost in it the best part of his 
 light troops, and they were to have been the principal instrument of 
 his ulterior operations. But far from allowing himself to be discou- 
 raged by this blow, he resolved to prosecute his designs with the 
 corps he had left. He hoped to obtain from it the same service 
 as from light troops, by destroying his heavy baggage, and all the 
 carriages that were not of absolute necessity. Two entire days 
 were employed in the destruction of superfluous incurnbrances. A 
 few wagons only were kept, for the accomnfodation of the sick and 
 wounded, and the transportation of salt and ammunition. The soldier 
 witnessed the annihilation of his most valuable effects ; the casks con- 
 VOL. ir. 41 
 
318 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 taining wine and rum were all staved, and the troops set forward with 
 no other provision than a small quantity of flour. The royal army 
 submitted to all these inconveniences with admirable temper and 
 patience, and manifested the utmost eagerness to accomplish the 
 wishes of its general. He had two objects in view at that time. One 
 was, to fall immediately upon Morgan, worst him, retake the prisoners 
 he had made, and prevent his junction with general Greene, who still 
 continued upon Hicks Creek. The second, and by far the most 
 important, was to push forward by forced marches upon Salisbury, 
 and towards the sources of the Yadkin, before Greene should have 
 crossed that river. If he effected this design, it followed of necessity, 
 that the American general would be cut off from the succours he 
 expected from Virginia, and constrained either to retreat precipitate- 
 ly, with the loss of his artillery and baggage, or to accept a battle 
 under every disadvantage. Lord Cornwallis set out upon the first of 
 these projects. He directed his march with celerity upon the Ca- 
 tawba, in the hope of surprising and crushing Morgan before he could 
 pass that river. But the Americans were upon their guard. After 
 his victory of Cowpens, Morgan, who knew very well that Cornwallis 
 was not far off, had sent his prisoners upon his rear, under the guard of 
 an experienced officer, and soon after set forward himself with all his 
 troops towards the Catawba. Such was the diligence of his march, 
 that on the twenty-ninth of January he had crossed the river, with all 
 his artillery, stores, baggage and prisoners. The Americans were no 
 sooner upon the left bank than the British appeared on the right ; the 
 chagrin of Cornwallis is readily conceived. Morgan, still keeping 
 his prisoners on the march towards Virginia, neglected no measures 
 that might tend, if not to arrest, at least to retard the progress of the 
 royal troops. But they soon had even the elements to contend with. 
 There had fallen the preceding night such an abundant rain in the 
 neighboring mountains, that the ford of Catawba became immediately 
 impassable. If this swell of the waters had taken place a few hours 
 sooner, Morgan would have found himself in a critical position. 
 
 In this state of things, general Greene arrived at the .camp of 
 Morgan, and took the command upon himself. Penetrating the 
 designs of Cornwallis, he had left orders with the troops stationed at 
 Hicks Creek, to make the best of their way, without baggage or 
 incumbrance of any sort, towards the mountainous part, in order to 
 approach the sources of the rivers where they become more forda- 
 ble. Their point of rendezvous was indicated at Guildford Court 
 House, in North Carolina. Whilst Greene rejoined the corps of 
 Morgan, upon the left bank of the Catawba, general Huger executed 
 his orders with as much zeal as intelligence. The rains were such 
 as to be thought extraordinary even at this season ; the bridges were 
 broken, the streams excessively swoln, the roads deep and heavy, or 
 stony and knobbed by frost. The soldiers were destitute of shoes, 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 319 
 
 of clothing, and often of bread. They seemed to vie with the English 
 in constancy, and supported all their sufferings without a murmur. 
 Not one of them deserted, and in this respect they had more merit 
 than their adversaries. The Americans in disbanding, repaired to 
 their homes and repose ; whereas the English deserter must have 
 wandered in a country where every thing opposed him. During the 
 march of this division upon Guildford, the waters of the Catawba 
 diminished, and the royal troops prepared themselves to cross it. 
 But the republicans seemed determined to dispute their passage. 
 Besides the intrepid phalanx of Morgan, all the militia of the coun- 
 ties of Rohan and Mecklenburgh, where the British name was 
 loathed, had assembled upon that point. Notwithstanding these 
 obstacles, Cornwallis took a resolution to attempt the enterprise. 
 
 He was excited to this movement by the hope of giving the 
 enemy a decisive blow, either by reaching the corps of Huger before 
 its arrival at Guildford, or by throwing himself between it and Vir- 
 ginia. He accordingly marched and counter marched along the 
 right bank of the Catawba, holding out an intent to pass in different 
 places, in order to cluSe the attention of the Americans. But his 
 real design was to cross at Gowans Ford. In effect, on the morn- 
 ing of the first of February, the English entered the water; the 
 river was broad, deep, and full of large stones. The republicans 
 were drawn up on the left bank, and commanded by general David- 
 son. But this corps was composed entirely of militia ; Morgan with 
 his veterans guarded another passage. The English, however, had 
 to encounter a very brisk and well directed fire ; but they supported 
 it with intrepidity, successfully traversed the bed of the river, and 
 gained the opposite bank. The Americans were formed to receive 
 them, and the action commenced. General Davidson was killed at 
 the first discharge ; his militia betook themselves to flight, and the 
 detachments posted at other points ran off in the same manner. 
 The whole royal army arrived without obstacle upon the left bank. 
 A single corps of militia, amidst the general route, made a stand at 
 the post of Tarrant ; colonel Tarleton charged them vigorously and 
 routed them with severe execution. But colonel Morgan retired 
 untouched, and with celerity towards Salisbury. He hoped to 
 arrive there in season to cross the Yadkin at that place, and thus to 
 put a large river between him and the royal army. The English 
 followed him with great ardor, panting to take their revenge for the 
 defeat of Cowpens. But the American displayed so much activity, 
 and threw so many impediments in the way of his pursuers, that he 
 passed the Yadkin with all his troops, and without any loss, in the 
 first days of February ; partly by the ford, and partly in batteaux. 
 He drew all the boats he could find to the left bank. The English 
 at length arrived, under the conduct of general O'Hara. They per- 
 ceived the enemy drawn up on the opposite side, prepared to oppose 
 
320 THE AMERICAN AVAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 their passage. They would, nevertheless, have attempted it but for 
 the sudden swell of the Yadkin, through the rains that fell that very 
 day. The pious inhabitants of America considered this sudden 
 increment of the rivers as a manifest token of the protection which 
 heaven granted to the justice of their cause. They observed, that if 
 the waters of the Catawba, and afterwards those of the Yadkin, had 
 swelled a few hours sooner, their army, unable to cross, ntust have 
 been cut in pieces by the furious enemy that pursued it. If, on the 
 contrary, these rivers had not increased all of a sudden, a few hours 
 later, the British would have passed as easily as the Americans, and 
 would have intercepted their retreat. These two consecutive events, 
 and the critical moment at which they took place, were esteemed 
 alike providential. Seeing the impossibility of crossing the Yadkin 
 at the ford of Salisbury, which is the most commodious, and the 
 most frequented, Cornwallis resolved to march up the river, hoping 
 to find it fordable at the place where it branches ; this he effected ; 
 but the delay occasioned by the circuit, afforded the Americans time 
 enough to reach Guildford without being disquieted. It was there, 
 that, on the seventh of February, the two divisions of the American 
 army operated their junction ; that of general Huger which, notwith- 
 standing all his diligence, was the last to arrive, and that of colonel 
 Morgan. Greene felt the more joy at this union, as it was highly 
 honorable to his ability. Thus by the prudence of the American 
 commanders, and by the fortitude and celerity of their soldiers, 
 together with a happy coincidence of fortuitous causes, was defeated 
 the double plan of lord Cornwallis. He could neither exterminate 
 Morgan, nor prevent his reunion with Huger. There remained now 
 but one operation which could indemnify him for so many losses ; 
 and that was to cut Greene off from Virginia. The two armies 
 were already upon the confines of that province. It is separated 
 from North Carolina by the Roanoke, which in its upper part is 
 called the Dan. The British general conceiving that river not ford- 
 able in the lower parts, calculated that if he could gain the high 
 country, he should be at liberty to move as he might see fit. For 
 supposing that Greene could not pass the Dan, he would then be 
 surrounded on all sides ; on the north by Cornwallis himself, on the 
 west by great rivers, on the south by lord Rawdon, who remained 
 at Cambden with a respectable force, and on the east by the sea. 
 Moreover, notwithstanding the juncture of the American troops, they 
 were still so inferior to those of the English, that the latter consider- 
 ed themselves perfectly assured of a complete victory. The two 
 parties were equally aware that success must depend on the rapidity 
 of marches ; they accordingly both bent their course, with all possi- 
 ble velocity, upon the fordable parts of the Dan. The English, 
 desirous to repair the time lost in their preceding passages, exerted 
 prodigious efforts, and occupied the fords the first. The position of 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 321 
 
 Greene was now truly critical. He turned rapidly towards a lower 
 ford, called Boyds Ferry, uncertain of the safety or destruction of 
 his army, since he was ignorant if that ford was practicable. The 
 royal troops pursued him with vehemence ; they looked upon their 
 approaching victory as a positive certainty. Greene, in so pressing 
 an emergency, summoned all the faculties of his soul, and did all 
 that could have been expected of a consummate general. 
 
 He formed a strong corps of his best light troops, consisting in the 
 regiments of cavalry of Lee, of Bland, and of Washington, in com- 
 panies of light infantry, drawn from regiments of the line, and in 
 some riflemen. He charged the commander of this corps to sustain 
 the efforts of the enemy, and to bear in mind that the salvation of 
 the army was in his hands. As to himself, with the rest of his troops 
 and the heavy baggage, he proceeded with all expedition towards 
 Boyds Ferry. The royalists pushed forward with eagerness from 
 Salem to the sources of the Haw, from that point to Reedy Fork, 
 from there to Troublesome Creek, and thence towards the Dan. 
 But the detached corps which has just been mentioned, by continual 
 skirmishes, and the breaking up of roads and bridges, materially 
 retarded their march. Greene had already reached the margin of 
 the river ; he found it fordable ; some boats at hand accelerated the 
 passage, he gained the Virginian shore ; all the baggage was passed 
 over with equal success. Even the gallant rear guard, which had 
 preserved the army, arrived a little after, and crossed with the same 
 happy auspices, to the safe side of the river. 
 
 It was not long before the English, full of earnestness, made their 
 appearance upon the right of the Dan ; they perceived upon the 
 opposite bank the American army formed in menacing array. All 
 their hopes were vanished ; the fruit of all their efforts, of all their 
 sufferings, was lost irrecoverably. The retreat of general Greene 
 and the pursuit of lord Cornwallis, are worthy to be placed among 
 the most 'remarkable events of the American war ; they would have 
 done honor to the most celebrated captains of that, or any former 
 epoch. 
 
 Compelled so unexpectedly to relinquish the object of his sanguine 
 hope, lord Cornwallis meditated upon the course he had now to 
 pursue. The attack of Virginia, with forces so enfeebled as were 
 his own, appeared to him the more perilous, as the American army 
 preserved the most imposing; attitude. Under this consideration, he 
 determined to remain in North Carolina, of which he was master, 
 and set himself to levy troops in the name of the king. With this 
 intent he quitted the banks of the Dan, and repaired by easy marches 
 to Hillsborough ; where having erected the royal standard, he invited 
 the inhabitants, by an energetic proclamation, to form themselves into 
 regular companies. But these efforts were not attended with the 
 success he had hoped ; a great number of the country people came 
 
322 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 to his head quarters, but the greater part to satisfy their curiosity, to 
 gain intelligence, and to make their profit of it. All manifested an 
 extreme repugnance to arming against the Congress. Lord Cornwallis 
 complained publicly of their coldness. He saw that he could place 
 no dependence upon the assistance of the people of this province, 
 formerly so celebrated for their attachment to the name of the king. 
 The long domination of the republicans, and the horrible enormities 
 committed by the royal troops in different parts of the American 
 continent, had given birth to sentiments of quite another cast. In- 
 sensibly detached from the cause of the king, the inhabitants, besides, 
 could not forget the vicinity of the republican army, which at any 
 moment might again penetrate into their province. About this time, 
 a British squadron, and a body of troops detached from Charleston, 
 took possession of Wilmington, a city of North Carolina, situated not 
 far from the mouth of Cape Fear river. They fortified themselves 
 there, seized munitions of war, and even some vessels, both French 
 and American. This expedition had been ordered by Cornwallis 
 prior to his departure from Winnsborough, in pursuit of Morgan. Its 
 principal object was that of opening a communication between the 
 country about Hillsborough and the sea, by the way of Cape Fear 
 river ; an object of the utmost importance, as it afforded a sure mode 
 of passing supplies to the army. 
 
 The retreat of Greene into Virginia, although it had not produced 
 upon the minds of those Carolinians who remained faithful to the 
 king, all that effect which Cornwallis had expected from it, had, 
 nevertheless, excited in some, fresh hopes and desires of a new 
 order of things. The British general redoubled his efforts and in- 
 stances to induce them to take arms. The district situated between 
 the Haw and the Deep river, was represented as particularly abound- 
 ing in loyalists ; Cornwallis sent them Tarleton to animate and 
 imbody them. His exhortations were not in vain. The family of 
 Pill, one of the most considerable of the country, was also the most 
 ardent to set the example. Already a colonel of that family had 
 assembled a considerable body of his most audacious partisans, and 
 was on his way to join Tarleton. But general Greene, who was fully 
 sensible how prejudicial it would prove to the arms of Congress if he 
 suffered its cause to succumb entirely in North Carolina, and -fearing 
 lest the loyalists might operate a revolution in that province, had 
 detached anew upon the right bank of the Dan, a body of cavalry 
 under the conduct of colonel Lee, with a view of intimidating the 
 partisans of England, reassuring those of the Congress, and disquiet- 
 ing the movements of the enemy in the interior of the country. He 
 intended also himself, as soon as he should have received his reen- 
 forcements, which were already on the march, to repass the river, 
 and show himself again upon the territory of the Carolinas. The 
 recovery of those provinces was the fixed aim of all his thoughts. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 323 
 
 Meanwhile, colonel Lee was by no means tardy in acting accord- 
 ing to the instructions of his general. The troop assembled by 
 colonel Pill was the first that fell in his way. These loyalists, totally 
 unacquainted with the profession of arms, knew so little how to clear 
 their march, that thinking they were going to meet Tarleton, they 
 threw themselves headlong into the corps of Lee. The American 
 enveloped and charged them with rapid vigor. The loyalists, still 
 supposing their affair was with Tarleton, and that he mistook them 
 for republicans, were eager to make themselves known by reiterated 
 cries of c long live the king.' The fury of the assailants did but 
 rage the fiercer, and in a few instants all that survived were obliged 
 to surrender. Thus, this inexpert troop were led to slaughter by a 
 presumptuous chief, who had imagined that the spirit of party could 
 fill the place of knowledge and talents ! At the news of this event, 
 which was rather an execution than a combat, Tarleton, who was not 
 far off, put himself in motion with intent to encounter Lee ; but an 
 order of Cornwallis checked him, and. drew him back to Hillsborough. 
 The cause of this sudden resolution of the British general, was, that 
 Greene, though even yet he had received only a small part of his 
 reenforcements, had boldly repassed the Dan, and menaced again to 
 overrun Carolina. Not, however, that his real intention was to give 
 his adversary battle before having assembled his whole force ; but 
 he wished to show Cornwallis and the patriots of the province that 
 he was in being, and able to keep the field. He chose a position 
 upon the left of the Dan, and very high up, towards the sources of 
 the Haw, in order to avoid the necessity of fighting. Cornwallis, on 
 hearing that the American banners had reappeared in Carolina, 
 quitted Hillsborough forthwith, and, crossing the Haw at a lower 
 ford, proceeded to encamp near Allemance Creek, detaching Tarle- 
 ton with his cavalry to scour the country as far as Deep river. Thus 
 the two armies found themselves so near each other, as to be sepa- 
 rated only by the river Haw. Hence frequent skirmishes ensued. 
 In one of these rencounters, Tarleton did great mischief to the corps 
 of Lee, which was joined by the mountaineers and militia, under the 
 command of captain Preston. The two generals manoeuvred a long 
 time with uncommon ability ; the American to avoid battle, the 
 Englishman to force him to it. Greene had the good fortune, or the 
 skill, to continue master of his movements. But towards the middle 
 of March, he received reenforcements, which consisted principally of 
 continental troops. He was joined, at the same time, by militia from 
 Virginia, under the conduct of general Lawson, as also by some 
 Carolinian militia, led by the generals Butler and Eaton. Having 
 acquired more confidence in his strength, Greene took a resolution 
 no longer to decline a decisive action, but, on the contrary, to march 
 directly to the enemy. He accordingly pushed forward with all his 
 troops, and took post at Guildford Court House. He had reflected 
 
324 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 that being superior in number, and principally in cavalry, he could 
 not experience a total and irreparable defeat. The worst conse- 
 quence that could follow a loss of battle, was that of placing him 
 under the necessity of retiring into Virginia, where he would have 
 found the utmost facility in reestablishing his army. He had also to 
 consider that the numerous militia assembled in his camp would soon 
 disband, unless he availed himself immediately of their first ardor. 
 On the other hand, if the English were beaten, far from their ships, 
 entangled in a country where thf?y were detested, and without means 
 of retreat, how could their army escape a total destruction ? They 
 had therefore much more at risk than the Americans, in referring 
 the decision of their fate to the chance of arms. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis saw distinctly, on his part, that it would be an 
 inexcusable imprudence to remain longer in the midst of a popula- 
 tion, which every thing taught him to distrust, while a formidable 
 enemy menaced him in front. But retreat, in all respects so preju- 
 dicial to the interests of the king, was accompanied with so many 
 dangers, that it became next to impracticable. In turning his eyes 
 upon his camp, the British general beheld all soldiers nurtured in the 
 toils of war, and trained to victory in a host of combats. Banishing 
 then all hesitation, he embraced if not the least perilous, assuredly the 
 most honorable course, and gave orders to advance upon Guildford. 
 This resolution was undertaken irrevocably to put an end to uncer- 
 tainties by striking a decisive blow. To relieve his march, and 
 facilitate his retreat in case of a check, lord Cornwallis sent his car- 
 riages and baggage under strong escort to Bells Mills, a place 
 situated upon the Deep river. Greene in like manner passed his 
 wagons to Iron Works, ten miles in the rear of his position. The 
 reconnoitring parties of the two armies went out in all directions for 
 intelligence. The legion of Lee and that of Tarleton fell in with 
 each other in one of these excursions, and a fierce conflict ensued. 
 Lee at first had the advantage ; but he was obliged to give way in 
 his turn, when Tarleton had been reenforced. These skirmishes 
 were but the prelude of the battle for which both parties were pre- 
 paring themselves. 
 
 The Americans, on their side, numbered about six thousand men, 
 the greater part militia of Virginia and North Carolina ; the remain- 
 der consisted in regular troops from Virginia, Maryland and Dela- 
 ware. The English, including the Hessians, amounted to upwards 
 of twenty-four hundred soldiers. All the adjacent country was 
 clothed with thick wood, interspersed, here and there, with spots of 
 cultivation. A gentle and woody declivity traversed and extended 
 far on both sides of the great road which leads from Salisbury to 
 Guildford. This road itself runs through the centre of the forest. 
 In front, and before coming to the foot of the hill, there was a field 
 six hundred yards in breadth. Behind the forest, between its lower 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 325 
 
 edge and the houses of Guildford, lay another field still more open, 
 and adapted to military evolutions. General Greene had thrown troops 
 into the wood that covered the slope, and had likewise occupied the 
 contiguous plain. In this position he purposed to receive the enemy. 
 His order of battle consisted in three divisions ; the first, composed of 
 the militia of North Carolina, and commanded by the generals But- 
 ler and Eaton, was posted towards the foot of the hill, upon the fore 
 edge of ihe forest, its front was covered by a thick hedge ; two 
 pieces of cannon defended the great road. The second division 
 comprised the militia of Virginia, under the conduct of the generals 
 Stevens and Lawson ; it was formed in-the wood parallel to the first, 
 and about eight hundred yards behind it. The regular troops, under 
 general Huger and colonel Williams, filled the plain which extends 
 from the forest to Guildford, this ground permitted them to manoeu- 
 vre, and to signalise their valor. Two other pieces of cannon, plant- 
 ed upon an eminence which covered their flank, commanded also the 
 highway. 
 
 Colonel Washington, with his dragoons and Linch's riflemen, flanked 
 the right wing, and colonel Lee, with a detachment of light infantry 
 and the dragoons of Campbell, the left. The British general drew 
 up on his part. General Leslie, with an English regiment and the 
 Hessian regiment of Bose, occupied the right of the first line ; and 
 colonel Webster with two English regiments the left. A battalion of 
 guards formed a sort of reserve to the first, and another under gene- 
 ral O'Hara to the second. The artillery and grenadiers marched 
 in close column upon the great road. Tarleton was posted there 
 likewise with his legion ; but his orders were not to move, except 
 upon emergency, until the infantry, after having carried the forest, 
 should have advanced into the plain behind it, where cavalry could 
 operate with facility. The action was commenced on both sides 
 by a brisk cannonade. The English, afterwards leaving their artil- 
 lery behind, rushed forward through the fire of the enemy into the 
 intermediate plain. The Carolinian militia suffered them to ap- 
 proach without flinching, then began to fire. The English made but 
 one discharge, and immediately ran forward to charge with bayonets. 
 The Carolinians showed no firmness. Without awaiting the shock 
 of the enemy, notwithstanding the strength of their position, they 
 recoiled, and took shamefully to flight. Their officers vainly endea- 
 vored to dissipate their terror, and to rally them. Thus the first line 
 of the American army was totally routed. General Stevens, seeing 
 the panic of the Carolinian militia, hastened to reassure those he 
 commanded, by giving out that the others had orders to fall back, 
 after the first discharges. He opened his ranks to let the fugitives 
 pass, and reclosed them immediately. The English still advancing, 
 attacked the militia of Virginia. These bravely withstood their shock, 
 and disputed the ground with them for some time. At length, obliged 
 VOL. it. 42 
 
326 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XII. 
 
 to give way, they also fell back, not without some disorder, upon the 
 continental troops. Meanwhile, as well by the effect of the combat, 
 as from the inequality of the ground, and thickness of the wood, the 
 line of the British was likewise broken, and open in several places. 
 Their commanders, to fill up these vacant spaces, pushed forward the 
 two reserves. Then, all this division having passed the forest, formed 
 in the plain that was behind it and fell upon the continental troops ; 
 but all the impetuosity of this attack was of no avail against the intre- 
 pidity of that division. Their resistance was so obstinate, that victory 
 for a while appeared uncertain. General Leslie, finding he could 
 make no impression upon the left of the Americans, and having suf- 
 fered excessively in the attempt, was constrained to retire behind a 
 ravine, in order to await the news of what might have passed in other 
 parts. The action was supported in the centre with inexpressible 
 fierceness. Colonel Stewart, with the second battalion ol guards, 
 arid a company of grenadiers, had fallen so vigorously upon the 
 troops of Delaware, that he had broken them, and taken from them 
 two pieces of cannon ; but the Marylanders came promptly to their 
 assistance, and not only restored the battle, but even forced the 
 English to recoil in disorder. At this moment colonel Washington 
 came up with his cavalry, charging the royalists with impetuosity ; 
 he put them to flight, cut most of them down, and recovered the two 
 pieces of cannon. 
 
 Colonel Stewart himself perished in the carnage. At this instant 
 the fate of the day hung by a single thread. If the Americans had 
 done all that was in their power, the whole British army was crushed. 
 After the defeat of the British guards, and the death of Stewart, if 
 the republicans had occupied the hill which rises on the side of the 
 great road upon the hinder border of the wood, and furnished it with 
 artillery, it cannot be doubted- that victory would have declared for 
 them. For then the English would not have had power to advance 
 fresh troops into that part ; their left wing would have been separated 
 from the centre and right ; and the battalions of guards would not 
 have been able to recover from the confusion into which they had 
 been thrown. But the Americans, content with the advantage 
 they had already obtained, instead of taking possession of the height, 
 repaired to the posts they occupied before the engagement. At sight 
 of this error, lieutenant-colonel Macleod hastened to take advantage 
 of it ; he advanced the artillery, placed it upon the aforesaid emi- 
 nence, and opened a destructive fire against the front of the conti- 
 nental troops. The grenadiers and another English regiment re- 
 appeared at the same instant upon the right of the plain, and made a 
 vigorous charge upon their flank. Another English regiment fell at 
 the same time upon their left, and Tarleton came up at full speed 
 with his legion. General O'Hara, though dangerously wounded, 
 had succeeded in rallying the British guards. All these succours 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 327 
 
 arrived so opportunely that the disorder of the centre and first line 
 was promptly repaired. 
 
 The American regulars, who had to sustain unsupported the whole 
 weight of the action, finding themselves assailed on so many parts, 
 began to think of their retreat. They made it step by step, without 
 breaking their ranks ; and invariably preserving a menacing attitude. 
 They were constrained, however, to abandon upon the field of battle 
 not only the two field pieces which they had retaken, but two others 
 besides. Colonel Webster, then rejoining the centre with his left 
 wing, made a brisk charge upon the extremity of the right of Greene, 
 and forced it to give way. Cornwallis abstained from sending the 
 cavalry of Tarleton's legion in pursuit of the Americans ; he had 
 need of them in another part. His right was still engaged with the 
 left of Greene. The Hessian regiment of Bose, commanded by 
 colonel de Buy, who in this day displayed an undaunted valor, 
 and the other British troops exerted the most desperate efforts to 
 break the enemy, who defended himself with equal gallantry. The 
 ground was rough, and incumbered with trees and bushes ; the Ame- 
 ricans availed themselves of it to combat as marksmen with their 
 accustomed dexterity. If broken, they reformed, if forced to retire, 
 they returned, if dispersed, they rallied, and charged anew. In the 
 height of this engagement, or rather of this multitude of partial ren- 
 countres, Tarleton, who had defiled behind the right wing of the 
 royalists, and who was covered by the smoke of their arms, as they 
 had purposely fired altogether to this end, fell briskly upon the ene- 
 my, and in a moment swept them from the ground they occupied. 
 The militia threw themselves into the wood, and the Hessians at last 
 found themselves entirely disengaged from this long and obstinate 
 c.onfiict. 
 
 Thus terminated the stubborn and much varied battle of Guildford, 
 which was fought on the fifteenth of March. The American loss in 
 killed, wounded, prisoners, and missing, amounted to upwards of 
 thirteen hundred men. The prisoners were few. Almost all the 
 wounded belonged to the continental troops, and the fugitives dispers- 
 ed, or returned to their homes, to the militia. The generals H tiger 
 and Stevens, were among the wounded. The loss of the British 
 was, in proportion to their number, much more considerable. Their 
 dead and wounded exceeded six hundred. Besides colonel Stew- 
 art, they had to lament colonel Webster. The generals Howard and 
 O'Hara, the first in the army after lord Cornwallis, and colonel 
 Tarleton, received very severe wounds. 
 
 After the action, Greene withdrew behind the Reedy Fork, where 
 he remained some time to collect the fugitives and stragglers. 
 Afterwards continuing his retreat, he went to encamp at Iron Works 
 upon Troublesome Creek. Cornwallis remained master of the 
 field of battle. But he was not merely unable to reap any of the 
 
328 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XlL 
 
 ordinary fruits of victory, he was even constrained to embrace those 
 counsels, which are the usual resource of the vanquished. The 
 fatigue of his soldiers, the multitude of his wounded, the strength of 
 the new position which the American general had taken, and the 
 superiority of the enemy in light troops, and particularly in cavalry, 
 prevented him from pursuing his success. Moreover, the number 
 and spirit of the partisans of Congress seemed to increase with the 
 coldness of the loyalists. Far from rearing the crest after the battle 
 of Guildford, they showed themselves quite deaf to the invocations 
 of Cornwallis, who urged them to take arms and assemble under his 
 banners. To crown his embarrassments, the scarcity of provision 
 became continually more and more sensible. These motives united, 
 determined the British general to fall back as far as Bells Mills, 
 upon the Deep river ; leaving at New Garden, those of his wounded 
 that were least in condition to move. They fell into the power of 
 the republicans. 
 
 After having given his troops a few days repose at Bells Mills, 
 and collected some provision, he marched towards Cross Creek 
 upon the road to Wilmington. Greene followed him briskly, and 
 with a cloud of light infantry and horse continually infested his rear. 
 He did not cease the pursuit till Cornwallis had arrived at Ramsays 
 Mills. The British had destroyed the bridge at that place over the 
 Deep river, and the country being excessively steril, afforded no 
 means of sustenance. Swayed, however, by his daring and enter- 
 prising character, the American general resolved to profit of the 
 present condition of the royalists. He took the determination to 
 march boldly upon South Carolina, which was then almost entirely 
 stripped of troops. He accordingly defiled by forced marches 
 towards Cambden. Though worsted at Guildford, Greene thus 
 showed himself in the field, with forces more formidable than 
 ever. It was the victors who fled before the vanquished ; the latter 
 seemed to have gained new alacrity and new ardor by their reverses. 
 
 After a painful march, lord Cornwallis reached Wilmington, on 
 the seventh of April. Here he held a council upon two operations, 
 both of extreme importance. One was to repair forthwith to the 
 relief of South Carolina ; the other to march into Virginia, in order 
 to make his junction with the troops of Arnold, and with those which 
 had lately been sent thither under the conduct of general Philips. 
 The British generals were much divided in opinion respecting the 
 course to be adopted in a conjuncture which might decide the fate 
 of the whole war. Some were inclined that the army should march 
 immediately into Virginia. They alleged, 'that all the country 
 between the Cape Fear river and Cambden was poor, exhausted, 
 and interrupted by frequent rivers and creeks ; that the passage of 
 the Pedee in the presence of so formidable an enemy, was a rash 
 enterprise ; that the road by Georgetown presented the same diffi- 
 culties ; that the transportation of the troops to Charleston by sea. 
 
BOOK XII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 329 
 
 was an undertaking that would require too much time and toil ; that 
 there was nothing to fear for the latter city ; that by attacking Vir- 
 ginia with an imposing force, Greene would be forced to abandon 
 the Carolinas ; that it would be impossible to arrive in time to the 
 relief of lord Rawdon, who was then at Cambden ; and, that if he 
 was beaten before the arrival of reenforccments, these succours 
 themselves would be exposed to the almost inevitable peril of being 
 cut in pieces by an enemy incomparably superior in force.' 
 
 The partisans of the contrary opinion maintained, 'that the roads 
 of Virginia were not less, and perhaps more difficult, than those of 
 the Carolinas ; that the tediousness of embarkations proceeded 
 always from cavalry, and that this might easily make its way good 
 by land ; the cavalry officers had asserted it, and especially Tarle- 
 ton, who had offered to execute it ; that consequently, with fair 
 wind, nothing was easier than to arrive in season to the succour of 
 the Carolinas ; that since it had not been possible to conquer Vir- 
 ginia, it was essential at least to retain those provinces ; that the 
 invasion of Virginia involved the certain sacrifice of two provinces, 
 already in possession, if not of three, from the dubious prospect of 
 gaining one only ; that the people of the Carolinas, emboldened by 
 the approach of Greene, and by the distance of the royal army, were 
 already openly tending to a new order of things ; that the colonels 
 Sumpter and Marion showed themselves audaciously in the open, 
 field ; that if there was nothing to fear for Charleston, there was 
 assuredly equal reason for security with respect to Cambden, 
 defended by a numerous garrison, and a general as skilful as valiant; 
 that so long as the places of Charleston and Cambden should remain 
 in the power of his majesty, the Carolinas could not be wrested from 
 his authority, without being immediately and easily replaced under 
 the yoke ; that it was deeply to be regretted that the march upon 
 Cambden had not been undertaken at the very moment when, the 
 army being still upon Cross Creek, it was ascertained that thence to 
 Wilmington the Cape Fear river no longer afforded an open and 
 safe navigation ; that whatever uncertainty might have been thrown 
 upon the success of this operation by the delays which had already 
 taken place, it was nevertheless still possible, and that, consequently, 
 it ought to be undertaken.' 
 
 The first opinion obtained. After having made some stay at 
 Wilmington, for the refreshment of his troops and the collection of 
 provision, Cornwallis directed his march upon Virginia. This reso- 
 lution of the commander of the British forces had the most remarka- 
 ble consequences ; it led to an event which may be considered as 
 the principal cause of the prompt termination of this war, and the 
 consequent acknowledgment of American independence. 
 
 END OF BOOK TWELFTH. 
 
330 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XI11. 
 
 BOOK THIRTEENTH. 
 
 1781. After having pursued each other alternately, for a consi- 
 derable length of time, Greene and Cornwallis diverged, as we have 
 seen, the first upon South Carolina, the second upon Virginia. But 
 while they were thus contending for American provinces, England 
 and Holland were preparing for war, and had even already com- 
 menced reciprocal hostilities. The former, who appeared to have 
 anticipated this war for some time back, and who, being already com- 
 pletely armed, could seize the occasion for making it with advantage, 
 hoped, by a sudden and impetuous attack, to level a decisive blow 
 at the power and wealth of her enemy. Such was the motive 
 which had induced her to hasten her declaration of war. It was not 
 doubted in England but that the success which would be gained 
 over Holland, would afford ample compensation for the losses which 
 had been sustained on the part of the French and Americans. The 
 British cabinet expected thus to bring into the negotiations for peace, 
 whenever they should take place, such an aggregate of advantages, 
 as would be sufficient to procure it the most favorable conditions. 
 The Hollanders, on the other hand, persuaded themselves that they 
 saw in the simultaneous display of those formidable forces to which 
 they were about to join their own, the sure means of resuscitating 
 their ancient maritime glory. They were especially elated with the 
 prospect of recovering the rich possessions which had been wrested 
 from them in preceding wars, and of rescuing their commerce from 
 the outrageous vexation^ of England. The ardor which animated all 
 minds, manifested itself in the preparations that were made in the 
 ports of the republic. The States-General ordered the equipment 
 of ninety-four ships of war, of which, eleven of the line, fifteen of 
 fifty guns, two of forty, and the rest of less force. Eighteen thou- 
 sand seamen formed the crews of this fleet. Fast sailing vessels 
 were despatched to the different Dutch possessions, to apprise the 
 governors of the commencement of hostilities, and to recommend 
 them the greatest vigilance. The king of France ordained that in 
 all the ports of his dominions, any Dutch vessels found therein should 
 receive prompt notice of the new danger they had to fear at sea, on 
 the part of an alert and enterprising enemy. In taking this care of 
 the interests of her new ally, France wished to manifest her grati- 
 tude for the warmth with which Holland had espoused her cause. 
 But unfortunately all these precautions could not operate the bene- 
 ficial effects which were expected from them. The English, who 
 long before the rupture, had meditated the design of attacking Hol- 
 land, profited with success of all the means which they had prepared 
 for her annoyance, before she had time to put herself in a state of 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 331 
 
 defence. Some ships of war and several merchant vessels with 
 valuable cargoes, fell into their power. In the number of the first 
 was the Rotterdam, of fifty guns, which was taken by the Warwick 
 ship of the line. But these losses were trivial, in comparison with 
 those which the Dutch sustained in the East Indies. The British 
 commanders in that part had received early instructions to make 
 themselves masters of the possessions of the republic, whether insular 
 or continental. The security of a long peace had occasioned in 
 them a desuetude of all defensive precaution ; and thus the riches 
 therein amassed, might easily become the prey of the first enemy 
 who should present himself. 
 
 Admiral Rodney, who towards the close of the preceding year bad 
 returned from New York to St. Lucia, and general Vaughan, con- 
 certed their operations forthwith. Herein they moved with the more 
 alacrity, as the king, by a late order, had granted to his land and sea 
 officers a considerable part of the booty that should be gained upon 
 the Dutch. After a vain attempt to recapture the island of St. 
 Vincent, and having, in order to mask the real design, alarmed the 
 inhabitants of Martinico by a sudden appearance upon their coasts, 
 Rodney and Vaughan presented themselves unexpectedly, the third of 
 February, before the island of St. Eustatius, belonging to the Dutch. 
 Their forces consisted of seventeen ships, and four thousand land 
 forces. This island was as defenceless as the wealth it contained 
 was prodigious. Although it is rough and mountainous, and affords 
 one only landing place, and that easily defensible, yet the governor, 
 with a handful of men for all garrison, could have no hope of being 
 able to repulse an attack. The population itself comprised but a 
 very small number of Dutch ; the remainder was composed of men 
 of divers countries and sentiments ; French, Spaniards, Americans, 
 English, all persons occupied exclusively with their commerce, and 
 strangers to military service. The governor himself, almost without 
 soldiers and without arms, would sooner have believed any thing else, 
 than that he was menaced with an approaching attack. 
 
 The island of St. Eustatius, is by nature arid and steril. It pro- 
 duces not above six or seven hundred hogsheads of sugar a year. 
 But it was become at this epoch the most frequented and richest em- 
 porium of the West Indies. Being a free port, it attracted avast 
 conflux of merchants from all parts of the world, assured of finding 
 in it protection, facility of exchanges, and money in abundance. Its 
 neutrality in the midst of belligerent powers, had brought it to this 
 flourishing condition, and rendered it the mart of nations. Thither 
 went the Spaniards and French to dispose of their commodities, 
 and to procure the manufactures of England. Thither repaired the 
 English to sell these merchandises, and to buy those of France and 
 Spain. 
 
332 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIIT. 
 
 But no people derived more profit than the Americans from the 
 fortunate neutrality of St. Eustatius. They carried thither the pro- 
 duce of their soi!, and to the incalculahle utility of the cause they 
 defended, they obtained in return, arms and military stores, with 
 which the French, Spaniards, Dutch, and even the English them- 
 selves, kept that market well supplied. Hence, an orator of the 
 House of Commons, hurried away by a blameable resentment, did 
 not scruple to say ; ' that if St. Eustatius had been sunk to the bot- 
 tom of the ocean, American independence would have been crushed 
 in an instant.' The facts which followed, were but too much in con- 
 sonance with this inhuman language. All Europe resounded with 
 complaints against British avarice. 
 
 Rodney and Vaughan sent a peremptory summons to the governor 
 to surrender the island and its dependencies within an hour ; accom- 
 panied with a declaration or threat, that if any resistance was made, 
 he must abide by the consequences. M. de Graaf, totally ignorant 
 of the rupture, could scarcely believe the officer who delivered the 
 summons to be serious. He, however, returned for answer, that 
 being utterly incapable of making any defence against the force which 
 invested the island, he must, of necessity, surrender it; only recom- 
 mending the town and inhabitants to the clemency and mercy of the 
 British commanders. We arc about to relate what were the effects of 
 this recommendation. The wealth found in the place was so immense, 
 as to excite the astonishment even of the conquerors, notwithstand- 
 ing even their intimate previous knowledge of its nature and circum- 
 stances. All the storehouses were not only filled with the most 
 precious merchandises, but the very streets and beach were covered 
 with hogsheads of tobacco and sugar. The value of the commodities 
 was estimated at a loose, but supposed moderate calculation, as being 
 considerably above three millions sterling. All, without distinction, 
 were seized, inventoried, and confiscated. 
 
 The loss of the Dutch was severe ; it fell principally upon their 
 West India company, with the magistracy and citizens of Amsterdam, 
 to whom a considerable part of the property belonged. The English 
 observed it with no little gratification ; they were irritated against that 
 city more than against any other part of the United Provinces, on 
 account of the warmth it had manifested in favor of France. The 
 greatest weight of the calamity, however, appears to have fallen upon 
 the British merchants, who, confiding in the neutrality of the place, 
 and in some acts of parliament, made to encourage the bringing of 
 their property from the islands lately taken by the French, had accu- 
 mulated a great quantity of West India produce, as well as of Euro- 
 pean goods, in this place. Nor was the loss of the Dutch confined 
 to the seizure of the merchandise on shore ; above two hundred and 
 fifty vessels of all denominations, and many of them richly loaded, 
 were taken in the bay ; exclusive of a Dutch frigate of war, of thirty 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 333 
 
 eight guns, and five armed vessels of less force. But fortune showed 
 herself still more adverse to the Hollanders. Rodney having inform- 
 ation that a fleet of about thirty large ships, richly laden with sugar 
 and otiier West India commodities, had just before his arrival, sailed 
 from Eustatius for Holland, under convoy of a flag-ship of sixty guns, 
 he, with his ordinary activity, immediately despatched two ships of 
 the line, the Monarch and Panther, with the Sybil frigate, in pursuit 
 of them. These soon overtook the convoy. The Dutch admiral, 
 Krull, notwithstanding the great inferiority of his force, resolved to 
 brave all the dangers of combat, rather than to surrender dishonora- 
 bly. With his ship, the Mars, he engaged the Monarch, of seventy- 
 four guns; but he was killed soon after the commencement of the 
 action, and his successor immediately struck. The Panther and 
 Sybil having in the mean time restrained the flight and separation of 
 the merchantmen, the whole convoy was taken. 
 
 The Dutch colors were kept up for some time in the fort of St. 
 Eustatius ; this stratagem was fatal to a considerable number of 
 French, Dutch, and American vessels, which were thus decoyed into 
 the hands of their enemies. The violation of the property of private 
 men, though enemies, a violation not sanctioned by the usages of 
 civilised nations, excited energetic remonstrances on the part of the 
 inhabitants of the British West India islands, and of Great Britain 
 itself, so far as they were interested. They alleged, that their con- 
 nections with St. Eustatius, and the property they had lodged in it, 
 were all in pursuance to, and under the sanction of repeated acts of 
 the British parliament ; that in every age, all conquerors who have 
 not chosen to be classed with barbarians, have respected, not only the 
 private property of their fellow-citizens, but even that of their ene- 
 mies ; and that this example might have the most pernicious conse- 
 quences. l In effect,' said they, ' if, through the incalculable chances 
 of war, our islands should fall into the power of tjie enemy, would he 
 not be authorised by the right of reprisal, to violate the property of 
 private Englishmen, and even to ruin them totally ? Did the French 
 give an example of this barbarous conduct when they became masters 
 of Grenada f Did they lay hands upon the property of a single pri- 
 vate individual, though they had taken the island by assault, and with- 
 out any capitulation ? If the count d' Estaing went so far as to 
 sequester, until peace, the estates of absentees, the court of Versailles 
 was not slow to condemn this resolution of its admiral, by ordering 
 the removal of the sequestrations. St. Eustatius was a free port, 
 and as such recognised by all the maritime powers of Europe, not 
 excepting England herself. Our laws had not only permitted, but 
 even encouraged a commerce with that" island. The officers of the 
 British customs delivered clearances for those very goods destined 
 for St. Eustatius, which are now subjected to confiscation. Has not 
 this trade furnished the means of subsistence to the islands of Anti- 
 VOL. IT. 43 
 
334 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 gun and St. Christophers, whose inhabitants, but for this resource, 
 must have perished by famine, or thrown themselves into the arms of 
 the enemy . ? The colonists of St. Eustatius are indebted in large sums 
 to British merchants ; how will they be able to clear these balances if 
 their effects remain confiscated ? 
 
 ' In a word, it is to be presumed that the conquest of the Dutch 
 islands by the arms of the king, has been undertaken with nobler 
 views than that of pillaging and ruining their inhabitants.' 
 
 All these representations were of no avail. Rodney had acted in 
 strict conformity to the instructions of his government. He answered 
 the complainers, that he could not recover from his astonishment that 
 British merchants, instead of sending their goods into the windward 
 islands belonging to England, had sent them to a leeward island, 
 whither they could only have been transported with intent to supply the 
 wants of the enemies of their king and country. But it is to be observed, 
 that if these British merchants were in fault, the commanders of the 
 king's vessels were still more blameable for having brought in and sold 
 at this same port of St. Eustatius, the prizes they had captured at sea ; 
 some laden with provisions, others with arms and military stores ; 
 which thus found their way to the enemies of Great Britain, and 
 served to recruit their resources for continuing the war. Rodney 
 added, that the island of St. Eustatius was Dutch, every thing in it 
 was Dutch, was under the protection of the Dutch flag, and as Dutch 
 it should be treated. The vigor of these principles was applied like- 
 wise to the neighboring small islands of St. Martin and Saba, which 
 fell at the same time into the power of the English. But the British 
 commanders, not content with pillaging property, proceeded to wreak 
 their cruelty on persons. All individuals not English, were not only 
 banished from the island, but subjected to the most odious vexations. 
 The Jews, who were numerous and wealthy, were the first to expe- 
 rience the brutality of the conqueror. They were all crowded into 
 the customhouse; searched from head to toot; then the skirts of 
 their coats were docked to the waist. Their trunks and portmanteaux 
 were forced open and ransacked. Stripped of their money and effects, 
 they were, in that state of nakedness and wretchedness, transported as 
 outlaws, and landed ,on the island of St. Christophers. A sea captain 
 named Santon, was the superintendent and chief executioner of the 
 barbarity of his chiefs. The Americans soon shared the fate of the 
 Jews. After having undergone a total spoliation, these unhappy people 
 were sent to St. Christophers, as a race devoted to misery and death. 
 Among them, however, were many of those loyalists, who had been 
 obliged to fly their native country through the part which they had 
 taken in support of the British cause and government. 
 
 Thus expelled by their fellow-citizens as friends to the English, and 
 expelled by the English as friends to the Americans, these ill fated 
 refugees were punished as severely for having preserved their fidelity 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 towards the king, as if they had violated it. The assembly of St. 
 Christophers man'rfWted the most honorable compassion for these 
 victims at once of rapine and of cruelty; they passed an immediate 
 act for their relief and future provision, until they should have time 
 to recover from their calamitous situation. The French and Dutch 
 merchants were banished the last from St. Eustatius. This decree 
 was executed with particular rigor towards those of Amsterdam. In 
 the meantime, public sales were advertised, invitation given, and pro- 
 tection afforded, to purchasers of all nations and sorts ; and the island 
 of St. Etisfatius became one of the greatest auctions that ever was 
 opened in the universe. It was attended by an immense concourse 
 of the merchants of friendly or neutral nations ; they bought as well 
 for their own account as on commission for the French and Spaniards, 
 to whom their vicinity and the war rendered these goods more valu- 
 able. Thus, after having so cruelly treated the inhabitants of St. 
 Eustatius, under the pretence that they had supplied the enemies of 
 England, in the ordinary way of commerce, the British commanders 
 undertook themselves to supply those enemies by opening a public 
 market, and bidding buyers by proclamation. Never perhaps was a 
 more considerable sale ; the gains of Rodney and Vaughan were 
 immense ; but it was fated that they should not long enjoy them ; 
 heaven, as we shall soon see, had in reserve an exemplary chastise- 
 ment for their avarice. 
 
 The loss of St. Eustatius was riot the only misfortune which befell 
 the Dutch in the West Indies. It seemed as if the English, in their 
 zeal to reduce their new enemy, had forgotten that they had any 
 other to encounter. Holland possessed on the continent of South 
 America, in that vast country anciently called Guiana, the important 
 colony of Surinam. The governor had made no preparations for 
 defence ; he was even ignorant of the declaration of war. But all 
 of a sudden he was visited by a squadron of British privateers, mostly 
 belonging to Bristol. In contempt of all danger, they entered the 
 rivers of Demerary and Issequibo, and brought out from under the 
 guns of the Dutch forts and batteries, almost all the vessels of any 
 value in either river. The colonists of that part, seized with con- 
 sternation at the approach of these audacious cruisers sent to make a 
 tender of their submission to the governor of Barbadoes ; requiring 
 no other terms but a participation of those which had been granted 
 to St. Eustatius, without knowing however, what they were. The 
 governor readily consented to their wishes. When shortly after they 
 were apprised of the fate of St. Eustatius, they began to tremble for 
 their own. But Rodney showed himself more humane towards the 
 colonists of Demerary, Issequibo, and Berbice, who had voluntarily 
 put themselves under the British dominion, than he had been towards 
 those of St. Eustatius. He guaranteed the safety of persons and 
 property, and made no change in their existing laws and authorities. 
 
336 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xlii, 
 
 Thus fortune every where smiled upon the English, in their first 
 attempts against the Dutch possessions in the West Indies. They 
 were less successful against the Spaniards, who had recently invaded, 
 in considerable force, the confines of West Florida. Don Galvez, 
 the governor of Louisiana, and admiral don Solano, after having 
 been hattered by a horrible tempest, had arrived before, and laid 
 siege to Pensacola, the capital of that province. The place was 
 strong ; and general Campbell, the commandant, defended himself 
 for a long time with great valor. But a bomb having fallen upon the 
 powder magazine, it exploded, and domolished the principal redoubt. 
 The Spaniards occupied it immediately, and made their dispositions 
 for assaulting the body of the place. Campbell then thought it better 
 to capitulate ; he obtained the most honorable conditions. Thus all 
 West Florida, which had been for the English one of the most 
 precious fruits of the war of Canada, returned after a few years 
 under the domination of the Spaniards. 
 
 The order of history requires that we should now turn our atten- 
 tion from fields of battle, upon the cabinets which directed the 
 operations we have witnessed ; and that we should endeavor to 
 describe what was, at this period, the policy of the belligerent 
 powers. 
 
 The Americans conceived they had grounds to complain bitterly 
 of the French, their allies. They alleged that, saving some vain 
 demonstrations from without, France had afforded them no effica- 
 cious assistance whatever ; and that she left them to struggle by 
 themselves against a powerful enemy. They affirmed, that ' the 
 French troops disembarked at Rhode Island, had not been able to 
 render them any service through defect of a sufficient naval force ; 
 that they must continue equally useless, so long as they were not 
 supported by a respectable squadron ; that no success could be hoped 
 for, in that part, without being master at sea ; that meanwhile, the 
 English continued to possess Georgia, the greatest part of South 
 Carolina, all New York, and, moreover, they had now invaded Vir- 
 ginia ; that not a French battalion had been seen to move for the 
 defence or recovery of any of these provinces ; that while awaiting the 
 cooperation of their allies, the United States were oppressed by the 
 weight of an enterprise so much above their strength, that the war 
 consumed their population, paralysed all industry, suspended all 
 culture, and, consequently, drained the sources of public revenue ; 
 and that to crown so many calamities, there appeared no prospect of 
 their termination.' 
 
 While the Americans thus vented their discontent, no little aston- 
 ishment was excited in Europe, that so formidable a coalition should 
 have proved so feeble in effect against the common enemy. Far from 
 bending, the English seemed, on the contrary, to have acquired more 
 elastic forces, and a more daring spirit. They pressed the Ameri- 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 337 
 
 cans with vigor, while they held the mastery of the West Indian 
 seas, possessed themselves of the Dutch colonies, made conquests in 
 the East Indies, and kept fortune in equilibrium in Europe. This 
 state of things seemed to cloud the glory of the French and Spanish 
 names. The court of Versailles, as the soul and principal mover of 
 all this mass of forces, was itself the object of the heavy complaints 
 of the Catholic king, who reproached it for not having promoted the 
 execution of his favorite projects, the conquest of Jamaica, and the 
 red union of Gibraltar ; the siege of which he had already com- 
 menced. The Hollanders, on their part, who already felt the anguish 
 of so considerable losses, exclaimed that they were abandoned, 
 without any appearance of sympathy, to perils which they should not 
 have involved themselves 'in but for the counsels and instigations of 
 France. Their complaints were the more dolorous, as they had just 
 been informed that a formidable expedition was fitting out, in the 
 ports of Great Britain, against the Cape of Good Hope, an establish- 
 ment so vital for the preservation of their East India commerce. 
 They saw themselves menaced, in the oriental hemisphere, with 
 blows no less cruel than those which had so lately stunned them in 
 the New World. They perceived but too clearly that before it 
 would be possible for them to completetheir preparations of defence, 
 and to despatch succours into those remote regions, the English 
 would have time to accomplish their long meditated designs. 
 
 Yielding to these various considerations and to the voice of his 
 own interest, the king of France determined to exert twofold vigor 
 and activity in the present campaign, in order to repair the time lost 
 in the preceding year. Accordingly the labors of the arsenal at 
 Brest were pushed with new ardor, while upon the different points of 
 the kingdom, the land forces held themselves in readiness to act. 
 Three principal objects were contemplated by the ministry. The 
 first was, to send such a fleet to the West Indies, as when united 
 to the squadron already in the ports of Martinico, should secure to 
 France a maritime superiority in those seas. This fleet, the com- 
 mand of which was intrusted to the count de Grasse, was to carry 
 out a strong body of land troops. By means of this reenforcernent, 
 the marquis de Bouille would find himself in a situation to undertake 
 some important expedition against the British islands. After the 
 accomplishment whereof, and before the season of hostilities should 
 have elapsed, the count de Grasse was to repair to the coasts of 
 America, in order to cooperate with the count de Rochambeau and 
 general Washington. The second, was to send a squadron into the 
 African seas, in order to shield the Cape of Good Hope from the 
 danger that menaced it. After having provided for the security of 
 that colony, the squadron was to proceed to the East Indies, where 
 admiral Hughes had given a temporary superiority to the British flag. 
 Finally, the ministers meditated a brilliant stroke, in the seas of 
 
33S THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 Europe, in favor of the allied courts, and principally of Spain. An 
 expedition against Minorca was decided with unanimity. The Eng- 
 lish had penetrated, in great part, the plans of their enemies ; and 
 were preparing to oppose them with all those obstacles which they 
 deemed the most likely to render them abortive. They exerted an 
 extraordinary activity in equipping a fleet, which was to carry lord 
 Cornvvallis a reenforcement of several English regiments and three 
 thousand Hessians. It was hoped that this addition of force would 
 enable that general not only to maintain the conquests he had made, 
 but also to extend still further the progress of his arms. The victo- 
 ries of Cambden and Guildford had inspired the British nation with 
 new confidence ; all promised themselves a speedy conclusion of the 
 war, and the subjugation of America. The British ministers even 
 flattered themselves that the fleet they sent to the West Indies, though 
 it was not considerable, would nevertheless prove sufficient, by its 
 junction with the naval force already stationed there, to uphold the 
 present preponderance of England in those seas. The public atten- 
 tion was particularly attracted by an armament which consisted of 
 one ship of seventy-four guns, one of fifty-four, three of fifty, with 
 some frigates, cutters, fire-ships and other light vessels. This squa- 
 dron was to serve as escort to a great number of transports loaded 
 with an immense quantity of arms and military stores. General 
 Meadows embarked in it with a body of three thousand picked sol- 
 diers. The fleet was under the orders of commodore Johnstone. 
 Manifold were the conjectures in public circulation respecting the 
 object of this expedition, which the government studied to cover with 
 impenetrable secrecy. It was generally presumed to be destined for 
 the East Indies, in order to reduce all the French possessions in that 
 part. This supposition, so far as appeared from the events which 
 followed, was not destitute of foundation. But it would seem also 
 that the war which broke out against Holland, constrained the British 
 ministry to change the destination of this armament, or at least to 
 restrict it to the attack of the Cape of Good Hope, and the reen- 
 forcement of the troops which guarded the establishments in the 
 hither peninsula of India. It was deemed essential to provide for 
 their safety, even though it were not permitted by circumstances to 
 think of conquering those of the enemy. But of all the cares which 
 occupied the British cabinet at this epoch, it assuredly had none 
 more urgent than that of revictualling Gibraltar. Herein, besides 
 the importance of the place, the honor of the British nation was 
 deeply interested. The Spaniards and English seemed to have set 
 each other at defiance at the foot of this rock. The first relying 
 upon the fleet which they had at Cadiz, expected to be able to in- 
 tercept whatever succours should approach for the relief of the 
 garrison. It already began to suffer excessively from the scarcity of 
 provisions ; the supplies which admiral Rodney had introduced the 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 339 
 
 preceding year, were almost entirely consumed, and what remained 
 were so marred as scarcely to be edible. Already general Elliot 
 had been constrained to lessen a fourth of his soldiers' ration. In 
 order to give them the example of privations, the officers ceased 
 to dress their hair with powder. But the inhabitants of the city 
 suffered still more from the absolute want of the necessaries of life. 
 Such was the vigilance, and such the industry of the Spaniards in 
 their endeavors to cut off all relief by sea, that since the supplies of 
 Rodney, scarcely a few vessels from the African shore and Minorca 
 had been able to make good their entrance into the port of Gibraltar. 
 But how far was these feeble succours from being in proportion to the 
 exigency ! Besides, the prices which the masters of these vessels 
 demanded for their commodities were so exorbitant, as to exceed 
 the faculties of the greater part of the inhabitants. The miserable 
 remains of the old provisions, spoilt as they were, commanded extra- 
 vagant rates.* 
 
 The garrison supported all their sufferings with an heroic firmness; 
 but without prompt succours it was impossible to prevent that for- 
 midable place, the key of the Mediterranean, from soon returning 
 under the domination of its ancient masters. The general attention, 
 in England, was directed towards this important point. 
 
 In Holland, meanwhile, the greatest industry was exerted in equip- 
 ping a fleet that should be capable of maintaining the dignity of the 
 republic, and of resuscitating its ancient glory. It was particularly 
 intended to protect the commerce of the Baltic against the rapacity 
 of England. These laudable intentions, however, were not attended 
 with all that effect which was to have been wished. The government 
 overruled the conflicting parties, but it could not prevent their fer- 
 menting covertly. Besides, a long peace had enervated minds, and 
 caused the neglect of naval preparations. 
 
 Such were, about that time, the projects and dispositions of the 
 powers engaged in this memorable contest. The preparatives of 
 war were immense; the universe was in expectation of the most 
 important events. The English were the first to put to sea. Their 
 intent was to succour Gibraltar. On the thirteenth of March, a 
 fleet of twenty-eight ships of the line set sail from Portsmouth. It 
 wns obliged to cruise some days upon the coasts of Ireland, to wait 
 for the victualling ships and merchantmen which were assembled, in 
 
 * Old sea biscuit, quite mouldy, brought a shilling sterling the pound ; and difficult to 
 be found. Sour flour, and damaged peas, were worth one shilling and four pence the 
 pound. Black salt, the sweepings of warehouses, eight pence per pound ; butter, three 
 shillings per pound; a turkey, when to be had, thirty shillings ; a sucking pig forty 
 shillings; a duck, ten shillings and six pence ; a lean fowl, nine shillings; a loin of veal 
 at least a guinea ; and the head of an ox was sold at. a still greater price. Firewood 
 was so scarce, that cold water was used for washing linen, and the flatiron was 
 dispensed with ; a thing which proved very prejudicial to the health of the troops, during 
 the cold, humid season, which prevailed in the course of that winter. 
 
340 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII, 
 
 very great number in the road of Cork. The convoys bound to the 
 two Indies departed under the protection of the fleet. When con- 
 ducted out of danger from the hostile fleets, they were to continue 
 their voyage. The squadron of commodore Johnstone sailed in 
 company with the great fleet; being destined upon the expedition 
 against the Cape of Good Hope, it was to escort the East India 
 convoy up to that point. The armament was commanded by the 
 admirals Darby, Digby, and Lockhart Ross, each heading one of 
 the three divisions of which it was composed. The necessity of re- 
 victualling Gibraltar was notoriously evident, and the preparations 
 made by Great Britain for its accomplishment, could no longer be 
 concealed. The English themselves openly professed their inten- 
 tions" on that head. The Spaniards were consequently too well 
 advised, not to have taken all the precautions in their power to con- 
 found the efforts of their enemies. They had armed in the port of 
 Cadiz, a fleet of thirty sail of the line. The court had placed it 
 under the conduct of don Lewis de Cordova, a seaman of high 
 reputation. This was without doubt an imposing force, and the 
 Spaniards had exaggerated it greatly beyond the truth, in order to 
 deter the English, if possible, from executing their intended enter- 
 prise. Wishing to corroborate also by his audacity, any discouraging 
 apprehensions which the enemy might have entertained, don Lewis 
 often issued from the port of Cadiz to parade along the coasts of 
 Portugal, and even upon the route which the English must keep in 
 sailing towards Gibraltar. The Spaniards, moreover, gave out that 
 they were about to be joined by strong divisions of the French squa- 
 drons then at anchor as well in the Atlantic ports as in that of Toulon. 
 There was, in effect, in the single port of Brest, so formidable a fleet, 
 that it would have sufficed alone to make a stand against the whole 
 British armament, and even to engage it with good hope of victory. 
 No less than twenty-six sail of the line were in that port in readiness 
 to put to sea. If this fleet should have made its junction with that 
 of Spain, the allies would have acquired such a preponderance in 
 those seas, as to have rendered the revictualling of Gibraltar an ex- 
 tremely difficult exterprise for the English. The Spaniards confi- 
 dently depended upon the cooperation of the French. But the lat- 
 ter had it too much at heart to prosecute their designs in the W r est 
 Indies, and upon the American continent, as likewise to reestablish 
 their affairs in the east, to be willing to direct all their efforts singly 
 towards an object which had no real and direct utility but for Spain 
 alone. Accordingly, the count de Grasse put to sea, the twenty- 
 second of March, from the port of Brest, shaping his course towards 
 the West Indies. M. de Suffren sailed in company with him, having 
 under his orders a squadron consisting of five ships of the line, seve- 
 ral frigates, and a strong body of land forces. He had instructions 
 to separate from the great fleet off Madeira, and to steer to the south. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 341 
 
 towards the point of Africa ; to preserve the Cape of Good Hope, 
 and afterwards proceed to the East Indies. Thus all these naval 
 forces, charged by their respective governments with the most im- 
 portant operations, got under sail almost at the same lime. Without 
 the delay which detained the English upon the coasts of Ireland, it 
 is altogether probable that the French would have fallen in with 
 them, and that they would have settled by a decisive battle in the 
 seas of Europe, that quarrel for which they were going to fight in 
 the two Indies. 
 
 Admiral Darby, sped by a favorable wind, stood for Cape St. 
 Vincent, which having made, he proceeded with the greatest circum- 
 spection, on account of the proximity of the Spanish armament. 
 But don Lewis de Cordova, who for several days had been cruising 
 in the bay of Cadiz, was no sooner apprised of the approach of the 
 English, than he lost all .confidence in his own force. Forgetting 
 the importance of the post he had to defend, instead of awaiting the 
 enemy, he returned with precipitation to Cadiz, leaving him the ways 
 free to Gibraltar. 
 
 Admiral Darby reconnoitred Cadiz, and finding the Spaniards 
 were in no disposition to come forth, he immediately pushed forward 
 his convoy, consisting of about a hundred sail, under the guard of a 
 certain number of ships of war. A part of this squadron was to 
 take post in the bay of Gibraltar itself, to cover the transports against 
 the attempts of the Spanish gunboats ; the rest was destined to cruise 
 at the entrance of the strait, towards the Mediterranean, in order to 
 oppose any hostile force that might present itself on that side. The 
 admiral himself remained before Cadiz to observe the motions of the 
 Spaniards with due diligence. The event justified his dispositions. 
 The gunboats, it is true," made frequent attacks upon the transports, 
 and that with the rnoi'e audacity, as their inconsiderable size screened 
 them in a manner from the effects of the enemy's artillery. The 
 annoyance of this musquito fleet, put the English out of all patience ; 
 but still it had no result of any importance. They succeeded in 
 getting ashore all their munitions of war, and ail their provisions ; 
 their exultation equalled the consternation of the Spaniards ; all Eu- 
 rope was in astonishment. The king of Spain, who had set his heart 
 upon the conquest of Gibraltar, and who had already expended so 
 much treasure in the prosecution of this enterprise, persuaded him- 
 self that he was on the point of reaping the fruit of his efforts. 
 When apprised of the event which still retarded the attainment of 
 his hopes, he flattered himself that his land troops would prove, per- 
 haps, more fortunate than his naval forces. His ardor was also 
 stimulated by an eager desire to wipe ofF the stain which he was 
 apprehensive would attach to his arms from the relief of Gibraltar. 
 The labors of the camp of St. Roch were resumed with increase of 
 activity ; the trenches and works which beset the fortress, were fur- 
 VOL. n. 44 
 

 o42 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 nished with an immense quantity of artillery. The batteries mount- 
 ed no less than one hundred and sixty pieces of heavy cannon, with 
 eighty mortars of the largest caliher. On the twelfth of April, the 
 British fleet being still at anchor in the port of Gibraltar, the ^vhoie of 
 this train began to shower upon the place its tremendous volleys of balls 
 and bombs. The narrow extent of the spot upon which they fell, left 
 no other refuge to the besieged but the casemates and vaulted places. 
 General Elliot, the governor, did not remain a peaceable spectator 
 of this tempest ; he answered it bolt for bolt, thunder for thunder. 
 The whole mountain, enveloped in flame and smoke from its base to 
 its summit, resembled a volcano in the height of the most terrible 
 eruption. The two neighboring shores of Europe and Africa were 
 lined with people, who had thronged thither to contemplate this dread- 
 ful spectacle. But the inhabitants of the unhappy town were more 
 exposed even than the soldiers themselves. Their terror was great, 
 but their dangers were still greater. The limbs of the dead and dying 
 were scattered upon the ground ; women, with children in their arms, 
 ran distractedly imploring a shelter which could not be offered them. 
 Some were seen crushed at the same time with their precious 
 burthen; and torn in a thousand pieces by the bursting bombs. 
 Others, with trembling hands, let themselves down precipices in 
 order to retire the farthest possible from the seat of. danger ; many 
 threw themselves into the casemates, where, breathing an infected 
 air, and deprived of repose by the dismal cries of the wounded who 
 expired around them, they thought themselves happy in having 
 escaped an inevitable death. The town, situated upon the declivity of 
 the rock, and next the sea towards the west, was demolished to its 
 foundations. The Spanish gunboats contributed especially to this 
 disaster. Under cover of night, they slipped between the British 
 vessels, and after having effected their purpose, profited of a wind, 
 which commonly springs up in the morning, to return to the port of 
 Algesiras. Their destructive fire often reached those unhappy per- 
 sons who had sought, upon the flank of the mountain, a refuge 
 against the artillery of the Spanish lines. It continued to batter 
 the place for upwards of three weeks with hardly any intermis- 
 sion, and was answered with equal vigor. The firing was then 
 relaxed on both sides ; the besiegers became sensible that their efforts 
 resulted in little more than a vain noise, and the besieged thought it 
 imprudent to expend their ammunition without necessity. Scarcely 
 a few shot, discharged by intervals from the fortress, attested that 
 the garrison were upon the alert ; the greater part of the time, gene- 
 ral Elliot observed, in apparent tranquillity, the fruitless toils of his 
 enemy. It was calculated that in this short space of time, the Spa- 
 niards consumed fifty tons of .gunpowder ; they had fired seventy- 
 five thousand volleys of cannon balls, and twenty-five thousand of 
 bombs. Notwithstanding the narrowness of the place in which the 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 343 
 
 English were immured, they had lost but few. men by the fire of this 
 immense artillery; their wounded did not exceed two hundred and 
 fifty. As to the inhabitants, seeing t'heir houses destroyed, and in 
 continual dread of new disasters, they demanded permission to retire. 
 General Elliot acquiesced in their desires, after having furnished 
 them with all the assistance in his power. The greater part em- 
 barked in the fleet which had victualled the place, and repaired to 
 England. 
 
 Before it had arrived there, fortune, propitious to the French, 
 inflicted a heavy stroke upon their enemies ; which was considered 
 as a just chastisement for the robberies committed at St. Eustatius. 
 Intelligence had been received in France, that a numerous convoy 
 of ships laden with the rich spoils of that island, had left it about the 
 last of March, and were on their way for the ports of Great Britain. 
 It was also known, that this convoy was to be followed by another 
 not less valuable, which was freighted with the produce of Jamaica. 
 The first was guarded by four ships of war under admiral Hotham. 
 The moment could not hnve been more favorable to the French, 
 since the great English fleet was employed in succouring Gibraltar. 
 The court of Versailles knew very well how to profit of so fair an 
 occasion ; it had equipped with great celerity in the port of Brest, a 
 squadron destined to intercept the expected convoys. The cheva- 
 lier de la Motte Piquet put to sea the fifteenth of April, at the head 
 of eight ships of the line, all excellent sailers. He struck into the 
 middle of the convoy of St. Eustatius, and dispersed it entirely. 
 Twenty-two ships fell into his power, two others were taken by pri- 
 vateers. Some few, with the ships of war that had escorted them, 
 made their way good into the ports of Ireland. The British mer- 
 chants who had insured the captured ships^ lost by this stroke 
 upwards of seven hundred thousand pounds sterling. Admiral Darby, 
 during his homeward passage, was very early informed ,of the disaster. 
 He instantly made his dispositions for cutting off the retreat ol la 
 Motte Piquet. But the French admiral, attentive to all the movements 
 of the enemy, and content with the brilliant advantages which he had 
 just obtained, left the convoy of Jamaica to pursue its voyage in 
 tranquillity, and returned without accident to Brest. So rich a cap- 
 ture created no little festivity in France. 
 
 Those who had projected this expedition, and those who had 
 executed it, were loaded with just praises. The fleet of admiral 
 Darby recovered the ports of England. In the meantime, the two 
 fleets'of Johnstone and Suffren had put to sea for the Cape of Good 
 Hope. These two admirals had the most exact information respect- 
 ing each other's departure, intended route, and ulterior destination. 
 But the Englishman was obliged to touch at the bay of Praya, in St. 
 Jago, the most considerable of the Cape de Verd islands. He was 
 occupied in recruiting his water and provision for the long voyage 
 
344 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 he was about to undertake, and a great part of his crews were on 
 shore. M. de Suffren was soon apprised of it, and immediately 
 shaped his course with press of sail for the bay of Pray a, where he 
 hoped to surprise the enemy. He kept so close along under a 
 tongue of land which covers the port towards the east, that he was 
 already on the point of entering it without being discovered. But 
 the British ship Isis, which lay near the mouth of the bay, perceived 
 beyond the eastern point the tops of several masts. Afterwards, by 
 the mode of manoeuvring, it was known that they were French, and 
 the signal of enemy sails was given immediately. The commodore 
 recalled his crews from the shore, and made all his dispositions for 
 battle. Meanwhile, the French squadron doubled the point, and 
 appeared all at once at the entrance of the bay. The attack com- 
 menced forthwith. The English had one ship of seventy-four guns, 
 four others of inferior force, three frigates, with several East India 
 Company ships, armed for war. The French had two ships of 
 seventy-four, and three of sixty-four guns. Alter having cannonaded 
 the Isis, which presented herself the first, they forced the entrance 
 of the harbor, passing into the midst of the British squadron, and 
 firing double broadsides, M. de Trernignon, with his ship the Hanni- 
 bal, which was ahead of the rest, advanced as far as possible, and 
 with admirable intrepidity cast anchor in the midst of the British 
 line, which assailed him from right and left. He was followed by 
 M. de Suffren, in the Hero, and afterwards the chevalier de Car- 
 daillac joined them with the Artesien. The two other ships could 
 not approacli near enough to support them, and having fallen to 
 leeward, after having discharged a few broadsides, they stood out to 
 sea. Two British ships, the Isis and the Rornney, were unable to 
 take any considerable part in the action ; the first having suffered 
 severely from the fire of the French, at the time of their entrance 
 into the bay, the second finding herself advanced too far within it. 
 The engagement was therefore reduced to that of three ships of the 
 line on either side ; the French fired both starboard and larboard 
 guns, as they had placed themselves in the centre of the English. 
 But at length, the British frigates, with the armed ships of the India 
 Company, having rallied, came up to the support of the commodore. 
 After the action had lasted an hour and a half, the Artesien having 
 lost her captain, and being no longer able to sustain so fierce a fire, 
 cut her cables and drew off. M. de Suffren, finding himself de- 
 prived of his rear guard, and exposed to be cannonaded at once on 
 both sides as well as in front and rear, took a similar resolution to 
 withdraw from the harbor. The retreat of the Hero and Artesien 
 left the Hannibal alone to sustain the whole weight of the enemy's 
 fire, and of course, she suffered excessively ; she lost first her mizen- 
 raast, then her mainmast, and at last her rudder. Nevertheless, 
 by incredible exertions she made her way good to the mouth of the 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 345 
 
 bay, where she was taken in tow by the ship Sphynx. Her masts 
 being refitted as well as it was possible, she rejoined the rest of the 
 squadron. The English would fain have followed the French, in 
 order to recommence the engagement ; but the wind, the currents, 
 the approach of night, and the disabled state of the Isis, prevented 
 them from doing it. Such was the combat of Praya, which gave 
 occasion to several observations upon the conduct of the two admi- 
 rals. The British commander was censured for having anchored so 
 imprudently in an open and defenceless bay, when he must have 
 known that the enemy could not be far off. Vainly would he have 
 alleged, that he believed himself protected by the neutrality of the 
 place, the island of St. Jago belonging to the crown of Portugal ; for 
 be affirmed himself, that when the French see an opportunity for 
 seizing their advantage they are not wont to respect these neutrali- 
 ties ; an accusation which, though it were founded, appears not the 
 Jess extraordinary from the mouth of an Englishman. Commodore 
 Johnstone, committed, besides, great errors, in landing so great a 
 part of his crews, in placing his weakest ships at the entrance of the 
 bay, and in letting the Hannibal escape notwithstanding her crippled 
 condition. JM. de Suffren, it was said on the other * hand, ought not 
 to have attempted to combat at anchor. Every probability assured 
 him a complete victory, if, instead of losing time in coming to anchor, 
 he had immediately resorted to boarding, or even if he had fought 
 under sail an enemy that was in a good degree surprised and unpre- 
 pared for action. 
 
 As soon as the British squadron was refitted, it put to sea in pur- 
 suit of the French ; but finding them drawn up in order of battle, it 
 avoided a second engagement ; night, which soon came on, separat- 
 ed the two squadrons. Commodore Johnstone returned to the bay 
 of Praya. M. de Suffren, continuing his voyage to the south, and 
 towing the Hannibal, repaired to False Bay at the Cape of Good 
 Hope. He was rejoined there by his convoy, which, during his 
 attack of Praya, he had left at sea, under the escort of the corvette 
 In Fortune. Thus was frustrated the design which the English had 
 meditated against the Cape. Constrained to relinquish all hope of 
 conquest, they directed their force against the commerce of their ene- 
 mies. Commodore Johnstone was advised by his light vessels, that 
 several ships of the Dutch East India Company, very richly laden, 
 lay at anchor in the bay of Saldana, not far from the Cape itself. 
 Upon making the coasts of Africa, acting himself as pilot to his 
 squadron in the midst of shoals and reefs, crowding all sail by night, 
 concealing himself by day, he manoeuvred with such dexterity, thai 
 he arrived unexpectedly before the bay. He captured five of the 
 most valuable ships ; the others were burnt. After having obtained 
 this advantage, which preserved him at least from the reproach of 
 having undertaken an expedition without utility, he detached a part 
 
340 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X11I. 
 
 of his force to India, under general Meadows, and returned himself 
 with the Romney, his frigates and rich prizes, to England. M. de 
 Suftren having thrown a strong; garrison into the Cape of Good Hope, 
 continued his voyage for the East Indies. Thus the war which 
 raged already in Europe, America, and Africa, was about to redouble 
 its violence upon the distant hanks of the Ganges. 
 
 Meanwhile, Gibraltar continued to hold out ; to the furious attack 
 given that place, had succeeded an almost total calm. The gun- 
 boats, alone, profited of the obscurity of night, to keep the gar- 
 rison in continual alarms. In order to restrain them, the governor 
 caused his advanced batteries to be armed with guns and mortar 
 pieces, peculiarly calculated to throw their shot to a great distance. 
 As they could now reach the camp of St. Roch, every time the gun- 
 boats made their attacks, the Spanish lines were assailed by the most 
 violent fire. Don Mendoza having perceived that general Elliot did 
 thus by way of reprisal for the assaults of the gunboats, ordered the 
 commanders of the flotilla to desist from all further insult against the 
 place, and to keep their station quietly in the port of Algesiras. He 
 enjoined them, however, to exert the greatest vigilance to prevent 
 the entrance of supplies into the place. The Spaniards were inde- 
 fatigable in pushing forward their trenches. They had now brought 
 them quite to the foot of the rock, so that the circumvallation extend- 
 ed from right to left across the whole breadth of the isthmus by 
 which the rock itself connects with the main land. They had exca- 
 vated upon their left the mine of communication between their outer 
 circumvallation and the parallels. General Elliot, full of security 
 upon the summit of the rock he defended, unwilling to lavish his 
 ammunition, without utility, had not disturbed the workmen. But 
 when he saw ihat their works were completed, he resolved to de- 
 stroy them by the most unexpected and vigorous sally. The twenty- 
 seventh of November, towards midnight, he issued from the place at 
 the head of three brigades of infantry, commanded by general Ross. 
 These troops were followed by a great number of pioneers, miners 
 and engineers. The sally was conducted with suitable order and 
 silence. The English appeared all of a sudden before the advanced 
 guards, and routed them in a few instants ; they found themselves 
 masters of the first parallel and proceeded to destroy it. The engi- 
 neers, furnished with combustible materials, set fire to every thing 
 that was capable of receiving it. The carriages of the cannon were 
 rendered unserviceable, and the pieces, including the mortars, were 
 spiked with admirable promptitude. The workmen tore up the plat- 
 forms and traverses, and levelled the breastworks with the ground. 
 All the magazines were successively consigned to the flames. A sin- 
 gle half hour witnessed the destruction of those works which had been 
 erected at so vast an expense of toil and treasure. The Spaniards, 
 whether from the stupor of consternation, or supposing the enemy to 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 347 
 
 be much stronger than he was in reality, were afraid to go out of 
 their carnp to repulse him. They contented themselves with keep- 
 ins; up an incessant, though harmless, fire with halls and grape-shot. 
 The English, after having accomplished their purpose, returned 
 sound and safe into the fortress. 
 
 In the meantime, a project was conceived in Europe, the execution 
 of which could not fail to give a severe shock to the British power ia 
 the Mediterranean. The Spaniards remained very ill satisfied with 
 France ; they helieved themselves authorised to reproach her with 
 having hitherto consulted exclusively her own interests, to the preju- 
 dice of her allies. They complained, with peculiar bitterness, that 
 she had in no shape promoted the expeditions of Jamaica and Gibral- 
 tar, as if she were loath to see the prosperity of the Spanish arms in 
 the seas of America and upon the European continent. The re- 
 victualling of Gibraltar, on the part of the English, by dint of force, 
 without a single movement of any sort being made by the French to 
 prevent it, and the despair experienced by the Spaniards at having 
 consumed themselves in vain efforts for the reduction of that place, 
 had prodigiously increased their ill humor, and caused it to degene- 
 rate into an open discontent. The Spanish people murmured in bold 
 language ; the court was become the object of the most vehement 
 animadversion. It was accused of having undertaken this expedition 
 merely in subservience to the ambitious views of France, and not at 
 all for the interests of the Spanish nation ; the Spaniards called it a 
 court war, a family war. Stimulated by the vivacity of these com- 
 plaints, and reflecting moreover that the reduction, in whatever mode, 
 of the British power, was the augmentation of her own, France took 
 the resolution to give into some enterprise whose immediate fruit 
 should be gathered by Spain. An expedition against Jamaica neces- 
 sarily involving long delays, and a fresh attack upon Gibraltar pro- 
 mising no better than dubious results, it was determined to attempt 
 an operation, the success of which appeared the more probable, as 
 the English were fur from expecting it; and that was, the conquest 
 of the island of Minorca. If France had motives for wishing it with 
 eagerness, it must have been still more desirable for the Spaniards. 
 Minorca is so favorably situated for cruising, that it was become the 
 habitual resort of an immense number of privateers. Their audacity 
 was not confined to infesting the seas, and disturbing the navigation 
 and commerce of the Spaniards and French ; they even intercepted 
 neutral vessels employed in trafficing with these two nations ; this 
 island also served as a place of arms for the English. They deposited 
 in it the munitions of war and provisions which they drew from the 
 neighboring coasts of Africa, whether for the use of their shipping or 
 for the consumption of Gibraltar. The facility of the enterprise was 
 another persuasive invitation to attempt it. In effect, however impos- 
 ing was Fort St. Philip, from its position and works, the garrison which 
 
348 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 guarded it was far from corresponding to the strength and importance 
 of the place ; it consisted of only four regiments, two of them British 
 and two Hanoverians, who all together did not exceed two thousand 
 men. Notwithstanding the salubrity of the air, and the abundance of 
 fresh provisions, these troops were infected with the scurvy. They 
 were commanded by the generals Murray and Draper. 
 
 In pursuance of the plan concerted between the courts of Versailles 
 and Madrid, the count de Guichen departed from Brest, towards the 
 last of June, with eighteen sail of the line, and repaired to the port 
 of Cadiz, in order to join the Spanish fleet which awaited him there. 
 He had under him two general officers of great reputation, M. de la 
 Motte Piquet, and M. de Beausset. The Spanish fleet, commanded by 
 don Lewis de Cordova, and by the two vice-admirals, don Gaston and 
 don Vincent Droz, was composed of thirty ships of the line. A corps 
 of ten thousand selected troops was embarked without any delay en 
 board of this armament. It set sail the twenty-second of July, and 
 after having been much thwarted by the winds, appeared in sight of 
 Minorca the twentieth of August. The debarkation was effected in 
 Musquito bay. The whole island was occupied without obstacle, in- 
 cluding the city of Mahon, its capital. The garrison, too feeble to 
 defend all these posts, had evacuated them, and thrown itself into 
 Fort St. Philip. A little after, four French regiments arrived from 
 Toulon, under the conduct of the baron de Falkenhayn. The two 
 courts had confided the general command of all the forces employed 
 upon this expedition to the duke de Crillon, distinguished as well for 
 his military knowledge, as for his courage and thirst of glory. He 
 had entered into the service of Spain, and, as a Frenchman of illus- 
 trious birth, he was thought the most suitable personage to head the 
 common enterprise. 
 
 But the siege of Fort St. Philip presented difficulties of no ordinary 
 magnitude. The works are cut in the solid rock, and mined in all 
 their parts. The glacis, and covered way, likewise cut in the rock, 
 are mined, countermined, palisaded, and furnished with batteries 
 which defend their approaches. Around the fosse, which is twenty 
 feet in depth, runs a covered and looped gallery, which affords a 
 secure shelter to the garrison. Subterraneous communications are 
 excavated between the outer works and the body of the place. In 
 the latter, which forms a sort of labyrinth, are sunk deep wells with 
 djawn covers, and barbacans pierce the walls in all directions. The 
 castle itself, also surrounded by a countermined covered way, is 
 defended not only by counterscarps and half moons, but also by a 
 wall sixty feet high, and a fosse thirty-six feet deep. Finally, the 
 nucleus, which is a square tower flanked by four bastions, presents 
 walls eighty feet high, and a ditch forty feet deep, and cut in the 
 rock. This ditch has also its corridor and lodges. In the centre of 
 all is an esplanade for marshalling the garrison. Around it are con- 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 349 
 
 structed the soldiers' barracks, and magazines for the munitions, both 
 bomb proof, and all wrought in the hard rock. To add to their safety, 
 the English had totally rased the neighboring city of St. Philip. 
 
 The allies approached the citadel with circumspection ; its lofty- 
 position overlooking all the adjacent country, it was not by scooping 
 trenches, but by transporting and heaping earth, that they formed 
 their parallels. They raised a wall of about two hundred feet in 
 length, five in height, and six in thickness. This laborious construc- 
 tion was finished, without the besiegers having experienced any loss, 
 as Murray did not attempt a single sally, whether in consequence of 
 the weakness of the garrison, or from excess of confidence in the 
 strength of the place. He contented himself with keeping up a fire 
 of cannon and mortars, which produced no effect. The parallels 
 being completed, the duke de Crillon unmasked his batteries, and 
 fulminated the fortress with one hundred and eleven twenty-four 
 pounders, and thirty-three mortar pieces opening thirteen inches of 
 diameter. 
 
 During the siege of Fort St. Philip, the combined fleets of France 
 and Spain, amounting to near fifty sail of the line, under the count 
 de Guichen, bent their course towards the coasts of England. The 
 intention of the French admiral was to throw himself in the way 
 of the British fleet, and to attack it. The great inferiority of the 
 British' rendered their defeat almost inevitable. The count de Gui- 
 chen also designed by this movement, to prevent the enemy from 
 passing succours from England to Minorca. He even hoped to cut 
 off and capture the convoys that were then on their passage from the 
 two Indies, bound for the ports of Great Britain. His views were 
 likewise directed upon another convoy, which was assembled at the 
 port of Cork, in Ireland, in order to watch its opportunity to make 
 sail for the East and West Indies. Perhaps the French admiral was 
 not without hopes that the sudden appearance of so formidable an 
 armament upon the coasts of the British islands, might afford him an 
 occasion to reach them with a stroke .of the last importance. He 
 hastened therefore to occupy the entrance of the channel in all its 
 breadth, by extending his line from the isle of Ushant to those of 
 Scilly. Admiral Darby was then at sea with twenty-one ships of the 
 line, and on the way to meet his convoy. He had the good fortune 
 to fall in with a neutral vessel, which apprised him of the approach 
 of the combined squadrons. But for this intelligence, he must inevi- 
 tably lifcve fallen headlong into the midst of forces so superior to h?S 
 own, that he could hardly have retained the smallest hope of safety. 
 He instantly retired with all sails upon Torbay. He was there soon 
 reenibrced by several ships of the first rank, which carried his fleet 
 to thirty sail of the line. He disposed his order of battle in the form 
 of a crescent within the bay itself, although it is open, and little sus- 
 ceptible of defence. These dispositions, however, appeared to him 
 VOL. ii. 45 
 
350 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 sufficient to repulse the enemy, in case they should present them- 
 selves. But the peril was really extreme ; they menaced at once the 
 fleet and the maritime cities. None was more exposed than Cork, 
 an unfortified place, and' containing immense magazines of every 
 denomination. All England was thrown into a state of the most 
 anxious alarm. The allied armament at length appeared in sight of 
 Torbay. The count de Guichen immediately held a council of war, 
 to deliberate upon the course to be pursued in the present conjunc- 
 ture. His own opinion was in favor of attacking the British fleet in 
 the position it now occupied. He alleged, that it might be considered 
 as if caught in a net, and that a more auspicious occasion could never 
 present itself for wresting from Great Britain the dominion of the sea. 
 He represented what disgrace, what eternal regrets, would be incur- 
 red by allowing it to escape them. He maintained that the enemy, 
 cramped in his movements within a bay, from which there was no 
 outlet, must inevitably become the prey of the innumerable fire-ships 
 with which the combined fleets might support their attack. Finally, 
 he declared that the honor of the arms of the two allied sovereigns 
 was staked upon the issue of this expedition. Don Vincent Droz not 
 only concurred in the opinion of the admiral, but even offered to lead 
 the attempt at the head of the vanguard. But M. de Beausset, the 
 second in command, a seaman of high reputation, manifested a con- 
 trary opinion. He contended that the situation of the English squa- 
 dron would enable it to fight them at their great disadvantage ; they 
 could not attack it in a body, but must form their line ahead, and 
 fall down singly upon the enemy. This would expose every ship to 
 the collected fire of the whole British fleet, lying fast at anchor, and 
 drawn up in such a manner as to point all its guns at any object within 
 its reach. He concluded with observing, that since an attack under 
 such circumstances could by no means be justified, it became expe- 
 dient to bend their attention exclusively upon an expedition, which, 
 though less brilliant, was certainly of great moment, the capture of 
 the West India convoy, probably at that instant, not very far from the 
 shores of Europe. Don Lewis de Cordova, and all the other Spanish 
 officers, with the exception of don Vincent Droz, adopted the senti- 
 ment of M. de Beausset. The project of attacking the British fleet 
 was therefore rejected by a majority of votes. But if the allies would 
 not, or knew not how to, profit of the occasion which fortune had 
 provided them, she seemed to take her revenge in baffling the designs 
 to which they had given the preference. Contagious maladies began 
 to rage on board their fleet, and especially on board the Spanish ships. 
 The weather became shortly after so tempestuous, that the two admi- 
 rals were obliged to think of their safety. The count de Guichen 
 returned to Brest, and don Lewis de Cordova to Cadiz. The Bri- 
 tish convoys reached their ports without obstacles. Thus this second 
 appearance of the allies upon the coasts of England proved as vain 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 351 
 
 as the first. Its only fruit was that of having impeded the succours 
 destined for Minorca. But if this campaign between France, Spain 
 and England passed, in the seas of Europe, without any great effu- 
 sion of blood, and .almost entirely in demonstrations of little avail, it 
 wos at least remarkable for the reciprocal animosity manifested be- 
 tween the English and Dutch. It brought to mind those fierce and 
 sanguinary battles which had procured so much celebrity for these 
 two nations in the seventeenth century. The Dutch carried on a 
 very lucrative commerce with the produce of their colonies in the 
 Baltic sea. Having become, as it were, the general factors of the 
 nations of the north and of the south of Europe, their gains were 
 immense. They were drawn, besides, towards the countries of the 
 north, by the necessity of procuring from that part all the articles 
 employed in the construction of shipping. This intercourse was 
 become still more essential to them since their rupture with Great 
 Britain, in order to be able to put their navy in a condition to defend 
 the possessions and commerce of the republic, and to maintain the 
 honor of its flag. >Their arsenals, however, were far from being 
 supplied with all the stores and materials requisite to the present 
 emergency. The English perceived of what importance it was for 
 them to impede the supplies of their enemies. With this intent, so 
 early as the month of June, they had put to sea four ships of the 
 line and one of fifty guns, under the command of admiral Hyde 
 Parker, a very expert seaman, and father of him who served at that 
 time upon the coasts of America. His instructions were, to scour 
 the northern seas, and do all the harm possible to the Dutch trade, 
 and, at his return, to take under his protection a rich convoy which 
 was assembled in the port of Elsineur. 
 
 Admiral Hyde Parker accomplished his mission with diligence ; 
 and already, being returned from the Baltic, he was conducting the 
 convoy through the German ocean, on his way home. Since his 
 departure from Portsmouth, he had been joined by other ships, 
 among which one of seventy-four guns, called the Berwick, one of 
 forty-four, named the Dolphin, and several smaller vessels ; so that 
 his squadron was composed of six sail of the line, exclusive of the 
 rest. The Dutch, during this time, had not neglected their prepara- 
 tives. They had succeeded in fitting out a squadron of seven ships 
 of the line, with several frigates or corvettes. They had given the 
 command of it to admiral Zouttnan. He set sail, towards the mid- 
 dle of July, with a convoy of merchantmen, which he purposed to 
 escort into the Baltic. The Dutch squadron was joined soon after 
 by a stout American frigate called the Charlestown ; and, on the fifth 
 of August, it fell in with admiral Hyde Parker upon the Dogger 
 Bank. The British squadron was to windward ; at sight of the im- 
 posing force of the enemy, it sent its convoy homeward, under the 
 guard of frigates, and bore down upon the Dutch. The latter, as 
 
352 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 soon as they discovered the English, likewise despatched their con- 
 voy towards their own ports, and prepared themselves for battle. 
 They appeared to desire it with no less ardor than their adversaries. 
 The English formed their line with seven ships, of which one of 
 eighty guns, but old and in" bad condition, two of seventy-four, 
 excellent, one of sixty-four, one of sixty, one of fifty, and lastly, a 
 frigate of forty-four. The line of the Dutch was formed in like 
 manner with seven ships, one of seventy-six, two of sixty-eight, three 
 of fifty-four, and one frigate of forty-four. The light vessels kept 
 themselves aside of the line, ready to carry succour wherever it 
 might be required. The English came down upon the Dutch with 
 with full sails, and before the wind ; the latter awaited them, firm at 
 their posts. A profound silepce, the ordinary sign of pertinacious 
 resolution, reigned on board of both squadrons. No other sound 
 was heard but that of the creaking of pullies, the whistling of the 
 wind, and the dashing of waves. The soldiers were formed upon 
 the deck, the cannoniers stood by their pieces, awaiting the signal to 
 commence the fire. It was not given until the squadrons were within 
 half musket shot distance of each other. The two admiral ships, 
 namely, the Fortitude, which carried Parker, and the admiral de 
 Ruyter, mounting Zoutman, attacked each other close along side 
 with extreme impetuosity. The other ships imitated them, and soon 
 the action became general. The Dutch had the superiority in 
 weight of metal, and in the aid of frigates, particularly in that of the 
 Charlestown. The rapidity of their evolutions enabled them to act 
 against the whole line, assailing the ships of the enemy in flank. 
 The English, on the other hand, were advantaged by the agility of 
 manoeuvres and a better supported fire. During near four hours, 
 the action was kept up with an equal spirit, and a balanced success. 
 The Dutch stood firm upon every point of their line, and the English 
 redoubled efforts to carry a victory which they deemed it beneath 
 them to relinquish. But the rage of men was constrained to yield to 
 the force of elements. The ships, on the one part as well as on the 
 other, were so terribly shattered that they were no longer manage- 
 able. They floated upon the water, like wrecks, at the discretion of 
 the wind, and their relative distance became at length so great, that 
 it was impossible to renew the engagement. The English received 
 incalculable damage in their masts and rigging. 
 
 After some hasty repairs, Hyde Parker endeavored to reform his 
 line, in order to recommence the battle, provided Zoutman did not 
 decline it. He attempted to follow him, on seeing him stand for the 
 Texel. But all his efforts were vain. The Dutch ships, however, 
 were in no better condition. During the passage they had now 
 before them, their masts fell one after another ; the leaks were so 
 considerable, that the work of pumps became fruitless. All the 
 captains successively made their admiral signals of distress. The 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 Holland, of sixty-eight guns, went to the bottom' within thirty leagues 
 of the Texel ; the crew had but just time to save themselves, leav- 
 ing in their precipitation the unhappy wounded to a certain death. 
 The frigates were obliged to take the other ships in tow to enable 
 them to gain the port. 
 
 The loss of the English in killed and wounded amounted to four 
 hundred and fifty, among whom were several distinguished officers. 
 In the number of the slain was captain Macartney, who commanded 
 the Princess Amelia, of eighty guns. The valor he signalised in the 
 combat honored his last moments ; but it was still less astonishing 
 than the intrepidity of his young son. This child, yet but seven 
 years old, remained constantly at the side of his father in the very 
 height of the action ; the unfortunate but heroic witness of the stroke 
 which snatched him from his fond affection. Lord Sandwich, first 
 lord of the admiralty, knowing that captain Macartney had left a nu- 
 merous family, and little fortune, adopted this courageous infant. In 
 England, unanimous praises were lavished upon all those who had 
 combated at the Dnsrger Bank. King George himself, as soon as he 
 knew that admiral Hyde Parker was arrived at the Nore, went to 
 pay him a visit on board of his ship, and expressed to him as well 
 as to all his officers, the high sense he entertained of their valiant 
 conduct in this bloody rencounter. But the old seaman, irritated 
 against the board of admiralty, who, in giving him so inadequate a 
 force, had frustrated him of an occasion for signalising himself by a 
 great victory, told the king, with the blunt freedom of his profession, 
 that he wished him younger officers and better ships ; that for his 
 own part, he was become too old to serve any longer. In defiance 
 of the solicitations of the sovereign, of the courtiers and of the 
 ministers, he persisted in his resolution, and immediately tendered 
 his resignation. 
 
 The government and public were no less forward, in Holland, to 
 acknowledge the services of the officers and men who, in the action 
 of the fifth of August, had sustained the ancient renown of the flag 
 of the United Provinces. The stadtholder, in the name of the States- 
 General, addressed public thanks to rear-admiral Zoutman, apprising 
 him at the same time of his promotion to the rank of vice-admiral. 
 The captains Dedel, Van Braam, and Kindsburghen, were created 
 rear-admirals. The same honor, and particular regrets were con- 
 ferred upon the count de Bentinck, who was put ashore mortally 
 wounded. He had displayed equal skill and gallantry in the com- 
 mand of the Batavia. The loss of the Dutch in killed and wounded 
 was greater than that of the English. Such was the issue of the 
 naval battle of Doggers Bank, the best conducted, and the best 
 fought of all this war. It would be impossible to decide who came 
 off with the advantage ; but it is certain that the Dutch, having been 
 constrained to regain their ports for the purpose of refitting, found 
 
354 THE AMERICAN WAR. C BOOK XIII. 
 
 themselves under the necessity of abandoning their design, which had 
 been to repair to the Baltic. This disappointment, however, did 
 not prevent the nation from cherishing new hopes ; the glorious 
 recollection of past times revived in every breast. 
 
 As soon as the count de Guichen had reentered the port of Brest, 
 the French government began to frame new designs. It was not 
 ignorant that the count de Grasse, who commanded the West India 
 fleet, must soon stand in need of supplies and reenforcements, both 
 of ships and troops. Naval stores are extremely scarce in that 
 quarter, and the nature of the climate and of the waters is singularly 
 prejudicial to ships, which get out of condition there with an incredible 
 rapidity. The forces which had been sent thither in this and the 
 preceding campaign might appear sufficient to execute the plans 
 which had been forme'd in favor of the United States, and against the 
 more feeble of the British islands. But in order to attempt the 
 expedition of Jamaica, to which Spain was continually stimulating 
 her ally, it was requisite to have recourse to more formidable arma- 
 ments, as well by land as by sea. The court of Versailles was also 
 aware that the state of affairs in the East Indies required that fresh 
 forces should be sent thither, and moreover that the want of arms 
 and munitions of war began to be felt with urgency. Orders were 
 therefore given for the immediate equipment, at Brest, of a convoy 
 laden with all the necessary articles. Reenforcements of troops 
 were prepared for embarkation, and the armament was pushed with 
 extraordinary activity. As soon as it was in readiness, the count de 
 Guichen put to sea at the head of the great fleet, and the marquis de 
 Vaudreuil with a particular squadron. The convoys destined for the 
 two Indies sailed under their protection. After having escorted 
 them till they were out of danger from the fleets upon the watch in 
 the ports of England, the count de Guichen was to stand to the south, 
 in order to join the Spanish squadron in the port of Cadiz. The 
 object of their combined action was to intercept the succours which 
 the English might attempt to send to Minorca. As to the marquis 
 de Vaudreuil, his destination was to conduct the reenforcements of 
 troops to the West Indies, and to unite with the count de Grasse, 
 who was making dispositions in concert with the Spaniards for the 
 attack of Jamaica. 
 
 For a long time there had not issued from the ports of France 
 convoys so numerous and so richly laden with stores of every deno- 
 mination. The news of these immense preparations soon found its 
 way to England ; but strange as it must seem, the ministers were not 
 informed of the force of the formidable squadrons that were to escort 
 the transports. They consequently directed admiral Kempenfeldt 
 to put to sea with twelve ships of the line, one of fifty guns, and four 
 frigates, in order to cut off the French convoys. But the count de 
 Guichen had nineteen sail of the line ; and Kempenfeldt, instead of 
 taking, ran great risk of being taken. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 855 
 
 In defiance of all probabilities, chance did that which human pru- 
 dence could not have brought to pass. The twelfth of December, 
 the weather being stormy, and the sea rough, the British admiral fell 
 in with a French convoy. He had the good fortune to be to windward 
 of the fleet of escort, which for that reason could not act. The 
 Englishman profited with great dexterity of so favorable an occasion, 
 he captured twenty vessels, sunk several, and dispersed the rest. 
 He would have taken more of them if the weather had been less 
 thick, the sea more tranquil, and the number of his frigates greater. 
 Night came on ; the two admirals had rallied their ships. Kempen- 
 feldt sailed in company during the whole night, with intent to engage 
 the enemy at break of day. He knew not, however, what was his 
 force. When the morning came, he discovered it to leeward, and 
 finding it so superior to his own, he changed his plan. Not willing 
 to lose by imprudence what he had acquired by ability, or a benign 
 glance of fortune, he made the best of his way towards the ports of 
 England, where he arrived in safety with all his prizes. The num- 
 ber of his prisoners amounted to eleven hundred regular troops, and 
 six or seven hundred seamen. The transports were laden with a 
 considerable quantity of artillery, arms and military stores. The 
 provisions, such as wine, oil, brandy, flour, biscuit, salt meats, &c. 
 were not in less abundance. But this loss was still but the com- 
 mencement of the disasters of the French fleet. It was assailed, the 
 following day, by a furious tempest accompanied with continual thun- 
 der and lightning, and a most impetuous wind from the southwest. 
 The greater part of the ships were obliged to recover the port of 
 Brest, in the most deplorable condition. Only two ships of the line, 
 the Triumphant and the Brave, with five or six transports, were able 
 to continue their voyage. This event had the most afflicting conse- 
 quences for France ; she had not only to regret armaments and mu- 
 nitions of immense value, but also the precious time consumed in tho 
 reparation of the ships of war. Six whole weeks elapsed before it 
 was possible for them to make sail anew for the West Indies. This 
 delay, as we shall see, was extremely prejudicial to the French arms 
 in that part. 
 
 Whilst the war was thus prosecuted in Europe with varied success, 
 the count de Grasse sailed prosperously towards Martinico. To 
 accelerate his voyage, he had caused his ships of war to tow the 
 transports. Such was his diligence that he appeared in sight of that 
 island with an hundred and fifty sail, thirty days only after his depar- 
 ture from Brest. Admiral Rodney was promptly informed of the 
 approach of the French admiral, He saw very clearly the import- 
 ance of preventing the junction of this new fleet with the squadrons 
 already existing in the ports of Martinico and of St. Domingo. The 
 count de Grasse brought with him twenty ships of the line, with one 
 of fifty guns, and seven or eight others awaited him in the port? 
 
356 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 above mentioned. Rodney had only twenty-one ships of the line. 
 It is true, that Hyde Parker had four others at Jamaica. But besides 
 their being thought necessary to the defence of the island, they were 
 to leeward of the principal fleet, and consequently it would have 
 been next to impracticable for them to join it. Under these consi- 
 derations Rodney sent the two admirals Hood and Drake with seven- 
 teen ships to cruise before the entrance of Fort Royal harbor, in 
 Martinico, whither he knew the count de Grasse had beat the course 
 of his voyage. 
 
 It is quite difficult to explain the motives which induced the British 
 admiral to establish this cruise under Fort Royal ; his fleet was there 
 liable to fall to leeward, and thus to be compelled to leave between 
 itself and the land a free passage for the French fleet into the port. 
 A station more to windward, off the point of Salines, seemed proper 
 to obviate these inconveniences. It was written, that Hood, who 
 was a man of great skill in naval affairs, had made remonstrances on 
 the subject of these dispositions ; but that Rodney, whose character 
 was headstrong, had dismissed him with an order to obey punctually. 
 The event soon demonstrated that the station of the point of Salines 
 would have been more suitable than that of Fort Royal. The twenty- 
 eighth of April, at evening, the count de Grasse appeared off that 
 point, with the most magnific display of force. Admiral Hood was 
 immediately apprised by his frigates of the appearance of the French. 
 He instantly formed his line of battle and bore down upon the ene- 
 my. His intention was to press to windward in order afterwards to 
 approach so near the coasts of Martinico as to prevent the French 
 from passing between his ships and the land. Night came on during 
 this manoeuvre. At daybreak the English discovered the fleet of 
 the count de Grasse, standing along the coast in the best order. His 
 convoy of transports defiled behind the line of battle which he pre- 
 sented to the enemy. All his efforts were exerted to double the 
 Diamond Rock, which once past, nothing; could prevent his entrance 
 into the port. The English being to leeward, were not able to pre- 
 vent the four ships of the line, with that of fifty guns, in Fort Royal 
 harbor, from coming out to join the great fleet. This junction carried 
 the forces of the count de Grasse to twenty-six sail of the line ; and 
 gave him a decided superiority over Hood, although that admiral was 
 joined, at the same time, by a ship of seventy-four guns, which came 
 from St. Lucia. The English, however, persuading themselves that 
 a part of the French ships were merely armed in flute, took confi- 
 dence and again bore down upon their adversaries. The French 
 admiral, mindful to save his convoy, and reposing on his force, neither 
 sought nor shunned an engagement. As soon as the English were 
 within long shot of the French, the fire commenced on both sides. 
 It was supported thus, at a great distance, for about three hours, with 
 heavy damage to the first, and very little to the second. During the 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 357 
 
 action the convoy entered the bay of Fort Royal. Disengaged from 
 this care, the French advanced in order to engage the enemy in close 
 fight. The English, on the contrary, began to retire, but in good 
 order. Their ships being coppered, had such a superiority in point 
 of sailing, that it became impossible for the count de Grasse to come 
 up with them. Besides, the French rear guard not having crowded 
 all sail, there had resulted such an opening between it and the 
 remainder of the fleet, that admiral Hood was near profiting of it to 
 cut the line. The count de Grasse perceived it in time, and filled 
 up so dangerous a void. He continued to pursue the English for 
 two days, and afterwards came to anchor in Fort Royal. Admiral 
 Hood had gained Antigua ; his ships, the Centaur, the Russell, the 
 Torbay and the Intrepid, were excessively damaged in this engage- 
 ment. Admiral Rodney was still at St. Eustatius, much occupied 
 with the sale of the immense booty he had made, when he learned 
 that the count de Grasse, after having obtained an advantage over 
 sir Samuel Hood, was safely moored at Fort Royal. He perceived 
 that it was time to think of something besides his mercantile interests, 
 and that the exertion of all his force was required of him if he wished 
 to maintain himself in the West Indies. He accordingly directed 
 the promptest dispositions, and hastened with three ships and a body 
 of troops to rejoin admiral Hood at Antigua. His plan was, to put 
 to sea again immediately, in order to oppose the designs of the 
 enemy, who, not content with his first successes, appeared to medi- 
 tate others, and more considerable. The French, in effect, lost no 
 time ; they were disposed to profit of the advantages which they had 
 now secured themselves. 
 
 After having attempted, though without effect, to surprise St. 
 Lucia, they proceeded with all expedition to attack the island of 
 Tobago. M. de Blanchelande debarked the first, at the head of 
 sixteen hundred men. He seized Scarborough and the fort which 
 defended it ; general Ferguson, the governor, had little over four 
 hundred regular troops ; but they were supported by a greater num- 
 ber of militia, well trained, and much attached to England. These 
 sentiments were common to all the inhabitants of Tobago. The 
 governor, finding himself too weak to defend the coasts, withdrew 
 into the interior of the island, to a post called Concordia. From 
 this lofty situation, the sea is discovered on the right and on the left; 
 an important advantage for being promptly apprised of the approach 
 of succours. The marquis de Bouille disembarked soon after, with 
 a reenforcement of three thousand men. He made his junction 
 with M. de Blanchelande under the walls of Concordia, which was 
 then closely invested. At the same time, the count de Grasse 
 appeared in sight of the island with twenty-four ships of the line, to 
 prevent its being relieved. Governor Ferguson, as soon as he found 
 himself attacked, had despatched a swift sailing vessel to Rodney 
 VOL. IT. 46 
 
358 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 ^ 
 
 with the intelligence, and a request for prompt assistance. Rodney 
 had already passed from Antigua to Barbadoes. Whether he be- 
 lieved the assailants more feeble, and the besieged more strong, than 
 they really were, or that he was not apprised of the sailing of the 
 French admiral with all his fleet for Tobago, instead of repairing 
 with all his own to the relief of that island, he contented himself with 
 sending admiral Drake thither with six sail of the line, some frigates, 
 and a body of about six hundred troops. Drake approached Toba- 
 go ; but seeing the enemy in such force, he relinquished the enterprise 
 and hastened to regain Barbadoes. The count de Grasse pursued 
 him, but could not prevent his reaching that island in safety, a\id 
 advising admiral Rodney of the critical state of affairs. Meanwhile, 
 the governor of Tobago was hard pressed. The French having 
 taken possession of different heights which overlooked Concordia, 
 he determined to retreat to a post on the Main Ridge, where a few 
 huts had been built, and some provisions and ammunition previously 
 lodged for the purpose. The garrison was already arrived at Cale- 
 donia, and thus occupied the road or path which leads to the post 
 which they had in view. This road is so narrow and difficult that a 
 few men might defend it against a whole army. The marquis de 
 Bouille had reflected, that time and the nature of his enterprise did 
 not admit of the lingering process of a regular siege. It was evident, 
 however, that if the British governor should intrench himself in those 
 inaccessible positions, the reduction of the island would require a 
 series of operations as protracted as perilous. It would moreover 
 prove In obstacle to the execution of ulterior designs. Finally, it 
 was to be presumed that Rodney could not long delay to appear. 
 Under these considerations, the marquis de Bouille thought proper 
 to resort to more expeditious means than are usually employed in 
 war. Departing from the accustomed lenity of his character, per- 
 haps through irritation at the obstinacy of the islanders, and perhaps, 
 also, from resentment for the late transactions at St. Eustatius, he 
 sent to apprise the governor that he should begin with burning two 
 habitations and two sugar plantations. His menaces were immedi- 
 ately accomplished. They were followed by that of consigning 
 twice as many to the same fate, at the commencement of every four" 
 hours, until the island was laid waste or that a surrender should be 
 made. 
 
 The inhabitants, convinced that perseverance was total ruin, were 
 in no disposition to wait the slow approach of succours which the 
 precipitate retreat of Drake rendered hourly more uncertain. They 
 began to murmur ; and very soon, to negotiate for conditions with 
 the French general. Governor Ferguson at length perceived the 
 impossibility of controlling events. He observed a manifest dis- 
 couragement in his regular troops themselves, and felt that the 
 moment of capitulation was come. He obtained honorable terms, 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 359 
 
 and similar to those which the marquis de Bouille, naturally gene- 
 rous- towards his vanquished enemies, had granted to the inhabitants 
 of Dominica. These transactions took place in the early part of 
 June. Admiral Rodney appeared shortly after in view of the island 
 with all his armament. But, on intelligence of its surrender, and at 
 sight of the imposing force of the count de Grasse, he avoided an 
 engagement, and returned to Barbadoes. In this manner, the 
 French availing themselves with equal sagacity and promptitude of 
 their naval superiority in the West Indies, both galled their enemies 
 at sea, and deprived them of a rich and well fortified island. 
 
 These operations, however, were still but a part of the plan 
 formed by the French government, and committed to the care of the 
 count de Grasse. The instructions of that admiral enjoined him, 
 after having attempted all those enterprises which the season should 
 admit of in the West Indies, to repair with all his force to the coasts 
 of America, and there to cooperate with the French troops and those 
 of Congress, to the entire extirpation of the British power in those 
 regions. Washington and Rochambeau awaited his arrival, in order 
 to commence the work. Already, by means of swift sailing vessels, 
 they had concerted the plan of their combined action, after their 
 junction should have taken place. It was hoped by the republicans 
 that besides his fleet, the French admiral would furnish five or six 
 thousand land troops, munitions of war and provisions, and especially 
 money, of which the Americans, and the French themselves, expe- 
 rienced the greatest penury. Finally, they pressed him to show 
 himself promptly, as well to support their efforts as to prevent the 
 arrival of British reenforcernents. The count de Grasse was per- 
 sonally stimulated by these important considerations. His imagina- 
 tion offered him a vivid perspective of the glory to be acquired by 
 achieving what the count d' Estaing had attempted in vain, namely, 
 the finishing of the American war by a decisive stroke. He accord- 
 ingly made sail from Martinico for Cape Francois, in the island of 
 St. Domingo. He was constrained to tarry there some time, to take 
 on board the troops and military stores destined for the continent. 
 But he exerted himself in vain to procure the needed funds. He 
 was joined, in that anchorage, by five ships of the line. All his pre- 
 parations being completed, he sailed, the fifth of August, and com- 
 menced with escorting his numerous convoy till out of danger. 
 Afterwards, having touched at the Havannah for money, which the 
 Spaniards readily furnished him, he directed his course with a favor- 
 able wind for the Chesapeake. His fleet, composed of twenty-eight 
 sail of the line and -several frigates, carried three thousand regular 
 troops, with every kind of succour ; and might be considered as the 
 great hinge upon which the fortune of the war, at least in America, 
 was to turn. 
 
360 THE AMERICAN WAfc. BOOK Xlll. 
 
 On the other hand, admiral Rodney, who followed with an atten- 
 tive eye the movements of the count de Grasse, saw the importance 
 of taking a decisive resolution. He instantly detached admiral 
 Hood to the coast of America with fourteen sail of the line to join 
 admiral Graves, and counteract the designs of the enemy. Being 
 himself in feeble health, he set sail for England with some ships, 
 much out of condition, and a large convoy. Rodney was censured 
 with extreme asperity for the counsels taken by him about that time ; 
 and some even made him responsible for the sinister events which 
 ensued shortly after. His adversaries contended, that if he had 
 sailed with all his force, and without delay, in quest of the French 
 admiral, had touched at Jamaica, in order to make his junction with 
 the squadron of Hyde Parker, and then had proceeded to the coasts 
 of North America, the count de Grasse would at least have found 
 himself compelled to relinquish his projects, if not exposed to a 
 defeat. ' Instead of adopting this measure,' said they, * the only one 
 that suited the occasion, Rodney, by returning to England with apart 
 of the heaviest ships of his fleet, has reduced it to an alarming state 
 of weakness, and abandoned the field of battle to the enemy. 
 
 * It is a capital error thus to have divided the armament into several 
 little squadrons, as leaving some ships at the leeward islands, where 
 the French have not left one, and detaching three others to Jamaica, 
 which nobody thought of attacking, and, finally, sending sir Samuel 
 Hood with an unequal and insufficient force to America. Is it possi- 
 ble to be too much astonished that our admiral has chosen to fritter 
 away his force into small parts, at the very moment when the French 
 assembled all theirs upon a single point . ? The world may see what 
 are the effects of this fatal resolution, it has already cost but too 
 many of England's tears.' Rodney nevertheless found defenders. 
 ' The admiral's return to Europe,' they answered, ' was rather con- 
 strained by the state of his health, than decided by his choice. The 
 ships he has brought with him are in such a worn out state, that they 
 could not have been repaired in the West Indies. The French 
 admiral having under his protection a rich and numerous convoy, it 
 was fairly to be presumed that he would not have left it to pursue its 
 homeward voyage without a respectable escort. It was even to be 
 supposed that he would have sent the greater part of his fleet along 
 with the merchantmen to France, and that he would only have 
 retained those ships which were in condition to undergo the Ameri- 
 can service. But independent of that circumstance, the force sent 
 to America under sir Samuel Hood, when combined with that of 
 admiral Graves, would have been perfectly adequate to sustain the 
 brunt of the whole French fleet. But what has Graves done ? 
 Instead of keeping his squadron entire and together in the port of 
 New York, he preferred to fatigue himself in a fruitless cruise before 
 Boston, until the bad weather which he met had disabled the greater 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 361 
 
 part of his ships. Hence it followed of necessity that even after the 
 arrival of admiral Hood at New York our force was still inferior to 
 that of the French. It indeed now appears that no timely notice 
 had been received by admiral Graves either of the count de Grasse's 
 motions, or of Hood's destination to the coasts of America. But if 
 the expresses which sir George Rodney had despatched for that 
 purpose were taken by the enemy, or otherwise detained, it is no 
 fault on his side ; it is a misfortune to be regretted ; but which could 
 neither have been absolutely foreseen, nor prevented if it could. 
 Finally, the commander-in-chief cannot be reproached for having 
 detached sir Samuel Hood to America, instead of repairing thither 
 himself; for what naval officer is more worthy of all our confidence 
 than Hood ?' 
 
 Without undertaking to decide between these opposite opinions, 
 we shall content ourselves with remarking, that though, in military 
 facts, it is not allowable to judge by the event, it is nevertheless just 
 to consider the causes which have produced it ; and nothing is more 
 certain than that the conduct of admiral Rodney, in the present 
 conjuncture, had an influence upon the chances of the continental 
 struggle, upon the fortune of America herself, and even upon the 
 issue of all this war. 
 
 Having sketched the events which signalised the present year, as 
 well in Europe as in the West Indies, we are now to record those 
 which occupied the scene upon the continent of America. It was 
 the theatre of the principal efforts of the two parties that contended, 
 arms in hand 5 for its possession. Every where else the contest had 
 in view the success of the campaign, and to obtain a better peace ; 
 there, its object was existence itself. But before undertaking the 
 portraiture of military operations, it is necessary to apply the atten- 
 tion to objects which, though less brilliant and glorious, are however 
 the first source, and the firmest foundation of warlike exploits. Such, 
 doubtless, is the internal administration of the state. The situation of 
 the United States at the commencement of the year 1781, presented, in 
 general, only objects of affliction and disquietude. The efforts which 
 the Americans had made the preceding year, and the events which 
 had passed in the Carolinas, had revived public spirit and produced 
 happy effects. But these effects being founded only upon the fugi- 
 tive ardor of particular men, and not upon a settled and permanent 
 order of things, it followed that discouragement and distress reap- 
 peared with more alarming symptoms than ever. The public 
 treasury was empty, or only filled with bills of credit, no longer of 
 any worth. The army supplies totally failed, or were only procured 
 by compulsion, accompanied with certificates of receipt, which had 
 lost all sort of credit. The inhabitants became disgusted, and con- 
 cealed their commodities. If by dint of effort some scanty recruit 
 of provision was at length collected, it could not be transported to 
 
362 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 the place of its destination, for want of money to pay the wagoners. 
 In some districts, where it was attempted to impress them, there arose 
 violent murmurs ; which even degenerated into more strenuous col- 
 lisions. No where had it been possible to form magazines ; scarcely 
 did there exist here and there some repositories, which often con- 
 tained neither food nor clothing of any denomination ; even the 
 arsenals were without arms. The soldiers, covered with tatters, or 
 half naked, destitute of all comforts, implored in vain the compassion 
 of the country they defended. The veterans deserted ; the recruits 
 refused to join the army. The Congress had decreed that by the 
 first of January, there should be thirty-seven thousand men under 
 arms ; it would have been difficult to have mustered the eighth part 
 of that number in the month of May. In a word, it seemed as if 
 America, at the very crisis of her fate, was about to prove wanting 
 to herself, and that after having gained the better part of her career, 
 she was more than half inclined to retrace her steps. Far from the 
 Americans being thought capable of waging an offensive war, it was 
 scarcely believed that they could defend their firesides. Already, it 
 began to be feared that instead of assisting the French to drive out 
 the soldiers of king George, they would prove unable to prevent the 
 latter from expelling the troops of Lewis XVI. So disastrous was 
 the change of fortune occasioned by the exhaustion of the fianances, 
 and, still more, by the want of a system of administration proper to 
 reestablish them. This state of things was not overlooked by the 
 American government, and it exerted every utmost effort to apply a 
 remedy. But its power was far from corresponding to its intentions. 
 The only means that Congress had for administering to the wants of 
 the state, consisted in a new emission of bills of credit, or an increase 
 of taxes. But the paper money had lost all sort of value. The 
 Congress itself had been constrained to request the different states to 
 repeal the laws by which they had made the bills of credit a tender 
 in all payments. It had even ordained that in all future contracts for 
 the supplies of the army, the prices should be stipulated in specie. 
 This was the same as declaring formally that the state itself would 
 no longer acknowledge its own bills for current money, and that this 
 paper not only no longer had, but no longer could have, the least 
 value. As to taxes, the Congress had not the right to impose them ; 
 it belonged exclusively to the provincial assemblies. But these 
 exercised it with more backwardness than could comport with the 
 public interests. This coldness proceeded from several causes. 
 The rulers of the particular states were, for the most part, men who 
 owed their places to popular favor. They apprehended losing it, if 
 they subjected to contributions of any importance, the inhabitants of a 
 country where from the happy, shall I call it, or baleful facility of 
 issuing paper money, to answer the public exigencies, they were 
 accustomed to pay no taxes, or next to none. Moreover, although 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 363 
 
 the bills of Congress were entirely discredited, the particular states 
 still had theirs, which though much depreciated were still current at 
 a certain rate ; and the provincial legislatures apprehended, and not 
 wi'hout reason, that taxes payable in specie, would cause them to 
 fall still lower. Nor should it be passed over in silence, that no gene- 
 ral regulation having established the quota of contribution to be paid 
 by each province according to its particular faculties, all through 
 mutual jealousy were reluctant to vote taxes for fear of loading 
 themselves more than their neighbors. Such was the spirit of dis- 
 trust and selfishness which made its appearance every where, when- 
 ever it was necessary to require of the citizens the smallest pecuniary 
 sacrifice. While they were looking at one another with a jealous 
 eye, and none would give the example, the finances of the state 
 were entirely exhausted, and the republic itself was menaced with a 
 total dissolution. It could not be hoped, on the other hand, that the 
 particular states would consent to invest the Congress with authority 
 to impose taxes, as well because men with authority in hand are little 
 disposed to part with it, as because the opinions then entertained by 
 the Americans on the subject of liberty, led them to view with dis- 
 quietude any increase of the power of Congress. Finally, it should 
 be observed, that at this epoch, the Americans cherished an extreme 
 confidence in the pecuniary succours of friendly powers, and especially 
 of France. They were persuaded that no more was necessary than 
 that a minister of Congress should present his requisition to any 
 European court, in order to obtain immediately whatever sums of 
 money it might please him to specify. As if foreigners were bound 
 to have more at heart than the Americans themselves, the interests 
 and prosperity of America. In a word, the resource of paper money 
 was no more, and that of taxes was yet to be created. Nor could it 
 be dissembled, that even upon the hypothesis of a system of taxation 
 in full operation, and as productive as possible, the produce would 
 still fall infinitely short of supplying the gulf of war, and, by conse- 
 quence, that the revenue would continue enormously below the 
 expense. Indeed, so ruinous were the charges of this war, that they 
 amounted to no less than twenty millions of dollars a year ; and not 
 more than eight could have been counted upon, from the heaviest 
 taxes which, under these circumstances, the United States would 
 have been able to bear. A better administration of the public treasure 
 might doubtless have diminished the exorbitant expenses of the military 
 department ; but it is nevertheless clear that they would always have 
 greatly exceeded the revenue. Actuated by these different reflec- 
 tions, the Congress had hastened to instruct doctor Franklin to use 
 the most pressing instances with the count de Vergennes, who at that 
 time had the principal direction of affairs relating to America, in 
 order to obtain from France a loan of some millions of livres, towards 
 defraying the expense of the war. Franklin was also directed to 
 
364 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII, 
 
 solicit permission of the court of Versailles to open another loan for 
 account of the United States, with the French capitalists that were 
 inclined to favor the cause of America. The same instructions were 
 sent, with a view of effecting similar loans, to John Adams, and John 
 Jay ; the first, minister plenipotentiary of the United States, near the 
 republic of Holland ; the second, at the court of Madrid. The latter 
 was to insinuate to Spain, so great was the discouragement which 
 prevailed at that time in America, that the United States would re- 
 nounce the navigation of the Mississippi, and even the possession of 
 a port upon that river ; the other was to persuade the Dutch that 
 important commercial advantages would be granted them. Franklin, 
 especially, was to represent to France, that without money the affairs 
 of America were desperate. It was recommended to these different 
 envoys to set forth all the resources which America offered as gua- 
 rantee of her fidelity in fulfilling her engagements. The Congress 
 attached so much importance to the success of these negotiations, 
 that not content with having sent these new instructions to their mi- 
 nisters, they also despatched colonel Laurens to France, with orders 
 to support by the most urgent solicitations the instances of Franklin 
 at the court of Versailles. 
 
 The court of Madrid was inflexible, because Jay would not agree 
 to the renunciation above mentioned. Holland showed herself no 
 better disposed, because she doubted the responsibility of the new 
 state. France alone, who judiciously considered that aiding the vic- 
 tory of the United States, and preserving their existence, was of more 
 worth to her than the money they demanded, granted six millions of 
 livres, not as a loan, but as a gift. She seized this occasion to ex- 
 press her dissatisfaction at the coldness with which the Americans 
 themselves contemplated the distress of their country. ' She exhorted 
 them to reflect, that when it is desired to accomplish honorable enter- 
 prises, it is requisite not to be avaricious in the means of success. 
 The court of Versailles did not omit to make the most of its munifi- 
 cence, by setting forth all the weight of its own burdens. But the 
 sum it gave being too far short of the wants, it consented to become 
 security in Holland, for a loan of ten millions of livres, to be negoti- 
 ated there by the United States. Notwithstanding this guarantee, the 
 loan progressing but slowly, the king of France consented to make an 
 advance of the sum total, which he drew from his own treasury. He 
 would not, however, authorise the loan proposed to be opened with 
 his subjects. The Americans had thus succeeded in procuring from 
 the court of France a subsidy of sixteen millions of livres. A part 
 of this sum, however, was already absorbed by the payment of pre- 
 ceding draughts of the Congress upon Franklin, for particular exi- 
 gencies of the state. The remainder was embarked for America in 
 specie, or employed by colonel Laurens in purchases of clothing, 
 arms, and- munitions of war-.- The intention of the giver of the six 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 365 
 
 millions was, that this sum, being specially destined for the use of the 
 American army, should be kept in reserve, at the disposal of general 
 Washington, or placed in his hands, to the end that it might not tall into 
 those of other authorities, who might perhaps apply it to other branches 
 of the public service. This condition was far from being agreeable 
 to the Congress ; on the contrary, it displeased that body particularly, 
 under the impression that its soldiers would thus become, as it were, 
 stipendiaries of France ; and it feared lest they might abate much of 
 their dependence on itself. It therefore decreed, that the articles 
 bought with the money given by France, should be consigned, on 
 their arrival in America, to the department of war; but that all the 
 ready money should be placed in the hands of the treasurer, to re- 
 main under his charge, and to be expended agreeably to the orders 
 of Congress, and for the service of the state. This succour on the 
 part of France, was of great utility to the United States ; it increased 
 exceedingly their obligations towards Lewis XVI. But before the 
 negotiations which led to it were terminated, and the money or sup- 
 plies were arrived in America, a long time had elapsed ; and the 
 evil was grown to such a head, that the remedy had well nigh come 
 too late. The subsidy in itself was by no means adequate to the 
 necessity. But even had it been sufficient to answer the present exi- 
 gencies, it could not be considered as having accomplished its object, 
 so long as the same disorder continued to reign in the public expenses. 
 The treasury suffered still less from the poverty of revenues than 
 from the prodigalities it had to supply. It had not escaped the Con- 
 gress that this primordial defect in the administration of the finances 
 was the source of those perpetual embarrassments which had beset 
 them since the origin of the revolution. Firmly resolved to intro- 
 duce into that department a rigorous system of order and economy, 
 they appointed for treasurer Robert Morris, one of the deputies of 
 the state of Pennsylvania ; a man of high reputation, and possessed 
 of extensive knowledge and experience in commercial and financial 
 affairs. His mind was active, his manners pure, his fortune ample, 
 and his zeal for independence extremely ardent. He was author- 
 ised to oversee and direct the receipt and disbursement of the public 
 money, to investigate the state of the public debt, and to digest and 
 report a new plan of administration. If the charge imposed on Mor- 
 ris was ponderous, the talent and firmness with which he sustained it, 
 were not less astonishing. He was not slow in substituting regularity 
 for disorder, and good faith in the room of fraud. * 
 
 The first, the most essential of the qualities of an administrator, 
 being exactness in the fulfilment of his obligations-, the new treasurer 
 adhered with rigor to an invariable punctuality. He soon gathered 
 the fruits of it ; instead of a general distrust, there sprung up, by little 
 and little, an universal confidence. One of the first operations of the 
 treasurer was to lay before Congress an outline of a national 6an&, 
 VOL. u. 47 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X1I1. 
 
 for all the United States of America. He assigned to this bank a 
 capital of four hundred thousand dollars, divided in shares of four 
 hundred dollars each, in money of gold or silver, to be procured by 
 means of subscriptions; by the same means this capital miidn be 
 increased, when expedient, and according to certain restrictions. 
 Twelve directors were to manage the bank ; it was recognised by 
 Congress under the name of the president, directors and company of 
 the bank of North America. All its operations were to be subject to 
 the inspection of the treasurer. Such were the bases and principal 
 features of this establishment. The utility to be derived from it was, 
 that the bills of the bank, payable on demand, should be declared 
 legal money for the payment of all excises and taxes in each of the 
 United States, and receivable into the chests of the public treasury 
 as gold or silver. The Congress adopted this plan by a special 
 decree. Subscribers presented themselves in throng, and all the 
 shares were soon taken. The States realised an extraordinary 
 benefit from this institution. The treasurer, by means of exchequer 
 notes, was enabled to anticipate the produce of imposts and taxes. 
 Not content with having brought, by means of the bank, the capitals 
 and credit of the stockholders to the support of public credit, he was 
 disposed to operate the same effect in his own name, and with his 
 private credit. He accordingly threw into circulation no small sum 
 of obligations signed by himself, and payable at different terms out of 
 foreign subsidies, or even out of the revenues of the United States. 
 And although with time these obligations had amounted to upwards 
 of five hundred and eighty-one thousand dollars, they still never de- 
 preciated, excepting, perhaps, a little towards the end of the war ; 
 so great was the confidence of the public in the good faith and 
 punctuality of the treasurer. Thus, at that very epoch in which the 
 credit of the state was almost entirely annihilated, and its bills nearly 
 without value, that of a single individual was stable and universal. 
 It is impossible to overrate the advantages which resulted to the 
 government from having, in these obligations of the treasurer, the 
 means of anticipating the produce of taxes, at a time when such an- 
 ticipation was not only necessary, but indispensable. By this aid it 
 was enabled to provide for the wants of the army, no longer by way 
 of requisitions, but by regular contracts. This new mode had the 
 most happy effects ; it produced economy in purchases, exactness in 
 supplies, and a cordial satisfaction among the people, who had always 
 manifested an extreme disgust at the compulsory requisitions. It 
 cannot be advanced, assuredly, that this anticipated employment of 
 the produce of taxes is an example to be imitated ; nor even can it 
 be denied, on the contrary, that it has dangers. But Robert Morris 
 had the faculty of using this resource with so much discretion, and of 
 introducing so admirable an order and economy into all parts of the 
 public expense, that no manner of inconvenience resulted from it. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 307 
 
 But a foundation was necessary to all these new dispositions of the 
 treasurer ; and this foundation consisted in taxes. The Congress 
 therefore decreed lhat the states should be required to furnish the 
 treasury, by way of assessments, with the sum of eight millions of 
 dollars ; and at the same time determined what should be, in this 
 sum. the contingent of each state. Such was the urgency of the 
 affairs of the republic, and the confidence that all had placed in the 
 treasurer, that the states conformed willingly to this new decree of 
 Congress; and thus an efficacious remedy was at length applied to 
 the penury of the treasury. The solicitude of Robert Morris for the 
 prosperity of the state did not encl here. 
 
 The province of Pennsylvania, as a country abounding in wheat, 
 was that from which was drawn the greater part of the supplies of 
 flour for the use of the army. The want of money had occasioned, 
 towards the beginning of the year, an extreme slowness in the de- 
 livery of these supplies. But Morris was no sooner in place, than 
 he employed his private credit in the purchase of flour for the sol- 
 diers. He afterwards undertook, with the approbation of govern- 
 ment, to furnish the requisitions for similar supplies that might be 
 made upon Pennsylvania during the present year, on condition, how- 
 ever, of being authorised to reimburse himself from the produce of 
 the apportioned contribution of that province. It amounted to up- 
 wards of eleven hundred and twenty thousand dollars. In this man- 
 ner, by the cares of the treasurer, public credit was resuscitated, and 
 the exhausted treasury was sufficiently replenished to meet expenses. 
 To him it was principally owing that the armies of America did not 
 disband ; and lhat the Congress, instead of yielding to an inevitable 
 necessity, recovered the means not only of sustaining the efforts of the 
 enemy, but even of resuming the offensive with vigor and success. 
 Certainly, the Americans owed, and still owe, as much acknowledg- 
 ment to the financial operations of Robert Morris, as to the negotia- 
 tions of Benjamin Franklin, or even to the arms of George Washington. 
 
 Before the salutary effect of this new system had braced the tot- 
 tering state, a sinister event had given room to fear that the present 
 year would prove the last of the republic. The terror it occasioned 
 was the first cause, or at least the most powerful incitement, of the 
 introduction of a better method. At this time, as we have already 
 remarked, the soldiers experienced the most intolerable destitution, 
 not only of all the parts of military equipment, but even of articles 
 the most necessary to life. Their discontent was extreme. A par- 
 ticular motive still aggravated the ill humor of the regular troops of 
 Pennsylvania. They had enlisted for three years, or during all the war. 
 The ambiguity of the terms of their engagement led them to think it 
 had expired with the year 17SO. They claimed therefore the right to 
 return to their homes, while the government contended that they were 
 bound to serve till the end of the war. These two causes combined. 
 
368 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xlfi- 
 
 so heated all heads, that a violent tumult broke out in the night of the 
 first of January. The mutineers declared that they would march 
 under arms, to the very place where Congress was in session, in order 
 to obtain the redress of their grievances. Their number amounted to 
 near fifteen huudred men. The officers endeavored to quell the in- 
 surrection, but it was in vain ; and in the riot that ensued, several of 
 the seditious and one officer were killed. General Wayne presented 
 himself, a man by his valor of great authority with the soldiers ; he 
 advanced against the mutineers pistol in hand ; but he was told to 
 take care what he was about to do, or that even he would be cut to 
 pieces. Already their bayonets were directed against his breast. 
 Immediately after, collecting the artillery, baggage and wagons, which 
 belonged to their division, they put themselves on the march, in the 
 best order, upon Middlebrook. At night they intrenched themselves 
 with the same caution as if they had been in an enemy's country. 
 They had elected for their chief a certain Williams, a British deser- 
 ter, and had given him a sort of council of war, composed of all the 
 sergeants of the companies. From Middlebrook they marched upon 
 Princeton, and encamped there. They would not suffer officers 
 among them. The marquis de la Fayette, general St. Clair, and 
 colonel Laurens, who had hastened to Princeton to endeavor to allay 
 the ferment, were constrained to leave the town. 
 
 The news of the insurrection reached Philadelphia. The Con- 
 gress viewed the affair in that serious light which its importance de- 
 manded. They immediately despatched commissioners, among 
 whom were generals Reed and Sullivan, to investigate facts and 
 ordain measures calculated to reestablish tranquillity. Arrived in the 
 vicinity of Princeton, they sent to demand of the mutineers what was 
 the motive of their conduct, and what would content them ? They 
 answered with arrogance, that they were determined to be put off no 
 longer with empty promises; and their intention was, that all the 
 soldiers who had served three years should have their discharge ; 
 that those who should be discharged, and those who should remain 
 in service, should receive immediately the full arrears of their pay, 
 clothing and provisions ; and moreover, that they insisted on being 
 paid punctually for the future, without even the delay of twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 General Clinton, who was at New York, being soon informed of 
 this defection in the American army, resolved to leave no means 
 untried that could turn it to advantage. He hastened to despatch 
 to the insurgents, three American loyalists, commissioned to make 
 the following proposals to them in his name ; to be taken under the 
 protection of the British government ; to have a free pardon for all 
 past offences ; to have the pay due to them from Congress faithfully 
 paid, without any expectation of military service in return, although 
 it would be received if voluntarily offered : and the only conditions 
 
BOOK XI11. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 required on their side, were lo lay down their arms, and return to 
 their allegiance. The inability of Congress to satisfy their just de- 
 mands, and the severity with which they would be treated if they 
 returned to their former servitude, were points to be strongly urged 
 by the agents ; and the insurgents were invited to send persons to 
 Am boy, to met others who would be appointed by Clinton, in order 
 to discuss and settle the treaty, and bring matters to a final conclu- 
 sion. But the British general thought proper to do yet more ; in 
 order to imbolden the insurgents by his proximity, he passed over to 
 Staten Island with no small part of his troops. He would not how- 
 ever proceed still farther, and venture to set foot in New Jersey, for 
 fear of exciting a general alarm, and throwing the mutineers directly 
 back into the arms of Congress. The insurgents made no positive 
 answer to Clinton ; and they detained his emissaries. In the mean- 
 time, the committee of Congress and the delegates of the rebels had 
 opened a negotiation ; but such was the exasperation of minds on 
 both sides, that it seemed next to impossible that the differences 
 should be settled by an amicable adjustment. They first offered to 
 grant discharges to those who had taken arms indeterminately, for 
 three years, or for the term of the war. In cases where the written 
 engagements could not be produced, the soldiers should be admitted 
 to make oath. They were promised certificates in reimbursement 
 of the sums they had lost by the depreciation of paper money ; 
 they were assured of the earliest possible payment of arrears ; of the 
 immediate delivery of such articles of clothing as they stood in the 
 most urgent need of; and of a total oblivion with respect to their 
 past conduct. These propositions were not fruitless ; the mutineers 
 accepted them, and the disturbance was appeased. They afterwards 
 marched to Trenton, where the promises which had been made them 
 were realised. They delivered into the hands of the commissioners 
 the emissaries of Clinton, who were accordingly hanged without 
 ceremony or delay. 
 
 Thus terminated a tumult which had occasioned the most anxious 
 apprehensions to the American government, and inspired the British 
 general with the most flattering hopes. It is true that many excel- 
 lent soldiers solicited their discharge, and abandoned the army to 
 rrejoin their families. Washington, during the mutiny, made no move- 
 ment whatever. He remained tranquil in his head-quarters at New 
 Windsor, on the banks of the Hudson. His conduct is to be attri- 
 buted to several motives. He apprehended lest his own soldiers 
 might take part in the insurrection, or lest their inconsiderable num- 
 ber might not be capable of overawing the mutineers. In retiring 
 from the borders of the Hudson, he must have left exposed to the 
 enterprises of the British general those passages which already had 
 been so often contested. His principal, fear, however, was that of 
 lessening his authority over the troops, if he exerted it without sue- 
 
370 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK XIII. 
 
 cess, and it must be admitted that it might have had the most disas- 
 trous consequences. Perhaps also, within his own breast, he was 
 not sorry that the Congress as well as the governments of the several 
 states, should have been roused by such a spur ; that being struck 
 with the difficulty of collecting the funds necessary to the support of 
 the army, they might for the future redouble activity in that vital 
 part of the public service. A few days after this event, the regular 
 troops of New Jersey, excited by the example of the insurrection of 
 the Pennsylvanians, and encouraged by the success that attended it, 
 erected in like manner the standard of revolt. But Washington 
 marched against them a strong corps of soldiers whose fidelity had 
 been proved in the late sedition ; the mutineers were soon brought 
 to a sense of duty ; and their ringleaders chastised with exemplary 
 severity. This act of rigor put an end to all mutinies. They were 
 followed at least by this salutary consequence, that the government, 
 more clearsighted with respect to its interests, made useful efforts to 
 remedy the origin of the evil. It sent to camp a sufficient quantity 
 of money, in gold and silver, to discharge the pay of three months. 
 The soldiers, consoled by this relief, resumed patience to wait till the 
 operations of finance, which we have mentioned above, had produced 
 the happy effects that were to be expected from them. 
 
 During the time in which the Congress, supported by the opinion 
 of Washington and of the most influential individuals of the confe- 
 deration, labored to reestablish order in the internal administration, 
 the first source of military successes, the war was carried on with 
 spirit |D the provinces of the south. General Greene marched at the 
 head of formidable forces to the deliverance of South Carolina. 
 Lord Cornwallis, considering it as a prey that could not escape him, 
 had left it almost without defence, in order to prosecute his designs 
 against Virginia. After his departure, the command of that province 
 devolved upon lord Rawdon, a young man full of ardor and talents. 
 He had established his head-quarters at Cambden, a place fortified 
 with much diligence. Its garrison, however, was feeble, and, if it 
 sufficed for the defence of the town, it was by no means in a condir 
 tion to keep the field. The same weakness existed in all the other 
 posts of the province, that were still occupied by the English. As 
 the public sentiment was every where hostile to their domination, 
 they were compelled to divide their troops into a great number of 
 petty detachments in order to maintain themselves in positions neces- 
 sary to their safety and subsistence. The principal of these points 
 were, the city of Charleston itself, and those of Cambden, Ninety 
 Six, and Augusta. 
 
 Upon the first rumor of the retreat of Cornwallis towards Virginia, 
 the Carolinians had conceived hopes of a new order of things. Al- 
 ready, in many places, they had broken out with violence against 
 the British authorities. Sumpter and Marion, both very enterprising 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 371 
 
 men, fanned the fire of insurrection. They organised in regular com- 
 panies all those of their party who rallied under their banners. They 
 held in check the frontiers of lower Carolina, while Greene with the 
 main hody of his army marched upon Cambden. His approach was 
 already felt in that city by a secret movement in his favor. To 
 animate the minds still more, he had detached colonel Lee, with his 
 light horse, to join Marion and Sumpter. Thus lord Rawdon found 
 himself all of a sudden assailed not only in front by the army of 
 Greene, but also in jeopardy of having the way intercepted to his 
 retreat upon Charleston. He was slow, however, in believing the 
 accounts which reached him respecting the movements of the enemy. 
 Lord Cornwallis had not neglected to notify him in an authentic 
 manner, that he evacuated Carolina to march against Virginia ; but 
 the inhabitants were so adverse to the British cause, that none of his 
 couriers had been able to traverse the country without falling into 
 their hands. And how was Rawdon to conceive that the fruit of the 
 victory of Guildford should be to constrain lord Cornwallis to retire 
 before the enemy he had beaten ? Rawdon, however, did not allow 
 himself to be intimidated by the peril of his position ; he set himself, 
 on the contrary, to devise means for eluding it by his courage and 
 prudence. He would have wished to approach Charleston, but see- 
 ing the country infested by the light troops of Sumpter and Greene, 
 he soon relinquished the idea. He xvas also determined by the 
 consideration that Cambden was a strong place, and capable of sus- 
 taining the first efforts of the enemy. He hastened, however, to 
 reen force the garrison with ail those which he withdrew from posts 
 unsusceptible of defence ; only leaving troops in fortified places. 
 Greene, at the head of his army, appeared in view of the ramparts 
 of Cambden ; but he found them too well guarded to afford any 
 prospect of success from an attack, which he could only undertake 
 with insufficient forces. He accordingly merely occupied the 
 heights, and intrenched himself upon an eminence, called Hobkirk 
 Hill, about a mile from the place. He was not without hopes of 
 being able to entice the British to combat ; for, though not in a 
 situation to force them behind their walls, he felt strong enough to 
 fight them in the open field. His position was formidably strong. 
 His front between the hill and Cambden was covered by thick brush- 
 wood, and his left by a deep and impracticable swamp. The Ame- 
 ricans guarded themselves with little care in this encampment ; they 
 placed too much confidence in the strength of the place, or in the 
 weakness of the enemy, or perhaps they did but abandon themselves 
 to that natural negligence which so many disasters had not yet been 
 able to cure them of. Lord Rawdon caused them to be watched 
 attentively ; he knew that they had sent their artillery to some dis- 
 tance in their rear, and immediately took a daring resolution, but 
 urged by circumstances, that of attacking. After having armed the 
 
372 THE AMERICAN WAH. 
 
 ROOK XIIT. 
 
 musicians, drummers, and every being in 'his army that was able lo 
 carry a firelock, he. left the city to the custody of the convalescents, 
 and marched towards Hobkirk. 
 
 Not being able to cross the brushwood, nor yet the swamps, 
 which he had before him, he drew off to the ri^ht, and by taking 
 an extensive circuit, turned the morass, and carne down by surprise 
 upon the left flank of the American line. At the appearance of so 
 pressing a danger, Greene endeavored to repair, by the promptitude 
 of his dispositions, the negligence of which he felt himself culpable. 
 Having observed that the English marched very compact in a single 
 column, he conceived hopes of beincj able to fall upon their two 
 flanks. He accordingly ordered colonel Ford to attack the enemy's 
 left with a Maryland regiment, while colonel Campbell should assail 
 them on the right. He then directed a charge in front, to be led 
 by colonel Gunby, while colonel Washington with his cavalry should 
 turn their right, and assault them in rear. The combat soon became 
 general, and was pushed with equal resolution on both sides. The 
 royal troops began at first to give way ; the ranks of their infantry 
 and cavalry were broken. Their disorder was still increased by a 
 violent fire of grape-shot, with which they were taken in rear by an 
 American battery which had just arrived upon the field of battle. In 
 this critical moment, lord Rawdon pushed forward a battalion of 
 Irish volunteers and some other companies, of which he had formed 
 a reserve. These fresh troops restored the fortune of the day. 
 The action was grown excessively hot, and alternate undulations 
 equalised the success. But at length a Maryland regiment, vigor- 
 ously charged by the enemy, fell into confusion and took flight. 
 This struck a damp into the whole line, and the rout was shortly 
 general. The Americans attempted several times to rally, but 
 always in vain ; the English pushed them too fiercely. They enter- 
 ed almost at the same time with them into the intrenchments upon 
 the ridge. 
 
 Meanwhile, colonel Washington, agreeably to tho orders of his 
 general, had arrived with his corps of cavalry upon the rear of the 
 British army, before it had recovered from the disorder into which 
 it had been thrown by the first shock. He took advantage of it lo 
 make a great number of prisoners. But when he saw that the posi- 
 tion of Greene was forced, he thought proper to retreat. A part of 
 the prisoners escaped ; the remainder he conducted to camp, where 
 he rejoined the main body of the army. 
 
 General Greene, after this check, had fallen back upon Gun 
 Swamp, five miles from Hobkirk, where he remained several days 
 to collect the fugitives and reorganise the army. This affair, which 
 was called the battle of Hobkirk, was fought the twenty-fifth of 
 April. Lord Rawdon, being inferior in cavalry, and enfeebled by a 
 great loss of men, instead of pursuing Greene, had reentered within 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 373 
 
 the walls of Gambden. He was desirous to make that place the 
 centre of his operations, and this he was the more inclined to do, 
 since he had just received a reenforcenient of troops under the con- 
 duct of colonel Watson. But he was informed that the inhabitants 
 of the whole interior country at his back, had revolted with one con- 
 sent, that already Fort Watson had capitulated, and that those of 
 Granby, Orangeburgh and Motte, were closely invested. The last, 
 situated near the junction of the Congaree with the Santee, and con- 
 taining extensive magazines, was of no little importance. Lord 
 Ravvdon, reflecting that all these forts were upon his rear, judged 
 his situation imminently hazardous. He therefore resolved to eva- 
 cuate Cambden, and retire lower down towards Charleston ; this 
 resolution he executed the ninth of May. He rased the fortifica- 
 tions, put in safety all the artillery and baggage, and brought off the 
 families of the loyalists, who by their zeal for the royal cause had 
 rendered themselves odious to the republicans. The whole army 
 arrived on the thirteenth at Nelsons Ferry, upon -the banks of the 
 Santee river. Here, having received the unwelcome tidings that all 
 the forts mentioned above were fallen into the hands of the Ameri- 
 cans, the British general raised his carnp, and carried it still farther 
 back to Eutaw Springs. 
 
 General Greene, perceiving that Rawdon, by retreating into the 
 lower parts of Carolina, had abandoned all thoughts of maintaining 
 himself in the upper country, formed a design to reduce Ninety Six 
 and Augusta, the only posts that still held out for the king. These 
 two forts were already invested by the militia headed by colonels 
 Pickens and Clarke. Greene appeared with his army before the 
 walls of Ninety Six, and proceeded to push the siege by regular 
 approaches. One of the officers who distinguished themselves the 
 most in that operation was colonel Kosciusko, a young Pole, full of 
 enthusiasm for the cause of the Americans. The defence of the 
 place was directed by lieutenant-colonel Cruger. During this time, 
 colonel Pickens vigorously pushed his operations against the town of 
 Augusta, which was defended with equal bravery and ability by 
 colonel Brown. These two places were very strong, and could not 
 be reduced but by a long siege. 
 
 Meanwhile, lord Rawdon saw with extreme solicitude that in 
 losing these posts, whose value he justly appreciated, he must also 
 lose the garrisons which defended (tifeem. A reenforcement of three 
 regiments newly arrived at Charleston from Ireland, gave him hopes 
 of being able to relieve these fortresses, and principally Ninety Six. 
 Every course which presented itself to his mind being equally diffi- 
 cult and dangerous, he preferred without hesitation that which 
 appeared the most magnanimous. He received intelligence on his 
 march of the loss of Augusta. Pressed with great industry by colo-> 
 nel Pickens, and without hope of relief, that place had just surren- 
 VOL. n. 48 
 
374 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 dered to the arms of Congress. This disaster operated with the 
 British general as a new motive for endeavoring to preserve Ninety 
 Six. Upon the rumor of the approach of Rawdon, Greene reflected 
 that the number and discipline of his soldiers was not such as to 
 afford a hope that he would be able to resist, at the same time, the 
 garrison of Ninety Six, and the fresh and warlike troops that were 
 advancing against him. On the other hand, to raise the siege before 
 having attempted some vigorous stroke against the place, appeared 
 to him too disgraceful a step. Accordingly, however imperfect 
 were the works of attack, he resolved to hazard an assault. He 
 had already reached the ditch, it is true, and had pushed a sap to 
 the foot of a bastion, but the fortifications were yet in a great mea- 
 sure entire. The body of the place was therefore to be considered 
 as being proof against insult. But general Greene was desirous at 
 least to save in his retreat the honor of the American arms. A 
 general assault was therefore given with extreme impetuosity, which 
 the English sustained with no less valor. Greene, seeing the terrible 
 carnage which the artillery made among his soldiers, in the ditch 
 not yet filled up with the ruins of the breach, determined at length 
 to retire. Soon after this check, lord Rawdon being now but a 
 small distance from his camp, he raised it all at once, and withdrew 
 beyond the Tiger and the Broad rivers. The royalists followed 
 him, but in vain. The British general having entered into Ninety 
 Six, examined the state of the place, and was of opinion that it 
 could not hold out against a regular attack He therefore put him- 
 self again on the march, directing it towards the lower parts of 
 Carolina, and proceeded to establish his head-quarters at Orange- 
 burgh. Imboldened by his retreat, Greene soon showed himself 
 before this last place. But a sight of the British forces, and of 
 their excellent position, covered by the windings of the river, he 
 paused, and bent his march towards the heights which border the 
 Santee. 
 
 The hot and sickly season being arrived, it effected that which 
 could not have been expected from the rage of men ; hostilities 
 ceased. It would seem that during this suspension of arms, civil 
 hatreds were rekindled with increase of fury. The English especial- 
 ly, as if to revenge their defeats showed themselves more exasperated 
 than the Americans. It was at this epoch that there passed a lament- 
 able event, which excited to the highest degree the indignation of 
 all America, and particularly of the Carolinas. Colonel Isaac Hayne 
 had warmly espoused the cause of American Independence. Dur- 
 ing the siege of Charleston he had served in a volunteer corps of 
 light horse. After the surrender of that city, Hayne, who was 
 tenderly attached to his family, could not find in his heart to part 
 with it, in order to seek refuge in distant places against the tyranny of 
 the victors. He knew that other American officers had obtained 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAll. 375 
 
 permission to return peaceably to their habitations, on giving their 
 parole riot to act against the interests of the king. He repaired 
 therefore to Charleston, went to the British generals and constituted 
 himself their prisoner of war. But knowing all the resources of his 
 mind, and the authority he possessed among the inhabitants, they 
 wished to have him entirely in their power, and refused to receive 
 him in the character he was come to claim. They signified to him 
 that he must acknowledge himself for a British subject, or submit to 
 be detained in a rigorous captivity. This idea would not have in r 
 timidated colonel Hayne ; but he could not endure that of being so 
 long separated from his wife and children. He knew also that they 
 were under the attack of smallpox ; and soon after, in effect, the 
 mother and two of the children became the victims of that cruel 
 malady. Neither could he overlook, that if he did not accede to 
 what was exacted of him, an unbridled soldiery wailed only the 
 signal to sack and devastate his plantations. 
 
 In this distressing alternative the father, the husband triumphed in 
 his breast; he consented to invest himself with the condition of Bri- 
 tish subject. The only favor he demanded was, that he might not 
 be constrained to bear arms against his party. This was solemnly 
 promised him by the British general Patterson, and by Simcoe, 
 superintendent of police at Charleston. But before taking this peril- 
 ous resolution he had waited upon doctor Ramsay, the same who 
 afterwards wrote the history of the American revolution, praying him 
 to bear witness to the future that he by no means intended to aban- 
 don the cause of independence. As soon as he had signed the oath 
 of allegiance, he had permission to return to his residence. 
 
 Meanwhile, the war rekindled with new violence ; and the Ameri- 
 cans, hitherto beaten and dispersed, resumed the. offensive with such 
 vigor that the British generals were alarmed at their progress. Then, 
 no longer regarding the promises which they had made to colonel 
 Hayne, they intimated to him an order to take arms and march with 
 them against the revolted republicans. He refused. The troops of 
 Congress afterwards penetrated into the country ; the inhabitants of 
 bis district rose and elected him for their chief. No longer considering 
 himself bound to keep that 'faith which it appeared that others were 
 not disposed to keep towards him, he yielded to the wish of his coun- 
 trymen, and again took up those arms which he had laid down 
 through necessity. He scoured the country in the vicinity of 
 Charleston at the head of a corps of dragoons. But it was not long 
 before he fell inlo an ambuscade laid for him by the British com- 
 manders. He was immediately conducted to the city, and thrust 
 into a deep dungeon. Without form of trial, lord Rawdon and 
 colonel Balfour, the commandant of Charleston, condemned him to 
 death. This sentence appeared to every one, as it was in reality, an 
 act of barbarity. Even deserters are indulged with a regular trial, 
 
376 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xllf. 
 
 and find defenders ; spies only are deprived of this privilege by the 
 laws of war. Royalists and republicans all equally pitied the colo- 
 nel, whose virtues they esteemed ; they would fain have saved his . 
 life. They did not restrict themselves to mere wishes ; a deputation 
 of loyalists, having the governor in behalf of the king at their head, 
 waited upon lord Rawdon, and earnestly solicited him in favor of the 
 condemned. The most distinguished ladies of Charleston united 
 their prayers to the general recommendation that his pardon might 
 be granted. His children, still of tender age, accompanied by their 
 nearest relations, and wearing mourning for their mother, whom they 
 had so recently lost, threw themselves at the feet of Rawdon, de- 
 manding with the most touching cries the life of their unhappy father. 
 All the bystanders seconded with floods of tears the petition of these 
 hapless orphans. Rawdon and Balfour obstinately refused to miti- 
 gate the rigor of their decision. 
 
 When about to be conducted to death, colonel Hayne called into 
 his presence his eldest son, then thirteen years of age. He delivered 
 him papers addressed to the Congress, then said to him ; ' Thou 
 wilt come to the place of my execution ; thou wilt receive my body, 
 and cause it to be deposited in the tomb of our ancestors.' Being 
 arrived at the foot of the gibbet, he took leave in the most affecting 
 manner of the friends who surrounded him, and armed himself to his 
 last moment with the firmness which had honored his life. He was 
 in the same degree, a man of worth, a tender father, a zealous 
 patriot, and an intrepid soldier. If the tyranny of the prince, or the 
 impatience of the people, render political revolutions sometimes 
 inevitable, it is certainly much to be deplored that the first and prin- 
 cipal victims of this scourge, should be, almost always, citizens the 
 most worthy of general esteem and affection. After having taken 
 this cruel vengeance of a man so universally respected, lord Rawdon 
 left the capital of Carolina clouded with melancholy, and brooding 
 terrible reprisals ; he made sail for England. To this act of rigor 
 on the part of the English generals, without doubt, may be applied 
 the ancient adage ; ' An extreme justice is an extreme injury.' But 
 whatever may be thought of its justice, it must be admitted, that the, 
 English, in showing themselves so ruthless at a moment when their 
 affairs were already in such declension, appeared much more eager 
 to satiate the fury of a vanquished enemy than to accomplish an 
 equitable law. The aversion of the Americans for their barbarous 
 foes, acquired a new character of implacable animosity. The officers 
 of the army of general Greene solicited him to use reprisals, declar- 
 ing that they were ready to run all the risks that might ensue from it. 
 He issued, in effect, a proclamation by which he threatened to retali- 
 ate the death of colonel Hayne upon the persons of the British 
 officers that might fall into his hands. Thus to the evils inseparable 
 from war, were joined the excesses produced by hatred and ven- 
 geance. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMEIIICAN WAR. 377 
 
 General Greene during this interval had not remained idle in his 
 carnp upon the heights of the Santee. He had occupied himself 
 without relaxation in strengthening his army, in perfecting the old 
 troops by frequent manoeuvres, and in disciplining the new corps. 
 His diligence had not failed of success. Reenforced by the militia 
 of the neighboring districts, he saw under his banners soldiers no less 
 formidable to the English by their warlike ardor than by their num- 
 ber. The temperature of the season being become less burning, at 
 the commencement of September, he resolved to employ his forces 
 in expelling the British troops from the few towns which they still 
 occupied in South Carolina, besides the city of Charleston. Having 
 taken a circuitous march towards the upper Congaree, he passed it, 
 and descended rapidly along the right bank with all his army, in order 
 to attack the English, who, under the command of colonel Stewart, 
 occupied the post of Macords Ferry, near the confluence of that 
 river with the Santee. The royalists, on seeing the approach of an 
 enemy so superior in force, and especially in cavalry, reflected that 
 they were too remote from Charleston, whence they drew their sub- 
 sistence. They hastened therefore to quit Macords Ferry, and fell 
 back upon Eutaw Springs, where they labored to intrench them- 
 selves. Greene pursued them thither, and the eighth of September 
 witnessed the battle of Eutaw Springs. According to the dispositions 
 of the American general, the vanguard was composed of the militia 
 of the two Carolinas, and the centre of the regular troops of those 
 provinces, of Virginia, and of Maryland. Colonel Lee with his legion 
 covered the right flank, and colonel Henderson the left. The rear- 
 guard consisted of the dragoons of colonel Washington and the militia 
 of Delaware. It was a corps of reserve destined to support the first 
 lines. The artillery advanced upon their front. 
 
 The British commander formed his troops in two lines, the first 
 was defended on the right by the little river Eutaw, and on the left 
 by a thick wood. The second, forming a reserve, crowned the 
 heights which command the Charleston road. After some skir- 
 mishing between the marksmen of the one and other army, they fell 
 back behind the ranks, and the engagement became general. It was 
 supported for a considerable time with balanced success ; but at 
 length, the militia of Carolina were broken, and retired in disorder. 
 The British division which formed the left of the first line, quitted its 
 position to pursue them. In this movement it lost its distances, and 
 could no longer combat in company with the other part of the line. 
 The Americans observed this opening, and profited of it immediately. 
 Greene pushed forward his second line ; it charged so vigorously, 
 that the English, in their turn, were shaken, and began to recoil in 
 confusion. To complete their rout, colonel Lee with his cavalry 
 turned their left, and fell upon their rear. This manoeuvre p/eeipi- 
 tated the flight of all that wing of the British army. The right alone 
 
378 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK X11J. 
 
 still held firm. But Greene caused it to be attacked briskly in front 
 by the regular troops of Maryland and Virginia, while the cavalry of 
 colonel Washington took it in flank. The trepidation then became 
 general ; all the corps of the British army tumbled one over another, 
 through haste to recover their intrenchments. Already the Ameri- 
 cans had taken several pieces of artillery, and a great number of 
 prisoners. Victory seemed completely in their hands. But how 
 often has it been remarked, that the events of war depend upon the 
 caprices of chance. Troops accustomed to a rigid discipline, are 
 frequently able to rally in the midst of disorder, and recover, in an 
 instant, what they appeared to have lost irreparably. The battle we 
 describe affords a memorable example of it. The English, in their 
 flight, threw themselves into a large and very strong house, where 
 they jyifeolved to make a desperate defence. Others took shelter in 
 thick and almost impenetrable brushwood ; and others in a garden 
 enced with palisades. Here the action recommenced with more 
 obstinacy than at first. The republicans did all that was to be ex- 
 pected of valiant soldiers, to dislodge their enemies from these new 
 posts. The house was battered by four pieces of artillery. Colonel 
 Washington, on the right, endeavored to penetrate into the wood, and 
 colonel Lee to force the garden. Their efforts were vain ; the 
 English defended themselves so strenuously, that they repulsed the 
 assailants with heavy loss. Colonel Washington himself was wounded 
 and taken. The conflict was fierce, the carriage dreadful ; but no 
 where more than about the house. Meanwhile, colonel Stewart, 
 having rallied his right wing, pushed it forward, by a circuitous 
 movement, against the left flank of the Americans. This bold ma- 
 noeuvre convinced the American general that he would but vainly 
 waste torrents of blood in further attempts to drive the enemy from 
 their posts, and he ordered a retreat. He returned to his first en- 
 campment, some miles distant from the field of battle. This retro- 
 grade march was attributed to want of water. He brought off about 
 five hundred prisoners, and all his wounded, with the exception of 
 those who were too near the walls of the house. He lost two pieces 
 of cannon. The English passed the rest of the day in their intrench- 
 ments. At night, they abandoned them, and descended to Monks 
 Corner. The Americans write that the royalists, in their hurry, had 
 staved the casks containing spirituous liquors, and broken, or thrown 
 into the Eutaw, a great quantity of arms. The loss of Greene in thi.. 
 action was estimated at upwards of six hundred men in killed, 
 wounded and prisoners; that of Stewart, inclusive of the mjssing, 
 was much more considerable. The American soldiers exhibited in 
 this combat an extraordinary valor. Impatient to close with their 
 enemies, they promptly resorted to the bayonet, a weapon which 
 they seemed to dread in the commencement of hostilities, and which 
 was now become so formidable in their war-trained hands. The 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 379 
 
 Congress voted public thanks to those who had taken part in the 
 battle of Eutaw Springs. They presented general Greene with a 
 conquered standard, and a medal of gold. 
 
 A short time after, having received some reenforcements, he re- 
 solved to make another trial of fortune, and marched against the 
 English in lower Carolina. His appearance in the environs of 
 Monks Corner, "and of Dorchester, decided them to evacuate the 
 open country, and shut themselves up entirely within Charleston. 
 They contented themselves with sending out scouts, and foraging 
 parties, who durst not venture far from the place. Greene, from his 
 great superiority in light troops, repulsed them upon all points, and 
 intercepted their convoys. In this manner the American general put 
 an end to the campaign of the South. After a long and sanguinary 
 struggle, his masterly manoeuvres recovered to the confederation the 
 two Carolinas and Georgia, excepting only the two capitals of the 
 one and other province, which still obeyed the English, with a slender 
 portion of territory in their immediate vicinity ; such were the fruits 
 of the resolution taken by lord Cornvvallis, at Wilmington, of carrying 
 his arms against Virginia. But to Greene great eulogies are due for 
 the talents he signalised in this conjuncture. When he came to 
 relieve general Gates in the command of the southern army, the 
 state of things was not only calamitous, but almost desperate. By 
 his genius, activity and boldness, the evil was remedied so promptly, 
 that from vanquished, his soldiers became soon victorious; from 
 despondency, the people passed to a confidence without bounds ; 
 and the English, but now so arrogant, were forced to seek their only 
 safety behind the walls of Charleston. 
 
 The social qualities, ingenuousness and affability of manners, set 
 off in Greene the glory of the warrior. His virtues triumphed over 
 envy itself; illustrious for the eminent services which he rendered 
 his country, and uniformly modest and unaffected, he merited that 
 his name should be transmitted immaculate to posterity. Virginia 
 was' less fortunate than Carolina; Arnold, as if he had coveted to 
 couple the name of bandit with that of traitor, carried fire and sword 
 into that province. Private property he respected as little as that of 
 the state. This horrible expedition, as we have already remarked, 
 had been ordained by the British generals with no other view but 
 that of seconding the efforts .of Cornvvallis in the Carolinas, by 
 diverting the attention and dividing the forces of the enemy. In 
 effect, the reduction of Virginia to the power of the king with means 
 so inadequate, was a thing impossible to be executed, or even to be 
 expected. This was soon demonstrated. The disastrous conse- 
 quences of the plan adopted by Cornwallis, were equally fatal for 
 Arnold. Already, the rising of the militia of all the adjacent parts 
 had forced him to abandon the open country, and fall back with 
 precipitation upon Portsmouth, where he fortified himself with 
 
3SO THE AMERICAN WAll. BOOK XIII. 
 
 extreme diligence. On the other hand, Washington, attentive to all 
 his movements, and wishing to gratify the just resentment of the 
 American nation towards its betrayer, formed a design to environ him 
 so effectually, by land and sea, as to render his escape impossible. 
 With this intent, he had detached the marquis de la Fayette towards 
 Virginia, at the head of twelve hundred light infantry; and had also 
 induced the commander of the French fleet at Rhode Island to 
 despatch a squadron of eight sail* of the line, under the chevalier 
 Destouches, to cut off the retreat of Arnold from the Chesapeake. 
 But the English being early apprised of it, admiral Arbuthnot made 
 sail from New York with a squadron of equal force, and fell in with 
 the French off Cape Henry. A warm engagement ensued, in which 
 the loss of the two fleets was nearly balanced. Tiie French, how- 
 ever, found themselves constrained to relinquish their designs, and 
 returned to Rhode Island. Upon this intelligence, M. de la Fayelte, 
 who was already arrived at Annapolis, in Maryland, marched thence 
 to the head of Elk. Thus Arnold escaped from, probably, the 
 most imminent danger in which he had ever been involved. The 
 Americans had afterwards occasion to send a flag to his head- 
 quarters. It is related, that the traitor general asked the person who 
 bore it, what they would have done with him if they had taken him f 
 The American answered without hesitation ; ' If we had taken thee. 
 we should have buried, with every mark of honor, that of thy legs, 
 which was wounded when thou wast in our service ; the rest of thy 
 body we should have hanged.' 
 
 On hearing of the danger which had menaced Arnold, general 
 Clinton doubted the generals of Congress might be more happy in a 
 second attempt. He therefore immediately despatched a reenforce- 
 ment of two thousand men, under the conduct of general Phillips. 
 His junction with Arnold put them in condition to resume the 
 offensive ; and their inroads into Virginia were again signalised by 
 devastation and pillage. At Osborn, they destroyed a great number 
 of vessels, rich magazines of merchandise and principally of tobacco. 
 The baron Steuben, who commanded the republicans, found himself 
 too weak to resist. Fortunately, the marquis de la Fayette arrived 
 in time to save the opulent city of Richmond. There, however, he 
 was forced to witness the conflagration of Manchester, a town situated 
 opposite to Richmond, upon the right bank of the James River. 
 The English were pleased to burn it without any necessity. But 
 soon this partisan war was directed towards a single and determinate 
 object. General Phillips had received intelligence that lord Corn- 
 vvallis approached, and that he was already on the point of arriving 
 at Petersburgh. M. de la Fayette was advised of it likewise. 
 Both, accordingly, exerted themselves to reach Petersburgh before 
 the troops that were advancing from Carolina ; the one to join Corn- 
 wallis, the other to prevent this junction. The English outstripped 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 381 
 
 their adversaries, and occupied that little city. There general 
 Phillips was carried off by a malignant fever; his military talents 
 rendered his loss peculiarly painful to his party. 
 
 After a march of three hundred miles, in the midst of difficulties 
 of every sort, lord Cornvvallis at length arrived at Petersburgh, 
 where he took the general command of all the British forces. The 
 establishment of the seat of war in Virginia, coincided perfectly with 
 the designs which the British ministers had formed upon this pro- 
 vince. As soon as they were informed of the victory of Guildford, 
 they had persuaded themselves that the two Carolinas were entirely 
 reduced under the authority of the king, and that little else remained 
 to be done besides reorganising in them the accustomed civil admi- 
 nistration. They had not the least doubt that wise regulations would 
 consummate the work, which the arms of Cornwallis had so happily 
 commenced. They built, with particular confidence, on the support 
 of the loyalists. Notwithstanding so many fatal experiments, so 
 many abortive hopes, they still eagerly listened to all the illusions, 
 and to all the news spread by the refugees, so unavoidably impelled 
 by their position to -cherish the wildest chimeras. The British 
 government therefore expected that the cooperation of the loyalists, 
 a few garrisons left in the most important posts, together with the 
 terror of the arms of Cornwallis, would suffice to curb the patriots, 
 and to confirm the submission of these provinces. As to Virginia, 
 intersected by a great number of broad and deep rivers, whose 
 mouths form upon its coasts several gulfs or bays suitable for anchor- 
 age, the naval forces sent thither by Rodney from the West Indies, 
 seemed to guaranty the naval superiority of England in those wa- 
 ters. Accordingly, the ministers never allowed themselves to doubt, 
 that if this province could not be entirely reduced, it would at least 
 be very easy to press it, and waste it to such a degree that its utility 
 should cease for the American union. They had therefore decided 
 that the commanders of the land forces should make choice of an 
 advantageous position upon the coasts of Virginia, and that they 
 should secure the possession of it by fortifications capable of .repel- 
 ling all attacks of the enemy. This measure and the presumed 
 superiority c-f the British marine, appeared to the cabinet of St. 
 James, a sure pledge of the entire subjugation of Virginia ; and 
 for the reasons already stated, it felt perfectly assured of the posses- 
 sion of the two Carolinas, as also of Georgia. It was deemed the 
 more certain that nothing was to be feared from the French squa- 
 drons, as the coasts of these vast provinces are nearly without ports, 
 and since the few they offer were in the power of the royal troops. 
 Finding themselves thus already masters of four rich provinces in the 
 south, as well as of that of New York, inestimable alike for its 
 resources, and for its ports, the ministers persuaded themselves that 
 the moment could not be distant when the Americans .would yieUr 
 VOL. ii. 40 
 
382 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 through weariness and exhaustion. They felicitated themselves that, 
 at all events, they were able to resume the offensive. 
 
 Such were the reasonings at London ; but it was not known there 
 that the British fleets, instead of having the advantage in point of 
 force, were decidedly inferior in the American seas ; that the Caro- 
 linas, instead of being in the power of the king, were returned 
 almost totally under that of the Congress ; and that although Corn- 
 wallis was indeed arrived in Virginia, he had shown himself there, 
 notwithstanding his success at Guildford, rather as vanquished than 
 victor. 
 
 Meanwhile, Cornwallis, after having staid a few days at Peters- 
 burgh, where he was reenforced by some hundred soldiers, sent him 
 from New York by Clinton, took a resolution to cross the river James, 
 and penetrate into the interior of Virginia. He had little apprehen- 
 sion of meeting American troops ; supposing them both too weak, 
 and too much dispersed to attempt resistance. In effect, the baron 
 Steuben occupied the upper parts of the province, the marquis de la 
 Fayette the maritime districts, and general Wayne, who was on the 
 march with the regular troops of Pennsylvania, was still at a great 
 distance. The British general therefore crossed the river without 
 opposition at Westover ; the marquis de la Fayette had retired behind 
 the Chickahominy. Thence, Cornwallis detached a corps which 
 occupied Portsmouth. The loyalists, or those who wished to appear 
 such, repaired to that city in order to give in their paroles and 
 receive protections. The county of Hanover was entirely overrun 
 by the foragers of the British army. Lord Cornwallis was informed, 
 about this time, th'at many of the most considerable men of the 
 country were assembled in convention at Charlotteville, to regulate 
 the affairs of the province ; and that the baron Steuben was posted 
 at the Point of Fork, situated at the junction of the rivers James 
 and Rivana. The Americans had established at this place maga- 
 zines of arms and munitions of war. These advices, added to the 
 consideration that this part of the territory not having yet been the 
 theatre of war was likely to abound in every kind of supplies, deter- 
 mined lord Cornwallis to attempt, first of all, the expeditions of 
 Charlotteville and the Point of Fork. He committed the first to 
 Tarleton, the second to Semcoe. Both were crowned with success. 
 The first, by the rapidity of his march, arrived so unexpectedly upon 
 the city that he seized a great number of deputies, and made himself 
 master of a considerable quantity of warlike stores and provision. 
 But the personage, whom he had it most at heart to secure, was one 
 of those who escaped him, and that was Thomas Jefferson, since 
 president of the United States ; having had the good fortune to be 
 timely apprised of the approach of the British troops, he put himself 
 out of their reach ; not however without having first, with extreme 
 pains and the assistance of his neighbors, provided for the safety of 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 383 
 
 no small quantity of arms and ammunition. If Tarleton had some- 
 times complained of the two great benignity of his comrades, no one, 
 assuredly, could make him the same reproach. His rapacity and 
 imprudence no longer observed any bounds ; nothing was sacred in 
 his sight, nothing escaped his barbarous hands. Simcoe, on his part, 
 had moved with equal celerity against the baron Steuben. That 
 general might have made a vigorous resistance ; it is not known what 
 motive could have decided him to a precipitate retreat; and yet he 
 was not able to protect his rear guard against the pursuit of the Bri- 
 tish, who reached it, and cut a part of it in pieces. When the 
 colonels Tarleton and Semcoe were returned to camp, lord Corn- 
 wallis, traversing a rich and fertile country, marched upon Rich- 
 mond, and, a little after, upon Williamsburgh, the capital of Virginia. 
 His light troops, however, could no longer forage at large ; the 
 marquis de la Fayette had joined the baron Steuben, and having 
 been reenforced by the Pennsylvania regiments of general Wayne, 
 he found himself in a situation to watch all the movements of the 
 British army, and to cut off the parties that ventured to stray from 
 it. Cornwallis received at this same time orders from general Clin- 
 ton, requiring him to reembark a part of his troops for New York. 
 Not that Clinton meditated any important stroke ; but he had been 
 advised of the approach of the allies, and he expected to see the 
 storm burst upon his head. He feared at the same time for New 
 York, Staten Island, and Loi>g Island ; his force was not sufficient 
 for their defence. In order to obey, Cornwallis marched his troops 
 towards the banks of the James river. He intended, after having 
 passed it, to repair to Portsmouth, where he would have embarked 
 the corps destined for New York. But as M. de la Fayette follow- 
 ed him extremely close, he found himself constrained to make a halt 
 upon the left bank of the river, and to take possession of a strong 
 position, in order to repress the impetuosity of his adversary, and 
 give time to his troops for passing the artillery, munitions and bag- 
 gage to the other side. He encamped therefore along the river, 
 having his right covered by a pond, and the centre and left by 
 swamps. 
 
 Meanwhile, the American vanguard, commanded by general 
 Wayne, had advanced very near. The English despatched spies 
 among the Americans, in order to make them believe that the bulk 
 of the royal army had already passed to the right bank, and that 
 only a feeble rear guard remained upon the left, consisting of the 
 British legion and some detachments of infantry. Whether the 
 republicans allowed themselves to be caught in this snare, or that 
 they were hurried away by an inconsiderate valor, they fell with 
 great fury upon the royal troops. Already the regular regiments of 
 Pennsylvania, led by general Wayne, had passed the swamp, and 
 fiercely assailed the left wing of the royalists ; and notwithstanding 
 
384 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 the great superiority of the enemy, the assailants appeared nowise 
 daunted. But the English having passed the pond, advanced against 
 the left wing, which consisted entirely of militia. Having dispersed 
 it without difficulty, they showed themselves upon the left flank of 
 Wayne. At the same time, extending their own left beyond the 
 swamp, they had turned his right, and manifested an intention of 
 surrounding him on every side. The marquis de la Fayette per- 
 ceived this manoeuvre, and immediately directed Wayne to fall back. 
 He was unable to execute this movement without leaving two pieces 
 of cannon in the power of the enemy. M. de la Fayette remained 
 some time at Green Springs, in order to collect the scattered soldiers. 
 Cornwallis reentered his intrenchments. The approach of night, 
 and the nature of the country, broken with woods and marshes, pre- 
 vented him from pursuing the Americans. The next morning, before 
 sunrise, he detached his cavalry upon the route taken by the marquis 
 de la Fayette, with orders to hang upon his rear, and harass him as 
 much as possible. All the harm it did him, consisted in the taking 
 of a few soldiers who had lagged behind. It is presumable, that if 
 Cornwallis had advanced the following day with all his force, he might 
 have cut off the republicans entirely. But all his views were directed 
 towards Portsmouth, in order to embark the troops there which Clin- 
 ton expected at New York. When he had passed the river James 
 with his whole army, he accordingly hastened to Portsmouth ; but 
 upon a strict examination of places, be was convinced that they did 
 not offer him a position suitable by its strength and other advantages 
 to favor the ulterior designs of Clinton. He proceeded, however, with 
 diligence to embark the troops. In the meantime, he received new 
 instructions from Clinton, directing him to return to Williamsburgh, 
 to retain all the troops he had with him, and instead of Portsmouth, 
 to make his place of arms of Point Comfort, in order to have, in any 
 event, a secure retreat. 
 
 Two principal causes had determined general Clinton to embrace 
 this new resolution ; he had received from Europe a reenforcement 
 of three thousand Germans ; and he was influenced, besides, by a 
 desire to open himself a passage by way of Hampton and the James 
 river, towards that fertile and populous part of Virginia which lies 
 between the James and York rivers. But Point Comfort, on attentive 
 examination, was found an equally unfavorable and defective position 
 for an intrenched camp, and no less incompetent than Portsmouth 
 for the purposes in view. It was therefore determined to relinquish 
 the design of fortifying it. The plan of future operations requiring, 
 however, the occupation of a fixed point in the country comprehend- 
 ed by the above mentioned rivers, lord Cornwallis resolved to repass 
 the river James with all his army, and take up his head-quarters at 
 Yorktown. The marquis de la Fayette was desirous to oppose his 
 passage ; but the Americans that were in his camp would not con- 
 sent to march lower down towards Portsmouth. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 385 
 
 Yorktown is a village situated upon the right bank of the river 
 York, and opposite to another smaller town called Gloucester. The 
 latter is built upon a point of land which projects into the river from 
 the left side, and which considerably diminishes the breadth of its 
 channel. The water is deep there, and capable of receiving the largest 
 ships of war. On the right of Yorktown flows a marshy stream ; in 
 front of the place, for the distance of a mile, the ground is open and 
 level. In advance of this plain is a wood, whose left extends to the 
 river, and whose right is bordered by a creek. Beyond the wood 
 the country is champaign and cultivated, Coniwallis applied his 
 attention to intrench himself in the strongest possible manner upon 
 this ground. 
 
 After the affair of Jamestown, the marquis de la Fayette had 
 retired between the rivers Mattapony and Pamonky, the waters of 
 which united, compose the York river. Upon intelligence of the 
 new position taken by Coniwallis, he recrossed the Pamonky, and 
 took post in the county of New Kent ; not that he intended to attack 
 the English ; his force did not admit of it ; but he was disposed, at 
 least, to harass them, to repress their excursions, and to prevent 
 their foraging in the country. Washington had intrusted M. de la 
 Fayette with the charge of defending Virginia ; he acquitted him- 
 self of it in the most satisfactory manner ; sometimes by his manoeu- 
 vres holding Cornwallis in check, and sometimes combating him with 
 vigor, he at length conducted him to a place, where he might hope 
 to be seconded by the powerful French fleet that was expected upon 
 the American coast. 
 
 Hitherto the campaign of Virginia had presented no inconsidera- 
 ble vicissitude of events; but all equally destitute -of importance. 
 The scene was changed ; and the plan which tended, by a decisive 
 stroke, to put an end to the whole American war, drew day by day 
 more near to its accomplishment. The American government was 
 informed that the count de Grasse, with his fleet and a body of land 
 troops, was about to arrive. It therefore neglected no dispositions 
 that were demanded by the occasion, in order to be in a situation to 
 profit of the great 'superiority which the allies were soon to have, 
 as well by land, as by sea. To this end, Washington and Rocham- 
 beau had an interview at Wethersfield. The count de Barras, who 
 commanded the French squadron at anchor in Rhode Island, was 
 likewise to have been present at the conference, but was detained by 
 other duties. The siege of New York was resolved upon between 
 the two generals. They agreed, that it was necessary to wrest from 
 the English that shelter, which from the commencement of hostilities 
 to the present hour, had been so favorable to their enterprises. 
 From that day, all the movements of the French and Americans 
 were directed towards this object. They had calculated them in 
 such a manner as that the appearance of the count de Grasse upon 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 / 
 
 the American coasts, should be the signal for commencing the siege. 
 Clinton so dreaded the blow, that solely on this account he had 
 determined, as we have seen, to recall a part of the troops of Corn- 
 wallis, prior to the arrival of the German corps. Washington che- 
 rished good hope of success in the expedition of New York ; he felt 
 assured that the states of the Union, particularly those of the north, 
 would promptly satisfy the requisitions which had been made them, 
 to furnish each a determinate number of soldiers. But they had 
 accomplished only in part the desires of the commander-in-chief. 
 Instead of twelve or fifteen thousand continental troops that he had 
 hoped to assemble for an operation of this importance, he found him- 
 self at the head of only four or five thousand regulars, and about an 
 equal number of militia. It was however to be considered, that the 
 conquest of New York would require great efforts, since general 
 Clinton had a garrison there of more than ten thousand men. The 
 enterprise, could not reasonably be undertaken with so inadequate a 
 force. Moreover, the count de Grasse had declared that in conse- 
 quence of the orders of his sovereign, and of the convention he had 
 made with the Spaniards in the West Indies, it would not be possible 
 for him to remain upon the coasts of America later than the middle 
 of October ; and assuredly so short a space of time would not have 
 sufficed for the reduction of New York. Finally, it was known that 
 sea officers in general, and especially the French, had no little repug- 
 nance to crossing the bar which lies at the entrance of the harbor of 
 that city. All these considerations diverted Washington from his 
 purpose of besieging New York. He reflected, that although his 
 army was too weak for that enterprise, it was nevertheless sufficient 
 to act with great probability of success against Cornvvallis in Vir- 
 ginia ; and he accordingly decided for the more attainable object. 
 But the movements he had already made, having given jealousy to 
 Clinton for New York, he resolved, notwithstanding that he had 
 changed his plan, to nourish the suspicions of his adversary by a 
 series of the most spirited demonstrations ; to the end that he might 
 not penetrate his real design, and throw obstacles in its way. In 
 order to lead him more speciously into the snare, he wrote letters to 
 the southern commanders and to members of the government, inform- 
 ing them of his determination to attack New York. He sent these 
 despatches by such ways as he knew would expose them to be inter- 
 cepted by the enemy. The stratagem succeeded perfectly. Clin- 
 ton, full of apprehension for a city which had become his place ol 
 arms, was indefatigable in multiplying its defences. In the mean- 
 time, the count de Rochambeau, had set out from Rhode Island, at 
 the head of 'five thousand French, and was already advanced near 
 the borders of the Hudson. Washington broke up his camp at 
 New Windsor, and went to meet him upon the eastern bank. After 
 their junction, the combined armies encamped at Philipsburgli, in a 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 387 
 
 situation to overawe Kingsbridge and the adjoining posts, and even 
 to alarm the island of New York. They afterwards actually took 
 post at Kingsbridge, and continued to insult the British outposts on 
 all sides. Not content with these demonstrations, the principal 
 officers of both armies attended by the engineers, reconnoitred the 
 island of New York closely on both sides from the opposite shores ; 
 and to render appearances the more serious, took plans of all the 
 works under the fire of their batteries. At the same time, a report 
 of the expected daily arrival of the count de Grasse was sedulously 
 propagated ; and to give it full confirmation, when they had received 
 advices from that commander of the time at which he hoped to 
 arrive at the Chesapeake, the French troops advanced towards 
 Sandy Hook, and the coasts opposite Staten Island, with an apparent 
 view of seconding the operations of the fleet, in forcing the one and 
 seizing upon the other. This deception was carried so far, as to 
 the establishment of a bakery -near the mouth of the Rariton, and 
 just within the Hook. 
 
 According to these different movements of the combined army, 
 general Clinton no longer doubted but that New York was menaced 
 with an immediate attack. But the time was now at hand, when 
 this bandage, which had been drawn with so much address over the 
 eyes of the British commander, was ready to fall, and admit him to 
 a clear view of the truth. When Washington had authentic intelli- 
 gence that the count de Grasse was no longer far from the Chesa- 
 peake, he suddenly passed the Croton, then the Hudson ; and 
 proceeded by forced marches through New JeVsey to Trenton upon 
 the Delaware. He gave out, however, and even persuaded the 
 British general by his demonstrations, that his only object was to 
 draw him out of New York, in order to fight him in the open field 
 with superior forces. Clinton, thinking to defeat one shrewd turn 
 by another, remained behind his walls ; but the American general- 
 issimo having at length received advice that the French fleet was in 
 sight of the coasts, no longer delayed to cross the Delaware. He 
 marched with extreme celerity across Pennsylvania, and appeared 
 all of a sudden at the head of Elk, upon the northern extremity of 
 the Chesapeake bay. An hour after, so admirably had the operations 
 been concerted, or rather by the most fortunate accident, the count 
 de Grasse entered into the bay the twenty-eighth of August, with 
 twenty-five sail of the line ; and no sooner was he arrived than he 
 set himself to execute the plan agreed upon. He blocked up the 
 mouths of the two rivers of York and James. By making himself 
 master of the first, he cut off all maritime correspondence between 
 Cornwallis and New York ; by the occupation of the second, he 
 o&ened a communication with the marquis de la Fayette, who had 
 Already descended as far as Williamsburgh. His position had occa- 
 sioned at first some disquietude. It was feared lest Cornwallis. 
 
THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 perceiving at length the circle that was traced around him, might 
 profit of the superiority that he still had .over the marquis, to fall 
 upon him, overwhelm him, and thus escape into the Carolinas. Not 
 a moment was lost in preventing so fatal a stroke ; three thousand 
 French troops embarked in light boats, and commanded by the 
 marquis de St. Simon, ascended the James river, and made their 
 junction with the marquis de la Fayette ; he had established his 
 head-quarters at Williamsburgh. The English had already much 
 increased the fortifications of Yorktown, and were still at work on 
 them with indefatigable industry. The allies had therefore to 
 expect a siege in form ; and a powerful train of heavy artillery was 
 indispensably necessary. Three days before the arrival of M. de 
 Grasse in the Chesapeake, the count de Barras had made sail from 
 Rhode Island with four ships of the line and some frigates or cor- 
 vettes ; he had embarked whatever implements of siege he had 
 been able to collect. But he was not ignorant that a numerous 
 British squadron lay in the port of New York, and he was sensible 
 that the succour with which he was charged could not be intercept- 
 ed without destroying all hope of success. He had therefore stood 
 far out to sea, and after reaching the waters of the Bahama islands, 
 had shaped his course for the Chesapeake. Admiral Hood had 
 appeared at the entrance of that bay, with fourteen sail of the line, 
 the very day on which the count de Grasse had arrived there ; dis- 
 appointed at not finding admiral Graves, whom he had counted upon 
 meeting in those waters, he immediately despatched a swift sailing 
 frigate to apprise him of his arrival, and proceeded, without loss of 
 time, to join him with all his fleet at Sandy Hook. Admiral Graves, 
 as we have already seen, had received no previous notice whatever 
 of the intended approach of Hood. His ships also had suffered 
 extremely by violent gales of wind during his cruise in the waters of 
 Boston, and were entirely out of condition to put to sea. The chief 
 command having devolved on him, as senior officer, the moment he 
 was informed that the count de Barras had set sail from Rhode 
 Island, he had pushed the reparation of his fleet with so much acti- 
 vity, that by the last day of August it was again fitted for sea. At 
 the head of nineteen sail of the line, he set sail for the Chesap 
 which he hoped to gain before the count de Barras. It appears. ' 
 he was still in total ignorance of the arrival of the count de Grasl 
 in that bay. As soon as the British admiral had made Cape H'.rn 
 he discovered the French fleet, which consisted at that moment 
 twenty-four sail of the line. It extended from the Cape to the igij 
 called the Middle Ground. Notwithstanding he had five ships h 
 than his adversary, Graves prepared himself instantly for action. *v 
 the other hand, the count de Grasse, at sight of the British i 
 slipped his cables with admirable promptitude, and, full of C'QgjT 
 dehce in victory, advanced with press of sail to encounter the eneH 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 389 
 
 The intention of the English was to engage as close an action as 
 possible. They perceived how fatal an influence the loss of so im- 
 portant an occasion might have upon the success of the British arms, 
 and even upon the issue of the war. A total defeat would scarcely 
 have been more prejudicial to the interests of England than a loose 
 and indecisive battle. It left the French masters of the Chesapeake, 
 and lord Cornwallis still exposed to the same perils. But the count 
 de Grasse, sensible of his advantages, would not commit to the 
 caprices of fortune the decision of events, which he considered him- 
 self as already certain of controlling. This prudent course seemed 
 also to be prescribed him by the absence of fifteen hundred of his 
 seamen, who were then employed in conveying M. de St. Simon's 
 troops up the river James ; and the British fleet made its appear- 
 ance so suddenly, that there was no time for recalling them. The 
 count de Grasse wished only to arrest the enemy bv partial and 
 distant collisions, long enough to cover the arrival of the count de 
 Barras. 
 
 With these opposite intentions the two admirals advanced the one 
 against the other. The engagement soon became extremely warm 
 between their vans ; some ships of the centre also took part in it. 
 The French, who were not willing that the action should become 
 too general, drew off their vanguard, which had already suffered 
 severely. The approach of night, and the nearness of hostile shores, 
 dissuaded the British admiral from the resolution of renewing the 
 engagement. His own van had likewise been very roughly treated. 
 The ships most damaged were the Shrewsbury, the Montague, the 
 Ajax, the Intrepid, and the Terrible. The latter was so shattered 
 and torn, that the water gaining upon all the efforts of her pumps, she 
 was burnt by order of admiral Graves. The English lost in this 
 action in killed and wounded, three hundred and thirty-six sailors 
 and marines; the French little more than two hundred. 
 
 The hostile fleets continued for four successive days, partly repair- 
 ing their damages, and partly manosuvring in sight of each other ; but 
 the French having generally maintained the wind, and their motives 
 for not engaging a general affair remaining always the same, the 
 battle was not renewed. When at length the count de Grasse had 
 advice that the count de Barras was entered sound and safe into the 
 Chesapeake, with his squadron and convoy, he retired from the open 
 sea and came to anchor in the interior of the bay. Fortune showed 
 herself in everything adverse to the English. They had endeavored 
 to profit of the absence of the count de Grasse to transmit despatches 
 to lord Cornwallis, by the frigates Isis and Richmond ; they could 
 not accomplish their mission, and both fell into the power of the 
 French. 
 
 Admiral Graves, seeing the disastrous condition of his fleet, the sea 
 becoming daily more tempestuous, and his hopes of intercepting the 
 VOL. it. 50 
 
390 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 convoy of M. de Barras entirely foiled, had, a few days after, 
 returned to New York. The French, becoming thus entirely mas- 
 ters of the bay, disembarked, in the first place, the artillery and 
 munitions of war which they had brought from Rhode Island, and 
 then employed the transports with the frigates and light vessels of the 
 fleet, in conveying the army of Washington from Annapolis to the 
 mouth of James river, and thence to Williamsburgh. At the head 
 of Elk, the combined army had not been able to collect shipping 
 enough for this passage. 
 
 Thus Cornwallis found himself restricted to the place he occupied. 
 By an admirable concurrence of well concerted operations, and of 
 circumstances the most auspicious to his adversaries, his troops, still 
 seven thousand strong, were surrounded on every side. An army of 
 twenty thousand combatants, of which only a fifth part were militia, 
 invested Yorktown upon every point on the side of the land, while a 
 fleet of near thirty sail of the line, and a multitude of light vessels, 
 stationed at the mouths of the rivers James and York, rendered the 
 blockade of the place as complete as possible. The head-quarters 
 of the combined army had been established at first in Williamsburgh, 
 a city which is only a few miles distant from Yorktown. Care had 
 been taken, however, to detach a considerable corps, consisting 
 mostly of cavalry, under the conduct of M. de Choisy and general 
 Wieden, to encamp on the left bank of the York, before the village 
 of Gloucester, in order to prevent the English from issuing thence to 
 forage. The French had taken post before Yorktown, on the left of 
 the camp, extending from the river above the town to the morass in 
 the centre, where they were met by the Americans, who occupied 
 the right from the river to that spot. 
 
 General Clinton had it very much at heart to extricate Cornwallis ; 
 and in consequence, while admiral Graves was under sail for the 
 Chesapeake, had meditated a diversion in Connecticut. He hoped 
 by insulting that province, to draw thither a part of the American 
 forces ; knowing but too well that if they were left at liberty to push 
 the siege of Yorktown, the blockaded army must inevitably surrender. 
 The principal object of this expedition was to seize New London, a 
 rich -and flourishing town, situated upon the New Thames. The 
 command of it was given to Arnold, who had just returned to New 
 York from his inroad into Virginia. 
 
 The access of the port of New London was rendered difficult by 
 two forts erected upon the opposite banks ; one called Fort Trum- 
 bull, the other Griswold. The royalists having disembarked unex- 
 pectedly, at daybreak, carried the first without much effort ; but the 
 second made a vigorous resistance. Colonel Ladyard had promptly 
 thrown himself into it with a body of militia, and the work itself was 
 very strong, consisting in a walled square with flunks. The royal 
 troops nevertheless attacked with extreme vigor and gallantry ; they 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 301 
 
 were received with no less bravery and resolution. After a very 
 heavy fire on both sides, the English, with the utmost difficulty and 
 severe loss, effected a lodgment upon the fraizing, and at length made 
 their way. good with fixed bayonets, through the embrasures, not- 
 withstanding the fierce defence made by the garrison, who now 
 changing their weapons, fought desperately hand to hand with long 
 spears. The assailants, when finally masters of the place, massacred 
 as well those who surrendered as those who resisted. The town of 
 New London itself was laid in ashes ; it is not known whether by 
 design or chance. A great number of vessels, richly laden, fell into 
 the power of Arnold. This first success obtained, the English, seeing 
 no movement made in their favor, and observing, on the contrary, the 
 most menacing dispositions among the inhabitants, decided for retreat. 
 It was signalised by the most horrible devastations. This expedition 
 was, on their part, but a piratical inroad, absolutely without utility. 
 In vain did they endeavor to make a great noise with their inarch, 
 and their bloody executions in Connecticut, Washington scarcely 
 deigned to notice it. Unshaken in his prior designs, he knew per- 
 fectly that whoever should triumph at Yorktown would have decided 
 the whole of this campaign in his favor. Instead, therefore, of send- 
 ing troops into Connecticut, he drew them all into Virginia. 
 
 Of the two attempts made to succour Cornwallis, the naval battle, 
 and the diversion against New London, neither had obtained its 
 object. Clinton assembled all the principal officers of his army in 
 council, in order to take their opinion upon the most prudent course 
 to be pursued in the present circumstances. Admiral Digby had 
 just arrived from Europe at New York, with three ships of the line, 
 another ship of the same force, and several frigates had also repaired 
 thither from the West Indies. And although, notwithstanding these 
 different reenforcements, the British fleet was still inferior to that of 
 France, yet the pressure of the peril, and the importance of the con- 
 juncture, determined the British commanders to put to sea, and 
 hasten to the relief of the besieged army. They would have wished 
 not to defer an instant, the execution of their resolution ; but the 
 refitting of the ships damaged in the late engagement, constrained 
 them to wait. They hoped, however, that nothing would detain 
 them later than the fifth of October. This is what Clinton announced 
 to Cornwallis in a despatch written in cyphers, which, notwithstand- 
 ing the extreme vigilance of the besiegers, reached him the twenty- 
 ninth of September. This letter made such an impression upon the 
 mind of Cornwallis, that he abandoned all his outposts and defences, 
 and withdrew entirely within the works of the place. This resolu- 
 tion has been much censured by experienced military men ; and 
 some even of the superior officers of the garrison, opposed it openly. " 
 Though the general-in-chief wrote that he had every reason to hope 
 his reenforcements would set sail from New York the fifth of Octo- 
 
392 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 her, should not Cornwallis have reflected that a multitude of unfore- 
 seen causes might derange this plan ; in a word, that of all human 
 enterprises, maritime expeditions are the most exposed to the acci- 
 dents of fortune ? All his cares, all his efforts, should therefore have 
 tended to prolong his defence ; and the outer works afforded him 
 the means for it. They were sufficiently strong, nothing had been 
 neglected in that respect, and the troops were numerous enough to 
 man them suitably. Is it possible, therefore, not to disapprove the 
 determination taken by Cornwallis to crowd his army into a town, or 
 rather, into an intrenched camp, the works of which were still imper- 
 fect? Except, perhaps, upon the declivity of the hill towards the 
 river, the British troops were exposed on all sides to be raked by the 
 artillery of the enemy. 
 
 It may be presumed that in contracting his defences, the British 
 general flattered himself this apparent indication of fear would re- 
 double the temerity of the French, and that by rushing immediately 
 to the assault, they would place in his hands a certain and decisive 
 victory. But Washington was as prudent as intrepid ; and the 
 French generals in those distant regions, showed themselves with 
 reason extremely sparing of the blood of their soldiers. An unani- 
 mous sentiment, moreover, repulsed every measure that could render 
 doubtful an enterprise having such fair pretensions to be considered 
 as certain. It was therefore resolved to open trenches, and to carry 
 on the siege in form, before attempting any attack with open force 
 against the body of the place. 
 
 Yorktown, as we have already said, is situated upon the right bank 
 of the river York. Its narrow circuit now comprised the definitive 
 fate of all the war. The English had surrounded it with fortifications 
 of different kinds. On the right, or upper part, they had walled it 
 with a chain of redoubts, curtained one to another by a parapet and 
 palisade. The redoubts were fraized and palisaded, and were 
 covered besides by abattis and breastworks. A rnorassy ravine 
 extended along the front of these works. The besieged had erected 
 upon it another large redoubt with palisades and ditch ; this was the 
 strongest side of. the place. In front, that is in the centre of the 
 circuit of the place, before which the rnorass became inundated, the 
 defences consisted in a line of strong palisades, and in batteries which 
 commanded the dikes over which it was necessary to cross the ravine. 
 Upon the left flank of this front had been constructed a horn work, 
 in like manner defended by a ditch an j palisade ; and although not 
 yet entirely completed, it was in such forwardness as already to have 
 opened several embrasures. As to the left, or lower part, it was 
 likewise fortified with redoubts and batteries interlinked by an 
 earthen parapet. Two other smaller, and not yet finished redoubts, 
 had been erected at a certain distance without towards the country, 
 in order the more effectually to cover this side, against which it was 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 presumed the principal attack would be directed. The adjacent 
 ground was flat, or furrowed by ravines, and consequently favorable 
 to the besiegers. The space comprised within the fortifications was 
 extremely circumscribed, and afforded no safety to the garrison. 
 Upon the opposite side of the river, the village of Gloucester had been 
 surrounded with earthen works, furnished with artillery where the 
 position admitted ; but these works were of little importance. The 
 trenches were opened by the allied armies in the night, between the 
 sixth and seventh cf October. Notwithstanding the violent fire of 
 the besieged, they pushed their works with so much perseverance, 
 that soon they had completed their first parallel, erected the batteries, 
 and covered them with little less than a hundred pieces of heavy- 
 ordnance. The thickest walls could not have withstood the shock of 
 so heavy a fire, much less those of Yorktown, which were not com- 
 pleted. So far were they from that state, that the British troops were 
 not less employed in their construction under the fire of the enemy, 
 than they were in their defence. In a few days, most of their guns 
 were silenced, their defences in many places ruined, and the shells 
 reached even the ships in the harbor, where the Charon of forty-four 
 guns, with some of the transports, were burnt. It was manifest that 
 valor was impotent against so formidable means of attack, and conse- 
 quently, that the defence could not be of long duration. The artillery 
 of the Americans was commanded by general Knox, who in this siege 
 as in all the other actions of the war, displayed the talents of a 
 consummate engineer. He had formed his cannoniers with sucii 
 success, that the French themselves were astonished at the precision 
 of their mano3uvres. 
 
 In the midst of so many perils, Cornwallis received a despatch from 
 Clinton, which held out the hope that if the winds and unforeseen 
 accidents did not prevent, the relief would sail from New York the 
 twelfth of October. He reminded him, however, that a plan of this 
 nature was subject to a thousand unlucky casualties ; that he wished 
 therefore, to be informed if it was deemed possible to hold out till 
 the middle of November ; his intention, in the contrary case, being 
 to march himself by way of the land, and to fall upon Philadelphia. 
 He could not, doubtless, have undertaken a more efficacious diver- 
 sion in favor of the besieged. Such were the formal promises of 
 general Clinton to lord Cornwallis. How, it may be asked, could 
 the English have deceived themselves so grossly with respect to the 
 time necessary for the reparation of their ships, that instead of de- 
 parting from New York the fifth of October, as they had announced, 
 they did not make sail until the nineteenth ? This miscalculation 
 seems difficult to be accounted for. It is certain only that the 
 promise of succours and their unexpected delay, occasioned the loss 
 of the army. In the firm expectation of being soon relieved, Corn- 
 wallis persisted in his defence, and thus abstained from resorting to 
 
394 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 the means of safety that were in his power. If it be just to acknow- 
 ledge a motive of excuse for his conduct in the first letter, by which 
 Clinton assured him that the fleet would set sail the fifth of October, 
 it will still remain very difficult to justify the resolution to which he 
 adhered, when he had been apprised by a second despatch, that the 
 squadron could not put to sea until the twelfth, a despatch which left 
 room for doubts even with respect to that. Among the principal 
 officers of the garrison commanded by lord Cornwallis, there 
 were not wanting those who advised him to evacuate a place 
 so little susceptible of a long defence, and to transport his arrny 
 suddenly to the left side of the river, where there was still left 
 him a way to escape from the fate that menaced him. They urged 
 him to withdraw in the night to Gloucester with the greater part of 
 his army. This passage might be effected easily with the shipping 
 that lay in the harbor. The superiority of force, and the surprise of 
 an unexpected attack, precluded all doubt of their being able to dis- 
 perse the corps of M. de Choisy, who invested Gloucester. The 
 British army would thus find itself in that fertile country which is 
 situated between the York and the Rappahanock. Not having yet 
 been made the seat of war, it was sure to afford horses and provision 
 in abundance. By forced marches it would be possible to gain an 
 hundred miles upon the enemy, and to protect the retreat by a rear- 
 guard of three thousand picked men, both infantry and cavalry. 
 Once masters of the country beyond the York, they would be at 
 liberty to march upon Philadelphia, and there join general Clinton, 
 who would have repaired thither through New Jersey, or to bend 
 their course towards the Carolinas, keeping the upper route, in order 
 to pass the rivers above the points where they divide into several 
 branches. Either of these ways offered some hope of safety, since 
 Washington, for want of shipping, would not be able to cross the 
 river soon enough to follow the British army ; and not knowing the 
 direction it would have taken, he would be obliged to divide his 
 troops into several 'detachments. And even in the supposition that 
 he was apprised in time of their march, his pursuit would not be 
 prompt enough to come up with them ; since lodgings and subsist- 
 ence for so numerous an army must necessarily fail him. ' By 
 remaining here,' added the partisans of this opinion, ' we devote 
 ourselves to certain destruction ; by opening ourselves a passage, we 
 may yet find safety. We shall, in any event, have the consolation of 
 thinking that so magnanimous an attempt will shed new lustre upon 
 the arms of the king. If it is fated that so gallant an army cannot 
 escape captivity, let this not be till after it has exerted its utmost 
 force to avert it, and after having acquired an honored name and 
 bright fame among the brave !' 
 
 Lord Cornwallis, whatever might have been his motives, would 
 never listen to these salutary counsels ; he persisted in his deter- 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 ruination to defend himself behind walls that were indefensible. 
 Perhaps he persuaded himself that he could prolong his resistance 
 until the arrival of relief, and thus escape the blame to which he 
 exposed himself on the part of his sovereign, in hazarding his 
 army by an attempt to retreat. Perhaps, also, the uncertainty of 
 saving it by this resource, appeared to him as great as that of the 
 arrival of succours. But whatever was the private opinion of the 
 British general, it could have no influence upon that fatal issue which 
 was rapidly approaching. The besiegers had already commenced 
 the labors of the second parallel, and their activity seemed to increase 
 every day. They were now but three hundred yards from the place. 
 The English' endeavored to arrest them by a deluge of bombs and 
 balls. But the artillery of the first parallel kept up so heavy a fire, 
 that the besieged, far from being able to interrupt the labors of the 
 second, soon beheld all their batteries upon their left flank dismount- 
 ed. This event was the more prejudicial to them, as it was against 
 that very part that the allies directed their principal attack. In order 
 to complete their trenches, it remained for them to dislodge the Eng- 
 lish from the two advanced redoubts of which we have made mention 
 above. Washington gave orders that they should be carried by 
 assault. With a view of exciting emulation between the two nations, 
 the attack on the redoubt upon the right was committed to the 
 Americans, and of the other to the French. The American detach- 
 ment was commanded by the marquis de la Fayelte and by colonel 
 Hamilton, aid-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, a young man of 
 the highest expectation. They were accompanied by colonel Lau- 
 rens, son of the former president of Congress, who was at that time 
 confined in the tower of London. He was also a youth of the fairest 
 hope, and would infallibly have furnished a brilliant career if an un- 
 timely death had not snatched him from his family, and from his 
 country. The baron de Viomesnil, the count Charles de Damas, 
 and the count de Deux Ponts, commanded the French. The 
 commanders addressed their soldiers a short exhortation to in- 
 flame their courage ; they represented that this last effort would 
 bring them to the term of their glorious toils. The attack was 
 extremely impetuous. On its success depended in a great mea- 
 sure that of the siege. Relying entirely upon their bayonets, the 
 Americans advanced with unloaded arms ; they passed the abattis 
 and palisades without waiting to remove them. The English, as- 
 tonished at so much audacity, attempted in vain to put themselves 
 ppon defence. The humanity of the conquerors equalled their 
 courage. They granted life to all those who demanded it, notwith- 
 standing the cruelties recently committed at New London. Young 
 Laurens gained great credit upon this occasion, and personally took 
 the commanding officer prisoner. The loss was very moderate 
 on both sides. The redoubt upon the left cost more efforts ; but at 
 
396 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 length, the French chasseurs and grenadiers, animated by the exam- 
 ple of their chiefs, carried it with the bayonet. This double conquest 
 was no less useful to the allies than it was honorable for their arms. 
 Washington presented the two regiments of Gatinois and Deux Fonts, 
 who had contributed to it, with the two pieces of cannon which they 
 had taken. The besieged made no attempt to recover the two 
 redoubts. The besiegers hastened to include them in the second 
 parallel, which before the next morning was entirely completed. 
 The situation of the garrison was become so critical, that it could no 
 longer hope for safety. Cornwallis foresaw perfectly, that when the 
 besiegers should have opened the fire of the batteries of their second 
 parallel, all means of resistance would fail him. The greater part 
 of his artillery was dismounted, broken, or otherwise disabled ; the 
 walls were crumbled into the ditches ; in a word, almost all the de- 
 fences were rased. Having lost the use of his heavy artillery, the 
 British commander gave with difficulty some sign of resistance by 
 firing at intervals with his howitzers and small mortars. 
 
 In this state of things Cornwallis, in order to retard as much as 
 was in his power the completion of the batteries upon the second 
 parallel, resolved to reach them by a vigorous sortie. He did not 
 flatter himself, however, that even by this expedient he should be able 
 to extricate himself from the alarming position he was in, nor yet to 
 protract his defence for any considerable space of time. He wrote 
 to general Clinton that being exposed every moment to an assault 
 in ruined works, and an almost open town, with a garrison weakened 
 by sickness, the distress of Yorktown was such that he could not 
 recommend to the fleet and army to run any great risk in endeavor- 
 ing to save it. 
 
 Meanwhile, a detachment sallied from the place, on the night of 
 the sixteenth of October, under the conduct of colonel Abercrom- 
 bie. They deceived the enemy by answering as Americans ; and, 
 having penetrated to the second parallel, made themselves masters of 
 two batteries, the one French and the other American. The French 
 who had the guard of that part of the intrenchment, suffered con- 
 siderably. The English spiked eleven pieces of cannon, and would 
 have done much more mischief, if the viscount de Noailles had not 
 charged them furiously, and driven them before him into the town. 
 This sortie was not of the least advantage to the besieged. The 
 cannon which w r ere hastily spiked, were soon again rendered fit for 
 service. 
 
 The fire of the place was entirely extinct. Scarcely did it throw 
 from time to time a cohorn shell into the camp of the besiegers ; and 
 this last source of defence was nearly expended. The garrison was 
 sensibly enfeebled by disease ; fatigue and discouragement over- 
 whelmed even the soldiers who remained for service. All hope 
 was vanished ; an assault must prove irremediable. Straitened 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 397 
 
 on all sides, Cornwallis was constrained to resort to new expe- 
 dients. He had recourse to a measure which he ought to have 
 embraced before it was too late ; and that was, to pass the river 
 suddenly with his garrison, and to try fortune upon the opposite bank. 
 He reflected, that even if it was not in his power to escape the enemy 
 entirely, he had at least the hope of retarding the moment of his 
 surrender; and that, in any event, the allies occupied in pursuing him, 
 would not so soon have it in their power to turn their thoughts and 
 arms upon new enterprises. The boats are prepared ; the troops 
 embark ; they leave behind the baggage, the sick and wounded, and 
 a feeble detachment, in order to capitulate for the town's people, 
 with a letter from Cornwallis to Washington, recommending to the 
 generosity of the conqueror the persons not in a condition to be 
 removed. Already a part of the troops is landed at Gloucester 
 Point ; another embarks ; the third division only is waited for ; a 
 perfect calm prevails in the air and upon the waters 5 everything seem- 
 ed to favor the design of the British commander. But all of a sud- 
 den, at that critical moment of hope, apprehension and danger, arose 
 a violent storm of wind and rain, and all was lost. The boats were 
 all driven down the river, and the army thus weakened and divided 
 was involved in a state of the most imminent danger. The day be- 
 gan to appear. The besiegers opened a tremendous fire from all 
 their batteries ; the bombs showered copiously even into the river. 
 But the tempest, in the meantime, had abated ; the boats were able 
 to return, and the English finding this last way of safety interdicted 
 them by inexorable fortune, came back, not without new perils, to 
 that shore, where a certain death or an inevitable captivity awaited 
 them. Again in Yorktown, Cornwallis being sensible that his 
 position was now past all remedy, and preferring the life of his brave 
 troops to the honor they might have acquired in a murderous and 
 desperate assault, sent a flag to Washington, proposing a cessation of 
 arms for twenty-four hours, and that commissioners might be appoint- 
 ed on both sides for settling the terms of capitulation. The Ame- 
 rican general was not disposed to grant so long a time, on account 
 of the possible arrival of British succours. He answered, that he 
 could only grant a truce of two hours ; and that during this interval 
 he should expect the propositions of the British commander. Corn- 
 wallis was desirous that his troops might obtain the liberty of return- 
 ing to their respective countries, the English to England, the Ger- 
 mans into Germany, upon giving their parole not to bear arms against 
 France or America until exchanged. He demanded, besides, the 
 regulation of the interests of those Americans, who having followed 
 the British army, found themselves involved in its fate. Both of 
 these conditions were alike refused ; the first, because it was not in- 
 tended to leave the king of England at liberty to employ his captive 
 regiments in the home garrisons ; the second, because it was a civil 
 
 VOL. IT. 51 
 
398 THE AMERICAN WAIl. BOOK Xllt. 
 
 affair, and not within the competence of the military commanders. 
 As to this last article, Cornwallis prosecuted the negotiation of it 
 with so much ardor, that he at length obtained permission to despatch 
 the sloop Bonetta to New York, with the privilege of passing without 
 search or visit, he being only answerable that the number of persons 
 she conveyed should be accounted for as prisoners of war upon 
 exchange. After various discussions, the two hostile generals having 
 agreed upon the terms of capitulation, the commissioners charged 
 with drawing it up convened in a habitation near the river, called 
 Moore's house ; they were, on the part of the English, the colonels 
 Dundas and Ross ; on the part of the allies, the viscount de Noailles 
 and colonel Laurens. The posts of York and Gloucester were sur- 
 rendered on the nineteenth of October. The land forces became 
 prisoners to America, and the seamen to France. The officers 
 retained their arms and baggage. The soldiers were to be kept 
 together as much as possible in regiments, and to be cantoned in 
 Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania ; a part of the officers engaged 
 to accompany the corps into the interior of the country ; the others 
 were at liberty to go upon parole either to England or New York. 
 The Bonetta, on her return from that city, was to be delivered to the 
 count de Grasse. All the shipping and naval munitions were put 
 into the hands of the French. The British flotilla consisted of two 
 frigates, the Guadaloupe and Fowey, besides about twenty trans- 
 ports ; twenty others had been burnt during the siege. The Ame- 
 ricans had for their portion the field artillery. They found in York- 
 town and Gloucester an hundred and sixty pieces of cannon, the 
 greater part brass, and eight mortars. The number of prisoners, 
 exclusive of seamen, amounted to upwards of seven thousand. Out 
 of this number, more than two thousand were wounded or sick. 
 Tile besieged had about five hundred and fifty slain ; but they lost 
 no officer of note except major Cochrane. On the side of the be- 
 siegers, about four hundred and fifty were killed or wounded. 
 
 When the garrison had deposited their arms, they were conducted 
 to the places of their destination. The talents and bravery displayed 
 in this siege by the allies, won them an immortal glory ; and they 
 still enhanced it by the humanity and generosity with which they 
 treated their prisoners. The French officers, in particular, honored 
 themselves by the most delicate behavior. They seemed to have 
 no other cares but that of consoling the vanquished by every mark 
 of the most sympathising interest. Not content with professions, 
 they made the English th'e most pressing offers of money, both pub- 
 lic and private. Lord Cornwallis in his public letters acknowledged 
 in warm terms the magnanimity of this conduct. 
 
 The fate of York town and its defenders was thus decided, when, 
 the twenty-fourth of October, the British fleet, consisting of twenty- 
 five sail of the line, with two of fifty guns and several frigates, ap- 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 399 
 
 peared at the entrance of the Chesapeake. It had made sail from 
 New York the nineteenth, the day of the capitulation ; it brought a 
 corps of seven thousand men to the succour of Cornwallis. Upon 
 positive intelligence of the catastrophe of Yorktown, the British 
 commanders, filled with grief and consternation, reconducted their 
 forces to New York. 
 
 At the news of so glorious, so important a victory, transports of 
 exultation broke out from one extremity of America to the other. 
 The remembrance of past evils gave place, in all minds, to the most 
 brilliant hopes. Nobody dared longer to doubt of independence. 
 If the victory of Saratoga had produced the alliance with France, 
 that of. Yorktown was to have the effect of establishing on an unsha- 
 ken basis, the liberty of the American people. If the one had been 
 the cause of the successes of the war, the other was about to create 
 the blessings of an honorable peace. In all parts of the United 
 States, solemn festivals and rejoicings celebrated the triumph of 
 American fortune, and the downfall of that of the enemy. The 
 names of Washington, of Rochambeau, de Grasse, la Fayette, 
 resounded every where. To the unanimous acclaim of the people, 
 the Congress joined the authority of its decrees. It addressed thanks 
 to the generals as well as to the officers and soldiers of the victori- 
 ous army. It ordained, that there should be erected at Yorktown of 
 Virginia, a marble column, adorned with emblems of the alliance 
 between the United Slates and the king of France, and inscribed 
 with a succinct narrative of the surrender of earl Cornwallis. It 
 decreed, that Washington should be presented with two stands of 
 British colors ; the count de Rochamheau with two pieces of can- 
 non, and that his most Christian majesty should be requested to per- 
 mit the count de Grasse to accept a like present. The Congress 
 repaired in body to the principal church of Philadelphia, to render 
 their joyful thanksgivings to the most high God for the recent victory. 
 By a special decree, the thirteenth of December was appointed to 
 be observed as a day of prayer and acknowledgment for so signal 
 an evidence of the divine protection. 
 
 The demonstrations of public gratitude towards the captain-general, 
 were not confined to these honors. The provincial assemblies, the 
 universities, the literary societies, addressed him the sincere homage 
 of their felicitations and admiration. He answered with exemplary 
 modesty, that he had done no more than what his duty required of 
 him ; he was eloquent in extolling the valor of the army, and the 
 efficacious assistance of an ally no less generous than powerful. 
 
 Washington would have wished so to profit of the conjuncture as 
 to expel the British entirely from the American continent. He 
 meditated in particular the recovery of Charleston. His design 
 might have been put in execution, if the count de Grasse had been 
 at liberty to remain longer upon the American coasts ; but the express 
 
400 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 oHers of his government recalled him to the West Indies. He made 
 sail for those islands, the fifth of November, taking with him the corps 
 which had served under the marquis cle St. Simon. The troops 
 which had reduced Yorktown were marched in part upon the banks 
 of the Hudson, to watch the motions: of Clinton, who had still a great 
 force at New York. The rest were sent to the Garolinas, to reen- 
 force general Greene, and confirm the authority of Congress in those 
 provinces. The English totally evacuated the open country, and 
 withdrew behind the walls of Charleston and Savannah. The mar- 
 quis de la Fayette embarked about the same time for Europe, bear- 
 ing with him the affection and the regrets of the Americans. The 
 Congress, whilst testifying their high satisfaction with his services, 
 prayed him to advocate the interests of the United States with the 
 French ministry, and to recommend them especially to the benevo- 
 lence of his most Christian majesty. Washington repaired to Phila- 
 delphia, where he had frequent conferences with the Congress upon 
 military operations, and the business of the state. Thanks to his 
 cares and activity, the service of the war department was secured for 
 the following year much earlier than it had ever been before. 
 
 Such was the termination of the campaign of Virginia, which was 
 well nigh being that of all the American war. The disaster of York- 
 town so prostrated the British power upon that continent, that thence- 
 forth the English, utterly despairing of being able to reestablish it, 
 abandoned all idea of acting offensively, and thought only of defend- 
 ing themselves. With the exception of strong places, or countries 
 accessible to their powerful navy, such as the province of New York, 
 the contiguous islands, and the cities of Charleston and Savannah, all 
 the territory was recovered into the power of Congress. Thus, by a 
 sudden reverse of fortune, the victors became vanquished ; thus those, 
 who in the course of a cruel war, had learned from their enemies 
 themselves how to wage it, made such proficiency in the art as in 
 their turn to give lessons to their masters. 
 
 The arms of England were not more fortunate in the West Indies 
 than they had been upon the American continent. The marquis de 
 Bouille was informed that the governor of St. Eustatius relying upon 
 the strength of the island, or upon the absence of the fleet of the 
 count de Grasse, kept a very negligent guard. Without loss of time, 
 he embarked, at Martinico, twelve hundred regular troops with some 
 militia in three frigates, one corvette and four smaller armed vessels. 
 He sailed immediately for St. Eustatius. To confirm the enemy in 
 that profound security to which he abandoned himself, he gave out 
 that he was going to meet the French armament on its return from 
 America. He appeared in sight of the island the twenty-fifth of 
 November. But formidable obstacles awaited him there ; an 
 unusually rough sea not only prevented him from landing all his 
 troops, but even rendered it impracticable for the frigates to approach 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 401 
 
 the shore, and the boats were dashed in pieces against the rocks. 
 The activity of the marquis de Bouille enabled him, after unprece- 
 dented efforts, to put ashore four hundred soldiers of the Irish legion 
 with the chasseurs of two French regiments. This detachment, 
 separated from the rest of the troops by the fury of the sea, was 
 exposed to the most imminent danger ; it was about to encounter a 
 garrison consisting of seven hundred veteran soldiers. But the 
 marquis de Bouille, with the presence of mind that characterised 
 him, immediately took the only determination that could lead him to 
 success ; and that was to push rapidly forward, and seize by surprise 
 what he was in no condition to carry by force. He appeared unex- 
 pectedly under the walls of the fortress ; such was his celerity, and 
 such the negligence of the enemy, that he found a part of the garrison 
 exercising in full security upon the esplanade. The day had but 
 just commenced. The rest of the soldiers were dispersed in the 
 barracks and houses. Deceived by the red coats of the Irish, the 
 garrison took them at first for English ; they were first made sensible 
 of their error by a discharge of musketry, at half portice, which killed 
 several, and wounded a greater number. They were thrown into con- 
 fusion ; governor Cockburne, who returned at this moment from a 
 promenade on horseback, came up, on bearing the strange noise, 
 and was made prisoner. Meanwhile, the French chasseurs had 
 pushed rapidly behind the English, and had already reached the gate 
 of the fortress. The English rushed into it tumultuously, and 
 attempted to raise the drawbridge ; but the French, still more 
 prompt, threw themselves in pell mell with them. Surprised upon 
 all points, and unable to rally, the garrison laid down arms and sur- 
 rendered. Thus the island of St. Eustatius fell into the power of 
 the French. The booty they made was immense ; twenty pieces of 
 cannon were the fruit of victory. A million of livres which had been 
 put in sequestration by the English, was forthwith restored by the 
 generous victor to the Dutch, from whom it had been wrested. 
 Governor Cockburne claimed a sum of two hundred and sixty-four 
 thousand livres as belonging to him personally ; it was assigned him 
 with the same liberality. But the marquis de Bouille thought he 
 had right to distribute among his troops sixteen hundred thousand 
 livres appertaining to admiral Rodney, general Vaughan and other 
 British officers ; as being the produce of the sales they had made at 
 St. Eustatius. Thus M. de la Motte Piquet, at first, then the mar- 
 quis de Bouille stripped the plunderers of this island of the riches 
 they had amassed in it ; they had scarcely any thing left of all their 
 spoils. The neighboring islands of Saba and St. Martin came like- 
 wise the next day into the power of the French. 
 
 1782. In the commencement of the following month of February, 
 a squadron of seven light vessels armed for war, under the command 
 of the count de Kersaint, recovered to Holland the colonies of Deme- 
 
402 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 rary, Issequibo and Berbice ; so that all the conquests of admiral 
 Rodney, on which the British nation had founded the most brilliant 
 hopes of mercantile advantage, were wrested from it with as much 
 promptitude and facility as they had been made. As to France, the 
 preservation of the Cape of Good Hope, and the retaking of the 
 Dutch colonies in America, acquired her the reputation of a faithful 
 and disinterested ally, and thus considerably increased the number of 
 her partisans in Holland. After the conquest of St. Eustatius, the 
 return of the count de Grasse decided the French to follow up their 
 victories. Their superiority both in land and naval forces, authorised 
 them, in effect, to entertain hopes of the most important successes. 
 They directed their views at first towards the opulent island of Bar- 
 badoes. Its position, to windward of all the others, renders it very 
 proper for securing the domination of them. Twice they embarked 
 upon this expedition with all the means fitted to ensure its success, 
 and twice they were driven back by contrary winds. It was neces- 
 sary that the efforts of human valor should yield to the power of the 
 elements. The French commanders then determined to attack the 
 island of St. Christophers situated to leeward of Martinico. The 
 count de Grasse arrived there the eleventh of January, with thirty- 
 two sail of the line, and six thousand men under the marquis de 
 Bouille. The fleet anchored in the road of Basse Terre, and the 
 troops were disembarked. The inhabitants of the island were dis- 
 contented with the British government ; they had always condemned 
 the American war, and they considered themselves, besides, aggrieved 
 by certain acts of parliament. Their indignation was extreme, 
 moreover, that the merchandise which they deposited in the ware- 
 houses of St. Eustatius, had been so shamefully pillaged by Rodney 
 and Vaughan. Consequently, instead of taking arms against the 
 French, they remained tranquil spectators of events. 
 
 The British retired from Basse Terre upon Brimstone Hill. Their 
 force consisted of seven hundred regulars, who were afterwards joined 
 by about three hundred militia. The governor of the island was 
 general Frazer, a very aged officer. The militia were commanded 
 by general Shirley, governor of Antigua. Brimstone Hill is a steep 
 and almost inaccessible rock. It rises upon the seashore, not far 
 from the little town of Sandy Hill, which is considered the second of 
 the island, and situated about ten miles from Basse Terre, which is 
 the capital. The fortifications constructed upon the summit of Brim- 
 stone Hill, were by no means correspondent to its natural strength. 
 They were, besides, too extensive to be susceptible of an efficient de- 
 fence by so feeble a garrison. No sooner were the French disembarked, 
 than they marched in four columns to invest, the hill on all its faces at 
 once. As the artillery of the place incommoded them exceedingly, 
 they found themselves necessitated to proceed with much regularity 
 and caution. They opened trenches, and covered themselves by 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 403 
 
 breastworks. They were almost entirely destitute of heavy artillery, 
 the ship that bore it having foundered near Sandy Point. Their 
 industry and patience, however, succeeded in recovering from the 
 bottom of the sea the greater part of the pieces. They hastened 
 also to procure them from, the neighboring islands. They likewise 
 made themselves masters of some heavy cannon at the foot of the 
 mountain, which had been sent from England a long time before, and 
 which through the negligence of the governor had not been carried 
 into the fortress. Independent of this artillery, a considerable quan- 
 tity of bombs and cannon-ball fell into the power of the French. 
 Thus the arms and ammunition sent by the British government for 
 the defence of the island, were left to be employed for its reduction. 
 The late surprise of St. Eustatius ought, however, to have put the 
 commandant of St. Christophers upon the alert. 
 
 The French, thus finding themselves provided with the apparatus 
 necessary for their operations, established themselves upon the most 
 commanding of the neighboring heights, and began to batter the 
 fortress. The garrison defended themselves valiantly, and with more 
 effect than could have been expected from their small number. 
 
 In the meantime, admiral Hood returned from the coasts of 
 America to Carlisle Bay, in the island of Barbadoes, with twenty-two 
 sail of the line. Upon intelligence of the peril of St. Christophers 
 notwithstanding the great inferiority of his force to that of the count 
 de Grasse, he put to sea again immediately for the relief of the island 
 attacked. He first touched at Antigua to take on board general 
 Prescott with a corps of about two thousand men, and then sailed 
 wilhout delay for the road of Basse Terre, in St. Christophers. At 
 the unexpected appearance of the British fleet, the count de Grasse 
 instantly took his resolution ; he weighed anchor, and sailed forth- 
 with to meet the enemy. His intention, in standing out of the har- 
 bor, was to put himself in condition to take advantage of the 
 superiority of his force, and to prevent Hood from anchoring oft 
 Sandy Point y whence he might easily have thrown succours into the 
 fort on Brimstone Mill. The British admiral, who observed the 
 movements of his adversary, made a feint of intending to await the 
 battle ; then, all at once fell back, in order to draw the count de 
 Grasse more and more distant (rom the fort. As soon as he had 
 effected this object, availing himself of the swiftness of his ships and 
 the advantage of wind, he stood into the bay of Basse Terre and 
 came to anchor in the same spot whence the French admiral had 
 departed, This able manoeuvre was admired by the French them- 
 selves. They followed, however, and with their van engaged that 
 of the EngHsh, but to little effect. The count de Grasse afterwards 
 presented himself with all his fleet at the entrance of the bay. 
 The attack was extremely vigorous ; but the British ships, lying 
 fast at anchor in a line across the itfouth of the harbor, afforded no 
 
404 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 assailable point. The French were unable to make the least effec- 
 tive impression, and lost not a few men in the attempt. It was 
 followed, however, by a second, which had no better success. The 
 count de Grasse then renounced open force, and contented himself 
 with cruising near enough to block up the British fleet in the bay, 
 and protect the convoys of munitions which were on the way to him 
 from Martinico and Guadaloupe. 
 
 Admiral Hood, on rinding that the French had given up all 
 thoughts of disturbing him in his anchorage, put ashore general 
 Prescott, with a corps of thirteen hundred men ; that general having 
 driven in a French post stationed in that part, encamped in a strong 
 position upon the heights. He hoped to find some favorable occasion 
 to succour the fortress. The strength of the place seemed to pro- 
 mise him that general Frazer would be able to hold out still for a long 
 time. Admiral Hood, moreover, had received positive advice, that 
 Rodney was not far off, and that he had brought from Europe a 
 reenforcement of twelve sail of the line. It appeared to him impos- 
 sible that after the junction of all the British forces, the count de 
 Grasse, and still less the marquis de Bouille, should be able to keep 
 the field. 
 
 The capture of all the French troops then on shore was in his 
 opinion an infallible event. But, in spite of all calculations, already 
 the marquis de Bouille having marched two thousand men against 
 general Prescott, had compelled him to evacuate the island and 
 reembark precipitately. On the other hand, the French artillery 
 kept up so terrible a fire against Brimstone Hill, that a number of 
 breaches began to open in the walls, one of them in the part fronting 
 the French camp was already practicable. A general assault would 
 inevitably carry the place. The governor did not think proper to 
 await this terrible extremity. All hope being now extinct, he de- 
 manded to capitulate. The conditions granted him were honorable 
 for the soldiers, and advantageous for the inhabitants of the island. 
 In consideration of their gallant defence, the generals Frazer and 
 Shirley were left in perfect liberty upon their parole. The surrender 
 of Brimstone Hill, placed the whole island of St. Christophers in the 
 power of the French. Admiral Hood, therefore, had no longer a 
 motive for maintaining his anchorage in the bay of Basse Terre ; 
 and moreover his fleet was in some degree exposed there to the fire 
 of the batteries which the French might have established upon the 
 shore. Nor could he overlook the importance of effecting his junc- 
 tion with admiral Rodney, who was daily expected, and who perhaps 
 was already arrived at Barbadoes. Retreat, however, was perilous 
 in the presence of so formidable a force as the French fleet. But 
 the conjuncture admitted of no hesitation. Accordingly, in the night 
 that followed the capitulation, the French being four leagues off, the 
 English cut their cables in order to get under way at the same 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 405 
 
 time, and thus keep their ships more collected and together. This 
 manoeuvre succeeded perfectly ; they gained Barbadoes without op- 
 position. Great was their joy at meeting Rodney in that island, who 
 had just arrived there with twelve sail of the line. The count de 
 Grasse incurred on this head, the most violent reproaches of negli- 
 gence and excessive circumspection. It was maintained, that he 
 should have closely blockaded the British fleet in its anchorage, or 
 attacked it at its departure, or else pursued it in its retreat. His 
 partisans defended him, by alleging that he experienced an extreme 
 scarcity of provisions ; that his ships were by no means so good 
 sailers as those of the enemy, and finally, that he was under an 
 absolute necessity of returning promptly to Martinico in order to 
 cover the arrival of convoys which were expected there from Eu- 
 rope. However these things might be, it remains demonstrated that 
 the junction of the two British admirals, produced in the issue, an 
 incalculable prejudice to the interests of France ; as the sequel of 
 this history will sufficiently evince. About the same lime, the island 
 of Montserrat surrendered to the arms of the counts de Barras and 
 de Flechin. A few days aften, the count de Grasse came to anchor 
 at Martinico. 
 
 We have just seen the fortune of Great Britain depressed alike 
 upon the American continent, and in the West Indies. The arms of 
 king George were not more successful in Europe than in the New 
 World. His enemies had there also the gratification of witnessing 
 the declension of his power. It was especially agreeable to Spain, 
 who first gathered its fruits. The duke de Crillon, knowing with 
 what ardor the Catholic king desired to have in his power the 
 island of Minorca, applied himself with the utmost zeal to the siege 
 of Fort St. Philip. All the resources of the art of war had been 
 employed to reduce it ; a more formidable artillery had never been 
 levelled against a place. But its natural strength, the immense 
 works which covered it, and the perseverance of the besieged, creat- 
 ing apprehensions that the defence might be protracted still for a long 
 time, the Spanish general had recourse to an expedient too little 
 worthy of him. He attempted to seduce governor Murray, and to 
 obtain by corruption what he despaired of carrying by force. He 
 had, it is true, for this degrading step, the positive instructions of his 
 government. General Murray repulsed the offers of his adversary 
 with as much dignity as disdain. He reminded the duke de Crillon, 
 that when one of his valiant ancestors had been requested by his 
 king to assassinate the duke de Guise, he had made him the answer 
 that his descendant should also have made to those who had pre- 
 sumed to commission him to attempt the honor of a man sprung from 
 a blood as illustrious as his own, or that of the Guises. He ended his 
 letter with praying him to cease to write or offer parley, his resolution 
 VOL. IT. 52 
 
406 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 being to communicate wiih him no more, except at the point of the 
 sword.* 
 
 The duke de Crillon gave general Murray to understand, that he 
 could not but honor him for his conduct ; that he rejoiced it had 
 placed them both in that position which befitted them alike ; and 
 that it had greatly increased the high esteem in which he had always 
 held the governor. Meanwhile, the situation of the besieged was 
 become painful in the extreme. Notwithstanding the success of a 
 vigorous sortie, in which they had dislodged the duke de Ci illon from 
 Cape Mola, where he had established his head-quarters, their weak- 
 ness rendered this transitory triumph more hurtful to them than 
 beneficial. The garrison would by no means have sufficed for the 
 defence of so extensive fortifications, even it they had been free trom 
 sickness. But very far from that was their condition. The seeds 
 of the scurvy, with which they were infected, even before the opening 
 of the siege, had developed themselves with a fury which increased 
 from day to day. All who were seized with it either died, or be- 
 came totally useless for the defence of the place. The causes of 
 this mortal disease were principally the scarcity, or rather absolute 
 want, of vegetables, the amassment of soldiers in the casemates, the 
 horrible fetor which resulted from it, and the excessive fatigues of a 
 service almost without remission. To the scurvy, as if not sufficient 
 of itself to exterminate the unhappy garrison, putrid fevers and the 
 dysentery united their destructive rage. Overwhelmed by so many 
 evils, these intrepid warriors piqued themselves upon braving them. 
 Those who were already attacked with pestilential maladies, dissem- 
 bled their sufferings, for fear of not being admitted to share the perils 
 of their comrades. Their ardor had survived their bodily strength ; 
 some of them were seen to expire under arms. 
 
 Nature at length triumphed over the firmness of these generous 
 spirits. In the beginning of February, the garrison found itself so 
 diminished, that there remained only six hundred and sixty men 
 capable of any sort of service ; and, even of this number, the most 
 part were tainted with the scurvy. It was to be feared lest the ene- 
 my, apprised of this disastrous state of things, might precipitate his 
 attacks, and carry the place by storm. There was the. more founda- 
 tion for such an apprehension, as the artillery had already ruined the 
 greater part of the upper defences. Scarcely did there remain a 
 
 * Henry III. despairing of being able to reduce the duke of Guise, consulted the 
 Mareschals 3' Aumont, de Rambouilet and de Beauvais Nangis, who decided that, con- 
 sidering the impossibility of bringing that illustrious rebel to trial, it was necessary to 
 take him off by surprise. The king proposed to the celebrated Crillon to undertake the 
 execution of this murder ; ' I will not assassinate him, answered the bravest of the brave, 
 but I will fight him. When a man is ready to give his life, he is master of that of 
 another.' 
 
 The affectation of general Murray in vaunting in his answer the nobility of his origin, 
 grew out of his pretending to have descended from the earl of Murray, natural son of 
 James V. and brother of Mary Stuart. 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 40? 
 
 few pieces of cannon in a serviceable state, and the fire of the enemy 
 was still unremitting. 
 
 In a situation so utterly hopeless, to resist any longer would have 
 been rather the delirium of a senseless obstinacy, than the effect of a 
 generous constancy. Murray accepted a capitulation, the tenor of 
 which was honorable for his garrison. He was allowed all the honors 
 of war ; the British troops were to be sent to England as prisoners 
 upon parole ; all the foreigners had permission to return to their 
 countries with their effects; the Minorcans who had adhered to the 
 British party, were left at liberty to remain in the island in the undis- 
 turbed enjoyment of their possessions. When the remains of this 
 valiant garrison evacuated Fort St. Philip, they had more the appear- 
 ance of spectres than of men. 
 
 They marched through the French and Spanish armies, which 
 were drawn up fronting each other, and formed a lane for their pas- 
 sage. They consisted of no more than six, hundred old decr-pid 
 soldiers, one hundred and twenty of the royal artillery, two hundred 
 seamen, and about fifty Corsicans, Greeks, Turks and Moors. The 
 victors manifested compassion for the fate of their prisoners ; they 
 could not refuse them even a tribute of admiration, when, arrived 
 at the place where they laid down their arms, they heard them 
 declare, while lifting up to heaven their eyes bathed in tears, that 
 they had surrendered them to God alone. The humanity of the 
 French and Spaniards was highly conspicuous, and worthy of last- 
 ing praise. Yielding to the most generous emotions, the common 
 soldiers of the two nations were forward to administer refreshments 
 and consolations to their unfortunate enemies. The duke and count 
 de Crillon, as well as the baron de Falkenhayn, commander of the 
 French troops, signalised themselves by the most feeling and delicate 
 attentions. Such actions and conduct cast abroad a pleasing 
 shade, which serves to soften the horrors of war, and to hide and 
 alleviate its calamities ; should they not also mitigate the fury of 
 national rivalships and animosities ? 
 
 Thus did the island of Minorca return to the dominion of Spain, 
 after it had been in the possession of Great Britain for upwards of 
 seventy years. 
 
 The news of so many and so grievous disasters, and especially 
 that of Yorktown, produced in England a general consternation, 
 accompanied by an earnest desire of a new order of things. The 
 length of the war was already become wearisome to all ; the enor- 
 mous expenses it had occasioned, and which it still exacted, were 
 viewed with disquietude and alarm. The late reverses still increased 
 this universal discontent ; and with the diminution of the hope of 
 victory was strengthened in all the impatience for the return of peace. 
 The possibility of resuming the offensive upon the American conti- 
 nent, and of reestablishing there, by dint of arms, the sovereignty of 
 
408 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIII. 
 
 Great Britain was now considered as a chimera. The secret machi- 
 nations in order to divide the people of America, the terror and 
 barbarity of the Indians, the attempts of treason, the destruction of 
 commerce, the falsification of bills of credit, odious means to which 
 the British ministers had resorted, and even the victories of their 
 generals, all had failed of wresting from the Americans the smallest 
 indication of a disposition to resume their ancient yoke. If such had 
 been their constancy, when their ship, battered by the tempests, seem- 
 ed hastening to the bottom, how could it be hoped to see them bend, 
 while the most propitious gales were conducting them into the wished 
 for port ? It was selfevident that henceforth the war of America 
 could have no other object but that of obtaining the most honorable 
 conditions possible, after having acknowledged independence. On 
 the other hand, the immense losses sustained in the West Indies, 
 gave occasion to fear lest they might be followed by others still more 
 afflicting. The most anxious apprehensions were entertained for 
 Jamaica, against which the House of Bourbon seemed ready to dis- 
 play the entire apparatus of its power. The fall of a place of such 
 importance as Fort St. Philip, and the loss of the whole island of 
 Minorca, inspired doubts for Gibraltar itself. 
 
 The people, always the same every where, imputed these disas- 
 ters, not to the contrariety of fortune, but to the incapacity of minis- 
 ters. Their adversaries, both within parliament and without, raised 
 the most violent clamors. They exclaimed, that such were the fore- 
 seen results of ministerial infatuation and obstinacy. They demanded 
 with vociferation the immediate dismission of these perverse and 
 imbecile servants of the crown; they affirmed, that it was urgent to 
 prevent those who had brought the country to the brink of a preci- 
 pice, from plunging it headlong down it by the last frantic shock ; 
 that there was no chance of safety but in removing instantly those 
 senseless instigators of a fatal war. These cries of hatred coincided 
 with the prevailing spirit ; they were echoed with unanimity by the 
 discontented multitude. Besides, it escaped no one that since the 
 course of things had created the necessity of entering into negotia- 
 tion with the Americans, and of acknowledging their independence, 
 it was not suitable that those who had at first so highly exasperated 
 them by their laws, and afterwards had imbittered them to the utmost 
 by a barbarous war, should undertake to treat with them. The work 
 of a durable pacification appeared little proper to be confided to 
 hands which had fanned the fire of war. Already general Conway, 
 by a very eloquent speech, pronounced the twenty-second of Febru- 
 ary, in the house of commons, had moved and obtained that his 
 majesty should be entreated to command his ministers not to persist 
 any longer in the attempt to reduce the colonies to obedience by 
 means of force, and by continuing the war upon the American con- 
 tinent. He did more ; in the sitting of the fourth of March, he 
 
BOOK XIII. THE AMERICAN WAR. 409 
 
 proposed and carried a resolution, purporting that those who should 
 advise the king to continue the war upon the continent of North 
 America, should be declared enemies of the sovereign and of the 
 country. From this moment, the leading members of the privy 
 council, the centre and source of all great deliberations, perceived 
 that it was full time to resort to the usual remedy of a change of 
 ministry. The general attention was excited to the highest degree. 
 At length, the twentieth of March, the earl of Surrey having moved 
 in the house of commons that the king should be supplicated to 
 change his ministers, lord North rose, and declared with dignity that 
 it was superfluous to spend any more time upon this subject, since it 
 had already occupied the attention of his majesty, who would shortly 
 make known his new choice. ' Before I take leave of this House,' 
 added lord North, ' I feel it a duty to return it thanks for the support 
 and favor it has afforded rne during so long a course of years, and in 
 so many trying situations. It will be easy to give rne a successor, 
 endowed with a greater capacity, of better judgment, and more quali- 
 fied for his situation ; but it will not be equally so to find a man more 
 zealous for the interests of the country, more loyal to the sovereign, 
 and more attached to the constitution. I hope the new servants of 
 the crown, whoever they may be, will take such measures as shall 
 effectually extricate the country from its present difficulties, and 
 retrieve its fortune at home and abroad. I should declare, in retiring, 
 that I arn ready to answer to my country for all the acts of my ad- 
 ministration. If it is wished to undertake the investigation of my 
 conduct, I offer myself to undergo it.' 
 
 The new ministers were selected from among those members of 
 the two houses of parliament, who had shown themselves the most 
 favorable to the pretensions of the Americans. The marquis of 
 Rockingham was appointed first lord of the treasury ; the earl of 
 Shelburne and Mr. Fox secretaries of state ; lord John Cavendish 
 chancellor of the exchequer. Admiral Keppel was at the same 
 time created viscount and first lord of the admiralty. So great was 
 the exultation caused by this event, particularly in the city of Lon- 
 don, that it was feared the people of that capital, would, according 
 to their custom, break out into some blameable excesses. Every- 
 body felt assured that the end of the war was at hand, and that of 
 all the calamities it had caused. AH that was desired was, that the 
 conditions of peace might be honorable. Accordingly, the partisans 
 of the new ministers were earnest in their prayers that some favora- 
 ble event might gloriously repair the checks which the British arms 
 had received towards the close of the past, and in the commence- 
 ment of the present year. 
 
 END OF BOOK THIRTEENTH. 
 
410 THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 BOOK XIV, 
 
 BOOK FOURTEENTH. 
 
 1782. THE belligerent powers, in order to execute the plans 
 they had formed in the beginning of the present year, only waited 
 the completion of their preparations, the return of spring, and the 
 fitness of occasion. Alike weary of a long war, all had the same 
 persuasion that this campaign was to be decisive. Nor were they 
 ignorant that it is at the moment of peace that reverses have the 
 most fatal consequences, as there no longer remains either time or 
 hope for retrieving them. Under these considerations, each of the 
 powers at war redoubled vigilance and efforts, in order to secure the 
 definitive triumph of its arms. The allied courts directed their 
 views especially upon the domination of the European seas, the 
 reduction of Gibraltar, and the conquest of Jamaica. The French 
 were in the highest degree solicitous to transmit succours to their 
 establishments in the East Indies, where, notwithstanding the valor 
 and distinguished ability displayed by M. de Suffren, in several hard 
 fought engagements with admiral Hughes, their affairs were in a 
 state of declension ; and already two Dutch places of great import- 
 ance, Trincornale and Negapatam, were fallen into the power of the 
 English. The attention of the allies had therefore two principal 
 objects ; to defend their own possessions, and to seize those of the 
 enemy. 
 
 It was agreed, that the Dutch and Spanish fleets should effect their 
 junction with the French in the port of Brest. This mighty armada 
 was afterwards to scour the open sea. and clear it of all hostile force 
 from the straits of Gibraltar to the coasts of Norway. It was intend- 
 ed that the ships of the line should blockade the squadrons of the 
 enemy in all the channels and ports, while the frigates and other 
 light vessels should intercept the convoys ; and utterly ruin the com- 
 merce of the English. The views of the allies extended yet farther ; 
 they hoped by incessantly spreading new alarms upon the coasts of 
 Great Britain, that some opportunity might present itself for making 
 descents, ravaging the country, and even for striking still more 
 important blows, according to circumstances. They proceeded with 
 the greatest zeal to the execution of their designs ; the junction of 
 their armaments was to present a powerful mass of sixty sail of the 
 line, besides a prodigious number of frigates and sloops of war. The 
 English were very far from possessing means sufficient to withstand 
 so formidable a display of forces. Accordingly, the allied courts 
 entertained not the least doubt but that their arms would be as suc- 
 cessful in the West Indies and Europe, in this year's campaign, as 
 they had been in the last upon the American continent. A glorious 
 peace must, they felt assured, inevitably result from these decisive 
 successes. 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 411 
 
 On the other hand, the new members of the British cabinet 
 neglected nothing that could tend to remedy the calamitous state of 
 affairs, and enable them to resist with effect the storm that rumbled 
 over their heads. They hoped to compensate the inequality of force 
 by the skill of commanders, the courage of troops, and the success 
 of projected expeditions. Their cares were directed to the equip- 
 ment of the fleet and the lading of the convoy destined to revictual 
 Gibraltar. After the security of the kingdom, there was nothing 
 which they had so much at heart as the safety of that place. But 
 they were sensible that, first of all, it was necessary to prevent the 
 junction of the Spanish and Dutch squadrons with the French fleet ; 
 thus interrupting also, at the same time, the commerce of the Dutch 
 in the Baltic, and protecting that of England against their insults. 
 
 Admiral Howe was therefore ordered to put to sea from Ports- 
 mouth with twelve sail of the line, and to establish his cruise upon 
 the coasts of Holland. This measure had the desired effect. The 
 Dutch squadron, which had already set sail from the Texel, aban- 
 doned the sea to the English, and made the best of its way back 
 into port. After having cruised off the Dutch coasts for the term of 
 a month, admiral Howe, finding that the enemy made no movement 
 demonstrative of a disposition to put to sea again, and the unhealthi- 
 ness of the season having occasioned' much sickness on board his 
 fleet, took the determination to return to Portsmouth. Admiral 
 Milbanke relieved him almost immediately. If he was not able to 
 annoy the Dutch trade in the Baltic, he at least effectually protected 
 that of the English ; and, moreover, he constantly interdicted to the 
 enemy's squadron the entrance of the channel. Thus, with the 
 exception of the brilliant action of Doggers Bank, the republic of 
 Holland, formerly so famous, did nothing in all this war that was 
 worthy of her, and of her ancient renown. Such was the decay of 
 her glory and of her power, the deplorable result of excessive riches, 
 of insatiable avidity, and perhaps still more, of the party spirit which 
 rent those provinces. If in a republic the counterpoise of parties, 
 in matters relating to internal administration, may sometimes turn to 
 the advantage of liberty, and maintain more energy in the people, 
 those factions which have foreign powers for object, produce an 
 entirely opposite effect. They divert the public spirit upon that 
 which is abroad, and paralyse all its activity at home. The most 
 evident symptom of the decay of the strength of a state, and of the 
 loss of its independence, is, doubtless, a division between citizens in 
 favor of foreigners ; and such was the situation of the Dutch at this 
 epoch. If at the conclusion of the present war, their republic was 
 not reduced to the last degree of depression, if it even repaired a 
 great part of its losses, this it owed, not to its own force, but entirely 
 to the arms and protection of France. 
 
412 THE AMERICAN VVAIl. BOOK XIV, 
 
 We resume the course of events ; undoubted intelligence had 
 been received in England that a considerable convoy of troops and 
 military stores destined for India, was on the point of sailing from 
 the port of Brest. Fearing, on the one hand, for Jamaica, and on 
 the other, for the establishments of the coast of Malabar, the minis- 
 ters, without any delay, despatched admiral Barrington, at the head 
 of twelve sail of th,e line, with orders to watch this convoy, and to 
 capture it, if the opportunity should offer itself. He shaped his 
 course for the bay of Biscay, and soon discovered the convoy, which 
 consisted of eighteen transports, under the guard of two ships of the 
 line, the Pegase and the Protectcur. The wind was violent and 
 the sea tempestuous. The English nevertheless continued to crowd 
 sail. The ship Foudroyant, an excellent sailer, commanded by 
 captain Jarvis, at length came up with and engaged the Pegase, 
 under the chevalier de Sillan. The forces of the two ships being 
 about equal, the action lasted with extreme violence for a full hour. 
 The Frenchman did not strike till after having seen the greater part 
 of his men either killed or disabled. The sea was so rough that 
 captain Jarvis was scarcely able to shift a small part of the crew of 
 the prize. It was to be feared that the small number of men he sent 
 aboard of it might be risen upon, and the ship rescued. But captain 
 Mailland, who commanded the Queen, came up at this moment and 
 assisted his companion to secure his prize. Immediately alter, they 
 were again separated by a gust of wind. Captain Maitland after- 
 wards fell in with another French ship called the Actiohnaire, and 
 captured her, after a feeble resistance. In the meantime, the frigates 
 had given chase to the transports, which, at the first appearance of 
 the English, had obeyed a signal for dispersing with all celerity. 
 Twelve fell into the power of the enemy. This was a sensible loss 
 to France ; for independent of the artillery, munitions of war, and 
 provision, there were on board these vessels upwards of eleven hun- 
 dred regular troops. Admiral Barrington brought his prizes safely 
 into the ports of England. 
 
 The British admiralty having realised the utility of cruises in the 
 seas of Europe, resolved to multiply them. It adopted this deter- 
 mination the more willingly, as it had not yet received any intima- 
 tion of the approaching appearance of the grand combined fleet. 
 Notwithstanding the ardent desire which animated alike the French 
 and the Spaniards, to depress the power of their implacable enemy, 
 their operations suffered too often from that slowness which seems 
 inseparable from all coalitions. The English, on the contrary, 
 enjoyed the advantages attached to the unity of powers, and to the 
 concert of movements. As soon as Barrington was returned, Kem- 
 perifeldt had orders to put to sea, and stand in like manner towards 
 the bay of Biscay. His instructions were, to do the French com- 
 merce all the harm possible, to protect that of the British, and espe- 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 413 
 
 cially to cover the arrival of two rich convoys shortly expected, the 
 one from Jamaica, the other from Canada. 
 
 After having wasted much precious time, the allies had set them- 
 selves at length to carry into effect the plans they had meditated. 
 The count de Guichen commanding the French squadron, and don 
 Lewis cle Cordova admiral in chief of the combined fleet, set sail 
 from the port of Cadiz in the beginning of June with twenty-five sail 
 of the line, between Spanish and French. They stood to the north, 
 towards the shores of England, animated with a desire and with a 
 hope to wrest from those audacious islanders the empire of the 
 ocean. As they sailed along the consts of France, they were joined 
 by several ships of war, which lay in the ports of that part, and even 
 by a squadron that came from Brest to meet them. These different 
 reenforcements carried the combined fleet to forty sail of the line. 
 Fortune smiled upon these first operations. The two convoys of 
 Newfoundland and Quebec, escorted by admiral Campbell with one 
 ship of fifty guns and some frigates, fell into the rnidst of this im- 
 mense line. A part were taken, the rest dispersed. Eighteen 
 transports came into the power of the victors ; this capture was 
 valued at considerable sums. The ships of war made good their 
 escape, and gained the ports of England in safety. This advantage 
 indemnified the French, in some measure, for the loss of their convoy 
 destined to the East Indies. 
 
 After this, if not difficult, at least useful success, become entirely 
 masters of the sea, they repaired towards the entrance of the channel. 
 As they had done in their preceding campaigns, they stretched their 
 line across it from the Scilly islands to that of Ushant. While observ- 
 ing the coasts of England, two objects especially occupied their 
 attention ; the protection of their own convoys, and the seizure of 
 those of the enemy. Meanwhile, the British ministers were not 
 reckless of the danger. Admiral Howe put to sea with twenty-two 
 sail of the line. His instructions enjoined him to avoid a general 
 action, and to use every possible endeavor to protect the arrival of 
 the Jamaica convoy, become still more precious since the loss of that 
 of Canada. This able commander displayed the rarest talents in 
 the execution of his orders. He put himself out of the reach of the 
 hostile fleet, by steering to the west, upon the route likely to be 
 taken by the convoy. This manoeuvre was crowned with full success. 
 Admiral Howe rallied to himself the whole convoy, with its escort, 
 commanded by Peter Parker, and, towards the last of July, entered 
 with them sound and safe into the ports of Ireland. The allies then 
 returned to their own coasts, after demonstrations as vain and fruit- 
 less as those of their two preceding campaigns. 
 
 But of all the enterprises of the belligerent powers in Europe, 
 none appeared to them more worthy to absorb all their attention than 
 the siege of Gibraltar. The English were all intent upon succouring 
 VOL. ii. 53 
 
414 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 that fortress ; the French and Spaniards upon preventing it. These 
 two opposite aims were become the object of their reciprocal emula- 
 tion. Independent of the glory of their arms, and the honor of 
 crowns, there was nothing less at stake than the empire of the Medi- 
 terranean, which seemed to depend on the possession of this cele- 
 brated rock. Never did any military operation attract, to the same 
 degree, the gaze of the entire world ; this siege was compared to the 
 most famous recorded in history, whether ancient or modern. To 
 preserve Gibraltar, was in England the first wish of all minds ; it was 
 known there that a scarcity began to prevail, within that place, of 
 munitions of war, and especially of provisions. It was equally known 
 that the besiegers intended to convert the blockade into an open 
 attack. Already they were preparing machines of a new construc- 
 tion, in order to carry, by dint of force, what they had failed of 
 attaining by famine. Accordingly, since Gibraltar, notwithstanding 
 all that art and nature had done for its defence, was menaced with 
 perils of a new species, the British government assembled at Ports- 
 mouth all the naval forces of the kingdom. The squadrons that 
 were cruising upon the coasts of Holland and of the Bay of Biscay, 
 had orders to repair thither. An immense number of transports 
 were there laden with munitions and necessaries of every denomina- 
 tion. At length, all preparations being terminated, towards the 
 beginning of September, admiral Howe, cornmander-in-chief, accom- 
 panied by the admirals Milbanke, Robert Hughes, and Hotharn, set 
 sail from Portsmouth. His force consisted of thirty-four sail of the 
 line, and a proportionate number of frigates and fire-ships. Upon 
 the fortune of this armament hung that of the besieged fortress. 
 
 Arms were not, however,' the only means which the British 
 ministers resolved to employ in order to attain the object they had in 
 view ; namely, a glorious war and an honorable peace. It was not 
 permitted them to hope to be able to reduce their enemies entirely, 
 so long as they persisted in their strict union ; they therefore formed 
 a design to throw division among them, by making to each of them 
 separate proposals of peace. The dissolution of the coalition 
 appeared to them the certain pledge of definitive triumph. They 
 calculated also, that even in case they should not succeed in their 
 attempt, they would nevertheless obtain a real advantage ; that of 
 contenting the minds of the people of Great Britain, and of rendering 
 the war less odious to them, by demonstrating the necessity of con- 
 tinuing it. Another no less powerful consideration had influence 
 upon their determination ; they felt, that in order to preserve the 
 partisans they had made themselves both in and out of parliament, it 
 was necessary that they should hold out at least an appearance of 
 inclining towards peace. Under these considerations, the British 
 cabinet made application to the empress of Russia. She accepted 
 the character of rnediatress with the Stales-General of Holland ; she 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 415 
 
 offered them, in the name of king George, a suspension of arms, and 
 conditions of peace upon the footing of the treaty of 1674. The 
 ambassador of France, who was then at the Hague, watched these 
 secret manoeuvres, and labored with all his power to prevent the 
 effects of them, and to maintain the States-General in their fidelity to 
 the alliance. He reminded them that they were pledged not to make 
 peace with England until that power should have acknowledged the 
 unrestricted freedom of the seas. While recapitulating the plans of 
 naval operations concerted between the two states against the common 
 enemy, fie intimated that Holland could not renounce them all of a 
 sudden, without as much prejudice to her own honor, as to the 
 interests of her faithful ally, the king of France. He glanced also 
 at the gratitude by which the Dutch were bound to his most Christian 
 majesty for the preservation of the Cape of Good Hope, and the 
 recovery of St. Eustatius, as well as the colonies of Guiana, owing 
 entirely to his arms. In support of the representations of the French 
 ambassador, the States-General could not but add a tacit reflection. 
 The colonies above mentioned were still in the hands of the French, 
 as guarantee of treaties ; was it not to be feared that they would 
 refuse to restore them, if their allies departed from their engage- 
 ments ? These considerations were backed also by the efforts of the 
 partisans of France. They at length prevailed totally. The States- 
 General rejected the propositions of the court of London, declaring 
 that they would not disparage the incorruptible faith of which their 
 ancestors had left them the example. The overtures that were 
 made at the same time to the governments of France and of Spain, 
 were not attended with any better success. The first entertained 
 hopes of expelling the British altogether from the West Indies, and 
 thereby of acquiring more efficacious rights to stipulate for the liberty 
 of the seas. The second, swayed by the same motives, had, besides, 
 the prospect of recovering possession of Jamaica and Gibraltar. In- 
 timately united also by the family compact, the two monarchs would 
 have thought it derogatory to the dignity of their crowns, not to have 
 fulfilled the obligations it imposed. 
 
 But the British ministers hoped for more fruit from their intrigues 
 with the United States of America. With a view to this object, they 
 had recalled General Clinton, and replaced him by general Carleton, 
 who, by his moderation and humanity during the war of Canada, had 
 conciliated the esteem and confidence of the Americans. He was 
 invested, as well as admiral Digby, with power to negotiate peace 
 with the United States, upon the basis of independence, and to con- 
 clude with them a treaty of amity and commerce. 
 
 But the Americans took into consideration, that no act of the par- 
 liament had as yet authorised the king to conclude peace or truce 
 with America ; and consequently it was to be apprehended that, pro- 
 posals and promises made at the mere motion of ministers, might 
 
416 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 afterwards be disavowed by the two Houses. They were aware also 
 of the extreme repugnance which the king personally had to acknow- 
 ledge their independence. They began therefore to suspect the 
 existence of a hidden snare. These conjectures acquired new force 
 with them, on hearing that the British cabinet had made separate 
 overtures to each of the belligerent powers. They no longer doubted 
 but that its drift was, by means of these overtures, to sow division 
 among them, and to amuse them by vain words. The proposition of 
 peace appeared to them a mere stratagem of the English to divert 
 their attention from the preparations requisite to the prosecution of 
 the war, and thereby secure for themselves easy advantages. The 
 French minister at Philadelphia exerted himself to the utmost to 
 interrupt all negotiations. He placed in the strongest light the 
 grounds which the Americans had for apprehending bad faith on the 
 part of England, and for confiding, on the contrary, in the sincerity 
 and generosity of the king of France. The most influential members 
 of the American government were little disposed of themselves to 
 commence their career in the political world by a violation of treaties, 
 and to exchange an approved alliance for a suspicious friendship ; 
 their opinion prevailed. The Congress declared formally, that they 
 would enter into no negotiation wherein their ally should not par- 
 ticipate. 
 
 Moreover, that not the slightest doubt should remain ^respecting 
 the good faith of the United States, in order to bar all hope to Eng- 
 land, and all suspicion to France, the provincial assemblies decreed, 
 that peace should never be concluded with Great Britain without 
 the consent of his most Christian majesty ; declaring enemies to the 
 country all those who should attempt to negotiate without authority 
 from Congress. Thus the first days of the year witnessed the 
 failure of all hope of pacification. The cause for which the bellige- 
 rent powers had taken arms, appeared still undecided. In the rnidst 
 of that reciprocal distrust which imbittered minds, no form of conci- 
 liation was admissible, till ushered in by the last necessity. While 
 such was the posture of affairs upon the American continent, they 
 were about to be decided, in the islands, by one of those events 
 which triumph over all the measures of prudence. The war of the 
 West Indies was destined to have an issue similar to that which the 
 catastrophe of Cornwallis bad operated in Virginia. The allied 
 courts had made formidable preparations for executing at last their 
 long meditated projects against Jamaica. The Spaniards had in the 
 islands of St. Domingo and Cuba, a numerous fleet, and a considera- 
 ble body of troops, both perfectly equipped, and in readiness to move 
 wherever the good of the service might require. On the other hand, 
 the count de Grasse was at Fort Royal in Martinico, with thirty-four 
 sail of the line, and a great number of frigates. The French admi- 
 ral was occupied with the care of refitting his fleet, while awaiting 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 417 
 
 a second convoy which departed from Brest early in February, and 
 which brought him an immense quantity of arms and military stores, 
 of which he stood in great need. After having terminated his prepa- 
 rations, his intention was, to effect his junction with the Spaniards at 
 St. Domingo, in order to act in concert against Jamaica. Their 
 combined forces were to consist of sixty sail of the line, and near 
 twenty thousand land troops ; a prodigious armament, and such as 
 had never before been seen in those seas. The English were very 
 far from - having means of resistance adequate to those of attack, 
 When Rodney, who was then anchored at Barbs does, had been 
 joined by admiral Hood, and three ships of the line fiom England, he 
 found himself at the head of no more than thirty-six sail of the line. 
 The garrisons of the British islands were all very weak ; and even in 
 Jamaica there were only six battalions of troops, inclusive of militia. 
 The terror was so great there, that the governor of the island pro- 
 claimed martial law, the effect of which was to suspend all civil 
 authority, and to confer it entire upon the military commanders. 
 
 Admiral Rodney was perfectly aware that the success of the West 
 Indian war, and the fate of all the British possessions in those seas 
 depended on two decisive events. It was necessary to intercept the 
 Brest convoy before it should arrive at Martinico, and to prevent the 
 French fleet from uniting with that of Spain at St. Domingo. In 
 order to accomplish the first of these objects, he had put to sea, and 
 so stationed his fleet to windward of the French islands, that it 
 extended from the island of Desirade to that of St. Vincents ; thus 
 occupying the route usually followed by vessels coming from Europe 
 bound to Martinico. He had also taken the precaution to detach 
 his frigates still more to windward, that they might observe and 
 promptly report to him all the movements of the enemy. But the 
 French presaged the snare that was laid for them. Instead of taking 
 the ordinary track, they stood with their convoy to the north of 
 Desirade, and then keeping close under the lee of Guadeloupe and 
 Dominica, brought it in safety to the bay of Fort Royal in Maninico. 
 This reenforcement was most opportune for the French. It was, on 
 the contrary, extremely fatal for the English, who had now no other 
 means of averting their total ruin in those parts, but by preventing 
 the junction of the fleets of France and Spain at St. Domingo. 
 With this object in view, Rodney came to anchor in Gros Islet Bay 
 at St. Lucia, in order to be able to watch continually all that passed 
 at Fort Royal. His frigates kept up a very active cruise ; and in 
 the meantime he took care to recruit his water and provisions, in 
 order to be in a situation to keep the sea as long as possible. Mean- 
 while, the count de Grasse felt himself pressed to act. His instruc- 
 tions required it of him ; and their object was of the last importance 
 to the glory and prosperity of the French realm. On the safety of 
 his convoy depended the success of the expedition of Jamaica. He 
 
418 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 sent it forward under the escort of two ships of the line, the Sagit- 
 taire and Experiment, and followed it shortly after with all his fleet. 
 He would have wished to avail himself of the trade winds to sail 
 directly towards St. Domingo ; but he reflected that in so doing, 
 incurnbered as he was with upwards of an hundred transports, and 
 the wind always blowing from the same point, it was almost impossi- 
 ble for him to keep out of the reach of the British fleet. It was 
 evidently in the interests of his designs to avoid a battle ; he there- 
 fore took a different route. He shaped his course to the northward, 
 standing along near the shores of the islands with all his vast arma- 
 ment. Prudence could not but applaud this measure, and every 
 thing promised its success. The pilots of the count de Grasse had 
 the advantage over those of the enemy of being better acquainted 
 with the bearings of these coasts, for the most part French or Span- 
 ish ; and they might of course approach them as near as they should 
 think proper. Besides,- the different channels formed between these 
 islands, offered both secure retreats and favorable winds for escaping 
 the pursuit of the enemy. The French admiral might thus pass his 
 convoy along the coasts, while his ships of war should form in order 
 of battle to cover it against the attempts of his adversary. It was 
 easy for the French by this means to keep to windward of the 
 British, and consequently to preserve a free passage to St. Domingo. 
 The count de Grasse had therefore sufficient grounds for 'hoping that 
 all the vessels under his command would, by little and little, make 
 their way good to the point of general rendezvous. The British 
 frigates, which kept a diligent watch, soon apprised Rodney of the sail- 
 ing of the French fleet. Immediately, with his accustomed prompti- 
 tude, he put to sea in quest of the enemy. It was the ninth of April. 
 Already the French had began to pass Dominica, and were to lee- 
 ward of that island when they descried the whole British fleet. The 
 count de Grasse ordered- the captains of the transports to crowd all 
 sail and take shelter in the port of Guadaloupe. The two admirals 
 prepared themselves for battle with equal skill and bravery. The 
 Frenchman, however, chose to keep his enemy at a distance, in 
 order to give his convoy time to retire, and not to commit to the 
 caprice of fortune a certain operation. The Englishman, on the 
 contrary, felt that he could not engage his adversary too close, since 
 there was no remedy for the critical situation of affairs except in a 
 complete and decisive victory. The count de Grasse had thirty- 
 three sail of the line ; among which, one of one hundred and ten 
 guns, the Ville de Paris, five of eighty, twenty-one of seventy-four, 
 arid the rest of sixty-four. The crews were complete, and there 
 were on board the French fleet five to six thousand land troops, 
 forming the garrison of the ships. The centre was under the imme- 
 diate orders of the count de Grasse ; the marquis de Vaudreuil 
 commanded the van, and M. de Bougainville the rear. The fleet 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 419 
 
 of admiral Rodney consisted of thirty-six sail of the line, of which 
 one of ninety-eight guns, five of ninety, twenty of seventy-four, and 
 the others of sixty-four. The British van was commanded by vice- 
 admiral Hood, and the rear guard by rear-admiral Drake. The 
 English were desirous to engage a general action, but they had not 
 yet been able to get abreast of the island of Dominica, and their 
 advance was retarded by calms. They endeavored nevertheless to 
 profit of the puffs of wind which sprung up from time to time, in 
 order to fetch the French. But the latter, favored by a breeze, 
 made for Guadeloupe. The van of the British fleet receiving the 
 wind soon after, admiral Hood seized the occasion to come up with 
 the French within cannon-shot reach, and the action commenced 
 towards nine o'clock in the morning. The count de Grasse was full 
 of confidence at seeing that he could bring all his force to bear upon 
 a part only of the enemy's. 
 
 The engagement was extremely fierce ; but however impetuous 
 was the attack of the French, the British withstood it without losing 
 their order. The headmost ships of their centre having at length a 
 sufficiency of wind to carry them to the support of their van, which 
 suffered excessively, they renewed the action with inexpressible fury. 
 The French received their shock with a valor no less worthy of 
 admiration. Rodney's own ship, the Formidable, of ninety-eight 
 guns, and his two seconds, the Namur and the Duke, both of ninety, 
 made a tremendous fire. The captain of a French seventy-four, so 
 far from being dismayed at it, ordered his mainsail to be furled, that 
 his crew might abandon all idea of retreat, and fight with the more 
 desperation. He waited the approach of the three British ships, 
 and engaged them with admirable intrepidity. His conduct inspired 
 the English themselves with so much enthusiasm, that one of them, 
 in a letter which was made public, did not hesitate to call him the 
 godlike Frenchman. The other ships of the British centre came up 
 -successively, and the rear, under admiral Drake, was not far behind 
 them. But the French admiral, who had accomplished his purpose, 
 thought proper to draw his ships out of action, and accordingly gave 
 the signal for retreat. Such was the issue of this first combat ; it 
 would be difficult to decide on which part the most ability and 
 gallantry were signalised. The English made no attempt to follow 
 their enemies, whether because the wind was less in their favor, or 
 because their van, and especially the Royal Oak and the Montague, 
 had been grievously damaged. On observing this, the French admi- 
 ral ordered the convoy, which had taken refuge at Guadaloupe, to 
 put to sea again immediately, and continue its voyage. This order 
 was executed with as much precision as promptitude by M. de 
 Lanjjle, who commanded the convoy ; which a few days after 
 arrived safe and entire at St. Domingo. Some French ships had 
 suffered considerablv in the action. Amona; others, the Cato wa? 
 
420 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK Xl\ r . 
 
 so damaged, that it became necessary to send her to Guadaloupe to 
 be repaired. The Jason also had been so shattered in her engage- 
 ment with the Zealous, that she was also obliged to make the best 
 of her way to the same island. These accidents prevented the 
 count de Grasse from gaining so soon as he could have wished to 
 windward of the grotipe of islands called the Saints, in order after- 
 wards to stand to windward of Desirade, and repair to St. Domingo 
 by the north of the islands. The English, after bavins; hastily refit- 
 led their ships, had again set themselves to pursue the French. The 
 count de Grasse continued to beat to windward, in order to weather 
 the Saints, and he was already arrived, on the eleventh, off Guada- 
 loupe. He had gained so much distance upon the British fleet, that 
 its topsails only could be descried, and that with difficulty, by the 
 French. Rodney had pushed his pursuit with all the diligence 
 exacted by the urgency of the conjuncture ; but he began to despair 
 of overtaking the enemy. It was agitated in a council of war, 
 whether it would not be better for the interests of their affairs to give 
 over the direct pursuit of the enemy, and stand to leeward, in order 
 to arrive, if possible, before them in the waters of St. Domingo. 
 While this important point was under deliberation, and while an 
 anxious lookout was kept at the mastheads, in painful expectation 
 of the moment which was to decide the fate of Jamaica, and whether 
 the empire of the West Indies was to remain with the 'French or 
 with the English, a signal announced, about noon, the appearance of 
 two French ships. They had fallen to the leeward, and were drift- 
 ing continually nearer to the English. They were the Zele, of 
 seventy-four guns, a ship which seemed destined to bring disaster to 
 the French fleet, and the frigate Astree, which the count de Grasse 
 had detached to take her in tow. A little before, the Zele had got 
 foul of the Ville de Paris, and lost her foremast and mizenmast in 
 the shock. In consequence of this accident she was unable to keep 
 up with the rest of the fleet. The English now conceived new 
 hopes of engaging the battle for which they so ardently panted. 
 They calculated that by bearing down rapidly to cut ofF the drifted 
 ships, they should constrain the French admiral to come to their 
 succour, and thereby place himself under the necessity of fighting. 
 They accordingly manoeuvred with so much promptitude and sagaci- 
 ty, that the two ships could no longer escape them, unless the French 
 admiral bore down with his whole fleet for their preservation. It is 
 thought, and not without reason, that if the count de Grasse, content 
 with the glory acquired upon the coasts of Virginia, had known how 
 to yield in time to fortune, and had abandoned the two fatal ships to 
 the destiny that menaced them, he might easily have made his way 
 good to St. Domingo. Once arrived in that island, where the forces 
 oi Spain would have joined his own, he might have given the final 
 blow to the British power in the West Indies. He had already 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 421 
 
 gained so far to windward, that if he had continued his voyage it 
 was become impossible for the English to come up with him. But 
 deeming it contrary to the dignity and reputation of the mighty arma- 
 ment which he commanded, to suffer two ships to be taken almost 
 under the fire of its guns, he took the brave but no less adventurous 
 resolution of going to their succour; thus, for the sake of protecting 
 an inconsiderable part of his fleet, exposing himself to the hazard of 
 losing the whole. He formed his line of battle, bore down upon the 
 English, and rescued the Zele. But this movement had brought 
 him so near to the enemy, that it was no longer in his power to 
 avoid an engagement. The two admirals prepared for it with equal 
 ardor. The same high spirit was shared by all their crews; there 
 was not a sailor of the two nations who did not feel that he was 
 about to contend for the honor of his sovereign, and the dominion of 
 the West Indies. But the night was already corne ; it was employed 
 on either side in making every preparation for the great day of the 
 morrow. 
 
 The space of sea which was to serve as the field of battle, is con- 
 tained between the islands of Guadaloupe, Dominica, the Saints, and 
 Maria Galante. Both to windward and leeward, the waters abound 
 in shoals and very dangerous reefs. The twelfth of April, at six in 
 the morning, the two fleets found themselves drawn up in presence 
 of each other, but on opposite tacks. The wind at this moment 
 having veered from east to southeast, became more favorable to the 
 English. They profited of it without loss of time ; their van and 
 the greater part of their centre ranged up to within half cannon-shot 
 of the enemy, and commenced the attack with unexampled fury. 
 The action lasted from seven in the morning till seven at night. 
 The other ships of the centre, and the greater part of those of the 
 rear, edged up successively, and took part in the battle. Among 
 tliern was distinguished the Barfleur, of ninety guns, the ship of ad- 
 miral Hood. During this time the Zele, towed by the Astree, was 
 endeavoring to gain Guadaloupe. 
 
 Never did warriors the most inflamed with c!esire of victory, dis- 
 play more desperate valor or determined resolutio l than the French 
 and English in this memorable day. The broadsides, from their rapid 
 succession, appeared continual ; through the thick srnoke that covered 
 the two fleets, nothing was seen but the blaze of their guns, nothing 
 was heard but the thunder of artillery, and the crash of the spars 
 that were shivered into splinters. The Formidable, admiral Rod- 
 ney's ship, discharged in the course of this terrible conflict no less 
 than eighty broadsides ; the Ville de Paris an equal number. The 
 fight continued for several hours without any apparent superiority of 
 success ; almost all the ships were excessively shattered ; the crews 
 were exhausted with fatigue. From the very commencement of the 
 action the English, according to their custom, had endeavored to 
 VOL. u. 54 
 
422 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV, 
 
 break the enemy's line of battle. But the wind was not strong 
 enough ; and the French perceiving; their design, held firm and 
 repulsed them with vigor. Meanwhile, the van and centre of the 
 count de Grasse had suffered extremely in their rigging, which occa- 
 sioned a sensible retardment in the movements of these two divisions. 
 The third, commanded by M. de Bougainville, not having regulated 
 its manoeuvres by those of the rest of the line, had fallen irjto ex- 
 treme disorder. To this fatal event, which could only be imputed 
 to men, there soon succeeded another, originating in the contrariety 
 of fortune. The wind became all at once so unfavorable to the French, 
 that their sails rilled aback ; it was for the same reason extremely pro- 
 pitious to the English. Rodney took advantage of it instantly. Ho 
 bore rapidly down with the Formidable, the Narnur, the Duke and the 
 Canada, and penetrated through the French line at the post occupied 
 by the Glorieux, which was completely dismasted, at the distance of 
 three ships from the Ville de Paris. His other ships were directed 
 by signal to follow him. This order having been executed with great 
 promptitude, the whole British fleet found itself to windward of the 
 enemy's. From this moment the fate of the day could no longer be 
 doubtful. The English wore round close upon their adversaries, 
 who, broken and in total confusion, could ill withstand an enemy 
 fighting in compact line, and animated by the prospect of infallible 
 victory. The French protracted their resistance only by detached 
 groups, or partial engagements of ship with ship. Their desperate 
 situation, however, had not yet abated their courage. They endea- 
 vored to reestablish the line to leeward, but all their efforts were vain, 
 though they signally honored their misfortune. The English of pre- 
 ference closed with those ships which they judged unable to escape 
 them. The Canada engaged the Hector, which did not surrender 
 till after having exhausted all its means of defence. The Centaur 
 attacked the Cesar ; they had both remained entire. A furious action 
 ensued. The French captain would not surrender. Three other 
 ships of war assailed him ; but after his ship bad been battered to 
 pieces, and his ensign-staff shot away, M. de Marigny, who com- 
 manded the Cesar, ordered his colors to be nailed to the mast, and 
 redoubled the fire of all his batteries. He was slain ; his successor 
 defended himself with the same courage. At length his mainmast 
 being fallen, and all his tackling destroyed, he yielded to number. 
 The captain of the Glorieux did not surrender till after the most ho- 
 norable resistance. The Ardent, after a no less gallant defence, fell 
 also into the power of the English. The Diaderne, torn all to pieces, 
 went to the bottom. If all the French captains whom fortune be- 
 trayed on this day, displayed an heroic bravery, none of them 
 deserved more lasting praises than the unfortunate count de Grasse. 
 He seemed inflexibly resolved rather to sink with his ship, than to sur- 
 render her to the enemy. Totally dismasted, and admitting the water 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 423 
 
 on all parts, the Ville de Paris, after a combat of ten hours, continued 
 to keep up a terrible fire with starboard and larboard guns. Captain 
 Cornvvallis in the Canada, appeared to rest his glory upon reducing 
 her ; but by her very mass she repulsed all his efforts ; six other 
 British ships joined the Canada, to give the final blows to the French 
 admiral, but still in vain. Several of his ships had attempted to 
 succoujr him ; at first his two seconds the Languedoc arid Couronne, 
 then the Pluton and the Triumphant. But, overwhelmed by num- 
 ber, the captains of these ships had been constrained to abandon, 
 their captain-general to all the dangers of his position. The count 
 de Grasse found his last hope extinct ; his fleet, lately so flourishing, 
 was either dispersed or fallen into the power of the enemy, but his 
 invincible courage refused to bend. He persisted in this manner, 
 facing with the most admirable intrepidity the repeated attempts that 
 were made upon him from every quarter, till past six o'clock in the 
 afternoon. Admiral Hood's approach in the Barfleur of ninety 
 guns, did not alter his determination. He bore a heavy fire from 
 him during some time, without any appearance of yielding ; and it 
 was not till alter a dreadful destruction of his people that lie con- 
 sented at last to strike. He and two more were the only men left 
 standing upon the upper deck. Thus fell into the -hands of the 
 English the Ville de Paris, justly considered as one of the fairest 
 ornaments of the French marine. This magnificent ship had been 
 presented to Lewis XV. by his capital, at the epoch of the disasters 
 occasioned by the war of Canada. It had cost four millions of livres. 
 Thirty-six chests of money, and the whole train of artillery, intended 
 for the attack on Jamaica, became the prey of the victors. The 
 'English lost in this battle and in that of the ninth, upwards of a 
 thousand men. The loss of the French was much more consider- 
 able, without reckoning prisoners. The first had in particular to 
 regret the captains Bayne and Blair of the Alfred and Anson. Lord 
 Robert Manners, son of the marquis of Granby, a young man of the 
 greatest promise, survived his wounds but a short time. This day 
 cost life to six captains of French ships ; among whom were the 
 viscount d' Escars and M. de la Clocheterie ; the first of the Glorieux, 
 the second of the Hercule. 
 
 To reap the fruits of his victory, admiral Rodney would have 
 wished to pursue the enemy after the battle. But as it grew dark, he 
 thought it necessary, in order to secure his prizes, and to afford time 
 for inquiring into the condition of the ships that had suffered in the 
 action, to bring too for the night. The following morning he was 
 still detained upon the coasts of Guadaloupe by a calm, which lasted 
 three days. Having at length examined the bays and harbors of 
 the neighboring French islands, and being satisfied that the enemy 
 had sailed to leeward, Rodney despatched sir Samuel Hood, whose 
 division being in the rear, and coming up late, had suffered but little 
 
424 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK. XIV. 
 
 in the battle, to the west end of St. Domingo, in the hope that he 
 might be able to pick up some of their disabled ships. Hood was 
 afterwards to repair to Cape Tiberon, where admiral Rodney had 
 appointed to meet him with the rest of his fleet. 
 
 With the exception of some French ships, which M. de Bougainville 
 conducted to St. Eustatius to be repaired, all the others under the 
 marquis de Vaudreuil, keeping together in a body, made th%best of 
 their way to Cape Francois. In the meantime, admiral Hood had 
 arrived in the waters of St. Domingo, and while cruising in the 
 Mora passage, which separates that island from Porto Rico, he de- 
 scried four sail of French vessels, two of the line, and two of less 
 force. These were the Jason and Caton, which were returning from 
 the anchorage of Guadaloupe, with the frigate Aimable and the sloop 
 of war Ceres. Their captains were not informed of the action of 
 the twelfth of April, and were pursuing their voyage in full security. 
 They fell into the midst of the squadron of sir Samuel Hood, who 
 had little difficulty in forcing them to surrender. A fifth sail, which 
 was discovered in the distance, had the fortune to escape the pursuit 
 of the English, by an unexpected shift of wind in her favor. Thus 
 the French loss amounted to eight ships of the line ; but the Diademe 
 having been sunk, and the Cesar having blown up, there remained 
 but six in the possession of the English, as trophies of their victory. 
 
 Admiral Hood rejoined sir George Rodney off Cape Tiberon ; 
 the latter then proceeded with the disabled ships and the prizes to 
 Jamaica. The former remained, with twenty-five ships that had 
 suffered the least, in the waters of St. Domingo, to watch the enemy, 
 and prevent him from attempting any expedition of importance 
 against the British possessions. Though discouraged by the check 
 which they had just received, the allies were still formidable. They 
 had at Cape Francois twenty-three sail of the line, under the marquis 
 de Vaudreuil, and sixteen Spanish, commanded by don Solano. 
 Their land forces amounted to near twenty thousand men. They 
 relinquished, however, the enterprise of Jamaica, and indeed every 
 sort of attempt in the West Indies. The Spaniards returned to the 
 Havanna. Some French ships took under their guard a convoy of 
 merchantmen, and arrived in Europe without accident. The mar- 
 quis de Vaudreuil repaired with the rest of his fleet to the ports of 
 North America. . Thus ended the projects against Jamaica, and all 
 this campaign in the West Indies. It produced afterwards one only 
 event ; the Bahama Islands which had hitherto served as a shelter 
 for British privateers, surrendered the sixth of May to the Spanish 
 arms. The French obtained also another success in the most north- 
 ern regions of America ; a feeble compensation of their late losses. 
 The marquis de Vaudreuil, a little before his departure for the Uni- 
 ted States, had detached M. de la Peyrouse, with the ship of war 
 Sceptre, and the frigates Astree and Engageante. His instructions 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 425 
 
 were, to repair to Hudson's bay, and do all the harm possible to the 
 establishments of the British northwest company. The expedition 
 succeeded completely ; the English estimated the damage he caused 
 them at several millions of livres. It was much more remarkable 
 for the almost insurmountable obstacles which the nature of the places 
 and climate presented to the French, than for the resistance of their 
 enemipB, whom they surprised in full security and without defence. 
 The coasts were difficult and little known, and the shoals very dan- 
 gerous. Though it was only the last of July when the ships "of the 
 expedition arrived in Hudson's bay, yet the cold was already so 
 rigorous there, and the masses of floating ice so numerous that they 
 tvere very near being shut up for the winter in those bleak and dis"- 
 mul regions. 
 
 In the meantime, admiral Rodney had repaired to Jamaica ; he 
 had made a triumphal entry into the port of Kingston. The inhabit- 
 ants of the island crowded with eagerness to behold their deliverer, 
 and to enjoy the spectacle of the victorious and of the captured ships. 
 But no object more excited their curiosity, than the French admiral 
 himself, who, already become illustrious by great success in America, 
 and ready but now to fall upon their island at the head of the most 
 formidable armament, appeared there at present as a memorable 
 example of the caprices of fortune. The victory of Rodney and the 
 exultation of the colonists, did not however cause them to forget 
 what generosity exacted of them towards an unfortunate enemy. 
 They loaded him with all the attentions which they judged suitable 
 to console him. 
 
 Meanwhile, before the news of the victory of the twelfth of April 
 had reached England, admiral Pigot had been appointed to the com- 
 mand of the West India fleet, in the room of Rodney. The latter 
 obeyed without delay, and departed for Europe, after having em- 
 barked the count de Grasse in the homeward bound Jamaica convoy. 
 The odious pillage committed at St. Eustatius, had brought Rodney 
 into great discredit with the public. His conduct had been censured 
 with extreme asperity even in parliament. The complaints which 
 arose on al! parts against this admiral, might have contributed no less 
 to his recall than his attachment to the party in opposition to minis- 
 ters. But when arrived in England, he answered his accusers only 
 by showing them the count de Grasse prisoner. Immediately, the 
 infamous spoiler of St. Eustatius became the idol of the nation. 
 Those same individuals who had inveighed against him with the most 
 vehemence, showed themselves the most forward to load him with 
 panegyric in the same measure. 
 
 The count de Grasse encountered in England the most honorable 
 reception ; he owed it perhaps as much to ostentation as to politeness. 
 As soon as he was arrived at London he was presented to the king, 
 and waited on by all the great. The people assembled in throng 
 
420 THE AMERICAN WAR, BOOK XIV. 
 
 before the hotel where he lodged ; forced to appear at the balcony, the 
 multitude greeted him with loud acclamations, and applauses without 
 end. They called him the brave, the valiant Frenchman. Such is 
 the fascination of courage even in an enemy ! In the public places 
 where the count made his appearance, numerous crowds gathered 
 about him, not to insult him, but, on the contrary, to pay him homage. 
 The enthusiasm of the people of London seemed to redoublfb when 
 it was generally agreed to find him an English physiognomy. He 
 was obliged to consent to have his portrait painted ; copies of it 
 were profusely distributed throughout the country; and who- 
 ever was without it, exposed himself to be accounted a bad patriot. 
 Admiral Rodney was created an English peer, by the title of lord 
 Rodney. Hood was honored with an Irish peerage ; Drake and 
 Affleck with baronetages. 
 
 The grief which the news of the disaster of the twelfth of April 
 produced in France, was the more profound, as it immediately 
 succeeded the most sanguine hope. But the French, constant in 
 their gaiety, and intrepid by their nature, rapidly lose impressions of 
 sadness ; they soon resumed courage. The kjng was the first to give 
 the example of firmness; it was imitated by all France. In order 
 to repair the losses of his marine, the monarch ordered the immediate 
 construction of twelve ships of the line of one hundred and ten, 
 eighty, and seventy-four guns. The counts de Provence and d' Ar- 
 tois, his brothers, offered him each one of eighty ; the prince of 
 Conde one of one hundred and ten, in the name of the states of 
 Burgundy. The chamber of commerce, with the six corps of re- 
 tailers of the city of Paris, the merchants of Marseilles, of Bordeaux, 
 of Lyons, resolved with the same zeal to furnish to the state each a 
 ship of one hundred and ten guns. The receivers-general of the 
 revenue, the farmers-general, and other financial companies, offered 
 to advance considerable sums. All these offers were accepted, but 
 not those which patriotism had dictated to private citizens ; the king, 
 not willing to increase the burthens that already weighed upon his 
 people, ordered the sums which had been subscribed or advanced 
 by particulars, to be placed again at their disposal. Thus, the ardent 
 zeal which manifested itself in all parts towards the country and the 
 sovereign, raised the French above the malice of adverse fortune, 
 and cheered them with new hopes of a brilliant future. 
 
 We have seen the war brought to an end upon the American con- 
 tinent, by the irreparable check which the arms of England sustained 
 at Yorktown ; and we have also seen it suspended in the West indies, 
 by the disasters of the French marine. We shall now return from 
 those distant regions, to consider the issue of this long and bloody 
 war in that part of the globe which. we inhabit, and in those countries 
 whence it drew its principal aliment. The attention of all the in- 
 formed part of mankind was turned upon the siege of Gibraltar. 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 427 
 
 For many ages, Europe had not witnessed an enterprise of this sort 
 which presented more formidable difficulties, or more important 
 results. 
 
 Admiral Howe had sailed for the relief of that fortress. Various 
 were the conjectures of men respecting the success of his efforts. 
 Some, full of confidence in the dexterity and audacity of the English, 
 infene^ from the event of their preceding expeditions the most favor- 
 able issue to this; others, reflecting upon the naval superiority of the 
 allied courts, and impressed with esteem for the talents and valor of 
 the count de Cuichen and don Lewis de Cordova, formed a contrary 
 opinion. In one place, the extraordinary preparations that had been 
 made and were still making, by the besiegers, appeared to answer 
 for the approaching fall of Gibraltar. In another, on the contrary, 
 the strength of its position, the perfection of its works, and the intre- 
 pidity of its defenders, seemed to place it beyond the reach of dan- 
 ger. Every where but one opinion prevailed upon this point; that 
 the obstacles were numerous, and that blood must stream copiously 
 before they were all surmounted. But the very hazards of this great 
 enterprise so inflamed the valor of all warlike men, that even those who 
 were not called to take an active part in it, wished at least to be 
 spectators of the glorious scenes that were about to be represented 
 at the foot of this formidable rock. Hence it was, that not only from 
 France and Spain, but also from Germany, and the remoter regions 
 of the north, the most distinguished personages were seen hastening 
 to arrive at the camp of St. Roch, and in the port of Algesiras. 
 Even those nations which are accounted barbarous, and who have 
 communicated that appellation to so large and so fine a portion of 
 Africa, were seized with an irresistible curiosity ; they repaired to 
 the nearest shores in order to contemplate a spectacle so new for 
 them. All was in movement in the camp, in the arsenals, and aboard 
 the fleets of the allies. From the summit of his rock, Elliot awaited 
 with an heroic constancy the attack with which he was menaced. 
 But before relating the memorable events that ensued, it appears to 
 us necessary to enter into a description of the places, and of the 
 works within and without the citadel ; and to trace an outline of the 
 plans and preparations of the besiegers. 
 
 The fortress of Gibraltar is seated upon a rock which projects iu 
 the form of a tongue for the space of .a league, from north to south, 
 out of the continent of Spain, and which is terminated by a promon- 
 tory called the point of Europe. The top of this rock is elevated a 
 thousand feet above the level of the sea. Its eastern flank, or that 
 which looks towards the Mediterranean, is entirely composed of a 
 living rock, and so perpendicularly steep as to be absolutely inacces- 
 sible. The point of Europe, which is also of solid rock, slopes and 
 terminates in an esplanade which rises twenty feet above the sea ; 
 here the English have planted a battery of twenty pieces of heavy 
 
428 
 
 THE AMERICAN WAIl. BOOK XIV 
 
 artillery. Behind this point the promontory dilates, and there is 
 formed a second esplanade which overlooks the first, and affords 
 space enough for the troops of the garrison to parade in without diffi- 
 culty. As the declivity is gentle, and of easy access, the English 
 have made cuts in the rock in front, and surrounded the platform with 
 a wall fifteen feet in height and as many in thickness, copiously fur- 
 nished with artillery. Within this platform they have constructed 
 besides an intrenched camp, which offers them a secure retreat in 
 case they should he driven from their outer works. From this post 
 they communicate with another still more elevated, and situated 
 among steep and irregular masses ; here the besieged had established 
 their camp. Upon the western flank of the promontory, and upon 
 the seashore, the town of Gibraltar itself occupied a long and narrow 
 space. It had been almost totally destroyed by the artillery, in one 
 of the preceding attacks. It is closed on the south by a wall, on the 
 north by an ancient fortification called the castle of the Moors, and in 
 front, next the sea, by a parapet sixteen feet thick, and furnished 
 from distance to distance with batteries, which fire level with the 
 water. Behind the town, the mountain rises abruptly quite to its 
 summit. The English, for the greater security of this part, have 
 constructed two other works, which project considerably into the sea. 
 Both are armed with formidable batteries. The first, which looks to 
 the north, is called the Old Mole ; the second, the New Mole. Not 
 content with these defences, they have erected in front of the castle 
 of the Moors and of Old Mole, another work consisting in two bastions, 
 connected by a curtain, of which the scarp and covered way, being 
 well countermined throughout, are very difficult to mine. The object 
 of this construction is to sweep, by a raking fire, that narrow strip of 
 land which runs between the rock and the sea, and which forms the 
 only communication of the Spanish continent with the fortress. In 
 the front of this work, the water of the sea had been introduced by 
 means of dikes and sluices, which forming a pool or fen, adds much 
 to the strength of this part. The north side, or that which faces 
 Spain, is by far the loftiest flank of the rock. It fronts the camp of 
 Si. Roch, and presents upon all its surface a prodigious quantity of 
 batteries, which descend in tiers towards the Spanish camp. Thus 
 art had combined with nature to make of this immense rock an im- 
 pregnable citadel. Between the promontory of Gibraltar and the 
 coast of Spain, lies towards the west a deep gap filled by the waters 
 of the sea ; it is the bay of Gibraltar or of Algesiras. The port and 
 city of this name are situated upon the western shore of the bay. 
 The garrison of Algesiras amounted to little over seven thousand 
 men, with about two hundred and fifty officers. Such was the nature 
 of that rock, against which the Spanish monarchy displayed the 
 greatest part of its forces, and invoked besides the powerful assist- 
 ance of France. This enterprise was the object of the most ardent 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 429 
 
 wishes of Charles III. ; he considered the honor of his crown as 
 deeply interested in its success. The king of France likewise saw 
 in the reduction of Gibraltar the termination of the war. In order 
 to push the operations of the siege and secure its success, the con- 
 duct of it was committed to the duke de Crillon ; the public opinion 
 designated the victor of Minorca as the conqueror of Gibraltar. 
 
 The preparations directed against this place exceeded every thing 
 that had ever been heard of in like circumstances. Upwards of* 
 twelve hundred pieces of heavy cannon, eighty-three thousand bar- 
 rels of powder, a proportionable quantity of bombs and balls, were 
 destined to batter the works of the English. Forty gunboats, with 
 as many bombketches, were to open their fire on the side of the bay, 
 under cover of a formidable fleet of fifty sail of the line ; twelve 
 French, the others Spanish. Frigates and light vessels hovered in 
 front of this line, in waiting to carry succour wherever it might be 
 wanted. Upwards of three hundred large boats had been assembled 
 from all parts of Spain, which came to join the immense number 
 already in the bay of Algesiras. It was intended to employ them 
 during the attack in carrying munitions and necessaries to the ships 
 of war, and in landing the troops as soon as the works should be 
 ruined. Nor were the preparations by land inferior to those that were 
 made by sea. The Spaniards had already advanced by sap ; and their 
 lines, as soon as they were terminated, presented an astonishing 
 number of batteries of heavy artillery. Twelve thousand French 
 troops were brought to diffuse their peculiar vivacity and animation 
 through the Spanish army, as well as for the benefit to be derived 
 from the example and exertion of their superior discipline and expe- 
 rience. At sight of the immense warlike apparatus assembled against 
 the place, and of the ardor manifested by the soldiers, the generals 
 who directed the siege considered themselves as so sure of success, 
 that they were upon the point of ordering, without further delay, a 
 general assault. They had resolved, that while the land forces should 
 assail the fortress on the side of the isthmus, the fleet should batter 
 it upon all the points contiguous to the sea. They hoped that the 
 garrison, already little numerous, experiencing besides a great diminu- 
 tion in dead and wounded, would be totally incapable of sufficing for 
 the defence of so extensive works. The loss of some thousands of 
 men, and several ships of the line, would have seemed to the be- 
 siegers but a slender price for so inestimable a conquest. Mean- 
 while, the project of an attack by main force was not adopted by all 
 the members of the council. Those who blamed its temerity, 
 observed, that until the defences of the place on the land side were 
 entirely prostrated, to attempt the assault would be sending the 
 troops to a certain death, without any hope of success. On the part 
 of the sea, they showed that an attack would be attended with the 
 inevitable destruction of the ships, without producing the smallest 
 vor,. n. 55 
 
430 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 effect upon the fortress. ' Nevertheless,' they added, * as a simple 
 attack by land must necessarily be fruitless, it is highly desirable that 
 a kind of ships could be procured more capable of resisting artillery 
 than those of an ordinary construction.' It could not be expected to 
 carry Gibraltar by an attack of short duration ; but was it possible 
 to prolong it without hazarding the ruin of the fleet? This considera- 
 tion occupied the thought of several men of talents. They present- 
 'ed plans of various inventions, all having for object to facilitate the 
 battering of the fortress on the part of the sea. These schemes 
 were examined with extreme attention. Several were rejected as 
 incompetent to the purpose in view, none as too expensive. At 
 length, after long deliberation, it was agreed to adopt the plan of the 
 chevalier d' Arcon, a French engineer of high note ; it was thought 
 ingenious and infallible. His project went to the construction of 
 floating batteries, or ships, upon such a principle, that they could nei- 
 ther be sunk, nor fired. The first of these properties was to be 
 acquired by the extraordinary thickness of timber, with which their 
 keels and bottoms were to be fortified ; the second, by securing the 
 sides of the ships, wherever they were exposed to shot, with a strong 
 wall, composed of timber and cork, a long time soaked in water, and 
 including between a large body of wet sand. But the ingenious 
 projector not being yet satisfied with his work, and wishing to render 
 it more proof against the redhot shot from the fortress, executed a 
 contrivance for communicating water in every direction to restrain 
 its effect. In imitation of the circulation of the blood in a living 
 body, a great variety of pipes and canals perforated all the solid 
 workmanship, in such a manner, that a continued succession of 
 water was to be conveyed to every part of the vessels ; a number of 
 pumps being adapted to the purpose of an unlimited supply. By 
 this means, it was expected that the redhot shot would operate to 
 the remedy of its own mischief; as the very action of cutting through 
 those pipes would procure its immediate extinction. 
 
 To protect his floating batteries from bombs, and the men at the 
 batteries from grape or descending shot, the chevalier d' Arcon had 
 contrived a hanging roof, which was to be worked up and down with 
 ease, and at pleasure. The roof was composed of a strong rope- 
 work netting, laid over with a thick covering of wet hides ; while its 
 sloping position was calculated to prevent the shells from lodging, and 
 to throw them off into the sea before they could take effect. All 
 this scaffolding was constructed upon the hulks of great ships, from 
 six hundred to fourteen hundred tons burthen, cut down to the slate 
 required by the plan. There were ten of these floating batteries ; 
 they were armed in all with an hundred and fifty-four pieces of heavy 
 brass cannon, that were mounted ; and something about half the 
 number of spare guns were kept ready to supply the place of those 
 which might be overheated, or otherwise disabled in action. The 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 431 
 
 Pastora alone, which was the largest, carried twenty-four in battery, 
 and twelve in reserve. The Talla Piedra, commanded by the 
 Prince of Nassau, and the Paula, which was also one of the stoutest, 
 mounted a no less numerous artillery. That its fire might not be 
 slackened by losses in dead or wounded, thirty-six men, as well 
 Spaniards as French were allotted to the service of each piece. 
 The command of this flotilla had been confided to admiral don 
 Moreno, a seaman of equal valor and ability, who had served with 
 distinction at the siege of Port Mahon. The vast bulk of the bat- 
 tering ships, the materials employed in their construction, and the 
 weight of their artillery seemed likely to render them extremely 
 heavy and unmanageable. They were however rigged with so much 
 skill and ingenuity, that they executed their various evolutions with 
 all the ease and dexterity of frigates. 
 
 When all these preparations were completed, there were few per- 
 sons in the camp of the besiegers who did not consider the fall of a 
 place so vigorously attacked as inevitable. It was at this epoch, 
 towards the middle of August, that two French princes arrived at 
 the army before Gibraltar ; the count d' Artois and the duke de 
 Bourbon. The object of their mission was to animate the troops by 
 their presence, and that they might themselves come in for a share 
 of the glory of so signal and illustrious an enterprise. The army 
 were impatient to receive the signal of attack ; their ardor had more 
 need of restraint than incitement. So sanguine was the general 
 hope, that the duke de Crillon was thought extremely cautious of 
 hazarding an opinion, when he allowed so long a term as fourteen 
 days to the certainty of being in possession of Gibraltar. Twenty- 
 four hours appeared more than sufficient. 
 
 The arrival of the French princes afforded an opportunity for the 
 display of that politeness, and the exercise of those humanised atten- 
 tions and civilities, by which the refined manners of modern Europe 
 have tended so much to divest war of many parts of its ancient 
 savage barbarity. The Spaniards had intercepted some packets, 
 containing a number of letters directed to the officers in Gibraltar, 
 and had transmitted them to the court of Madrid, where they lay, at 
 the time that the count d' Artois arrived at that capital. 
 French prince obtained the packets from the king, and on his arrival 
 at the camp, had them forwarded to their address. The duke de 
 Crillon sent with them a letter to general Elliot, in which, besides 
 informing him of this particular mark of attention shown by the count 
 d' Artois, he farther acquainted him that he was charged by the 
 French princes respectively, to convey to the general the strongest 
 expressions of their regard and esteem for his person and character. 
 He requested in the most obliging terms, that he would accept of r 
 present of fruit and vegetables, for his own use, which accompanied 
 the letter, and of some ice and partridges for the gentlemen of his 
 
432 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 household ; farther entreating, that as he knew the general lived 
 entirely upon vegetables, he would acquaint him with the particular 
 kinds which he liked best, with a view to his regular supply. Gene- 
 ral Elliot answered with the same politeness ; he returned many 
 thanks to the princes and the dnke de Crillon, for the flattering 
 attentions they were pleased to show him. But he informed the 
 duke that in accepting the present, he had broken through a resolu- 
 tion which he had invariably adhered to from the commencement of 
 the war, which was, never to receive, or to procure by any means 
 whatever, any provisions or other commodity for his own private use ; 
 and that he made it a point of honor, to partake of both plenty and 
 scarcity, in common with the lowest of his brave fellow-soldiers. He 
 therefore entreated the duke, not to heap any more favors of the 
 same kind upon him, as he could not in- future apply them to his 
 own use. This exchange of courtesies was deemed worthy of their 
 authors, and of the sovereigns they represented. 
 
 But while these civilities were passing, as in the rnidst of profound 
 peace, the dispositions were in process for redoubling the horrors of 
 war. Elliot had hitherto observed in a sort of inaction the prepara- 
 tions of the besiegers, When all of a sudden he saw issuing from the 
 port of Algesiras the enormous masses of the floating batteries. If 
 his courage was not shaken, he could not however but feel at least a 
 strong emotion of surprise. In this uncertainty as to what might be 
 the effect of those new invented machines, prudence urged him to 
 make every defensive preparation that was calculated to -elude and 
 defeat it. Confiding, moreover, iti the strength of the place, and 
 the valor of his garrison, he was under no apprehension for the issue 
 of the approaching attack. He did more ; he resolved to anticipate 
 it, by attacking himself. The besiegers had pushed their works with 
 so much diligence that some of them were already far advanced 
 towards the fortress. The governor determined to try how far a 
 vigorous cannonade and bombardment with redhot balls, carcasses 
 and shells, might operate to their destruction. A powerful and 
 Admirably directed firing accordingly commenced from the garrison, 
 j$at seven o'clock in the morning of the eighth of September. By 
 ten o'clock, the Mahon battery, with another adjoining to it, were ia 
 flames ; and by five in the evening were entirely consumed, together 
 with their gun-carriages, platforms and magazines, although the latter 
 were bomb proof. A great part of the communications to the east- 
 ern parallel, and of the trenches and parapet for musketry, were 
 likewise destroyed ; and a large battery near the bay suffered exces- 
 sively ; the works were on fire in fifty places at the same instant. It 
 was not without extreme exertions and considerable loss that the 
 besiegers at length succeeded in extinguishing the flames, and pre- 
 serving their works from total destruction. 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 433 
 
 This affront was so much resented by the duke de Crillon, that 
 having pressed the reparation of his works during the night, he 
 unmasked all his batteries by break of day on the following morn- 
 ing ; they mounted one hundred and ninety-three pieces of cannon 
 and mortars, and continued to pour their fire of shot and shells, with- 
 out intermission, upon the garrison, through the whole course of the 
 day. At the same time, a part of the fleet taking the advantage of 
 a favorable wind, dropped down from the Orange Grove at the head 
 of the bay, and passing slowly along the works, discharged their shot 
 at the Old Mole and the adjoining bastions, continuing their cannon- 
 ade until they had passed Europa Point and got into the Mediterra- 
 nean. They then formed a line to the eastward of the rock, and 
 the admiral leading, came to the attack of the batteries on the point, 
 and under a very slow sail, commenced a heavy fire with all their 
 guns. But these combined efforts did very little harm to the besieg- 
 ed. There prevailed for some days a calm, which was soon to be 
 interrupted-by a most sanguinary combat. 
 
 The thirteenth of September was destined to witness an ever 
 memorable conflict. History, in effect, presents nothing more terri- 
 ble for the desperate fierceness and resolution of the two parties, nor 
 more singular for the species of arms, nor more glorious for the 
 humanity manifested by the conquerors. The season beginning to 
 be late, and admiral Howe approaching with intent to revictual Gib- 
 raltar, the allied commanders felt the necessity of precipitating the 
 attack they meditated. According to the plan agreed upon, the 
 artillery of the lines, the floating batteries, the ships of war and gun- 
 boats were to attack the place upon all points at once. While the 
 cannon, mortars and howitzers of the isthmus kept up a heavy fire 
 on the land side, it was intended that the floating batteries should 
 direct their fire against the works which commanded the bay, taking 
 their station in front of the Old Mole. At the same time, the gun 
 and mortar boats, with the bombketches, taking post on the two 
 flanks of the line of battering ships, were to enfilade the British 
 artillery which defended the fortifications constructed upon the 
 margin of the sea. As to the fleet, it was destined to concur no less 
 effectually to the attack, according to the wind or the necessity of 
 the service. In this manner, the fortress would be battered simulta- 
 neously by four hundred pieces of ordnance, without including the 
 artillery afloat. 
 
 General Elliot, on his part, had neglected nothing that could ena- 
 ble him to make a vigorous defence. The soldiers were at their 
 posts, the artillerists at their places with lighted matches ; numerous 
 furnaces were prepared for heating the shot. At seven in the morn- 
 ing, the ten battering ships, under the conduct of admiral don Mo- 
 reno, put themselves in motion. Between nine and ten they came 
 to an anchor, being moored in a line, at moderate distances, from 
 
434 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 the Old to the New Mole, lying parallel to the rock, and at about 
 nine hundred yards distance. The admiral's ship was stationed 
 opposite the king's bastion ; ' and the others took their appointed 
 places successively, and with great regularity, on his right and left. 
 The cannonade and bombardment, on all sides, and in all directions, 
 from the isthmus, the sea, and the various works of the fortress, was 
 not only tremendous, but beyond example. The prodigious showers 
 of redhot balls, of bombs, and of carcasses, which rilled the air, and 
 were without intermission thrown to every point of the various 
 attacks, both by sea and by land, from the garrison, astonished even 
 the commanders of the allied forces. The battering ships, however, 
 appeared to be the principal objects of vengeance, as they were of 
 apprehension, to the garrison ; but such was the excellence of their 
 construction, that they not only resisted this terrible fire, but answer- 
 ed it with equal fury ; and already they had operated a breach in 
 the works of the Old Mole. The result of so many mutual efforts 
 seemed for a long time uncertain. At length, however, some smoke 
 began to issue from the upper part of the battering ships Pastora and 
 Talla Piedra. It was caused by some redhot balls, which had pene- 
 trated so far into their sides, that they could not be extinguished by 
 the water of the internal canals. They had set fire to the contiguous 
 parts, which, after smouldering for some time, suddenly broke out in 
 flames. The men were seen, at the hazard of life, using fire 
 engines, and pouring water into the shotholes. This fire, though 
 kept under during the continuance of daylight, could never be 
 thoroughly subdued. The disorder in these two commanding ships 
 in the centre, affected the whole line of attack ; and by the evening 
 the fire from the fortress had gained a decided superiority. The fire 
 was continued from the batteries in the fortress with equal vigor 
 through the night, and by one o'clock in the morning the two first 
 batteries were in flames, and the others visibly on fire, whether by 
 the effect of the redhot shot, or, as the Spaniards pretended, that 
 they were purposely set on fire, when it appeared no longer possible 
 to save them. The confusion was now extreme. Rockets were 
 continually thrown up by each of the ships, as signals to the fleet of 
 their distress and danger. These signals were immediately answer- 
 ed, and all means used by the fleet to afford the assistance they 
 required ; but as it was deemed impossible to remove the battering 
 ships, their endeavors were only directed to bringing off the men. A 
 great number of boats were accordingly employed, and great intre- 
 pidity displayed, in the attempts for this purpose ; the danger from 
 the burning vessels, rilled as they were with instruments of destruc- 
 tion, appearing no less dreadful than the fire from the garrison, 
 terrible as that was, since the light thrown out on all sides by the 
 flames afforded the utmost precision in its direction. Never, per- 
 haps, has a more deplorable spectacle passed before the eyes of 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 435 
 
 men. The thick darkness which covered the land and waters in the 
 distance contrasted with the frightful glare of the flames which de- 
 voured so many victims ; in the midst of the roar of artillery, their 
 dolorous cries were audible. A new incident occurred to interrupt 
 the attempts that were made for their rescue, and to complete the 
 general confusion and destruction. Captain Curtis, a seaman as 
 able as he was adventurous, advanced at this moment with twelve 
 gunboats, each carrying one eighteen or twenty-four pounder. They 
 had been constructed to oppose those of the Spaniards, and their low 
 fire and fixed aim rendered them extremely formidable. Captain 
 Curtis drew them up in such a manner as to flank the line of batter- 
 ing ships. The scene was wrought up by this fierce and unexpect- 
 ed attack to the highest point of calamity. The Spanish boats dared 
 no longer to approach, and were compelled to the hard necessity of 
 abandoning their ships and friends to the flames, or to the mercy of 
 a heated and irritated enemy. Several of their boats and launches 
 had been sunk before they submitted to this necessity ; and one in 
 particular, with fourscore men on board, who were all drowned, 
 excepting an officer and twelve men, who having the fortune to float 
 on the wreck under the walls, were taken up by the garrison. Some 
 feluccas had taken shelter upon the coast during the night, but as 
 soon as the day appeared, the English soon compelled them to sur- 
 render. It seemed that nothing could have exceeded the horrors of 
 the night ; but the opening of daylight disclosed a spectacle still more 
 dreadful. Numbers of men were seen in the midst of the flames, 
 crying out for pity and help ; others floating upon pieces of timber, 
 exposed to an equal though less dreadful danger from the opposite 
 element. Even those in the ships, where the fire had yet made a 
 less progress, expressed in their looks, gestures, and words, the 
 deepest distress and despair, and were no less urgent in imploring 
 assistance. Moved with compassion at this dismal scene, the Eng- 
 lish discontinued their fire, and thought only of saving the enemy 
 they had vanquished ; a conduct the more generous, as it was 
 attended with manifest peril. Captain Curtis in particular acquired 
 an imperishable glory, by showing himself regardless of his own 
 existence in his endeavors to preserve that of his enemies. He 
 advanced intrepidly with his boats towards the burning ships, in 
 order to rescue those who were about to become the prey of the 
 one or other element. He was himself the first to rush on board 
 the blazing batteries, and to set the example of dragging with his 
 own hands the terrified victims from the jaws of destruction. Mean- 
 while, death hovered incessantly round him. He was equally expos- 
 ed to the peril arising from the blowing up of the ships as the fire 
 reached their magazines, and to the continual discharge, on all sides, 
 of the artillery, as the guns became to a certain degree heated. 
 Several of his people were killed or severely wounded in this honor- 
 
436 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 able enterprise. He was near sharing the fate of one of the largest 
 ships, which blew up only a few moments after he left her. Near four 
 hundred men were thus saved, by the noble exertions of Curtis from 
 inevitable death. The French and Spaniards, however, lost no less 
 than fifteen hundred men, including the prisoners and wounded, in. 
 the attack by sea. The wounded that fell into the power of the 
 conqueror were carried to the hospitals of the fortress, and treated 
 with the greatest humanity. Nine floating batteries were burnt by 
 the redhot shot, or by the Spaniards themselves. The tenth was 
 burnt by the English, when they found she could not be brought off. 
 Their loss w r as inconsiderable ; it amounted, according to their 
 account, since the ninth of August, to no more than sixty-five killed, 
 and three hundred and eighty-eight wounded. The fortifications 
 received but slight damage ; or at least not so considerable as to 
 afford any room for future apprehension. 
 
 In this manner was victory obtained with lasting glory to general 
 Elliot, and the whole garrison of Gibraltar. The treasures which 
 the king of Spain had expended for the construction of these enor- 
 mous machines, the bravery and perseverance of his troops, the valor 
 and spirit of the French, were all in vain. 
 
 It cannot indeed be positively affirmed, that if such formidable 
 means of attack had even been employed in all their efficacy, and 
 according to the intention of the generals, they would have sufficed 
 to carry the place ; but neither can it be denied that the allies com- 
 mitted several faults of no little importance. The first was undoubt- 
 edly that of having hurried on the attack before M. d' Arcon had 
 been able to bring his floating batteries to that degree of perfection 
 which he could have wished. By working the pumps, he had per- 
 ceived that the water of the pipes leaked upon the inward parts, and 
 that the powder was exposed to be wet by it, and rendered unfit for 
 use. He would have found a remedy for this inconvenience ; but 
 he was not allowed time to seek it. The inner pipes were therefore 
 stopped up, and only the outer ones filled with water, which were 
 found an insufficient defence against the effect of the redhot shot. It 
 is, besides, to be considered that don Moreno was ordered so abruptly 
 to repair to the attack from the point of Majorca, that ho found it 
 impossible to form the line of his floating batteries in front of the 
 Old Mole, as contemplated in the plan of attack. From that point 
 his fire would assuredly have been more efficacious, and he might 
 also have retired thence without difficulty if he had thought it neces- 
 sary ; but he was constrained to take post between the Old and the 
 New Mole. Nor did the Spanish gunboats answer the general expec- 
 tation, whether they were in effect opposed by the wind, as was pre- 
 tended, or that their spirit of adventure sunk under the dreadful fire 
 from the garrison. Only two of them took any considerable share 
 in the attack. The great fleet itself remained in a stats of almost 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 437 
 
 total inaction. It is uncertain whether this failure should be attribut- 
 ed to an unfavorable wind, or to secret jealousies between the land 
 arid sea commanders. The batteries on shore, whatever was the 
 cause of it, were equally far from performing the services which 
 were expected from them. Their fire was neither so well supported, 
 nor so well directed, as it should have been. It resulted from these 
 several causes, that the garrison, instead of being disquieted upon all 
 points at the same instant, found themselves at liberty to direct the 
 whole weight and force of their fire against the floating batteries. 
 In this manner was disconcerted the most ingenious design which for 
 a long time had been framed by the wisdom of man. The most 
 sanguine hopes suddenly gave place to the opinion, that Gibraltar 
 was not only the strongest place known, but that it was absolutely- 
 inexpugnable. 
 
 Convinced, by this attack, that a regular siege could not have the 
 desired issue, the allied commanders resolved to convert it into a 
 blockade, and to await from famine what they despaired of obtaining 
 by dint of arms. It was therefore of the highest importance to pre- 
 vent admiral Howe from throwing into the place the intended relief. 
 
 The combined fleet had accordingly taken its anchorage in the 
 bay of Algesiras, to the number of about fifty sail of the line; among 
 which were five of one hundred and ten guns, and the Trinidad, of 
 one hundred and twelve. The design of don Lewis de Cordova, 
 the commander of these forces, was to engage the British fleet as 
 soon as it should appear, while his light squadron should give chase 
 to the transports and capture them, one after another. It is not easy 
 to explain why this admiral, instead of advancing to meet the enemy 
 off Cape St. Mary, where he would have been able to display his 
 whole line, took the determination to await him in a narrow b;iy, 
 where the number of his ships, so far from being an advantage, could 
 only tend to embarrass him. It appears that this disposition emanat- 
 ed immediately from the king of Spain, whose thoughts were all 
 absorbed in the conquest of Gibraltar. 
 
 In the meantime, admiral Howe met with much delay through 
 contrary winds and unfavorable weather, on bis way to Gibraltar. 
 His anxiety was therefore extreme, lest the place should find itself 
 necessitated to surrender before the arrival of succours. It was not 
 till the fleet had arrived near the scene of action that his apprehen- 
 sions were removed, by intelligence received from the coast of Por- 
 tugal, of the total discomfiture of the combined forces. This news 
 increased his hope of succeeding in his enterprise ; he calculated 
 that the enemy, discouraged by so severe a check, would show him- 
 self less eager to encounter him. Near the mouth of the straits he 
 met with a furious gale of wind, which damaged several of his ships. 
 The combined fleet suffered much more in the bay of Algesiras. 
 One ship of the line was driven ashore near the city of that name ; 
 VOL. it. 56 
 
438 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 another fine Spanish ship, of seventy-two guns, was driven across 
 the bay, under the works of Gibraltar, and was taken by the boats of 
 the garrison. Two more were driven to the eastward into the Medi- 
 terranean ; others lost masts or bowsprits ; and many suffered more 
 or less damage. 
 
 On the morning that succeeded the storm, the British fleet entered 
 the straits' mouth, in a close line of battle ahead, and in the evening 
 of the same day it was opposite the port of Gibraltar ; but the wind 
 failing, only four victualling ships could enter the harbor. The rest 
 of the transports with the squadron were drifted by the currents into 
 the Mediterranean. The combined fleet took the same direction. 
 A general action seemed inevitable ; a calm and fog which came up, 
 prevented it ; or perhaps the admirals themselves were not disposed 
 to engage, without all probabilities of success. However it was, 
 admiral Howe profiting dexterously of an east wind which sprung up 
 in the strait, passed his whole convoy to Gibraltar harbor. To cover 
 this operation, the British fleet had formed in order of battle at the 
 mouth of the straits, fronting the Mediterranean, between the opposite 
 points of Europa and Ceuta. 
 
 The combined fleets then made their appearance, bearing directly 
 down upon the enemy ; but the British admiral considering that the 
 revictualling of Gibraltar, the principal object of his mission, was 
 accomplished, he saw that it would be the highest imprudence and 
 rashness to hazard an action in the strait. He knew the superiority 
 of force that he would have to encounter ; and he could not but per- 
 ceive that the vicinity of the enemy's coasts would exceedingly aggra- 
 vate, for him, the consequences of a defeat. He chose, if he was 
 obliged to come to action, to have searoom enough, in order, by his 
 evolutions, to prevent its being decisive, as it must necessarily be hi 
 a confined space. Under these considerations, he took the advan- 
 tage of a favorable wind, and repassed the straits into the Atlantic. 
 
 The allies followed him with only a part of their fleet. Twelve 
 of their largest ships of the line, being heavy sailers, were left behind. 
 Meanwhile, their van came within reach of the British rear, and there 
 immediately ensued between them a brisk, though distant cannonade, 
 the only effect of which was to damage some vessels on both sides. 
 Profiting of their superiority of sailing, the English drew off to such 
 a distance, that the allies lost all hope of coming up with them. They 
 then took the resolution of repairing to Cadiz. Admiral Howe de- 
 tached eight of his ships for the West Indies, six others to the coasts 
 of Ireland, and returned with the rest to Portsmouth. The destruc- 
 tion of the floating batteries, and the revictualling of Gibraltar, 
 relieved England from all disquietude respecting the fate of that 
 place. This double success was no less glorious for her arms, than 
 afflicting for the enemies she combated. The allies are reproached 
 with having shown upon land too much precipitancy and too little 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 439 
 
 concord ; upon sea, too much indecision and too little spirit. In this 
 occurrence, as in those which had preceded it, the display of their 
 great naval forces had resulted in little more than a vain parade. It 
 is, however, to be considered, that if during the course of all this 
 war, the fleets of the allied courts gained no brilliant advantages, or 
 rather sustained reverses, in general actions, their seamen more often 
 than once acquired signal renown in particular engagements of ship 
 with ship. The French, especially, manifested in these rencounters 
 a valor and ability alike worthy of admiration, and often crowned 
 with victory. We leave those to account for this difference who are 
 more versed than ourselves in naval tactics. 
 
 The events which we have related, as well in this as in thejbre- 
 going book, had occasioned among the belligerent powers an ardent 
 desire, or rather an avowed will to put an end to the war. On all 
 sides, a hope was cherished that an honorable adjustment would soon 
 be brought about. Several successive campaigns, without any im- 
 portant advantage, and the loss of the army taken at Yorktovvn, with 
 lord Cornvvallis, had at length convinced the British ministry of the 
 impossibility of subjugating the Americans by force of arms. The 
 manoeuvres employed to divide them among themselves, or to detach 
 them from their allies, had not been attended with any better success 
 than military operations. On the other hand, the victories of Rod- 
 ney and Elliot had not only dissipated all fears for the West Indies 
 and Gibraltar, but also put in safety the honor of Great Britain. 
 With the exception of the independence of the United States, which 
 she could no longer refuse to acknowledge, she found herself in a 
 situation to treat upon a footing of equality with her enemies relative 
 to all other articles. Victorious at Gibraltar, holding the scale of 
 fortune even in the seas of Europe, she had caused it to incline in 
 her favor in the West Indies. If she had sustained sensible losses 
 in that quarter, she had, however, acquired the island of St. Lucia, 
 so important from its strength, the excellence of its ports, and the 
 advantages of its position. Although it could not be considered as a 
 sufficient indemnification on the part of Great Britain for the loss of 
 Dominica, Grenada, Tobago and St. Christophers, yet England had 
 made so considerable conquests in the East Indies that she brought 
 into a negotiation more objects of exchange than France could offer. 
 But all these considerations yielded to another of far greater mo- 
 ment ; the public debt of Great Britain, already enormous, experi- 
 enced every day an alarming augmentation. The people did not 
 conceal their desire for the return of peace, and the protraction of 
 the war excited public murmurs. The ministers themselves, who 
 had so severely censured the obstinacy of their predecessors in con- 
 tinuing the war, openly inclined for peace ; whether because they 
 thought it really necessary, or that they were afraid of incurring 
 similar reproaches. An untimely death had carried off the marquis 
 
440 THE AMERICAN WAK. BOOK XIV. 
 
 of Rockingham, who, in the general direction of affairs, had concili- 
 ated universal esteem, and Fox had resigned. The first had been 
 replaced by the earl of Shelburne, and the second by William Pitt, 
 son of the earl of Chatham ; both known for consenting rather from 
 necessity than choice to the independence of America. The ma- 
 jority of the ministry, however, was composed of those who had 
 obtained the repeal of the rigorous laws against the Americans, and 
 who had afterwards distinguished themselves in parliament by advo- 
 cating with singular warmth and eloquence an early acknowledg- 
 ment of their independence. It was therefore determined to send 
 Thomas Grenville to Paris, in order to sound the intentions of the 
 French government, and to prepare the ways for the plenipotentiaries 
 that were to follow him. A short time after, in effect, M. Fitz Her- 
 bert and M. Oswald repaired to the French capital in that character; 
 they had little difficulty in penetrating the dispositions of the court ot 
 Versailles. The United States had taken care that their plenipo- 
 tentiaries should assemble at Paris in this conjuncture ; they were 
 John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens, 
 who had recently been released from his detention in the tower of 
 London. 
 
 If great was the desire of peace in England, it was not less ar- 
 dently wished for in France, as well by the government as by the 
 people. The court of Versailles had attained the object it had most 
 at heart, that is the separation of the British colonies from the mother 
 country. The first of the proposals of the court of London was, in 
 effect, to acknowledge the independence of the United States ; and 
 this was the principal, and indeed the -only avowed motive of France 
 for taking up arms. As to the situation of affairs in the West Indies, 
 the operations that were in contemplation against those islands, inter- 
 ested Spain much more than France. And, besides, the discomfiture 
 of the twelfth of April had deranged all plans, and extinguished all 
 hopes. Nor was there any room to expect better fortune in the seas 
 of Europe, since their empire had already been disputed for several 
 years, without the occurrence of any decisive event. 
 
 The losses which France had sustained in the East Indies, might 
 counterbalance the conquests she had made in the West. Upon the 
 whole, therefore, she found herself in a condition to treat for herself 
 on equal terms with respect to the chances of war, and upon a foot- 
 ing oi decided superiority in regard to its principal cause ; the inde- 
 pendence of the United States. Independent of the foregoing 
 considerations, there existed others which powerfully urged a speedy 
 reestablishment of peace. The finances were exhausted ; and not- 
 withstanding the judicious regulations and economy which the govern- 
 ment had endeavored to introduce into all the departments, the 
 resources were no longer in proportion to the exorbitant charges of 
 the war. The expenditure exceeded the receipt, and every day 
 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 441 
 
 beheld the increase of the public deht. The reestablishment of the 
 marine, expeditions in distant countries, the capture of several 
 convoys which it had been necessary to replace, such were at first" 
 the charges which consumed the royal treasure. The Americans, 
 afterwards, deprived in a great measure of all revenue by the slow- 
 ness with which taxes were paid in their country, authorised them- 
 selves from the insufficiency of their means to present incessantly 
 new demands to the court of Versailles. After having permitted the 
 farmers-general to lend them a million of livres, after having guaran- 
 teed the loans which they had negotiated in Holland, Lewis XVI. 
 had advanced them himself eighteen millions, and they still solicited 
 six others. The French, at this epoch, had applied themselves with 
 singular ardor to the extension of their commerce. The war had 
 proved extremely prejudicial to it, and the merchants who had been 
 the greatest sufferers could no longer hope to retrieve their losses, 
 but by the cessation of hostilities. All these considerations led to a 
 general opinion, that to the possibility of concluding an honorable 
 peace, was added the expediency and even the necessity of so doing. 
 
 As to Spain, the hope of conquering Gibraltar and Jamaica had 
 been annihilated by the .fatal days of the twelfth of April and the 
 thirteenth of September. The continuation of the war with a view 
 to these two objects, would therefore have been rather the effect of 
 obstinacy than of constancy. On the other hand, the court of Madrid 
 had acquired by its arms the province of West Florida and the island 
 of Minorca. As England had no compensation to offer it for these two 
 acquisitions, it was natural to think that a treaty of peace would con- 
 firm the possession of them to Spain. Though her views had been 
 aimed much higher, these advantages were at least sufficient to pre- 
 vent the Spaniards from complaining that they had taken part in the 
 war without any personal interest, and through mere complaisance. 
 It had never ceased to excite general surprise that the court of 
 Madrid should have furnished fuel to a conflagration which might 
 become so fatal to itself, in taking part in a war whose professed ob- 
 ject was that of establishing an independent republic in the immediate 
 vicinity of her Mexican possessions. The contagion of example, the 
 seduction of novelty, the natural proclivity of men to shake off the 
 yoke, afforded without doubt reasonable grounds of apprehension 
 and alarm. But if Spain had interfered in this great quarrel against 
 her particular interests, she would have been doubly blameable in 
 lavishing so much blood and treasure to prolong it, especially since 
 the possession of Minorca and West Florida secured her honorable 
 conditions. This power therefore inclined also towards the general 
 pacification. 
 
 It remains for us to cast a glance upon the Dutch. Following 
 their allies at a distance, rather than marching at their side, they-were 
 constrained by their position to will whatever France willed. It was 
 
442 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 only from that power, and not from their, own forces, that they could 
 expect the termination of their disquietudes. If they had recovered 
 "St. Eustatius and Dernerary, were they not indebted for it entirely 
 to the arms of the king of France ? They wished therefore for 
 peace, since experience had taught them that war could yield them 
 no advantage, and that it is never more detrimental than to a people 
 whose existence is founded upon commerce. 
 
 To this inclination for peace, manifested at the same time by all 
 the belligerent powers, was added the mediation of the two most 
 powerful princes of Europe ; the empress of Russia and the emperor 
 of Germany. Their intervention was accepted with unanimous con- 
 sent ; every thing verged. towards a general peace. 
 
 Thus, towards the close of the present year, the negotiations at 
 Paris were pushed with mutual ardor. The English and Americans 
 were the first to come to an accommodation. They signed, the 
 thirtieth of November, a provisional treaty, which was to be defini- 
 tive and made public, as soon as France and Great Britain should 
 have adjusted their differences. The most important conditions of 
 this treaty were, that the king of England acknowledged the liberty, 
 sovereignty and independence of the thirteen United States of 
 America, which were all named .successively ; that his Britannic 
 majesty renounced, as well for himself, as for his heirs and successors, 
 all rights whatever over the government, property or territory, of the 
 said states. In order to prevent any occasion for complaints on either 
 side upon the subject of limits, imaginary lines of boundary were 
 agreed upon, which brought within the territory of the United Slates 
 immense countries, lakes and rivers, to which, up to that time, they 
 had never pretended any sort of claim. For, besides the vast and 
 fertile countries situated upon the banks of the Ohio and Mississippi, 
 the limits of the United States embraced a part of Canada and Nova 
 Scotia ; an acquisition which admitted the Americans to participate 
 in the fur trade. Some Indian nations, which had hitherto existed 
 under the domination of the English, and especially the Six Tribes, 
 who had always adhered to their party and alliance, were now includ- 
 ed in the new territory of the United States. The English were 
 to evacuate and restore all the parts which they still occupied, such 
 as New York, Long Island, Staten Island, Charleston, Penobscot and 
 all their dependencies. There was no mention made of Savannah, 
 as the evacuation of that place and of all Georgia by the English, 
 had already left it entirely in the power of Congress. 
 
 The Americans were also secured by the treaty of peace in ttie 
 right of fishing on the banks of Newfoundland, in the Gulf of St. 
 Lawrence, and all other places where the two nations had been 
 accustomed to carry on fishery before the rupture. It was expressly 
 stipulated, that the Congress shoulo 1 recommend to the different states 
 that they should decree the restitution of all cofifiscated effects. 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 443 
 
 estates and property whatsoever, as well to British subjects as to 
 those among the Americans who had adhered to the party of Eng- 
 land. It was agreed, besides, that such individuals could not be 
 questioned or prosecuted for any thing which they had said or done 
 in favor of Great Britain. These last articles displeased certain 
 zealous republicans, and became the object of vehement declamations 
 on their part. They little reflected how vengeance, at first so sweet, 
 may prove bitter in the result. The loyalists were not any more satis- 
 fied ; galled at seeing their fate depend on a mere recommendation, 
 which might have effect or not, according to the good pleasure of the 
 several states, they complained of the ingratitude of England, who 
 unworthily abandoned them to chance. Animated discussions also 
 arose in parliament relative to this point. The party in opposition 
 represented in glowing colors the infamy with which the ministers 
 were about to cover the name of England, in suffering those who had 
 served her to become the prey of their persecutors. It seemed to 
 have been forgotten that in these political convulsions it is necessary 
 to have regard rather to what is possible or advantageous, than to 
 that which is merely just and honorable. Every man who takes 
 part in a civil conflict, must expect, sooner or later, to submit to this 
 common law. Exclusively occupied with its great interests, the State 
 deigns not even to perceive those of individuals. Its own preserva- 
 tion is the sole object of its cares; for it the public good is every 
 thing, private utility nothing. Upon the adoption of these bases, it 
 was agreed that hostilities, whether by land or sea, should cease 
 immediately between Great Britain and America. 
 
 1783. The preliminaries of peace between France and England 
 were signed at Versailles on the twentieth of January 1783, by the 
 count de Vergennes, minister of foreign affairs, and M. Fitz Herbert, 
 minister plenipotentiary of his Britannic majesty. England acquired 
 thereby an extension of her right of fishery upon the banks of New- 
 foundland. But she restored to France in full property the islands 
 of St. Pierre and Miquelon. She likewise restored her the island of 
 St. Lucia, and ceded her that of Tobago. On the other hand, 
 France restored to England the island of Grenada, with the Grena- 
 dines, Dominica, St. Vincent, St. Christopher, Nevis and Montserrat. 
 In the East Indies, France recovered possession of Pondicherry, and 
 Karical, and all her other establishments in Bengal and upon the 
 coast of Orixa. Still other concessions of no little importance were 
 made her, relating to trade and the right of fortifying different places. 
 But an article singularly honorable for France, was that by which 
 England consented to consider as entirely annulled all stipulations 
 which had been made in regard to the port of Dunkirk, since the 
 peare of Utrecht, in 1713. 
 
 The court of London ceded to that of Madrid the island of Minorca 
 and the two Flondas. It obtained, at the same time, the restitution 
 
444 THE AMERICAN 'WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 of the Bahama islands ; a restitution which was afterwards found 
 superfluous, since colonel Deveaux had just r- conquered those 
 islands with a handful of men, equipped at his own expense. These 
 preliminaries were converted into a definitive treaty of peace the 
 third of September, 1783. It was signed on the part of France by 
 the count de Vergennes, and on that of Spain, by the count d' Aranda, 
 and in behalf of England, by the duke of Manchester. The defini- 
 tive treaty between Great Britain and the United States was signed 
 the same day at Paris, by David Hartley on one part, and by John 
 Adams, Benjamin Franklin, and John Jay, on the other. On the 
 preceding day had likewise been concluded, at Paris, the separate 
 treaty between Great Britain and the States-General of Holland ; 
 the duke of Manchester stipulating in the name of his Britannic ma- 
 jesty, and M. Van Berkenroode and M. Bransten, in behalf of their, 
 high mightinesses. The court of London restored to the Dutch 
 their establishment of Trincomale ; but they ceded to the English 
 the city of Negapatam with its dependencies. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the pomp with which the allied courts had 
 affected to assert the maritime rights of neutrals, no mention whatever 
 was made in these different treaties of so important a point of public 
 law. 
 
 Such was the issue of the long struggle undertaken for the cause 
 of America. If may it be supposed, that the colonists had for a long 
 time sought, an opportunity to throw off the yoke, it must be admitted 
 also, that the English were themselves the first to excite them to it. 
 Their rigorous laws irritated, instead of restraining ; the insufficiency 
 of their military force, and the versatility of their measures, did but 
 the more imbolden the resistance of the Americans. The war which 
 ensued, was carried on, as civil wars have usually been, often with 
 valor, always with desperation, and sometimes with barbarity. Be- 
 tween the English, on the contrary, and the other European nations 
 which they had to combat, the reciprocal demonstrations of prowess 
 received new lustre from that humanity and courtesy which emi- 
 nently characterise the age in which we live. The Congress and the 
 Americans in general, displayed the most extraordinary constancy ; 
 the British ministers perhaps merited the reproach of obstinacy, and 
 the cabinet of France distinguished itself by the singular sagacity of 
 its policy. 
 
 From these different causes resulted the foundation in the New 
 World of a Republic, happy within by its constitution, pacific by its 
 character, respected and courted abroad for the abundance of its 
 resources. So far as it is possible to judge of sublunary tilings, from 
 the extent and fertility of its territory, and the rapid increase of its 
 population, it is destined, at no distant day, to become a vast, and 
 exceedingly powerful state. To consolidate their work, and render 
 its duration eternal, the Americans have only two things to avoid. 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 44f> 
 
 The one is, that moral depravation which too commonly results from 
 an excessive love of gain ; the other is, the losing sight of those prin- 
 ciples upon which the edifice is founded- May they at least return to 
 them promptly, if the ordinary course of human events should intro- 
 duce disorder and decay into that admirahle system of government 
 which they have estahlished ! 
 
 With the exception of an affair of little importance in which colonel 
 La wens was slain, and the evacuation of Charleston, nothing had 
 passed upon the American continent, deserving of particular atten- 
 tion. As soon as the preliminaries of peace were known there, the 
 public joy manifested itself, hut with much less enthusiasm however 
 than might naturally he supposed. Peace had for a long time been 
 looked upon as certain ; and man enjoys more calmly the possession 
 of happiness itself, than the hopes which precede it. New appre- 
 hensions, besides, soon arose to cloud the horizon ; a secret fire 
 menaced a conflagration, and at the very moment in which peace 
 disarmed external enemies, an intestine war appeared ready to rend 
 (he republic. The pay of the army was excessively in arrear ; the 
 greater part of the officers had spent in the service of the state, not 
 only all they were possessed of, but also the fortunes of their friends. 
 They were very apprehensive that the resolutions of October, 1780, 
 by which Congress had granted them half pay for a certain term of 
 years, would not be carried into effect. They had therefore deputed 
 a committee of officers, to solicit the attention of Congress to this 
 subject. Their instructions were, to press the immediate payment 
 of the money actually due, the commutation of the half pay above 
 mentioned for a sum in gross, and the indemnification of the officers 
 for the sums which they had been compelled to advance in conse- 
 quence of the failure of their rations. Some security that the 
 engagements of the government would be complied with, was also 
 to be requested. But whether because a part of the members of 
 Congress were little disposed to favor the army, or that others were 
 desirous that the particular states, and not the federal treasury, should 
 support the burthen of these gratifications, nothing was decided. 
 Discouraged at this slowness, the deputies wrote to the army. The 
 other public creditors manifested no less disquietude than the officers. 
 They foresaw plainly that the ordinary revenue would be altogether 
 inadequate to the payment of the sums that were due to them ; and 
 they were equally convinced of the repugnance which the states 
 would have to impose new taxes for the purpose of raising the means 
 to satisfy their demands. The discontent of the first and of the 
 second was extreme, they already anticipated their total ruin. 
 
 The American government at this epoch, was divided in two par- 
 ties ; one was sincerely disposed to do ample justice to the public 
 creditors generally, and to this end they desired the establishment 
 of a general tax ; they labored to fund the public debts on solid con- 
 VOL. n. 57 
 
446 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 tinental securities ; they wished also to create a revenue to answer 
 the necessities of the republic, and to be subject to the disposal of 
 Congress. The opposite party considered this revenue as dangerous 
 to liberty. They contended that the particular states alone, not the 
 Congress, should have authority to impose taxes or duties. Already, 
 at the recommendation of Congress, twelve states had subjected to a 
 duty of five per cent, all foreign produce or manufactures that should 
 be imported into the United States. One state, however, out of the 
 thirteen, had refused to comply with the wishes of Congress, and 
 this refusal paralysed the action of the twelve others. 
 
 It was at this epoch that intelligence was received of the signature 
 of the preliminary and eventual articles of peace ; the disbanding of 
 the arrny must be its necessary consequence. The partisans of the 
 tax then became apprehensive that their adversaries, when relieved 
 from the maintenance of the troops, and from the fear which they 
 inspired, would show themselves still more adverse to the creation of 
 a national revenue. They saw not only that the creditors of the state 
 would thus be cut off from all hope, but that the republic itself would 
 be exposed for the future to incessant and inextricable embarrass- 
 ments, for want of a general authority invested with the power of 
 imposing taxes. They resolved, therefore, to profit of an occasion 
 which would never again present itself, to procure the adoption of a 
 plan whose utility appeared to them incontestable. They were un- 
 decided, however, as to the means to be employed in this conjunc- 
 ture ; several contradictory opinions were advanced. The more 
 resolute, not reflecting upon the danger of an irregular appeal to the 
 multitude in affairs of state, were inclined to resort to force, and to 
 make of the army itself the instrument of their designs. At the head 
 of these were Alexander Hamilton, then member of Congress, the 
 treasurer, Robert Morris, with another Morris, his assistant in office. 
 But the more circumspect thought it advisable to pursue a middle 
 course, and to permit the army to threaten but not to act ; as if the 
 hand which has excited a popular movement could also appease it at 
 pleasure ! In the secret councils that were held upon this affair, the 
 latter opinion prevailed. Colonel Stewart, of the regular troops of 
 Pennsylvania, was sent to camp under pretext of entering upon the 
 exercise of his office of inspector-general. He had instructions to 
 sound the dispositions of Washington, and to endeavor to ascertain 
 how far he would consent to give into the plan agreed upon. It was 
 especially recommended to him to foment the agitation which pre- 
 vailed in the army, and to persuade it not to disband until it had 
 obtained full assurance that the arrears of pay should be liquidated, 
 together with an indemnification for the supplies which it ought to 
 have had, but which had been withheld up to that time. Whether 
 the commander-in-chief was not disinclined towards this scheme, or 
 that he thought it prudent not to declare himself too ostensibly, cplo- 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 447 
 
 nel Stewart believed, or at least made others believe, that Washington 
 approved it entirely. Meanwhile, the members of the opposite party 
 were soon apprised of what was passing, and set themselves to coun- 
 terart it. Convinced of the importance of obtaining the countenance 
 of Washington, they put forward a certain Harvey, who had mani- 
 fested an extreme ardor in these discussions. This man wrote to 
 the commander-in-chief, that, under the pretence of wishing to satisfy 
 the public creditors, the most pernicious designs were meditated 
 against the republic ; that nothing less was in agitation than a plot to 
 demolish the fabric of freedom, and to introduce tyranny. To these 
 insinuations he joined others relating to Washington personally ; he 
 intimated to him that it was wished to deprive him of his rank, to put 
 down his friends, and, in a word, to destroy the work which they had 
 accomplished with so much glory, and at the expense of so much toil 
 and blood. Washington could not but entertain certain apprehen- 
 sions. He doubted there were machinations in agitation which por- 
 tended no good to the state. He circulated the letter of Harvey, 
 that its contents might be known even to the soldiers. He exerted all 
 his authority to prevent an insurrection. The commander-in-chief 
 thus declared himself publicly against a design, which perhaps within 
 his own breast he did not altogether disapprove, though he blamed, 
 and not without reason, the means by which it was to have been 
 carried into execution. The most alarming rumors were propagated 
 on all parts. It was loudly exclaimed that the troops, before they 
 disbanded, ought to obtain justice ; that they had a right to claim the 
 fruit of victories which their valor had won ; that the other creditors 
 of the state, and many members of the Congress itself, invoked the 
 interference of the army, prepared to follow the example which they 
 expected from it. Minds became highly inflamed ; assemblages were 
 formed in the camp, and it was openly proposed in them to make law 
 for the Congress. In the midst of this effervescence, circulated anony- 
 jnous invitations to the officers to convene in general assembly. On 
 the eleventh of March, was passed from hand to hand an address, the 
 author of which did not name himself, but who was known afterwards 
 to be major John Armstrong. This writing, composed with great inge- 
 nuity, and with greater passion, was singularly calculated to aggravate 
 the exasperation of the soldiers, and to conduct them to the most 
 desperate resolutions. Blameable in a time of calm, it became really 
 criminal at a moment when all heads were in a state of the most 
 vehement irritation. Among other incendiary passages, it contained 
 the following ; ' After a pursuit of seven years, the object for which 
 we set out is at length brought within our reach ; yes, my friends, 
 that suffering courage of yours was active once ; it has conducted the 
 United States of America through a doubtful and a bloody war. It 
 has placed her in the chair of independency, and peace returns again 
 to blessWhom ? A country willing to redress your wrongs, cherish 
 
448 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV. 
 
 your worth, and reward your services? a country courting your 
 return to private life, with tears of gratitude, and smiles of admira- 
 tion, longing to divide with you that independence which your gal- 
 lantry has given, and those riches which your wounds have preserved t 
 Is this the case? or is it rather a country that tramples upon your 
 rights, disdains your cries, and insults your distresses? Have you 
 not more than once suggested your wishes, and made known your 
 wants to Congress? Wants and wishes which gratitude and policy 
 should have anticipated rather than evaded ; and have you not lately, 
 in the meek language of entreating memorials, hegged from their 
 justice what you could no longer expect from their favor ? How 
 have you been answered ? Let the letter of your delegates to 
 Philadelphia reply. 
 
 1 If this, then, he your treatment while the swords you wear are 
 necessary for the defence of America, what have you to expect 
 when your voice shall sink, and your strength dissipate by division ? 
 When those very swords, the instruments and companions of your 
 glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no remaining mark of 
 military distinction left but your wants, infirmities and scars ? Can 
 you then consent to be the only sufferers by this revolution, and re- 
 tiring from the field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness and contempt t 
 Can you consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and 
 owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity, which has hitherto 
 been spent in honor? If you can, go and carry with you the jest 
 of tories and the scorn of whigs the ridicule, and what is worse, the 
 pity of the world. Go, starve, and be forgotten ! But if your spirit 
 should revolt at this ; if you have sense enough to discover, and 
 spirit enough to oppose tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume ; 
 whether it be the plain coat of republicanism, or the splendid robe 
 of royalty ; if you have yet learned to discriminate between a people 
 and a cause, between men and principles, awake ; attend to your 
 situation, and redress yourselves. If the present moment be lost, 
 every future effort is in vain ; and your threats then will be as empty 
 as your entreaties now. 5 
 
 These words, more worthy of a raving tribune of the people, than 
 of a discreet American, chafed minds already exasperated into a 
 delirium of fury. The general fermentation announced the most 
 sinister events ; and war between the civil and military powers ap- 
 peared inevitable. But Washington, whose constancy no crisis could 
 shake, strong in the love and veneration of the people, contemplated 
 the danger of his country, and instantly formed the generous design 
 of extinguishing the kindling conflagration. He was not ignorant 
 how much better it is, in such circumstances, to lead misguided 
 minds than to resist them ; how much easier it is to obviate intem- 
 perate measures than to correct them. He resolved, therefore, to 
 prevent the meeting of the officers. With this view, in his orders 
 
BOOK. Xtv. THE AMEPaCAN WAR. 449 
 
 addressed to the officers, lie expressed the conviction he felt that 
 their own good sense would secure them from paying any attention 
 to an anonymous invitation ; but his own duty, he added, as well as 
 the reputation and true interest of the army, required his disapproba- 
 tion ot such disorderly proceedings. At the same time, he requested 
 the general and field officers, with one officer from each company, 
 and a proper representation from the staff of the army, to assemble 
 in order to deliberate upon the measures to be adopted for obtaining 
 the redress of their grievances. 
 
 By this conduct, the prudence of which is undeniable, Washington 
 succeeded in impressing the army with a belief that he did not dis- 
 approve their remonstrances, and the leaders of the insurrection, in 
 particular, that he secretly favored their designs. By this means he 
 gained time for disposing minds and things in such a manner, that 
 the military committee should take only those resolutions which 
 entered into his plan. The following day, Armstrong circulated a 
 second anonymous paper, in which he congratulated the officers 
 upon the prospect tlfat their measures were about to receive the 
 sanction of public authority ; he exhorted them to act with energy in 
 the assembly convoked for the fifteenth of March. 
 
 In the meantime, Washington exerted the whole weight of his 
 influence to bring the agitations of the moment to a happy termina- 
 tion ; he endeavored to impress on those officers individually who 
 possessed the greatest share of the general confidence, a just sense 
 of what the exigency required ; to sofhe he represented the dangers 
 of the country ; to others, the .constancy they had hitherto manifest- 
 ed ; to all, the glory they had acquired, and the interest they had in 
 transmitting it entire and unsullied to their posterity. He reminded 
 them also of the exhausture of the public treasury, and of the infamy 
 with which they would brand themselves in giving birth to civil war, 
 at the very moment in which the public happiness was about to 
 revive in the midst of peace. On the day appointed by Washington, 
 the convention of officers assembled. The commander-in-chief 
 addressed them a speech, as judicious as it was eloquent, in which 
 he endeavored to destroy the effect of the anonymous papers. He 
 demonstrated all the horror of the alternative proposed by the author, 
 that in case of peace, the army should turn their arms against the 
 state, unless it instantly complied with their demands, and if war con- 
 tinued, that they should abandon its defence by removing into some 
 wild and unsettled country. 
 
 1 My God !' he exclaimed, what can this writer have in view, by 
 recommending such measures ? Can he be a friend to the army ? 
 Can he be a friend to this country f Rather is he not an insidious 
 foe ; some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plotting the ruin of 
 both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between the 
 civil and military authorities of the continent ?' ' Let me entreat 
 
450 THE AMERICAN WAR. BOOK XIV* 
 
 you, gentlemen,' he added, ' not to take any measures, which, viewed 
 in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity, and sully the glory 
 you have hitherto maintained ; let me request you to rely on the 
 plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the 
 purity of the intentions of Congress ; that previous to your dissolu- 
 tion as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liqui- 
 dated ; and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their 
 power to render ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious 
 services. And let me conjure you in the name of our common 
 country, as you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the 
 rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national honor 
 of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the 
 man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the 
 liberties of our country ; and who wickedly attempts to open the 
 flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood. 
 
 1 By thus determining, and thus acting, you will pursue the plain 
 and direct road to the attainment of your wishes ; you will defeat 
 the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to resort 
 from open force to secret artifice. You will give one more distin- 
 guished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising 
 superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings ; and you 
 will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to 
 say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to 
 mankind ; " Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the 
 last stage of perfection to which4uman nature is capable of attaining." ; 
 
 When Washington had concluded his discourse, a profound silence 
 ensued in the assembly ; soon those who composed it communicated 
 to each other in a low voice, the sentiments with which they were 
 impressed. The authority of such a personage, the weight of his 
 words, the sincere affection which he bore to the army, operated 
 irresistibly upon all minds. The effervescence gave place to a calm. 
 No voice was heard in opposition to that of the chief. The deputies 
 of the army declared unanimously that no circumstances of distress 
 or danger should induce them to sully the glory which they had 
 acquired ; that the army continued to have an unshaken confidence 
 in the justice of Congress and their country ; thnt they entreated the 
 commander-in-chief to recommend to the government the subject of 
 their memorials ; and, finally, that they abhorred the infamous pro- 
 positions contained in the anonymous writing addressed to the officers 
 of the army. Thus Washington, by his prudence and firmness, was 
 instrumental in preserving his country from the new danger that 
 menaced it, at the very moment when its safety seemed to have been 
 established forever. Who knows what might have happened, if 
 civil war had ensanguined the very cradle of this republic ? The 
 captain-general kept his word, and was himself the advocate of his 
 officers with the Congress. He obtained of them a decree, comrnut- 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 451 
 
 ing the half pay into a sum in gross equal to five years' full pay, and 
 that either in money, or securities bearing an interest of six per cent. 
 According to the orders of Congress, three months' pay was 
 advanced to the officers and soldiers in the notes of the treasurer. 
 But this measure was not taken till late, and not until the Pennsylva- 
 nia militia had broken out into so violent an insurrection, at Phila- 
 delphia, that they blockaded, with arms in hands, the very hall of 
 Congress for some hours. The reduction of the continental army 
 became then the principal object of attention, and discharges were 
 granted successively to those soldiers, who during seven campaigns 
 of a most obstinate war, had struggled with an heroic constancy, not 
 only against sword and fire, but also against hunger, nakedness, and 
 even the fury of the elements. Their work completed, their country 
 acknowledged independent, they peaceably returned to their fami- 
 lies. The Congress voted them public thanks, in the name of a 
 grateful country. The English were not slow to evacuate New 
 York and its dependencies, in which they had made so long a 
 stay. A little after, the French departed from Rhode Island for 
 their possessions, carrying with them the benedictions of all the 
 Americans. 
 
 The Congress, in order to celebrate worthily the establishment of 
 peace and independence, appointed the eleventh of December, to be 
 observed as a day of solemn thanksgiving to the Dispenser of all 
 good. By another decree they ordained, that an equestrian statue 
 of bronze should be erected to general Washington, in the city 
 where the Congress should hold its sessions. The general was to 
 be represented by it in the Roman costume, with the staff of com- 
 mand in the right hand, and the head encircled with a crown of 
 laurel. The pedestal of marble was to be invested with bassi relievi 
 commemorative of the principal events of the war, which had taken 
 place under the immediate command of Washington ; such as the 
 deliverance of Boston, the taking of the Hessians at Trenton, the 
 affair of Princeton, the battle of Monmouth, and the surrender of 
 Yorktown. The anterior face of the pedestal was to bear the fol- 
 lowing inscription. The United States assembled in Congress, voted 
 this statue, in the year of our Lord 1783, in honor of George Wash- 
 ington, captain-general of the armies of the United States of Ame- 
 rica, during the war which vindicated and secured their liberty, 
 sovereignty, and independence. 
 
 Such was the issue of a contest which during the course of eight 
 consecutive years, chained the attention of the universe, and drew 
 the most powerful nations of Europe to take a share in it. It is 
 worthy of the observer to investigate the causes which have concur- 
 red to the triumph of the Americans, and baffled the efforts of their 
 enemies. In the first place, they had the good fortune not to en- 
 counter opposition from foreign nations, and even to find among 
 
152 THE AMERICAN 'WAR. BOOK X1V T . 
 
 them benevolence^ countenance, and succours. These favorable 
 dispositions, while they inspired them with more confidence in the 
 justice of their cause, redoubled also their spirit and energy. The 
 coalition of several powerful nations, leagued against a single one, on 
 account of some reform it wishes to establish in the frame of its 
 government, and which theatens not only to defeat its object, but to 
 deprive it of liberty and independence, usually causes its rulers to 
 divest themselves of all moderation and prudence, and to have re- 
 course to the most violent and extraordinary measures, which soon 
 oxhaust the resources of the country and excite discontent among 
 its inhabitants ; till, oppressed and harassed in every form by the 
 officers of government, they are driven at last into civil convul- 
 sions, in which the strength of the community is consumed. And 
 besides, these violent measures so disgust the people with the whole 
 enterprise, that confounding the abuse of a thing with the use of it ; 
 they choose rather to retreat to the point from which they set out, 
 or even further back, than to continue their progress towards the 
 object originally proposed. Hence it is, that, if that object were 
 liberty, they afterwards rush into despotism, preferring the tyranny 
 of one to that of many. But to these fatal extremities, the Arneri 
 cans were not reduced, as well for the reason at first stated, the 
 general favor of foreign states, as on account of the geographical 
 position of their country, separated by vast seas from nations which 
 keep on foot great standing armies, and defended on all other points 
 by impenetrable forests, immense deserts and inaccessible mountains, 
 and having in all this part no other enemy to fear except the Indian 
 tribes, more capable of infesting and ravaging the frontiers, than of 
 making any permanent encroachments. One of the most powerful 
 causes of the success of the American revolution, should, doubtless, 
 be sought in the little difference which existed between the form of 
 government which they abandoned, and that which they wished to' 
 establish. It was not from absolute, but from limited monarchy, 
 that they passed to the freedom of an elective government. Moral 
 things, with men, are subject to the same laws as physical ; the laws 
 of all nature. Total and sudden changes cannot take place without 
 causing disasters or death. 
 
 The royal authority, tempered by the very nature of the govern- 
 ment, and still enfeebled by distance, scarcely made itself perceptible 
 in the British colonies. When the Americans had shaken it off en- 
 tirely, they experienced no considerable change. Royalty alone was 
 effaced ; the administration remained the same, and the republic; 
 found itself established without shock. Such was tho advantage 
 enjoyed by the American insurgents, whereas the people of other 
 countries, who should undertake to pass all at once from absolute mo- 
 narchy to the republican scheme, would find themselves constrained 
 to overturn not only monarchical institutions, but all others, in order 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 453 
 
 to substitute new ones in their stead. But such a subversion, cannot 
 take place without doing violence to the opinions, usages, manners 
 and customs of the greater number, nor even without grievously 
 wounding their interests. Discontent propagates itself; democratic 
 forms serve as the mere mask of royalty ; the people discover that 
 they have complained of imaginary evils ; they eagerly embrace the 
 first opportunity to measure back their steps, even to the very point 
 which they started from. 
 
 Another material cause of the happy issue of this grand enterprise, 
 will be seen in the circumspect and moderate conduct invariably 
 pursued by that considerate and persevering people by whom it was 
 achieved. Satisfied with having abolished royalty, they paused 
 there, and discreetly continued to respect the ancient laws, which 
 had survived the change. Thus they escaped the chagrin of having 
 made their condition worse in attempting to improve it. They had 
 the good sense to reflect, that versatility in counsels degrades the 
 noblest cause, chills its partisans, and multiplies its opponents. There 
 will always be more alacrity in a career whose goal is fixed and ap- 
 parent, than in that where it is concealed in obscurity. The Ame- 
 ricans reared the tree, because they suffered it to grow; they gather- 
 ed its fruit, because they allowed it to ripen. They were not seen 
 to plume themselves on giving every day a new face to the state. 
 Supporting evil with constancy, they never thought of imputing it to 
 the defects of their institutions, nor to the incapacity or treason of 
 those who governed them, but to the empire of circumstances. 
 They were especially indebted for this moderation of character to 
 the simplicity of their hereditary manners j few among them aspired 
 to dignity and power. 
 
 They presented not the afflicting spectacle of friends dissolving 
 their ancient intimacies, and even declaring a sudden war upon each 
 'other, because one was arrived at the helm of state without calling 
 trie other to it. With them patriotism triumphed over ambition. 
 There existed royalists and republicans; but not republicans of 
 different sects, rending with their dissentions the bosom of their coun- 
 try. There might be among them a diversity of opinions, but never 
 did they abandon themselves to sanguinary feuds, proscriptions and 
 confiscations. From their union resulted their victory ; they immo- 
 lated their enmities to the public weal, their ambition to the safety 
 of the state, and they reaped the fruit of it ; an ever memorable 
 proof that if precipitate resolutions cause the failure of political en- 
 terprises, temper and perseverance conduct them to a glorious issue. 
 
 The army was disbanded ; but the supreme command still remain- 
 ed in the hands of Washington ; the public mind was intent upon 
 what he was about to do. His prudence reminded him that it was 
 time to put a term to the desire of military glory ; his thoughts were 
 now turned exclusively upon leaving to his country a great example 
 VOL, ir. 58 
 
 
454 THE AMERICAN' WAR. BOOK xiv. 
 
 of moderation. The Congress was then in session at the city of 
 Annapolis in Maryland. Washington communicated to that body his 
 .resolution to resign the command, and requested to know whether it 
 would be their pleasure that he should offer his resignation in writing, 
 or at an audience. The Congress answered, that they appointed the 
 twenty-third of December for that ceremony. When this day arriv- 
 ed, the hall of Congress was crowded with spectators ; the legisla- 
 tive and executive characters of the state, several general officers, 
 and the consul-general of France were present. The members of 
 Congress remained seated and covered. The spectators were stand- 
 ing and uncovered. The general was introduced by the secretary, 
 and conducted to a seat near the president. After a decent interval, 
 silence was commanded, and a short pause ensued. The president, 
 general Mifflin, then informed him, that the United States in Congress 
 assembled were prepared to receive his communications. Washing- 
 ton rose, and with an air of inexpressible dignity, delivered the fol- 
 lowing address. 
 
 * Mr. President ; The great events on which my resignation de- 
 pended, having at length taken place, I have now the honor of offer- 
 ing my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself 
 before them to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, 
 and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service of my coun- 
 try. Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, 
 and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of be- 
 coming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appoint- 
 ment I accepted with diffidence, a diffidence in my abilities to 
 accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a 
 confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme 
 power of the union, and the patronage of heaven. The successful 
 termination of the war has verified the most sanguine expectations ; 
 and my gratitude for the interposition of Providence, and the assist- 
 ance I have received from my countrymen, increases with every 
 review of the momentous contest. While I repeat rny obligations to 
 the army in general, I should do injustice to my own feelings not to 
 acknowledge in this place, the peculiar services and distinguished 
 merits of the gentlemen who have been attached to my person during 
 the war. It was impossible the choice of confidential officers to 
 compose my family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, 
 sir, to recommend in particular, those who have continued in the 
 service to the present moment, as worthy of the favorable notice and 
 patronage of Congress. 
 
 * I consider it as an indispensable duty, to close this last act of my 
 official life by commending the interests of our dearest country to 
 the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintend- 
 ence of them, to his holy keeping. Having now finished the work 
 assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action, and bidding 
 
BOOK XIV. THE AMERICAN WAR. 455 
 
 an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I 
 have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my leave 
 of all the employments of public life.' 
 
 Having spoken thus, he advanced to the chair of the president, 
 and deposited the commission in his hands. The president made 
 him, in the name of Congress, the following answer. 
 
 4 Sir ; The United States in Congress assembled, receive with 
 emotions too affecting for utterance, the solemn resignation of the 
 authorities under which yoii have led their troops with success through 
 a perilous and a doubtful war. Called upon by your country to 
 defend its invaded rights,- you accepted the sacred charge, before 
 it had formed alliances, and whilst it was without funds or a govern- 
 ment to support you. You have conducted the great military contest 
 with wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the rights of the civil 
 power, through all disasters and changes. You have, by the love 
 and confidence of your fellow-citizens, enabled them to display their 
 martial genius, and transmit their fame to posterity. You have per- 
 severed, until the United States, aided by a magnanimous king and 
 nation, have been enabled, under a just Providence, to close the war 
 in freedom, safety, and independence ; on which happy event, we 
 sincerely join you in congratulations. Having defended the standard 
 of liberty in this new world, having taught a lesson useful to those who 
 inflict, and to those who feel oppression, you retire from the great 
 theatre of action, with the blessing of your fellow-citizens ; but the 
 glory of your virtues will not terminate with your military command ; 
 it will continue to animate the remotest ages. We feel, with you, 
 our obligations to the army in general, and will particularly charge 
 ourselves with the interests of those confidential officers who have 
 attended your person to this affecting moment. We join you in com- 
 mending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of 
 Almighty God, beseeching him to dispose the hearts and minds of its 
 citizens to improve the opportunity afforded them of becoming a 
 happy and respectable nation. And for you, we address to Him our 
 earnest prayers that a life so beloved, may be fostered with all his 
 care ; that your days may be happy as they have been illustrious ; 
 and that he will finally give you that reward which this world cannot 
 give.' 
 
 When the president had terminated his discourse, a long and pro- 
 found silence pervaded the whole assembly. All minds appeared 
 impressed with the grandeur of the scene, the recollections of the 
 past, the felicity of the present, and the hopes of the future. The 
 captain-general and Congress were the objects of universal eulogium. 
 
 A short time after this ceremony, Washington retired to enjoy the 
 long desired repose of his seat of Mount Vernon. in Virginia. 
 
I 
 
 BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 CHARLES JOSEPH WILLIAM BOTTA, was born at St. 
 George, province of Vercelli in Piedmont, in 1766. He 
 studied medicine at the university of Turin, and was em- 
 ployed as physician to the army of the Alps ; afterwards 
 to that of Italy. About this time he composed an exten- 
 sive work, containing a plan of government for Lombar- 
 dy. Towards the close of 1798, he was sent to the 
 islands of the Levant with the division detached thither 
 by general Buonaparte. 
 
 On his return to Italy he published a description of the 
 island of Corfu, and of the maladies prevalent there dur- 
 ing his stay ; 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
 In the year seven of the French Republic, (1799) gene- 
 ral Joubert appointed him member of the provisional 
 government of Piedmont. This provisional government 
 having been dissolved at the arrival of the commissioner 
 Musset, Botta was appointed member of the administra- 
 tion of the department of the Po. At the epoch of the 
 Austro-Russian invasion, he again took refuge in France. 
 The minister of war, Bernadotte, reappointed him physi- 
 cian of the army of the Alps ; and after the battle of 
 Marengo, the commarider-in-chief of the army of reserve 
 appointed him member of the Consulta of Piedmont. 
 
 At the commencement of 1801, he was member of the 
 executive commission, and afterwards, of the council of 
 general administration of the twenty-seventh military divi- 
 sion. Botta likewise made part of the deputation which 
 came to Paris in 1803 to present thanks to the govern- 
 ment upon the definitive adjunction of Piedmont, and 
 there published an historical sketch of the history of 
 Savoy and Piedmont. Immediately after the union, he 
 was elected member of the legislative body by the de- 
 partment of the Doura, the tenth of August, 1804. 
 twenty-eighth of October, 1808, he was created vice-pre- 
 sident, and on the expiration of his term, was reelected 
 
iRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 in 1809, and proposed, the ninth of December, as candi- 
 date for the ques tor ship. The emperor granted him soon 
 after the decoration of the order of the Union. 
 
 The third of January, 1810, he presented to Buona- 
 parte, in the name of the academy of sciences of Turin, 
 the two last volumes of its memoirs. He adhered, the 
 third of April, 1814, to the deposition of Napoleon and 
 his family. The eighth, he accepted the constitutional 
 act which recalled the Bourbons to the throne of France, 
 but he ceased to make part of the legislative body on the 
 separation of Piedmont. At the return of Buonaparte in 
 1815, he was appointed rector of the academy of Nanci, 
 but lost this place after the second restoration of the king. 
 
 Besides the works already named, he has published, 
 
 1. At Turin, 1801, an Italian translation of the work 
 of Born, of which Broussonet had given to the public a 
 French version, in 1784. 
 
 2. A memoir upon the doctrine of Brown, 1800, in 8vo. 
 
 3. Memoir upon the nature of tones and sounds, read 
 before the academy of Turin, and inserted (by extract) 
 in the Bibliotheque Italienne, tome I. Turin, 1803, 8vo. 
 
 4. The history of the war of the independence of Ame- 
 rica, 1809, 4 vols. 8vo. 
 
 5. II Carnillo, O Vejo conquistato, (Camillus, or Veii 
 conquered,) an epic poem in twelve cantos. Paris, 1816. 
 This work has received high encomiums in the European 
 journals. Botta has contributed some articles to the Bio- 
 graphie Universelle, among others, that of John Adams. 
 
 6. The history of Italy. 
 
 The Translator is indebted for the preceding notice of 
 Botta, to the complaisance of an estimable countryman 
 and acquaintance of the Historian. 
 
LIST OF WORKS 
 
 CONSULTED BY THE AUTHOR FOR WRITING THE HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN WAR. 
 
 % 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 Journals of the House of Lords ; Journals of the House of Commons, 
 in folio ; printed by order of the two Houses, from 1764 to 1783. 
 
 Authentic account of the Proceedings of Congress, held at New York in 
 1765. Almon, 1767. 
 
 Journals of the Proceedings of the Congress, in 8vo. Dilly, 1775. 
 
 Journals of Congress held at Philadelphia, for Almon, 1786. 
 
 The Parliamentary Register, &c. all the volumes from 1766 to 1783. 
 
 The Annual Register; all the volumes from 1764 to 1783. 
 
 Historical Anecdotes relative to the American rebellion, 1 vol. 8vo. 1779. 
 
 The Remembrancer, or impartial repository of public events ; the second 
 edition, London, for 1. Almon, with the prior documents. 
 
 Letters on the American Troubles, translated from the French of M. 
 Pinto, 1776. 
 
 An impartial History of the War in America between Great Britain and 
 her colonies, from its commencement to the end of the year 1779, in 8vo. 
 for Fauldnrs, 1780. 
 
 The History of the Civil War in America, comprehending the campaigns 
 of 1775, 1776, 177?; by an officer of the army, in 8vo. for Sewall, 1781. 
 
 A genuine detail of the several engagements, positions and movements of 
 the Royal and American armies, during the years 1775 and 1776, with an 
 accurate account of the blockade of Boston, &c. by William Carter, in 
 4to. for Kearsley, 1785. 
 
 An impartial and authentic narrative of the battle fought on the 17th 
 June, on Bunker's Hill ; by John Clarke, 1775. 
 
 A History of the Campaigns of 1780 and 1781 in the southern pro- 
 vinces of North America ; by lieutenant-colonel Tarleton, Dublin, 1 vol. 
 8vo. 1.787. 
 
 Strictures on lieutenant-colonel Tarleton's History of the campaigns of 
 1780 and 1781, by Roderick Mackenzie, in 8vo. 1787. 
 
 The History of the American Revolution, by David Ramsay, 2 vols. 
 8vo. Philadelphia, 1?'89. 
 
 History of the War with America, France, Spain and Holland, com- 
 mencing in 1775, and ending in 1783, by John Andrews, 4 vols. in 8vo. 
 London, for J, Fielding, 1785. 
 
 The History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment of the Independ- 
 ence of the United States of America, by William Gordon, London, printed 
 for the author, and sold by Charles Dilly, 1788, 4 vols. 8vo. 
 
 An Historical, Geographical, Commercial and Philosophical View of 
 the American United States, and of the European settlements in America, 
 and the West Indies ; by W. Winterbotham, 4 vols. in 8vo. London, 1795. 
 
 The Life of George Washington, by John Marshall, chief justice of the 
 United States, 5 vols. in 8vo. London, for Richard Philips 1804, 1805, 1807. 
 
LIST OF WORKS. 
 
 The Life of Washington, by David Ramsay, 1 vol. 8vo. New York, 
 1807, printed by Hopkins and Seymour. 
 
 Letters addressed to the Army of the United States, in the year 1783, 
 with a brief exposition ; by Buel, Kingston, State of New York, 1803. 
 
 FRENCH. 
 
 Revolution d'Amerique, par Pabbe Raynal, Londres, 1781. 
 
 Lettre adiessee a 1'abbe Raynal, sur les affaires de PAmerique Septen- 
 trionale, traduite de 1'Anglais de Thomas Payne, 1783. 
 
 Essais historiques et politiques sur les Anglo-Americains, par M. Billiard 
 d'Auberteuil, 4 vols. in 8vo. Bruxelles, 1781. 
 
 Histoire de 1'adminislration de Lord North, et de la guerre de I'Ameri- 
 que septentrionale, jusqu ? a la paix de 1783, 2 vols. in 8vo. Londres et 
 Paris, 1784. 
 
 Histoire impartiale des evenemens militaire et politiques de la derniere 
 guerre dans les quatre parties du monde, 3 vols. Amsterdam et Paris, chez 
 la veuve Duchesne, 1785. 
 
 Constitution des treize Etats Unis d'Amerique, Philadelphie et Paris, 
 1783. 
 
 Affaires de PAngleterre et de PAmerique, 17 vols. in 8vo. Anvers. 
 
 Voyages de M. le Marquis de Chastelux dans PAmerique Septentrionale, 
 pendant les annees 1780, 1781, et 1782, 2 vols. in 8vo. Paris, chea 
 Prault, 1786. 
 
 Histoire des troubles de PAmerique Anglaise, &c. par Francois Soules, 
 4 vols. in 8vo. Paris, chez Buisson, 1787- 
 
 Histoire de la derniere guerre entre la Grande Britagne et les Etats Unis 
 d'Amerique, la France, PEspagne et la Hollande, depuis son commencement 
 en 1775, jusqu'a sa fin en 1783, 1 vol. 4to. Paris chez Brocas, 1787- 
 
 Histoire de la Revolution de PAmerique, par rapport a la Caroline rneri- 
 dionale, par David Ramsay, membre du Congres Atnericain ; traduit de 
 PAnglais, 2 vols. 8vo. Londres et Paris, chez Frouille, 1787* 
 
 Recherches historiques et politiques sur les Etats Unis de PAmerique 
 Septentrionale, par un citoyen de Virginie, 4 vols. in 8vo. Paris, chez 
 Frouille, 1788. 
 
 Discussions importantes, debattues au parlement Britannique, 4 vols. in 
 8vo. Paris, chez Maradan et Perlet, 1790. 
 
 JVlemoires historiques et pieces authentiques sur M. de la Fayette. 1 vol. 
 in 8vo. Paris, Pan 2, (1793). 
 
 To the foregoing works should be added, a great number of pamphlets, 
 which, during the American revolution, were published daily, as well in 
 England as in America and France. Lastly, even among the actors of 
 the great events which he has related, the author has had the good fortune 
 to find individuals as polite as well informed, who have deigned to furnish 
 him with important manuscripts. He prays them to accept here the public 
 expression of his acknowledgment. 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
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 BAY 19 
 
 DEC 14 1967 
 
 LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS 
 
 Book Slip-35m-7,'62(D296s4)458 
 
2^1201 
 
 Botta, C.O.G. 
 
 History of the War of 
 the Independence of the 
 U.-S. of America. 
 
 Call Number: 
 
 E208 
 
 B6? 
 
 1826 
 
 251203