(ORIGINAL.)
Camp before Newport, 25th August, 1778.
MY DEAR GENERAL,—I had expected in answering your first letter that something interesting would have happened that I might communicate to your excellency. Every day was going to terminate our uncertainties; nay, every day was going to bring the hope of a success which I did promise myself to acquaint you of. Such was the reason of my deferring what my duty and inclination did urge me to do much sooner. I am now indebted for two favours of yours, which I beg leave to offer here my thanks for. The first letter reached me in the time we expected to hear again from the French fleet; the second I have just received. My reason for not writing the same day the French fleet went to Boston was, that I did not choose to trouble your friendship with the sentiments of an afflicted, injured heart, and injured by that very people I came from so far to love and support. Don't be surprised, my dear general; the generosity of your honest mind would be offended at the shocking sight I have under my eyes.
So far am I from a critical disposition that I will not give you the journal of our operations, neither of several instances during our staying here, which, however, might occupy some room in this letter. I will not even say to you, how contracted was the French fleet when they wanted to come in at their arrival; which, according to the report of the advertors, would have had the greatest effect. How surprised was the admiral, when, after a formal and agreed convention, one hour after the American general had given a new written assurance, our troops made the landing a day before it was expected. How mortified the French officers were to find out that there was not a gun left in these very forts to whose protection they were recommended. All these things, and many others, I would not take notice of, if they were not at this moment the supposed ground upon which, it is said, that the Count d'Estaing is gone on to Boston. Believe me, my dear sir, upon my honour, the admirals, though a little astonished by some instances of conduct on our part, did consider them in the same light as you and myself would have done, and if he is gone off, it is because he thought himself obliged by necessity.
Let us consider, my dear general, the motions of that fleet since it was proposed by the Count d'Estaing himself, and granted by the king in behalf of the United States. I will not go so far up as to remember other instances of the affection the French nation have for the Americans. The news of that fleet have occasioned the evacuation of Philadelphia. Its arrival has opened all the harbours, secured all the coasts, obliged the British navy to be together. Six of those frigates, two of them I have seen, sufficient for terrifying all the trading people of the two Carolinas, are taken or burnt. The Count d'Estaing went to offer battle, and act as a check to the British navy for a long time. At New York, it was agreed he should go to Rhode Island, and there he went. They prevented him from going in at first; afterwards, he was desired to come in, and so he did. The same day we landed without his knowledge; an English fleet appears in sight. His being divided into three parts by our directions, for, though he is a lieutenant-general, he never availed himself of that title, made him uneasy about his situation. But finding the next morning that the wind was northerly, being also convinced that it was his duty to prevent any reinforcement at Newport, he goes out under the hottest fire of the British land batteries, he puts the British navy to flight, and pursues them, and they were all in his hands when that horrid storm arrives to ruin all our hopes. Both fleets are divided, scattered; the Caesar, a 74 gun ship, is lost; the Marseillais, of the same size, loses her masts, and after that accident is obliged to send back an enemy's ship of 64; the Languedoç having lost her masts, unable to be governed and make any motions, separated from the others, is attacked by a ship of the line against which she could only bring six guns.
When the storm was over, they met again in a shattered condition, and the Caesar was not to be found. All the captains represented to their general that, after a so long navigation, in such a want of victuals, water, &c., which they had not been yet supplied with, after the intelligence given by General Sullivan that there was a British fleet coming, they should go to Boston; but the Count d'Estaing had promised to come here again, and so he did at all events. The news of his arrival and situation came by the Senegal, a frigate taken from the enemy. General Greene and myself went on board. The count expressed to me not so much as to the envoy from General Sullivan, than as to his friend, the unhappy circumstances he was in. Bound by express orders from the King to go to Boston in case of an accident or a superior fleet, engaged by the common sentiment of all the officers, even of some American pilots, that he would ruin all his squadron in deferring his going to Boston, he called a new council of war, and finding every body of the same opinion, he did not think himself justifiable in staying here any longer, and took leave of me with true affliction not being able to assist America for some days, which has been rewarded with the most horrid ungratefulness; but no matter. I am only speaking of facts. The count said to me these last words: after many months of sufferings, my men will rest some days; I will man my ships, and, if I am assisted in getting masts, &c., three weeks after my arrival I shall go out again, and then we shall fight for the glory of the French name, and the interests of America.
The day the count went off, the general American officers drew a protestation, which, as I had been very strangely called there, I refused to sign, but I wrote a letter to the admiral. The protestation and the letter did not arrive in time.
Now, my dear general, I am going to hurt your generous feelings by an imperfect picture of what I am forced to see. Forgive me for it; it is not to the commander-in-chief, it is to my most dearest friend, General Washington, that I am speaking. I want to lament with him the ungenerous sentiments I have been forced to see in many American breasts.
Could you believe, that forgetting any national obligation, forgetting what they were owing to that same fleet, what they were yet to expect from them, and instead of resenting their accidents as these, of allies and brothers, the people turned mad at their departure, and wishing them all the evils in the world, did treat them as a generous one would be ashamed to treat the most inveterate enemies. You cannot have any idea of the horrors which were to be heard in that occasion. Many leaders themselves finding they were disappointed, abandoned their minds to illiberality and ungratefulness. Frenchmen of the highest character have been exposed to the most disagreeable circumstances, and yet, myself, the friend of America—the friend of General Washington. I am more upon a warlike footing in the American lines, than when I come near the British lines at Newport.
Such is, my dear general, the true state of matters. I am sure it will infinitely displease and hurt your feelings. I am also sure you will approve the part I have taken in it, which was to stay much at home with all the French gentlemen who are here, and declare, at the same time, that anything thrown before me against my nation I would take as the most particular affront.
Inclosed I send you the general orders of the 24th, upon which I thought I was obliged to pay a visit to General Sullivan, who has agreed to alter them in the following manner. Remember, my dear general, that I don't speak to the commander-in-chief, but to my friend, that I am far from complaining of anybody. I have no complaints at all to make you against any one; but I lament with you that I have had an occasion of seeing so ungenerous sentiments in American hearts.
I will tell you the true reason. The leaders of the expedition are, most of them, ashamed to return after having spoken of their Rhode Island success in proud terms before their family, their friends, their internal enemies. The others, regardless of the expense France has been put to by that fleet, of the tedious, tiresome voyage, which so many men have had for their service, though they are angry that the fleet takes three weeks, upon the whole campaign, to refit themselves, they cannot bear the idea of being brought to a small expense, to the loss of a little time, to the fatigue of staying some few days more in a camp at some few miles off their houses; for I am very far from looking upon the expedition as having miscarried, and there I see even a certainty of success.
If, as soon as the fleet is repaired, which (in case they are treated as one is in a country one is not at war with,) would be done in three weeks from this time, the Count d'Estaing was to come around, the expedition seems to offer a very good prospect. If the enemy evacuates New York, we have the whole continental army, if not, we might perhaps have some more men, what number, however, I cannot pretend to judge. All that I know is, that I shall be very happy to see the fleet cooperating with General Washington himself.
I think I shall be forced, by the board of general officers, to go soon to Boston. That I will do as soon as required, though with reluctance, for I do not believe that our position on this part of the island is without danger; but my principle is to do everything which is thought good for the service. I have very often rode express to the fleet, to the frigates, and that, I assure you, with the greatest pleasure; on the other hand, I may perhaps be useful to the fleet. Perhaps, too, it will be in the power of the count to do something which might satisfy them. I wish, my dear general, you could know as well as myself, how desirous the Count d'Estaing is to forward the public good, to help your success, and to serve the cause of America.
I earnestly beg you will recommend to the several chief persons of Boston to do everything they can to put the French fleet in a situation for sailing soon. Give me leave to add, that I wish many people, by the declaration of your sentiments in that affair, could learn how to regulate theirs, and blush at the sight of your generosity.
You will find my letter immense. I began it one day and finished it the next, as my time was swallowed up by those eternal councils of war. I shall have the pleasure of writing you from Boston. I am afraid the Count d'Estaing will have felt to the quick the behaviour of the people on this occasion. You cannot conceive how distressed he was to be prevented from serving this country for some time. I do assure you his circumstances were very critical and distressing.
For my part, my sentiments are known to the world. My tender affection for General Washington is added to them; therefore I want no apologies for writing upon what has afflicted me both as an American and as a Frenchman.
I am much obliged to you for the care you are so kind as to take of that poor horse of mine; had he not found such a good stable as this at headquarters, he would have cut a pitiful figure at the end of his travels, and I should have been too happy if there had remained so much of the horse as the bones, the skin, and the four shoes.
Farewell, my dear general; whenever I quit you, I meet with some disappointment and misfortune. I did not need it to desire seeing you as much as possible. With the most tender affection and high regard, I have the honour to be, &c.
Dear General,—I must add to my letter, that I have received one from General Greene, very different, from the expressions I have to complain of, he seems there very sensible of what I feel. I am very happy when placed in a situation to do justice to any one.
Endnote:
1. The circumstances which gave rise to this letter are mentioned in the memoirs. The following details will still further explain them:—
When the storm had dispersed his fleet, M. de Estaing wrote a very remarkable letter to General Sullivan, in which he explained to him the impossibility of remaining in sight of Rhode Island without danger, and without disobeying the precise orders of the king. He expressed his regret that the landing of the Americans in the island, which had been effected one day before the day agreed upon, should not have been protected by the vessels; and he rejected strongly the imputation of having blamed him under these circumstances for having operated so early, and with only two thousand men. To his great regret, his situation obliged him to answer the proposal of a combined attack, by a refusal. This answer excited much dissatisfaction amongst the Americans. Their officers signed a protestation, which appears to have been considered by some of them as the means of seconding the secret inclination of the admiral by forcing him to fight. The report was spread, in truth, that a cabal in the naval force alone obliged him to make a retreat, from a feeling of jealousy of the glory which he might have acquired, as he had belonged formerly to the land forces. This protestation was carried to him by Colonel Laurens; after a recapitulation of all the arguments which might be used against the departure of the fleet, it terminated by the solemn declaration that that measure was derogatory to the honour of France, contrary to the intentions of his V. C. Majesty, and to the interests of the American nation, &c. When this protestation was submitted to congress, they immediately ordered that it should be kept secret, and that M. Gérard should be informed of this order, which General Washington was charged with executing by every means in his power.
General Sullivan issued the following order at the same time:—
"It having been supposed, by some persons, that by the orders of the 21st instant, the commander-in-chief meant to insinuate that the departure of the French fleet was owing to a fixed determination not to assist in the present enterprise, and that, as the general did not wish to give the least colour to ungenerous and illiberal minds to make such an unfair interpretation, he thinks it necessary to say, that as he could not possibly be acquainted with the orders of the French admiral, he could not determine whether the removal of the fleet was absolutely necessary or not; and, therefore, did not mean to censure an act which those orders might render absolutely necessary." These details, borrowed from the edition of the writings of Washington, will explain some passages of this letter, and the sense of the following letters.