ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II

PAGE
Washington resigning his Commission as Commander-in-Chief[frontispiece]
Death of General Wolfeto face[30]
Stamp Act Riots„   [39]
Throwing the Taxed Tea into Boston Harbour„   [52]
General Burgoyne and the Indians„   [95]
Washington’s Reception at New York„   [219]
Washington taking Leave of the Army„   [220]
Tomb of Washington„   [283]

A POPULAR

HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES.

CHAPTER I.
COMMENCEMENT OF THE GREAT WARS.

In 1744, the disputed Austrian succession threw the whole of Europe into arms, and France and England were of course once more at war. In expectation of this event, when an invasion from Canada might be feared, New York fortified Albany and Oswego, and the friendship of the Six Nations was secured. This precaution was additionally necessary, as they had taken offence, owing to a collision which some of their people had come into with the backwoodsmen of Virginia. At a convention held at Lancaster, to which Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Maryland were parties, the Six Nations, with due oratory and ceremonial, relinquished all title to the valley of the Blue Ridge, the central chain of the Alleganies. The western frontiers thus secured, New England proposed a combination of the five northern colonies for their mutual defence, which New York declined, trusting to enjoy her former neutrality.

The war broke out. Fort Canso, in Nova Scotia, was taken by the French; Annapolis was besieged by a united force of Canadians and Indians; privateers issued from Louisburg, and the eastern Indians again attacked the frontiers of Maine. The northern provinces were routed, and Governor Shirley of Massachusetts resolved to attack Louisburg. Louisburg, the capital of Cape Breton, was called, from the strength of its fortifications, the Dunkirk of America. Its position was one of great importance, commanding the navigation of the St. Lawrence and the fisheries of the adjoining seas.

The scheme was a bold one, and Shirley applied to the British ministry for naval assistance, in the meantime laying open his views to the general assembly, after having first sworn all the members to secrecy. Six days were taken to deliberate upon it, and then the scheme was negatived as too hazardous and expensive. And so it might have ended, had not one of the members, during his evening devotions, been heard to pray for the success of the undertaking. The scheme got wind, and the populace approved; the plan was therefore again proposed in the council, and carried by one vote.

Troops were immediately raised by New England. Connecticut sent 500 men; Rhode Island and New Hampshire each 300; but those of Rhode Island did not arrive until Louisburg was taken. Pennsylvania, refusing troops, furnished provisions; and New York, £3,000, a quantity of provisions, and ten eighteen-pounders. The great burden of the war, of course, fell upon Massachusetts, who furnished an army of 3,250 men, with ten armed vessels,—all the fishermen, whose trade the war had interrupted, entering the service as volunteers. The command in chief was given to William Pepperell, a rich merchant in Maine, who was celebrated for his universal good fortune; and Whitfield, then preaching in New Hampshire, suggested as the motto of their flag, “Never despair with Christ for the captain;” and one of the army chaplains, a disciple of Whitfield, carried with him a hatchet, to hew down the images in the French chapels.[[1]]

An express sent to Commodore Warren, in the West Indies, requesting the co-operation of such ships as he could spare, returned with a negative answer just before the expedition was leaving Boston. Nothing daunted, however, they set sail, and approaching Cape Breton, were prevented from entering its harbours by the great quantity of floating ice. Returning then to Casco, they lay there for several days under a bright sky and in clear weather, and here were agreeably surprised by the arrival of a squadron from Commodore Warren, who had received subsequent orders to render all possible assistance. The next day, nine vessels from Connecticut joined them also, with the troops from that colony. On the 30th of April, the fleet, consisting of 100 vessels, entering Cape Breton, came in sight of Louisburg. This commanding fortress, the walls of which were forty feet thick at the base and from twenty to thirty feet high, was surrounded by a ditch eighty feet wide, and was furnished with 101 cannon, seventy-six swivels, and six mortars; its garrison numbered 1,600 men, and the harbour was defended by an island battery of thirty twenty-two pounders, and by the royal battery on the shore, having thirty large cannon, a moat, and bastions, all so perfect that it was supposed 200 men could defend it against 5,000. The assailants, on the contrary, had only eighteen cannon and three mortars. Reaching the shore, however, they effected a landing almost without opposition, and the following day Colonel Vaughan of New Hampshire led a detachment through the woods, past the city, which they greeted with three cheers. The French, at their approach, having spiked their guns, fled from the royal battery in the night, and the next morning Vaughan and thirteen of his men, having gained possession, defended it against the boats which were sent from Louisburg to retake it. Seth Pomroy, a gunsmith, and a major in one of the Massachusetts regiments, was now employed in the oversight of twenty smiths, who were employed in drilling the cannon; and in the meantime, and for fourteen nights in succession, the hardy besiegers were engaged in dragging their artillery over some miles of boggy morass impassable to wheels, and for the carriage of which a New Hampshire colonel, a carpenter, constructed sledges, which the men, with straps over their shoulders and midleg-deep in mud, drew safely over. Five unsuccessful attempts were made on a battery which defended the town, and the troops, insufficiently provided with tents and other comforts, suffered severely in that cold and foggy climate. But nothing could daunt their ardour. Seth Pomroy, the gunsmith-major, wrote to his wife: “Louisburg is an exceedingly strong place, and seems impregnable. It looks as if our campaign would last long; but I am willing to stay till God’s time comes to deliver the city into our hands.” And his wife replied in the same resolute spirit: “Suffer no anxious thoughts to rest in your mind about me. The whole town is much engaged with concern for the expedition, how Providence will order the affair, for which religious meetings every week are maintained. I leave you in the hand of God.”

At length it was resolved that the fleet should enter the harbour and bombard the city, whilst the land forces attempted to scale the walls. Whilst this was under meditation, a French ship of sixty-four guns, laden with supplies, was taken, after an active engagement, within sight of the town. Fortunately for the besiegers, disaffection prevailed within the walls, and the governor, dispirited by this success of the enemy, sent out a flag of truce and offers of capitulation. On the forty-ninth day of the siege, Louisburg surrendered, together with the island of Cape Breton. When the conquerors entered the city and beheld the strength of the works, their very hearts sunk within them at the greatness of their undertaking; “God has gone out of the way of his common providence,” said they, “to incline the hearts of the French to give up this strong city into our hands.”

The loss of Louisburg exasperated the French nation, and a powerful armament was fitted out to ravage, in return, the whole coast of North America; but Providence again interfered in their behalf; the fleet, under the Duke d’Anville, was scattered and destroyed by storms and wreck, and, to complete its misfortunes, the commander died suddenly, and his successor, in a fit of delirium, committed suicide. The following year, a second fleet, sent out for the same purpose, was taken by Anson and Warren.

The capture of Louisburg was not less a cause of rejoicing in England than in the colonies. Pepperell was made a baronet, and commissioned as a colonel in the British army, and Warren promoted to the rank of rear-admiral. The report of Warren, however, as regarded the New England people, only confirmed the suspicions which were entertained of them at home. “They have,” said he, “the highest notions of the rights and liberties of Englishmen, and, indeed, are almost levellers.”

The Canadian French retaliated immediately for their loss, by attacking the English frontiers and taking several outposts, but no great damage was done. This success revived the favourite scheme of the conquest of Canada, and England, as well as the colonies, began active preparations for carrying it out. In Pennsylvania, where hitherto peace principles had been very carefully maintained, an active military spirit, excited by Benjamin Franklin, who now, after twenty years of industry, had acquired a handsome property, prevailed. “He was the originator,” says Logan, “of two lotteries, that raised above £6,000 to pay for the charge of the batteries on the river, and he found out a way to put the country on raising above 120 companies of militia, of which Philadelphia raised ten, or about 100 men each. The women, too, were so zealous that they furnished ten pair of silk colours, wrought with various mottoes.” Logan, himself a Quaker, though not a strict one, was highly satisfied, as he says, with “Benjamin Franklin for contriving the militia,” and he adds, that, “Franklin, when elected to the command of a regiment, declined the distinction, and carried a musket among the common soldiers.”

The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, however, put an end to all these ambitious schemes of conquest, and the mutual restoration of all places taken during the war being one of its conditions, Cape Breton and Louisburg, to the grief and mortification of the northern colonies, were returned to France. The only thing which consoled Massachusetts for this loss was, that the British indemnified her for the expenses of this last enterprise, to the amount of £183,000, a very welcome boon, when her finances were suffering the most serious embarrassment, owing to her extensive issues of paper money and the depreciation of the currency. It was proposed by Thomas Hutchinson, grandson of the celebrated Anne Hutchinson, and now a wealthy merchant of Boston, and speaker of the House of Representatives, that the money thus granted should be imported in silver, and applied to redeem, at its current value, all the outstanding paper. This was done, and for a quarter of a century, says Hildreth, Massachusetts enjoyed the blessing of a sound currency.

It was just at this time when a great inroad was attempted on the rigidity of the Puritan manners, by the attempt of some young Englishmen at Boston to introduce theatrical entertainments. The play first announced was Otway’s Orphan, but it proceeded no further than announcement, such exhibitions being at once prohibited, “as tending to discourage industry and frugality, and greatly to the increase of impiety and contempt for religion.” Connecticut immediately followed the example; neither would she suffer such Babylonish pursuits. Two years afterwards, a London company of actors came over, and acted the Beau’s Stratagem and Merchant of Venice, at Annapolis and Williamsburg in Virginia. Connecticut and Massachusetts being closed against them, they confined their labours to Annapolis, Williamsburg, Philadelphia, Perth-Amboy, New York and Newport.

The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle left the great causes of difference, the undefined limits of the French and English claims in America, still unsettled. The French, by virtue of the discoveries of La Salle, Marquette, Champlain and others, claimed all the lands occupied by the waters flowing into the St. Lawrence, the Mississippi and the Lakes, and all watered by the Mississippi and its branches. In fact, they claimed the whole of America, except that portion which lies east of the Allegany chain, the rivers of which flow into the Atlantic, and even of this they claimed the basin of the Kennebec and all Maine to the east of that valley. The British on the contrary, asserted a right to the entire country, on account of the discovery of Cabot, extending their claims under the old patents with more than equal extravagance, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. To strengthen this title, they had lately purchased from the chiefs of the confederated Six Nations, acknowledged by the treaties of Utrecht and Aix-la-Chapelle as being under British protection, their claim to the country of the Mississippi, which, it was stated, had at some former period been conquered by them.

The French, as we have already said, had in part carried out their plan of a chain of forts, to connect their more recent settlements on the Mississippi with their earlier ones on the St. Lawrence, when in 1750 a number of gentlemen of Virginia, among whom was Lawrence Washington, the grandfather of the celebrated George, applied to the British parliament for an act for incorporating “the Ohio Company,” and granting them 600,000 acres of land on the Ohio river. This was done; the tract was surveyed, and trade commenced with the Indians. The jealousy of the French was roused; and the Marquis du Quesne, governor of Canada, complained to the authorities of New York and Pennsylvania, threatening to seize their traders if they did not quit this territory. The trade went on as before, and the French carried out their threat, burning the village of an Indian tribe which refused submission, and seizing the English traders and their merchandise; and the following year the number and importance of the French forts was increased.

Robert Dinwiddie, at that time royal governor of Virginia, alarmed at those violent proceedings, purchased permission of the Indians on the Monongahala to build a fort on the junction of that river with the Allegany, and determined to send a trusty messenger to the French commandant at Venango, to require explanation and the release of the captured traders. It was late in the season, and the embassy demanded both courage and wisdom. A young man of two-and-twenty, a major in the militia, and by profession a land-surveyor, and who when only sixteen had been employed as such by Lord Fairfax on his property in the Northern Neck, was selected for this service. This young man was George Washington.

The journey, about 400 miles through the untracked forest, and at the commencement of winter, though full of peril and wild adventure, was performed successfully. Washington was well received by the commandant, St. Pierre, who promised, after two days’ deliberation, to transmit his message to his superiors in Canada; and all unconscious of the present or future importance of their guest, who was making accurate observations as to the strength of the fort, the French officers revealed to him, over their wine, the intentions of France to occupy the whole country.

The reply of St. Pierre, the contents of which were not known till opened at Williamsburg, leaving no doubt of the hostile intentions of the French, Dinwiddie began immediately to prepare for resistance, promising to the officers and soldiers of the Virginian army 200,000 acres of land to be divided amongst them, as an encouragement to enlist. A regiment of 600 men, of which Washington was appointed lieutenant-colonel, marched in the month of April, 1754, into the disputed territory, and, encamping at the Great Meadows, were met by alarming intelligence; the French had driven the Virginians from a fort which, owing to his own recommendation, they were building at “the Fork,” the place where Pittsburg now stands, between the junction of the Monongahala and the Allegany, the importance of which position he had become aware of on his journey to Venango. This fort the French had now finished, and had called Du Quesne, in honour of the governor-general; besides which, a detachment sent against him were encamped at a few miles distance. Washington proceeded, surprised the enemy, and killed the commander, Jumonville—the first blood shed in this war.

On his return to the Great Meadows, Washington was joined by the troops from New York and South Carolina, and here erected a fort, which he called Fort Necessity. Frye, the colonel, being now dead, the chief command devolved upon Washington, who very shortly set out towards Du Quesne, when he was compelled to return and entrench himself within Fort Necessity, owing to the approach of a very superior force under De Villier, the brother of Jumonville. After a day of hard fighting, the fort itself was surrendered, on condition of the garrison being permitted to retire unmolested. A singular circumstance occurred in this capitulation: Washington, who did not understand French, employed a Dutchman as his interpreter, and he, either from ignorance or treachery, rendered the terms of the capitulation incorrectly; thus Washington signed an acknowledgment of having “assassinated” Jumonville, and engaged not again to appear in arms against the French within twelve months.

Hitherto, the intercolonial wars had originated in European quarrels; now, the causes of dispute existed in the colonies themselves, and were derivable from the growing importance of these American possessions to the mother-countries; the approaching war, in consequence, assumed an interest to the colonies which no former war had possessed. It was now, therefore, proposed by the British cabinet that a union should be formed among the colonies for their mutual protection and support, and that the friendship of the Six Nations should be immediately secured. Accordingly a congress was convened at Albany, in June, 1754, at which delegates appeared from New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut; Delaney, governor of New York, being the president. A treaty of peace was signed with the Six Nations, and the convention entered upon the subject of the great union, a plan for which had been drawn up by Benjamin Franklin, the delegate from Pennsylvania, and which was carefully discussed, clause by clause, in the assembly. Both William Penn, in 1697, and Coxe in his “Carolana,” had proposed a similar annual congress of all the colonies for the regulation of trade, and these were the bases of Franklin’s plan of union.

This plan proposed the establishment of a general government in the colonies, the administration of which should be placed in the hands of a governor-general appointed by the crown, and a council of forty-eight members, representatives of the several provinces, “having the power to levy troops, declare war, raise money, make peace, regulate the Indian trade and concert all other measures necessary for the general safety; the governor-general being allowed a negative on the proceedings of the council, and all laws to be ratified by the king.” This plan was signed by all the delegates excepting the one from Connecticut, who objected to a negative being allowed to the governor-general, on the 4th of July, the day on which Fort Necessity was surrendered, and the very day twenty-two years before the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

This scheme of union was, however, rejected by all the colonial assemblies, on the plea of giving too much power to the crown; and, strange to say, was rejected likewise by the crown, because it gave too much power to the people. The colonial union, therefore, being at an end for the present, it was proposed by the British ministry that money should be furnished for the carrying on of the war by England, to be reimbursed by a tax on the colonies. This scheme, however, the colonies strongly opposed, being averse, argued Massachusetts, to everything that shall have the remotest tendency to raise a revenue in America for any public use or purpose of government. It was, therefore, finally agreed to carry on the war with British troops, aided by such auxiliaries as the colonial assemblies would voluntarily furnish. These pending territorial disputes led to the publication of more complete maps, whereby the position and danger of the British colonies were more clearly understood. The British colonies occupied about a thousand miles of the Atlantic coast, but their extent inland was limited; the population amounted to about 1,500,000. New France, on the contrary, contained a population not exceeding 100,000, scattered over a vast expanse of territory from Cape Breton to the mouth of the Mississippi, though principally collected on the St. Lawrence. The very remoteness of the French settlements, separated from the English by unexplored forests and mountains, placed them in comparative security, while the whole western frontier of the English, from Maine to Georgia, was exposed to attacks of the Indians, disgusted by constant encroachments and ever ready for war.[[2]]

While negotiations were being carried on with France for the adjustment of the territorial quarrel, the establishment of French posts on the Ohio and the attack on Washington being regarded as the commencement of hostilities, General Braddock was selected as the American major-general, under the Duke of Cumberland, commander-in-chief of the British army. Braddock was a man of despotic temper, intrepid in action, and severe as a disciplinarian; and as the duke had no confidence in any but regular troops, it was ordered that the general and field officers of the colonial forces should be of subordinate rank when serving with the commissioned officers of the king. Washington, on his return from the Great Meadows, found Dinwiddie re-organising the Virginia militia, and that, according to the late orders, he himself was lowered to the rank of captain, on which he indignantly retired from the service.

In February, 1755, Braddock, with two British regiments, arrived in Chesapeake Bay, the colonies having levied forces in preparation, and a tax being already imposed on wine and spirituous liquors, spite of the general opposition to such imposts, and which excited a very general discontent, each family being required on oath to state the quantity consumed by themselves each year, and thus either to perjure or to tax themselves. This unpopular tax gave rise to several newspapers, the first newspaper of Connecticut dating from this time.

Braddock having arrived, a convention of colonial governors met at Alexandria, in Virginia, to concert the plan of action, when four expeditions were determined upon. Lawrence, the lieutenant-governor of Nova Scotia, was to reduce that province; General Johnson, from his long acquaintance with the Six Nations, was selected to enrol the Mohawk warriors in British pay, and conduct an army of Indians and provincial militia against Crown Point; Governor Shirley was to do the same against Niagara; while Braddock was to attack Fort Du Quesne, and thus recover the Ohio Valley and take possession of the North West.

Soon after Braddock sailed, the French sent out a fleet with a large body of troops under the veteran Baron Dieskau, to reinforce the army in Canada. Although England at this time had avowed only the design of resisting encroachment on her territory, Boscawen was sent out to cruise on the banks of Newfoundland, where he took two of the French ships; of the remainder, some aided by fog, and others by altering their course, arrived safely at Quebec and Louisburg; at the same time, De Vaudreuil, a Canadian by birth, and formerly governor of Louisiana, arrived and superseded Du Quesne as governor of Canada.

Three thousand men sailed from Boston under Lieutenant-colonel Winslow, on the 29th of May, for the expedition against Nova Scotia. This Winslow was the great-grandson of the Plymouth patriarch, and grandson of the commander of the New England forces in King Philip’s war; he was a major-general in the Massachusetts militia, and now, under the British commander-in-chief, was reduced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. At Chignecto, in the Bay of Fundy, he was joined by Colonel Monckton with 300 British regulars, and advancing against the French forts at Beau Sejour and Gaspereau, took possession of them in five days, after slight resistance; and no sooner did the English fleet appear in the St. John’s, than the French, setting fire to their fort at the mouth of that river, evacuated the country. The English thus, with the loss of about twenty men, found themselves in possession of the whole of Nova Scotia: when great difficulty arose, what was to be done with the people?

Acadia was the oldest French colony in America, having been settled by Bretons sixteen years before the landing of the pilgrim fathers. Thirty years before the commencement of the present war, the treaty of Utrecht had ceded Acadia to Great Britain, yet the settlement remained French in spirit, character, and religion. By the terms granted to them when the British took possession, they were excused from bearing arms against France, and were thence known as “French Neutrals.” From the time of the Peace of Utrecht, they appear, however, almost to have been forgotten, until the present war brought them, to their great misfortune, back to remembrance. Their life had been one of Arcadian peace and simplicity; neither tax-gatherer nor magistrate was seen among them; their parish priests, sent over from Canada, were their supreme head. By unwearied labour they had secured the rich alluvial marshes from the rivers and sea, and their wealth consisted in flocks and herds. Their houses, gathered in hamlets, were full of the comforts and simple luxuries of their position; their clothing was warm, abundant, and home-made, spun and wove from the flax of their fields and the fleeces of their flocks. Thus were the Acadians prosperous and happy as one great family of love. Their population, which had doubled within the last thirty years, amounted at this time to about 2,000.

Unfortunately, these good Acadians had not strictly adhered to their character of neutrals; 300 of their young men had been taken in arms at Beau Sejour, and one of their priests was detected as an active French agent. It was resolved, therefore, to remove them from their present position, in which they had every opportunity of aiding the French. Lawrence, lieutenant-governor of Nova Scotia, Boscawen, and Mostyn, commanders of the British fleet, consulted with Belcher, chief-justice of the province, and the result was a scheme of kidnapping and conveying them to the various British provinces, although at the capitulation of Beau Sejour it had been strictly provided that the neighbouring inhabitants should not be disturbed. But no matter; they must be got rid of, for there was no secure possession for the English while they, bound by all the ties of language, affection, and religion to France, remained there. A sadder incident of wholesale outrage hardly occurs in history than this. The design was kept strictly secret, lest the people, excited by despair, should rise en masse against their oppressors. Obeying the command, therefore, to assemble at their parish churches, they were surrounded by soldiers, taken prisoners and marched off, without ceremony, to the ships, for transportation. At Grand Pré, for example, says Bancroft, 418 unarmed men came together, when Winslow, the American commander, addressed them, as follows: “Your lands and tenements, cattle of all kinds, and live stock of all sorts, are forfeited to the crown, and you yourselves are to be removed from this province. I am, through, his Majesty’s goodness, directed to allow you to carry off your money, and your household goods, as many as you can without discommoding the vessels you go in.” They were the king’s prisoners; their wives and families shared their lot; their sons, 527 in number; their daughters, 576; the whole, including women and babes, old men and children, amounting to about 2,000 souls. They had left home in the morning; they were never to return. Wonderful it seems, that Heaven left such an outrage on humanity unavenged on the spot!

The 10th of September was the day of transportation. They were marched down to the vessels six abreast; the young men first, driven forward by the bayonet, but not a weapon was allowed to them. It was a scene of heart-breaking misery, and in the confusion of embarkation, wives were separated from their husbands, parents from their children, never to meet again! It was two months before the last of the unhappy people were conveyed away, and in the meantime many fled to the woods; but even this availed nothing, the pitiless conquerors had already destroyed the harvests, to compel their surrender, and burnt their former homes to the ground.

A quota of these poor, unhappy people were sent to every British North American colony, where, broken-hearted and disconsolate, they became burdens on the public charity, and failed not to excite pity by their misery, spite of the hatred to them as Catholics and the exasperation produced by the protracted war. Some few made their way to France; others to Canada, St. Domingo, and Louisiana; and to those who reached the latter country, lands were assigned above New Orleans, still known as the Acadian coast. A number of those sent to Georgia constructed rude boats, and endeavoured to return to their beloved homes in the Bay of Fundy. Generally speaking, they died in exile, the victims of dejection and despair.

It will be remembered by our readers, doubtless, that one of the finest poems which America has produced, “Evangeline,” by Longfellow, is founded on this cruel and unjustifiable outrage on humanity.

The English, in the meantime, as if their arms were not to be blessed, had met with a severe repulse in their attempt to drive the French from the Ohio. Braddock’s troops landed at Alexandria, a small town at the mouth of the Potomac, early in June; and Colonel Washington, being permitted to retain his rank in consequence of the reputation he had already attained, joined the expedition soon after. Braddock made very light of the whole campaign; being stopped at the commencement of his march, for want of horses and wagons, he told Benjamin Franklin, that after having taken Fort Du Quesne, whither he was hastening, he should proceed to Niagara, and having taken that, to Frontenac. “Du Quesne,” said he, “will not detain me above three or four days, and then I see nothing which can obstruct my march to Niagara.” Franklin calmly replied, that the Indians were dexterous in laying and executing ambuscades. “The savages,” replied Braddock, “may he formidable to your raw American militia; upon the king’s regulars it is impossible that they should make any impression.”

Among the wagoners, whom the energy of Franklin obtained, was Daniel Morgan, famous as a village wrestler, who had emigrated as a day-labourer from New Jersey to Virginia, and who, having saved his wages, was now the owner of a team, all unconscious of his future greatness.[[3]] By the advice of Washington, owing to the difficulty of obtaining horses and wagons, the heavy baggage was left under the care of Colonel Dunbar, with an escort of 600 men; and Braddock, at the head of 1,300 picked men, proceeded forward more rapidly. Fort Du Quesne, in the meantime, was receiving reinforcements.

Braddock was by no means deficient in courage or military skill, but he was wholly ignorant of the mode of conducting warfare amid American woods and morasses; and to make this deficiency the greater, he undervalued the American troops, nor would profit by the opinions and experience of American officers. Washington urged the expediency of employing the Indians, who, under the well-known chief Half-king, had already offered their services as scouts and advance parties; but Braddock rejected both the advice and this offered aid, and that so rudely that Half-king himself and his Indians were seriously offended.

It was now the 9th of July, and the governor of Du Quesne almost gave up his fort as lost; for Braddock and his army were that morning only twelve miles distant. Washington, about noon riding a little a-head, looked back from the height above the right bank of the Monongahala, and beheld the advanced guard of regulars, headed by Lieutenant-colonel Gage, advancing, with all the glitter of their brilliant uniform, into an open wood. At that moment the Indian war-whoop sounded, and they were fired upon from all quarters by an invisible foe. The assailants, about 200 French and 600 Indians, hidden in some ravines on each side of the road and amid the long grass, poured in a deadly fire: the British troops, seized with sudden panic, were thrown into hopeless confusion, and would have fled, but that Braddock rallied them and exerted himself to the utmost to restore order. Succeeding in part, and preserving something like the order of battle, the horrors of the moment were increased; for his men, “penned like sheep in a fold,” were the better mark for the invisible enemy, who themselves, expecting merely to harass, never hoping to defeat, were astonished at their own success. The Indians, singling out the officers, shot down every one; of eighty-six officers, twenty-six were killed and thirty-seven wounded; of the men one-half were killed or wounded. Washington alone seemed to be preserved as by an especial Providence. In vain the Indian singled him out also as a mark for his rifle; no bullet took his life, though two horses were shot under him, and four bullets, after the battle, were found lodged in his coat. Well might the savage exclaim, “Some powerful Manitou guards his life!” This singular preservation of the young Washington, in the midst of death, attracted the attention of all. “I cannot but hope,” said a learned divine, a month afterwards, “that Providence has preserved that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, in so especial a manner for some important service to his country.” And in England Lord Halifax inquired, “Who is this Mr. Washington? I know nothing of him; but they say that he behaved in Braddock’s action as bravely as if he loved the whistling of bullets.”

Braddock remained undismayed amid the shower of bullets; five horses were shot under him, and at length a ball entering his right side, he fell mortally wounded. With difficulty he was borne off the field; for many hours he remained silent; towards evening he said, “Who would have thought it?” On the 12th, Braddock being conveyed to Dunbar’s camp, the remaining artillery was destroyed, the public stores and heavy baggage burnt, to the value of £100,000, Dunbar assigning as the reason, the dying general’s commands. The next day they retreated, and the same night Braddock died; his last words being, “We shall know better how to deal with them another time.” His grave may still be seen near the public road, about a mile west of Fort Necessity.[[4]]

Philadelphia was preparing for the triumph of victory, when the news of this shameful defeat reached the city, in the arrival of Dunbar, on whom the command had now devolved. The whole frontier of Virginia was thus left open to the depredations of the French and Indians. The French at Fort Du Quesne endeavoured to withdraw the Cherokees from their fidelity to the English, and news of this reaching the ears of Glen, governor of South Carolina, a council of Cherokee chiefs was called, the covenant of peace was renewed, and the cession of a large tract of land in South Carolina was obtained.

The expedition against Niagara was entrusted to Governor Shirley, who now, by the death of Braddock, was commander-in-chief of the British forces. It was intended that the troops destined for this service should assemble at Oswego, whence they were to proceed by water to the mouth of the Niagara. The march, however, was one of extreme difficulty, the troops being disabled by sickness and disheartened by the news of Braddock’s defeat; and when after six weeks it was accomplished, various adverse circumstances, violent winds and rains, and the desertion of their Indian allies, rendered it unadvisable for them to proceed. Two strong forts were, however, erected, and vessels built in preparation for their embarkation.

The troops destined for the expedition against Crown Point, consisting principally of the militia of Connecticut and Massachusetts, were entrusted to General (afterwards Sir William) Johnson. In June and July, about 6,000 New England men, having Phineas Lyman as their major-general, reached the portage between Hudson River and Lake George, where they constructed a fort called Fort Lyman, afterwards Fort Edward. Here they were joined by General Johnson, with about 3,400 irregulars and Indians, towards the end of August, when he assumed command and advanced towards Lake George. Dieskau, in the meantime, having ascended Lake Champlain with 2,000 men from Montreal, was now pushing on to Fort Lyman, when, altering his route, probably at the request of his Indian allies, who dreaded the English artillery, he suddenly attacked the camp of Johnson. Already informed of his intended attack on Fort Edward, Johnson had sent out 1,000 Massachusetts men, under Ephraim Williams, and a body of Mohawk warriors, under a famous chief called Hendricks, for the purpose of intercepting their return. Unfortunately, however, this detachment fell in with the whole force of Dieskau’s army in a narrow defile, and were driven back with great slaughter, Williams and Hendricks being soon slain. It was this Williams who, when passing through Albany, made his will, leaving his property, in case of his death, to found a Free School for Western Massachusetts, which is now the Williams College; a better monument, as Hildreth justly observes, than any victory would have been. The loss of the enemy was also considerable.

The firing being heard in the camp of Johnson, the repulse of Williams was suspected. A breast-work of felled trees was therefore hastily constructed, and a few cannon mounted, which had just been brought up from Fort Edward; and scarcely had the fugitives reached the camp, when the enemy appeared, who met with so warm a reception from the newly-planted cannon, that the Canadian troops and the Indians soon fled, greatly to the chagrin of Dieskau. Johnson, being early wounded, retired from the fight, and the New Englanders, under their own officers, fought bravely for five hours. It was a terrible day for the French; nearly all their regulars perished, and Dieskau was mortally wounded, though he still refused to retire. Two Canadians, who wished to carry him from the field, were shot dead at his side, and he himself soon after, being found seated on the stump of a tree, was wantonly shot by a renegade Frenchman. A small remnant fled, only to be pursued by a detachment from Fort Edward. Instead of pursuing his advantage, Johnson spent the autumn in erecting a fort on the site of his encampment, called Fort William Henry; and the season being late, dispersed his army to their respective provinces. In the meantime the French were strengthening their position at Crown Point, and fortifying Ticonderoga. These actions are known as the battle of Lake George.

Benjamin Franklin having about this time published an account of the rapid increase of population in the United States, the attention of England was turned to the immensely growing power of her colonies. Let us hear the reasoning of the two parties on this subject. “I have found,” said the royal governor, Shirley, who had been appealed to, “that the calculations are right. The number of the inhabitants is doubled every twenty years.” He admitted that the demand for British manufactures and the employment of shipping increased in an equal ratio; also that the sagacity which had been displayed in the plan of union proposed at the late congress at Albany, might justly excite the fear of England, lest the colonists should throw off their dependence on the mother-country and set up a government of their own. But, added he, let it be considered how various are the present constitutions of their respective governments; how much their interests clash, and how opposed their tempers are, and any coalition among them will be found to be impossible. “At all events,” said he, “they could not maintain such an independency without a strong naval force, which it must ever be in the power of Great Britain to prevent. Besides, the 7,000 troops which his Majesty has in America, and the Indians at command, provided the provincial governors do their duty and are maintained independent of the assemblies, may easily prevent any such step being taken.”

The royal governor of Virginia, Dinwiddie, urged upon parliament his plan of a general land and poll tax, begging, however, that the plan might come entirely as from them; he urged also the subversion of charter-governments, arguing that all would remain in a distracted condition until his majesty took the proprietary government into his own hands. Another advised that Duke William of Cumberland should be sent out as sovereign of the united provinces of British America, on the plea that in a few years the colonies of America would be independent of Britain.

These fears were prophetic of the future, and indeed were but an echo of the popular sentiment. Franklin was thinking, and acting, and scattering abroad words, which were winged seeds of liberty; Washington was already doing great deeds; and John Adams, then the young teacher of a New England free school, was giving words to ideas which thousands besides himself were prepared to turn into deeds. “All creation,” said he, “is liable to change; mighty states are not exempted. Soon after the Reformation, a few people came out here for conscience sake. This apparently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. If we can remove these turbulent Gallics, our people, according to the exactest calculation, will in another century become more numerous than England itself. All Europe will not be able to subdue us. The only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves, is to disunite us.” They had learnt already that union was strength.

CHAPTER II.
PROGRESS OF THE WAR—THE CONQUEST OF CANADA.

The plan of the campaign for 1756, arranged by a convention of provincial governors at New York, was similar to that of the preceding year: the reduction of Crown Point, Niagara and Fort Du Quesne. The enrolling of volunteer militia went on; Benjamin Franklin being active for this purpose in Pennsylvania, and he himself now assuming military command as a colonel on the frontier from the Delaware to the Maryland line. The frontiers of Virginia continued to suffer severely, though Washington, with 1,500 volunteers, did his utmost for their protection. It was difficult to obtain a larger volunteer force, on account, said Dinwiddie, writing to the Board of Trade on this subject, “of our not daring to part with any of our white men to a distance, as we must have a watch over our negro-slaves.”

The war had now continued two years without any formal declaration of hostilities between Great Britain and France. In May, however, of this year it was made.

In June, General Abercrombie, who superseded Shirley, arrived with two regiments from England, and proceeded to Albany, where the provincial troops and the remains of Braddock’s army were already assembled—short of provisions, however, and suffering from small-pox. Abercrombie, deeming his forces insufficient for the proposed campaign, determined to wait for the arrival of Lord Loudon, now appointed commander-in-chief. This occasioned a delay until the end of July. In the meantime, the French, under the Marquis of Montcalm, successor to the Baron Dieskau, taking advantage of the tardiness of the English, had made an attack on Fort Oswego, which it had been intended to reinforce with a regiment of regulars under General Webb; but it was then too late; the Forts Oswego and Ontario were taken, and Webb retired precipitately to Albany. Upwards of 1,000 men, 135 pieces of artillery, a great amount of stores, and a fleet of boats and small vessels built the year before for the Niagara expedition, fell into the hands of Montcalm.

To gratify the Six Nations, and induce them to assume a position of neutrality, Montcalm destroyed the forts, after which he returned to Canada. These disasters were as discouraging as the defeat of Braddock had been in the former year. The march to Ticonderoga was abandoned, and Forts Edward and William Henry were ordered to be strengthened. Feebleness and incapacity characterised the campaign. The Indians, incited by the French, renewed their border depredations; and the Quakers incurred no inconsiderable ignominy by persisting to advocate the cause of the Indians, holding conferences with them and forming treaties of peace. But though these measures were against the spirit of the time, they persevered, and succeeded in thus defending the frontiers of Pennsylvania as well as some of the other colonies by force of arms.

On July 9, 1757, Loudon sailed with 6,000 regulars against Louisburg, the important stronghold of the North, as Fort Du Quesne was of the West, and on the 13th reached Halifax, where he was reinforced by eleven sail of the line, under Admiral Holbourn, with 6,000 additional troops. Nothing, however, was done; for on learning that Louisburg was garrisoned by 6,000 men, and that a large French fleet lay in her harbour, the expedition was abandoned, and Loudon returned to New York. In the meantime, Montcalm, combining his forces from Ticonderoga and Crown Point, amounting to 9,000, with 2,000 Indians, ascended Lake George, and laid siege to Fort William Henry, which was at that time commanded by Colonel Munro, with upwards of 2,000 men, while Colonel Webb was stationed at Fort Edward, only fifteen miles distant, with 5,000. For six days the garrison made a brave resistance, until the ammunition being exhausted, and no relief coming from Fort Edward, Munro capitulated; honourable terms being granted, “on account,” said the capitulation, “of their honourable defence.” But the terms were not kept. The Indians attached to Montcalm’s army fell upon the retiring British, plundering their baggage and murdering them in cold blood. Munro and a part of his men retreated for protection to the French camp; great numbers fled to the woods, where they suffered extremely; many were never more heard of.

In the civil history of the colonies there is very little to chronicle during this period. In Pennsylvania a dispute arose respecting the rights of the proprietaries to exempt their own lands from taxes raised for the defence of those lands. Benjamin Franklin visited England in consequence, and the question was decided by the proprietaries yielding on certain conditions. In Georgia, also, arose a dispute in which the Creek Indians took a lively interest, as it grew out of the claims of that Mary Musgrove, the Indian interpreter, who had materially aided Oglethorpe on his arrival in that country. Mary had now married, for her third husband, Thomas Bosomworth, Oglethorpe’s former agent for Indian affairs, but who, having taken orders in England, had returned as successor of Wesley and Whitfield, and claimed the islands on the coast and a tract of land above Savannah, which the Creeks had made over to her, as well as twelve years’ arrears of salary as Indian interpreter. The dispute, after having continued twelve years, was settled at this time to the entire satisfaction of Mary and her nation. The island of St. Catherine was secured to her and her husband, and £2,000 paid in liquidation of her other demands. Georgia was also, about the same time, divided into parishes, and the Church of England established by law.

The unfortunate results of the campaigns of 1756–7 were extremely humiliating to England, and so strong was the feeling against the ministry and their measures, that a change was necessary. A new administration was formed, at the head of which was William Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham; Lord Loudon was recalled; additional forces were raised in America, and a large naval armament and 12,000 additional troops were promised. After this great expenditure of money and of blood on the part of the English, the French still held all the disputed territory. The English were still in possession of the Bay of Fundy, it is true; but Louisburg, commanding the entrance of the St. Lawrence, Crown Point and Ticonderoga on Lake Champlain, Frontenac and Niagara on Lake Ontario, Presque Island on Lake Erie, and the chain of posts thence to the Ohio, were still in the hands of the French. They had driven the English from Fort Oswego and Lake George, and had compelled the Six Nations to neutrality. A devastating war was raging along the whole north-western frontier; scalping parties advanced to the very centre of Massachusetts; to within a short distance of Philadelphia, and kept Maryland and Virginia in perpetual alarm.[[5]]

The campaign of 1758 began in earnest. Pitt addressed a circular to the colonies, demanding at least 20,000 men; the crown undertook to provide arms, ammunition, tents and provisions; the colonies were to raise, clothe and pay the levies, but were to be reimbursed by parliament. This energetic impulse was cheerfully responded to. Massachusetts voted 7,000 men, besides such as were needed for frontier defence. The advances of Massachusetts during the year amounted to about £250,000. Individual Boston merchants paid taxes to the amount of £500. The tax on real estate amounted to 13s. 4d. in the pound. Connecticut voted 5,000 men; New Hampshire and Rhode Island a regiment of 500 men each; New Jersey 1,000; Pennsylvania appropriated £100,000 for bringing 2,700 men into the field; Virginia raised 2,000. To co-operate with these colonial levies, the Royal Americans were recalled from Canada, and large reinforcements were sent from England. Abercrombie, the new commander-in-chief, found 50,000 men at his disposal—a greater number than the whole male population of New France. The total number of Canadians able to bear arms was 20,000; the regular troops amounted to about 5,000; besides which, the constant occupation of war had caused agriculture to be neglected. Canada was at this time almost in a state of famine.[[6]] “I shudder,” wrote Montcalm to the French government, in February 1758, “when I think of provisions. The famine is very great; New France needs peace, or sooner or later it must fall; so great is the number of the English; so great our difficulty in obtaining supplies.” The French army, and the whole of Canada, were put on restricted allowance of food.

The campaign, as we have said, began in earnest; there was no trifling, no delay. Three simultaneous expeditions were decided upon; against Louisburg, Ticonderoga, and Fort Du Quesne. The possession of Louisburg was deemed very important, as opening the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and thus admitting the English at once to the capital of Canada. In June, Boscawen appeared before Louisburg with thirty-eight ships of war, convoying an army of 14,000 men, chiefly regulars, under General Amherst, but including a considerable body of New England troops. The siege commenced. It was here that General Wolfe first distinguished himself in America; his amiable disposition and calm, clear judgment early won the esteem and admiration of the colonists. Here, also, served Isaac Barre, raised by Wolfe from a subaltern position to the rank of major of brigade. The siege was conducted with great skill and energy, and on the 27th of July, this celebrated fortress was in the hands of the English, and with it the islands of Cape Breton, Prince Edward’s Island and their dependencies. The garrison became prisoners of war; the inhabitants were shipped off to France. Such was the end of the French power on the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

While the siege of Louisburg was going forward, General Abercrombie, with 16,000 men and a great force of artillery, advanced against Ticonderoga and Crown Point. On the 16th of July, having embarked at Fort William Henry, he advanced down Lake George, and landing near the northern extremity of the lake, the march commenced through a thick wood towards the fort, which Montcalm held with about 4,000 men. Unfortunately, the vanguard—headed by the young and gallant Lord Howe, who, like Wolfe, had already gained the enthusiastic affection of the Americans—ignorant of the ground, lost their way and fell in with a French scouting party, when a skirmish took place, and though the enemy was driven back, Lord Howe fell. The grief of the provincial troops, and, indeed, of the whole northern colonies, was very great for the loss of this brave young man, to whose memory Massachusetts afterwards erected a monument in Westminster Abbey.[[7]]

The death of Lord Howe is said to have considerably abated the ardour of the troops; nevertheless, Abercrombie, without waiting for the coming up of his artillery, hastened on the attack of Ticonderoga, having been assured that the works were unfinished, and that it might easily be taken. The result, however, proved the contrary. The breast-work was of great strength, and defended by felled trees, their branches sharpened, and pointing outwards like spears. The utmost intrepidity, however, was shown in the attack; but, with the loss of about 2,000 killed and wounded, Abercrombie was repulsed, and the next day made a disorderly retreat to Fort William Henry.

Colonel Bradstreet, being about to march at the head of the provincials of New York and New England against Fort Frontenac, obtained from Abercrombie, after this defeat, a detachment of 3,000 men, and with these, having marched to Oswego, he crossed Lake Ontario, and on the 25th of August attacked Fort Frontenac, which in two days’ time surrendered. Three armed vessels were taken, and the fort, which contained military stores intended for the Indians, and provisions for the south-western troops, was destroyed. On their return, the troops assisted in erecting Fort Stanwix, midway between Oswego and Albany. Among the officers who served with Bradstreet were Woodhull and Van Schaick, afterwards distinguished in the revolutionary war.

The expedition against Fort Du Quesne was entrusted to General Forbes, who early in July commenced his march with 7,000 men, including the Pennsylvanian and Virginian levies, the royal Americans recalled from South Carolina, and a body of Cherokee Indians. Washington, who headed the Virginian troops, and was then at Cumberland ready to join the main army, advised that the military road cut by Braddock’s army should be made use of; instead of which, Forbes, induced by some Pennsylvanian land-speculators, commenced making a new road from Ray’s Town, where the Pennsylvanian forces were stationed, to the Ohio. Whilst a needless delay was thus caused, Major Grant, who, with 800 men, had been sent forward to reconnoitre, was repulsed with the loss of 300 men, and himself taken prisoner. This misfortune, and the loss of time caused by making the road, which drove them into the cold season, together with considerable desertion and sickness, so dispirited the troops, that a council of officers determined to abandon the enterprise for the present. Just at that moment, however, a number of French prisoners accidentally brought in, revealed the feeble state of the garrison, and the news of the taking of Fort Frontenac reaching them at the same time, it was resolved to push forward immediately; and though they were then fifty miles from Du Quesne, and had, at the commencement of winter, to traverse untracked forests, they succeeded in arriving at the fort on the 25th of November, when it was found to be a pile of ruins, the garrison having set fire to it the day before, and retired down the Ohio.

The possession of this post caused great joy. New works were erected on the site of Du Quesne, the name of which was now changed to Fort Pitt, afterwards Pittsburg, now the Birmingham of America.

The consequence of this success was immediately seen, by the disposition which the Indians showed for peace. The frontiers of Virginia and Maryland were relieved from their incursions; and at a grand council held at Easton, in Pennsylvania, not only deputies of the Six Nations, but from their dependent tribes, the Delawares and others, met Sir William Johnson and the governors of New York and New Jersey, and solemn treaties of peace were entered into. In order to check the north-eastern Indians, who still remained hostile, and to prevent their intercourse with Canada, Fort Pownall was erected; the first permanent English settlement in that district.

The great object of the campaign of 1759 was the so-long-desired conquest of Canada. The intention of the British minister was communicated to the various colonial assemblies under an oath of secrecy; and this, together with the faithful reimbursement of their last year’s expenses, induced such a general activity and zeal, that early in the spring 20,000 colonial troops were ready to take the field.

In consequence of his disaster at Ticonderoga, Abercrombie was superseded, and General Amherst became commander-in-chief. The plan for the campaign was as follows: Wolfe, who after the taking of Louisburg had gone to England, and was now returning with a powerful fleet, was to make a direct attack on Quebec; Amherst was directed to take Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and so proceed northerly; while General Prideaux, who commanded the provincial troops and Indians, was to descend the St. Lawrence after taking Fort Niagara, and join Amherst in an attack on Montreal. Such was the proposed plan. The three divisions were intended to enter Canada by three different routes of conquest, all to merge finally in the conquest of Quebec, the great heart of the French power and dominion in America.

According to arrangement, Amherst arrived before Ticonderoga in July, with 11,000 men, when the garrison of the fort having been weakened by the withdrawal of forces for the defence of Quebec, both this and Crown Point surrendered without difficulty; the want of vessels, however, prevented him for some time either proceeding to join Wolfe at Quebec or attacking Montreal.

General Prideaux proceeded in the expedition against Niagara with his provincials and a body of warriors of the Six Nations, who, in spite of their treaty of neutrality, had been induced to join in this enterprise. Prideaux advanced by way of Schenectady and Oswego, and on the 6th of July effected a landing near Fort Niagara without opposition. The bursting of a gun, however, killed General Prideaux, when the command devolved on Sir William Johnson. Twelve hundred French, and an equal number of Indian auxiliaries, advancing to the relief of the garrison, gave battle to the English, and were routed with great loss, leaving a considerable number prisoners; on which the dispirited garrison capitulated. The surrender of this post cut off all communication between Canada and the south-west.

Sir William Johnson having so far accomplished his object, should, according to pre-arrangement, have descended Lake Ontario, to co-operate with Wolfe on the St. Lawrence; but again the want of shipping, shortness of provisions and the incumbrance of his French prisoners, prevented his doing so.

Thus disappointed in receiving these important reinforcements, Wolfe was compelled to commence the siege of Quebec alone. The presence of Wolfe had already inspired the most unbounded confidence. His army consisted of 8,000 men; his fleet, commanded by Admirals Saunders and Holmes, consisted of twenty-two ships of the line, and the same number of frigates and armed vessels. On board of one ship was Jervis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent; another had for master, James Cooke, the afterwards celebrated navigator. The brigades were commanded by Robert Moncton, afterwards governor of New York, and the conqueror of Martinique. Wolfe selected as his adjutant-general Isaac Barre, his old associate at Louisburg, an Irishman of humble birth, but brave, eloquent, and ambitious.

On the 27th of June, the whole armament disembarked on the island of Orleans, just below the city. We will give a rapid account of the events of this important siege from Mrs. Willard’s excellent history.

“From the island of Orleans, Wolfe reconnoitred the position of his enemy, and saw the full magnitude of the difficulties which surrounded him. The city of Quebec rose before him upon the north side of the St. Lawrence; its upper town and strong fortifications situated on a rock whose bold and steep front continued far westward, parallel with the river, its base near to the shore, thus presenting a wall which appeared inaccessible. From the north-west came down the St. Charles, entering the St. Lawrence just below the town, its banks steep and uneven and cut into deep ravines, while armed vessels were borne upon its waters, and floating batteries obstructed its entrance. A few miles below, the Montmorenci leapt down its cataract into the St. Lawrence; and strongly posted along the sloping bank of that river and between these two tributaries, the French army, commanded by Montcalm, displayed its formidable lines.

“The first measure of Wolfe was to obtain possession of Point Levi, opposite Quebec. Here he erected and opened heavy batteries, which swept from the lower town the buildings along the margin of the river; but the fortifications, resting on the huge table of rock above, remained uninjured. Perceiving this, Wolfe next sought to draw the enemy from his entrenchments, and bring on an engagement. For this purpose he landed his army below the Montmorenci; but the wary Montcalm eluded every artifice to draw him out. Wolfe next crossed that stream with a portion of his army, and attacked him in his camp. The troops which were to commence the assault fell into disorder, having, with impetuous ardour, disobeyed the commands of the general. Perceiving their confusion, he drew them off, with the loss of 400 men, and re-crossed the Montmorenci. Here he was informed that his expected succours were likely to fail him. Amherst had possession of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, but was preparing to attack the forces withdrawn from these places at the Isle aux Noix. Prideaux had lost his life, and Sir William Johnson had succeeded him in the command; but the enemy were in force at Montreal, and from neither division of the British army could the commander at Quebec hope for assistance.”

The bodily fatigues which Wolfe had undergone, and his anxiety and disappointment, threw him into a fever, which for a time disabled him from action; nevertheless he devised desperate means of attack, which, on proposing to his officers, were decided to be impracticable. Finally, it was determined to convey by night four or five thousand men to the level plain above the town, called the Heights of Abraham, and draw Montcalm “from his impregnable situation into open action.”[[8]]

“Montcalm,” continues Mrs. Willard, “perceiving that something was about to be attempted, despatched M. de Bourgainville with 1,500 men higher up the St. Lawrence, to watch the movements of the English. Wolfe, pursuant to his plan, broke up his camp at Montmorenci and returned to Orleans. Then embarking with his army, he directed Admiral Holmes, who commanded the fleet in which himself and the army had embarked, to sail up the river several miles higher than the intended point of debarkation. This movement deceived De Bourgainville, and gave Wolfe the advantage of the current and the tide to float his boats silently down to the destined spot.

This was done about one hour before daybreak. Wolfe and the troops with him leapt on shore; the light infantry whom the force of the current was hurrying along clambered up the steep shore, staying themselves by the roots and branches of the trees. French sentinels were on the shore; one of these hailed in French and was answered by an officer in that language. Escaping the dangers of the water’s edge, they proceeded, though with the utmost difficulty, to scale the precipice. The first party which reached the heights secured a small battery which crowned them, and thus the remainder of the army ascended in safety. In the light of morning the British army were discovered by the French, drawn up on this lofty plain in the most advantageous position.

Montcalm, learning with surprise and consternation the advantage gained by the enemy, left his strong position, and displaying his lines for battle, intrepidly led on the attack. Being on the left of the French, he was opposed to Wolfe, who was on the right of the British. In the heat of the engagement both commanders were mortally wounded. This was the third wound which Wolfe had received, and Isaac Barre, who fought near him, received a ball in the head, which ultimately deprived him of sight. “Support me,” said Wolfe to an officer near him; “do not let my brave fellows see me fall!” He was removed to the rear, and water was brought to quench his thirst. Just then a cry was heard, “They run! they run!” “Who runs?” exclaimed Wolfe, faintly raising himself. “The enemy!” was the reply. “Then,” said he, “I die content;” and expired. Not less heroic was the death of Montcalm. He rejoiced when told that his wound was mortal, “For then,” said he, “I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec!”

After the battle, General Townsend conducted the English affairs with great discretion. The French on their part appear to have yielded at once to the suggestion of their fears. The capitulation of Quebec was signed five days after the battle. Favourable terms were granted to the garrison.

General Townsend returning to England, General Murray was left in command, with a garrison of 5,000 men. The French army retired to Montreal, and M. de Levi, who had succeeded Montcalm, being reinforced by Canadians and Indians, returned the following spring, 1760, with 6,000 men to Quebec. General Murray left the fortress, and a second still more bloody battle was fought on the Heights of Abraham. Each army lost about 1,000 men, but the French maintained their ground, and the English took refuge within the fortress. Here they were closely invested, until having received reinforcements, M. de Levi abandoned all hope of regaining possession of Quebec, and returned to Montreal, where Vaudreuil, the governor, assembled all the force of Canada.

DEATH OF GENERAL WOLFE.

Desirous of completing this great conquest, the northern colonies joyfully contributed their aid, and towards the close of the summer, three armies were on their way to Montreal; Amherst at the head of 10,000 men together with 1,000 Indians of the Six Nations, headed by Sir William Johnson; Murray with 4,000 men from Quebec; and Haviland at the head of 3,500 men, by way of Lake Champlain. The force which was thus brought against Montreal was irresistible; but it was not needed; Vaudreuil, the governor, surrendered without a struggle. The British flag floated on the city; and not alone was possession given of Montreal, but of Presque Isle, Detroit, Mackinaw and all the other posts of Western Canada. About 4,000 regular troops were to be sent to France, and to the Canadians were guaranteed their property and liberty of worship.

Great was the joy of New York and the New England states in the conquest of Canada, as their frontiers were now finally delivered from the terrible scourge of Indian warfare. But while they rejoiced from this cause, the Carolinian frontiers were suffering from incursions of the Cherokees, who had been instigated to these measures by the French, who, retiring from Fort Du Quesne, had passed through their country on their way to Louisiana. General Amherst, therefore, despatched Colonel Montgomery against them, who aided by the Carolinian troops, marched into their country, burned their villages, and was on his way to the interior, when they in their turn besieged Fort Loudon, which, after great suffering, the garrison were compelled to surrender, under promise of a safe conduct to the British settlements. This promise, however, was broken; great numbers were killed on the way and others taken prisoners; and again the war raged on the frontier. The next year Colonel Grant marched with increased force into their country; a terrible battle was fought, in which the Cherokees were defeated, their villages burned, and their crops destroyed. Finally they were driven to the mountains, and now subdued and humbled, besought for peace.

The war between England and France, though at an end on the continent of America, was still continued among the West India Islands, France in this case also being the loser. Martinique, Grenada, St. Lucia, St. Vincent’s—every island, in fact, which France possessed among the Caribbees—passed into the hands of the English. Besides which, being at the same time at war with Spain, England took possession of Havanna, the key to the whole trade of the Gulf of Mexico.

In November, 1763, a treaty of peace was signed at Paris, which led to further changes, all being favourable to Britain; whilst Martinique, Guadalope and St. Lucia were restored to France, England took possession of St. Vincent’s, Dominica and Tobago islands, which had hitherto been considered neutral. By the same treaty all the vast territory east of the Mississippi, from its source to the Gulf of Mexico, with the exception of the island of New Orleans, was yielded up to the British; and Spain, in return for Havanna, ceded her possession of Florida. Thus, says Hildreth, was vested in the British crown, as far as the consent of rival European claimants could give it, the sovereignty of the whole eastern half of North America, from the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson’s Bay and the Polar Ocean. By the same treaty the navigation of the Mississippi was free to both nations. France at the same time gave to Spain, as a compensation for her losses in the war, all Louisiana west of the Mississippi, which contained at that time about 10,000 inhabitants, to whom this transfer was very unsatisfactory.

Three new British provinces were now erected in America; Quebec and East and West Florida. East Florida included all the country embraced by the present Florida, bounded on the north by the St. Mary’s. West Florida extended from the Apalachicola River to the Mississippi; from the 31st degree of latitude on the north, to the Gulf of Mexico on the south, thus including portions of the present states of Alabama and Mississippi. The boundary of Quebec corresponded with the claims of New York and Massachusetts, being a line from the southern end of Lake Nipissing, striking the St. Lawrence at the 45th degree of latitude, and following that parallel across the foot of Lake Champlain to the sources of the Connecticut, and thence along the highlands which separate the waters flowing into the St. Lawrence from those which fall into the sea.[[9]]

All, however, was not yet peace in the northern provinces. The English might possess themselves of French territory, but they could not win the hearts of the Indian, whom the devoted missionaries and the kind and politic French traders had attached to their nation. When, therefore, the English, who treated the Indians with cold contempt, were about to take possession, Pontiac, the brave and intellectual chief of the Ottawas, who cherished the hope of restoring his nation to independence, endeavoured to excite the Red men against their new lords. “If,” reasoned he, addressing his people, “the English have expelled the French, what should hinder, but that the Indian should destroy them before they have established their power, and thus the Red man once more be lord of the forest?” Pontiac, by his eloquence and energy, gained the co-operation of the whole north-western tribes, and the plan of a simultaneous attack on all the British posts on the lakes was formed without any suspicion being excited. The day fixed was the 7th of July, and on that day nine forts—all, indeed, excepting those of Niagara, Detroit and Fort Pitt—were surprised and taken. Nor was the outbreak confined to the forts; the whole frontier of Pennsylvania and Virginia, especially the former, was attacked, and the scattered traders and settlers plundered and cruelly murdered. The back settlers of Pennsylvania—principally Scotch and Irish Presbyterians, men of a character very different to that of the mild Quakers, and who, in the spirit of the older Puritans, regarded the Indians as the Canaanites of the Old Testament—rose up in vengeance, and the leaders of this movement coming principally from a place called Paxton, the body assumed the name of “the Paxton Boys,” and pursued their victims with a bloodthirsty spirit, which aimed at nothing less than extermination. In vain Benjamin Franklin interfered to save such friendly Indians as had fled for refuge to Philadelphia and other towns; the avengers knew no mercy, and for these unhappy remnants of a once powerful race there appeared no place of refuge but the grave. Such of the Christianised Indians as escaped this cold-blooded massacre established themselves on a distant branch of the Susquehanna; though their peace there was but of short duration, being again compelled, within a few years, to emigrate to the country north-west of the Ohio, where they and their missionaries, the Moravians, settled in three villages on the Muskinghum.

The conquest of Canada and the subjection of the eastern Indians giving security to the colonists of Maine, that province began to expand and flourish. The counties of Cumberland and Lincoln were added to the former single county of York, and settlers began to occupy the lower Kennebec, and to extend themselves along the coast towards the Penobscot. Nor was this northern expansion confined alone to Maine; settlers began to occupy both sides of the upper Connecticut, and to advance into new regions beyond the Green Mountains, towards Lake Champlain, a beautiful and fertile country which had first become known to the colonists in the late war. Homes were growing up in Vermont. In the same manner population extended westward beyond the Alleganies, as soon as the Indian disturbances were allayed in that direction. The go-a-head principle was ever active in British America. The population of Georgia was beginning to increase greatly, and in 1763 the first newspaper of that colony was published, called the “Georgia Gazette.” A vital principle was operating also in the new province of East Florida, now that she ranked among the British possessions. In ten years, more was done for the colony than had been done through the whole period of the Spanish occupation. A colony of Greeks settled about this time on the inlet still known as New Smyrna; and a body of settlers from the banks of the Roanoke planted themselves in West Florida, near Baton Rouge.[[10]]

Nor was this increase confined to the newer provinces; the older ones progressed in the same degree. Hildreth calls this the golden age of Virginia, Maryland, and South Carolina, which were increasing in population and productions at a rate unknown before or since. In the north, leisure was found for the cultivation of literature, art, and social refinement. The six colonial colleges were crowded with students; a medical college was established in Pennsylvania, the first in the colonies; and West and Copley, both born in the same year—the one in New York, the other in Boston—proved that genius was native to the New World, though the Old afforded richer patronage. Besides all this, the late wars and the growing difficulties with the mother-country had called forth and trained able commanders for the field, and sagacious intellects for the control of the great events which were at hand.

CHAPTER III.
CAUSES OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

A vast amount of debt, as is always the case with war, was the result of the late contests in America. With peace, the costs of the struggle began to be reckoned. The colonies had lost, by disease or the sword, above 30,000 men; and their debt amounted to about £4,000,000, Massachusetts alone having been reimbursed by parliament. The popular power had, however, grown in various ways; the colonial assemblies had resisted the claims of the royal and proprietary governors to the management and irresponsible expenditure of the large sums which were raised for the war, and thus the executive influence became transferred in considerable degree from the governors to the colonial assemblies. Another, and still more dangerous result, was the martial spirit which had sprung up, and the discovery of the powerful means which the colonists held in their hands for settling any disputed points of authority and right with the mother-country. The colonies had of late been a military college to her citizens, in which, though they had performed the hardest service and had been extremely offended and annoyed by the superiority assumed by the British officers and their own subordination, yet they had been well trained, and had learned their own power and resources. The conquest of New France, in great measure, cost England her colonies.

England, at the close of the war—at the close, in fact, of four wars within seventy years—found herself burdened with a debt of £140,000,000; and as it was necessary now to keep a standing army in her colonies, to defend and maintain her late conquests, the scheme of colonial taxation to provide a regular and certain revenue began again to be agitated. Already England feared the growing power and independence of her colonies, and even at one moment hesitated as to whether it were not wiser to restore Canada to France, in order that the proximity of a powerful rival might keep them in check and secure their dependence on the mother-country. As far as the colonists themselves were concerned, we are assured by their earlier historians that the majority had no idea of or wish to separate themselves from England, and that the utmost which they contemplated by the conquest of Canada, was the freedom from French and Indian wars, and that state of tranquil prosperity which would leave them at liberty to cultivate and avail themselves of the productions and resources of an affluent land. The true causes which slowly alienated the colonies from the parent state may be traced back to the early encroachments on their civil rights and the restrictive enactments against their commerce.

The Americans were a bold and independent people from the beginning. They came to the shores of the New World, the greater and better part of them, republicans in feeling and principle. “They were men who scoffed at the right of kings, and looked upon rulers as public servants bound to exercise their authority for the benefit of the governed, and ever maintained that it is the inalienable right of the subject freely to give his money to the crown or to withhold it at his discretion.” Such were the Americans in principle, yet were they bound to the mother-country by old ties of affection, and by no means wishful to rush into rebellion. It was precisely the case of the son grown to years of discretion, whom an unreasonable parent seeks still to coerce, until the hitherto dutiful, though clear-headed and resolute son, violently breaks the bonds of parental authority and asserts the independence of his manhood. The human being would have been less worthy in submission; the colonies would have belied the strong race which planted them, had they done otherwise.

England believed that she had a right to dictate and change the government of the colonies at her pleasure, and to regulate and restrict their commerce; and for some time this was, if not patiently submitted to, at least allowed. The navigation acts declared that, for the benefit of British shipping, no merchandise from the English colonies should be imported into England excepting by English vessels; and, for the benefit of English manufacturers, prohibited exportation from the colonies, nor allowed articles of domestic manufacture to be carried from one colony to another; she forbade hats, at one time, to be made in the colony, where beaver abounded; at another, that any hatter should have above two apprentices at one time; she subjected sugar, rum and molasses to exorbitant duties on importation; she forbade the erection of iron-works and the preparation of steel; or the felling of pitch and white pine-trees unless in enclosed lands. To some of these laws, though felt to be an encroachment on their rights, the colonies submitted patiently; others, as for instance, the duties on sugar and molasses, they evaded and opposed in every possible way, and the British authorities, from the year 1733, when these duties were first imposed, to 1761, made but little resistance to this opposition. At this latter date, however, George III. having then ascended the throne, and being, as Charles Townshend described him, “a very obstinate young man,” it was determined to enforce this law, and “writs of assistance,” in other words, search-warrants, were issued, by means of which the royal custom-house officers were authorised to search for goods which had been imported without the payment of duty. The people of Boston opposed and resented these measures; and their two most eminent lawyers, Oxenbridge Thatcher and James Otis, expressed the public sentiment in the strongest language. Spite of search-warrants and official vigilance, the payment of these duties was still evaded, and smuggling increased to a great extent, while the colonial trade with the West Indies was nearly destroyed.

In 1764 the sugar-duties were somewhat reduced, as a boon to the colonies, but new duties were imposed on articles which had hitherto been imported free; at the same time, Lord Grenville proposed a new impost in the form of a stamp-tax. All pamphlets, almanacs, newspapers; all bonds, notes, leases, policies of insurance, together with all papers used for legal purposes, in order to be valid, were to be drawn on stamped paper, to be purchased only from the king’s officers appointed for that purpose. This plan met with the entire approbation of the British parliament, but its enactment was deferred until the following year, in order that the colonies might have an opportunity of expressing their feelings on the subject. Though deference was thus apparently paid to their wishes, the intention of the British government was no longer concealed. The preamble of the bill openly avowed the intention of raising a revenue from “His Majesty’s dominions in America;” the same act gave increased power to the admiralty-courts, and provided more stringent means for enforcing the payment of duties and punishing their evasion.

The colonies received the news of these proposed measures with strong indignation. Massachusetts instructed her agent in London to deny the right of parliament to impose duties and taxes on a people who were not represented in the House of Commons. “If we are not represented,” said they, “we are slaves.” A combination of all the colonies for the defence of their common interests was suggested.

Otis, who had published a pamphlet on Colonial Rights, seeing the tide of public indignation rising very high, inculcated “obedience” and “the duty of submission,” but this was not a doctrine which the Americans were then in a state of mind to listen to. Better suited to their feeling was Thatcher’s pamphlet against all parliamentary taxation. Rhode Island expressed the same; so did Maryland, by their secretary of the province; so did Virginia, by a leading member of her House of Burgesses.[[11]] Strong as the expression of resentment was in the colonies, addresses in a much milder strain were prepared to the king and parliament from most of them, New York alone expressing boldly and decidedly the true nature of her feelings, the same tone being maintained by Rhode Island.

STAMP ACT RIOTS.

But the minds of the British monarch and his ministers were not to be influenced either by the remonstrances and pleadings of the colonies or their agents in London, or of their few friends in parliament. Grenville, the minister, according to pre-arrangement, brought in his bill for collecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House of Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there was neither division on the subject nor the slightest opposition. This act was to come into operation on the 1st day of November of the same year. It was on the occasion of its discussion in the House of Commons, that Colonel Barre, who had fought with Wolfe at Louisburg and Quebec, electrified the house with his burst of eloquence in reply to one of the ministers who spoke of the colonists as “children planted by our care, nourished by our indulgence, and protected by our arms.” “They planted by your care!” retorted Barre. “No; your oppression planted them in America. They nourished by your indulgence! They grew up by your neglect of them. They protected by your arms! Those sons of liberty have nobly taken up arms in your defence. I claim to know more of America than most of you, having been conversant in that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal subjects as the king has, but a people jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them should they ever be violated.”

The day after the Stamp Act had passed the house, Benjamin Franklin, then in London as agent for Philadelphia, wrote the news to his friend, Charles Thompson. “The sun of liberty,” said he, “is set; you must light up the candles of industry and economy.” “We shall light up torches of quite another kind,” was the reply.

Anticipating opposition to this unpopular measure, a new clause was introduced in the Mutiny Act, authorising the sending of any number of troops into the colonies, which, by an especial enactment, were to be found with “quarters, fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap and candles,” by the colonists.

The news of the passage of the Stamp Act called forth a universal burst of indignation. At Boston and Philadelphia the bells were muffled, and rung a funeral peal; at New York the act was carried through the streets with a death’s head affixed to it, and labelled, “The folly of England and the ruin of America.”[[12]]

The House of Assembly was sitting when the news reached Virginia, and the leading aristocratic members hesitated to express an opinion. Several days passed, and nothing was said; but the popular sentiment found an utterance from the lips of Patrick Henry, a young lawyer and member of the Assembly, who introduced a series of resolutions, which were, in fact, the key-note to all that followed. The first four resolutions asserted the rights and privileges of the colonists; the last denied the authority of any power whatsoever, excepting their own provincial Assembly, to impose taxes upon them, and denounced any person as an enemy to the colonies, who should by writing or speaking maintain the contrary. These strong resolutions led to a hot debate, during which Henry, carried away by the fervour of his patriotism, styled the king of England a tyrant. “Cæsar,” said he, “had his Brutus; Charles I. his Cromwell; and George III.——” the cry of “Treason! Treason!” interrupted him—“and George III.,” continued the corrected orator, “may profit by their example. If that be treason, make the most of it!” Spite of strong opposition, the resolutions passed; the last and most emphatic, by only the majority of one vote. The next day, in the absence of Henry, it was rescinded. But the whole had already gone to Philadelphia in manuscript, and soon circulating through the colonies, met with a warm response, and gave an impetus to the popular feeling.

Before the proceedings in Virginia were known in Massachusetts, the General Court had met, and a convention or congress of deputies from the various colonial houses of representatives was called “to meet at New York on the first Tuesday in October, to consult on the difficulties in which the colonies were and must be placed by the late acts of parliament levying duties and taxes upon them;” and further, “to consider of a general and humble address to his majesty and the parliament, to implore relief.”

In the meantime the popular feeling grew in intensity, and public meetings were held throughout the colonies—a new feature in colonial history,—and inflammatory speeches made, and associations formed, and resolutions agreed upon, to resist to the utmost this detested measure, which was stated to be “unconstitutional and subversive of their dearest rights.” Nor were they contented with talking merely. Associations, under the name of “Sons of Liberty,” a phrase taken from Colonel Barre’s famous speech, were formed in Connecticut, New York, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and New Jersey, who proceeded to express the popular sentiment in a very forcible manner. The stamp-officers in all these provinces were either compelled or persuaded to renounce their appointments; the stamps were seized and burned, and in Boston scenes even of disgraceful violence occurred. Public meetings were held under a large elm-tree, in an open space in the city, which hence took the name of the “Liberty Tree;” the effigies of such as were considered friends of the British government were hanged in its branches, beneath which inflammatory speeches were made. The house of Oliver, appointed stamp-distributor of Massachusetts, was attacked, the windows broken, and the furniture destroyed, and he compelled to resign. A violent sermon was preached against the Stamp Act, and this excited the mob still further; many houses of the public officers were attacked and destroyed, together with private papers and public records, as was particularly the case at the house of Hutchinson, the lieutenant-governor, whose furniture was piled into bonfires, the flames of which were fed with invaluable manuscripts, the carefully collected historical records of thirty years. These acts of violence were of course committed by such ignorant mobs as are the product of all periods of popular excitement. The respectable inhabitants of Boston expressed their “abhorrence,” and a civic guard was organised to prevent their recurrence; nevertheless the offenders passed unpunished, whence it may be inferred that “the respectability” of Boston did not quarrel with the spirit of their proceedings.

And now, on October 7th, the first Colonial Congress met at New York; twenty-eight delegates being present from nine colonies; among these were Timothy Ruggles, president, Otis, of Massachusetts, William Johnson, of Connecticut, Philip Livingstone, of New York, John Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, John M‘Kean, of Delaware, Christopher Gadsden and John Rutledge, of South Carolina—all names afterwards distinguished in the revolution. After mature deliberation, “a Declaration of the Rights and Grievances of the Colonies” was drawn up, in which all the rights and privileges of Englishmen were claimed as the birthright of the colonists; one of the most important of which was an exemption from all taxation, except such as was imposed by their own consent and by their own representatives. A petition to the king and parliament was also prepared, in which the cause of the colonies was eloquently pleaded.

These proceedings were sanctioned by all the representatives, excepting Ruggles, the president, and Ogden, of New Jersey, both of whom refused to sign, on the plea of the approbation of their several assemblies being first required. The petition and memorials, signed by the other delegates, were transmitted to England, and all the other colonies gave in their approval immediately afterwards.

On the important 1st of November, the day on which the Stamp Act came into operation, scarcely a sheet of all the many bales of stamped paper which had been sent out to the colonies was to be found. They had either been destroyed or shipped back to England. The day was observed as one of public mourning; shops were closed, vessels displayed their flags half-mast high, processions paraded the streets, and every means was used to show the public disapprobation. The very terms of the act caused, in the present state of the popular mind, a suspension of the whole machinery of the social state. Business for the time was at an end; the courts of law were closed; marriages could not take place, nor could the affairs of the dead be legally settled. This was a state, however, which could not continue, and by degrees things fell into their usual course, without any regard to the act of parliament at all.

On the 6th of November, a public meeting of the more influential inhabitants of Boston formed a combination of retaliation on Great Britain. The purport of this was, that no goods should be imported from England nor used by the colonies. The women entered into the scheme with the utmost enthusiasm. All British manufactures were foresworn, and every kind of domestic manufacture was to be encouraged. In order to promote the home manufacture of woollen cloths, it was determined for the present to eat neither mutton nor lamb, that the American flocks might thus be allowed to increase. By these means it was intended that the trade with Great Britain should be destroyed.

England received the news with mingled alarm and displeasure. Nevertheless, a change having taken place in the ministry, Lord Grenville being succeeded by the Marquis of Rockingham, a party more favourable to America was in power; and it was now, therefore, evident to all that one of two measures must be immediately taken—either the odious Stamp Act must be repealed, or the colonies must be compelled to obedience by force of arms. The former was the wiser course, and a strong party now existed to advocate it. Angry debates began in the British senate on the subject. Lord Grenville’s party opposed repeal, which Pitt in the House of Commons, and Lord Camden in the House of Lords, as warmly advocated. “You have no right,” said Pitt, addressing the house, “to tax America. We are told that America is obstinate—is almost in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people, so dead to all the feelings of liberty as to voluntarily submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest. The Americans have been wronged. They have been driven to madness by injustice. Let this country be the first to resume its prudence and temper. I will pledge my word for the colonies, that on their part animosity and resentment will cease!”

Franklin, summoned to the bar of the house as a witness, declared that the act could never be enforced; and the bill for the repeal was carried in the Commons. In the House of Lords it met with great opposition. Lord Camden advocated the cause of the colonies with great eloquence. “My position is this,” said he—“I repeat it, I will maintain it to my last hour—taxation and representation are inseparable. This position is founded on the law of nature. It is more—it is itself an eternal law of nature; for whatever is a man’s own is absolutely his own; no man has a right to take it from him without his consent. Whoever attempts to do it attempts an injury; whoever does it commits a robbery.”

The bill for repeal passed, but it was accompanied by another, called “the Declaratory Act,” which was intended to save the national honour by avowing the principle “that parliament had a right to bind the colonies in all cases whatever.”

The repeal of the Stamp Act caused great joy in London to the merchants, manufacturers, and friends of America. In America it was received by a general outburst of loyalty and gratitude. A general thanksgiving was appointed; statues to Pitt and even to the king were voted, and erected in various places. Pitt became more than ever the idol of the colonies; and thanks were voted to him by most of the colonial assemblies.

The rejoicing, however, was only of short duration. The Declaratory Act made known the principle of action which it was intended to pursue towards the colonies, and accordingly the following year its operation commenced. Again the ministry was changed; and though Pitt, now Earl of Chatham, was at the head of affairs, and Lord Camden had a seat in the cabinet, advantage was taken of Chatham’s illness, and Charles Townshend, now Chancellor of the Exchequer and a former member of Grenville’s ministry, brought in a bill for taxing all tea, glass, paper and painters’ colours, imported into the colonies. This bill being supposed less objectionable than the Stamp Act, passed the two houses with but little opposition. Nor was this all; a standing army was to be maintained in the colonies, and permanent salaries provided for the governors and judges, so as to make them independent of the colonial assemblies; while a third act empowered the naval officers to act as custom-house officers, armed with authority to enforce the trade and navigation acts. Punishment was also inflicted on New York and Georgia for their disregard of the late Quartering Act; the legislative assembly of New York was suspended until his majesty’s troops were provided with supplies at the expense of the colony, and the troops were withdrawn from Georgia for the same cause, leaving her exposed to the incursions of Indians and the insurrection of negroes, which soon brought her to submission.

The passing of these bills in such quick succession left the Americans no longer in doubt of the line of policy which it was intended by England to adopt towards them, and the excitement and indignation which they occasioned equalled that produced by the Stamp Act. The colonial assemblies met, and the strongest dissatisfaction was expressed. Pamphlets circulated briskly, and the newspapers, now about five-and-twenty in number, entered boldly on the subject of colonial rights. The “Letters of a Pennsylvanian Farmer to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies,” written by John Dickinson, flew from one end of the colonies to the other. Franklin caused an edition to be published even in London. The object of Dickinson’s letters was to show how dangerous was the precedent of allowing parliamentary taxation in any form or to any extent whatever.

Again meetings were held and associations formed for the support and encouragement of home manufactures, and against the use and importation of British goods. This movement, which commenced in Boston, extended throughout the province, and the example was followed in Providence, New York and Philadelphia. In New Hampshire the non-importation agreement was not so warmly seconded, owing to the influence of the governor, Wentworth, while in Connecticut, under William Pitkin, the governor and an ardent patriot, it met with universal acceptation.

The assembly of Massachusetts invited by circular the co-operation of the other provinces for the maintenance of colonial rights; the prime movers in this measure being Thomas Cushing, the speaker of the House of Assembly, James Otis, Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Joseph Hawley, all men of character and great influence. Otis was a lawyer; Cushing, descended from an old Puritan line in the colony; Adams, a stern Puritan likewise, educated for the ministry, but forced by circumstances to become a merchant—he had, however, been unsuccessful as such, and after various reverses and changes was now an active politician and patriot, a man though poor, and whose wife by her industry supported the family, yet who exercised an extraordinary influence upon the fate of his country. Hancock, the youngest of this patriot band, was a wealthy merchant, descended from a line of merchants, “young, gay, of winning manners, with a strong love of popular approbation.” “Hancock,” says Hildreth, “acted very much under the guidance of Adams, who saw the policy of putting him forward as a leader.” Hawley was a member of Northampton County, a lawyer by profession, a man of sound judgment, religious feeling, and unimpeachable character. The leader in the House of Representatives at this time was James Bowdoin, the grandson of a French Huguenot, whose father from the smallest beginnings had become the most opulent man in Boston, his immense wealth being inherited by his son and only child at one-and-twenty; he, too, acted under the direction of Adams.

The revenue officers no sooner began to enforce the collection of duties, than, as might be expected in the existing state of public feeling, they found themselves violently opposed by the merchants. Before long, also, the sloop Liberty, belonging to Hancock, being seized on the charge of having smuggled goods on board, the smothered fires burst into open flame. The populace rose, and the terrified revenue officers fled for their lives to the barracks on Castle Island, at the mouth of the harbour.

About the same time orders were received from England that “the Circular,” issued by the last court, and which had given great offence, should be rescinded, and great disapprobation was expressed in his majesty’s name of “that rash and hasty proceeding.” But the circular had already gone forth, and by a vote of ninety-two to seventeen the House of Assembly refused to rescind. Orders had also been received by all the other colonies, desiring them to pay no attention to this offensive circular; but Connecticut, New Jersey, Virginia, and Georgia, had already committed themselves to it; and Maryland and New York, instead of obedience, now put forth remonstrances of their own.

Still was New York in contention with the governor on the subject of the quartering of the troops, when General Gage, commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, at the request of Bernard, the governor, who had complained to England of the tumultuous and refractory character of the people of Boston, was ordered to establish a military force in the city, to keep the inhabitants in order, as well as to aid the revenue officers in performing their duties. Two additional regiments were in consequence sent over from England. Late in September they arrived, and with muskets charged, and fixed bayonets, marched in as to a conquered town. The people, however, remained refractory; nor, though ships of war were in their harbour, and 1,000 armed men in their streets, would they submit to find them quarters. At length the discomfited governor was compelled to yield; one regiment encamped on Boston common, and the State-house was thrown open for the accommodation of the rest. It was Sunday when all this happened, and as the State-house stood opposite the great church, the inhabitants were disagreeably disturbed in their worship by the beating of drums and the marching of the troops, only to find themselves challenged by sentinels stationed in the street on their way home. These were not circumstances calculated to mollify the popular resentment; the most irritating language passed between the soldiers and the citizens, and the public excitement increased daily.

The news of this reception given to the troops, which was transmitted to England both by Gage and Governor Bernard, caused an equally violent excitement in England. Parliament declared the conduct of Massachusetts to be “illegal, unconstitutional, and derogatory to the rights of the crown and of parliament, and urged upon the king, that the governor should be ordered to obtain all information regarding this treason, and to send suspected persons over to England for trial, under an old statute of Henry VIII., for the punishment of treasons committed out of the kingdom.” And a bill to the same effect, spite of the opposition of Barre, Burke, and Pownall, was immediately passed.

Every new step now taken, either by the colonies or the mother-country, increased the distance between them. The news of these instructions called forth immediately the most decisive expression of opinion from the colonial assemblies. The Virginian Assembly, in which Thomas Jefferson now first distinguished himself, and which was sitting when these tidings reached, passed a resolution denying boldly the king’s right, either to tax the colonies without their consent, or to remove an offender out of the country for trial. As soon as Lord Boutetout, the governor, heard of this, he dissolved the assembly, but the members, instead of submitting, resumed their sittings in a private house, and choosing Peyton Randolph as their speaker, passed resolutions, drawn up by Colonel Washington, against the use of British goods. Their example was followed, and the “non-importation agreement” of Boston, Salem and New York, now became general. In North Carolina the assembly was also dissolved, as well as in Massachusetts. In Massachusetts, indeed, the military still occupying the town of Boston and the State-house, the rupture became so violent, that when Sir Francis Bernard communicated to the assembly his intention of going to England, to represent to parliament the disaffected state of the province, the assembly drew up a petition praying that he might be removed for ever from the government of the province, and denouncing, in the strongest terms, the fact of a standing army being maintained among them in a time of peace, and against their express desire. Leaving the administration in the hands of Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson, Bernard departed.

In the following year, 1770, an event occurred at Boston, which caused great excitement throughout America. An affray having taken place between some citizens and soldiers, the populace became greatly exasperated, and on the 5th of March, a crowd insulted the city guard under Captain Preston, and dared them to fire. The soldiers fired, three of the people were killed, and others seriously wounded. At once the whole city was roused, and thousands appeared in arms. After great difficulty, and by promise that justice should be done them on the morrow, the lieutenant-governor succeeded in appeasing the tumult. Captain Preston and his company were tried for murder; two of the most distinguished American lawyers and patriots, John Adams and Josiah Quincy, very nobly volunteering their services in their defence. Two of the soldiers were convicted of manslaughter, the rest were acquitted; but this circumstance only tended to increase the ill-feeling between the citizens and the soldiers.[[13]]

On the very day of the outrage at Boston, Lord North, who was now at the head of the British administration, brought in a bill for the repeal of the detestable Quartering Act, and the removal of all the late offensive duties, excepting those on tea. It was time, in fact, to do something, as during the last year the amount produced by these very taxes had been swallowed up in their collection; British trade with the colonies was nearly at an end, and the military expenses amounted within the same period to £170,000. But even this conciliatory measure could do little. The Americans would accept nothing which still recognised the principle that parliament had a right to tax the provinces, and tea became now an article especially marked out by the non-importation agreements.

The concessions of government were not, however, without their effect in America; two parties began now to exist; those who inclined to moderation and adherence to the mother-country, called Tories, and the opponents, Whigs. In New York the party of Tories was strong, being composed of wealthy merchants, and members of the Church of England. These having power in the assembly, which now, after a suspension of two years, was allowed to meet again, submitted to the “Quartering Act,” and provided for the soldiers, to the extreme disgust of the patriots and sons of Liberty, at whose head was a wealthy merchant, Alexander M‘Dougall, a man who had raised himself by his own energy from poverty, and who was afterwards a major-general in the revolutionary army. This man having expressed his views very strongly, was imprisoned by the assembly, thus glad to show their zeal and loyalty, and M‘Dougall became at once a popular hero and martyr, and his prison the gathering-place of patriots.

The non-importation and non-consumption agreements led to results of a beneficial character in social life which had not been contemplated. The senseless pomp of mourning and funeral expenses in which the colonists had indulged was discontinued; American manufactures were stimulated, “home-made was the fashion; and in 1770, the graduating students at Cambridge took their degrees in home-spun suits.”

As we have before said, every successive act of Britain only served to alienate still more the hearts of her colonies. In 1772, parliament provided for the maintenance of the governor and judges of Massachusetts out of the royal revenues of the province, independent of the colonial assembly, and this was resented as an intended bribe to the governor and an infraction of their rights. Public meetings were again held throughout Massachusetts, and corresponding committees were formed, whose business was to discuss and consider the rights of the colonists and to communicate and publish the result. In the following year these committees commenced operation in New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Pennsylvania and Maryland, as well as in Massachusetts. These, “the nurseries of independence,” gave again great offence in England.

During June of the same year, the Gaspe, an armed revenue schooner, which had been a great cause of annoyance in Narrangansett Bay, was purposely enticed into shoal-water by a vessel to which she gave chase, boarded and burnt by a party from Providence. This daring outrage called forth the indignation of parliament, and an act was passed for sending to England for trial all persons concerned in destroying his majesty’s ships, etc. A reward of £600 was offered for the discovery of the persons concerned in the destruction of this vessel, and powerful machinery of examination was put in action; but though the perpetrators were well known, so strong was public feeling in their favour, that no legal evidence could be obtained against them.

“While ardent discussions,” says Hildreth, “on the subject of colonial and national rights were going on in Massachusetts, some reflecting persons were struck with the inconsistency of contending for their own liberty and depriving other people of theirs. Hence arose a controversy as to the justice and legality of negro slavery. This controversy led to trials at law, in which the question was freely canvassed, and it was proved by legal decisions ‘that the colonists, black or white, born there, were free-born British subjects, and entitled to all the essential rights of such.’ These were the first steps towards the abolition of slavery in Massachusetts.”

Whilst disputes were maturing themselves into the great national contest between the mother-country and the colonies, the colonies were not altogether at peace among themselves; the question of boundary being fruitful in controversy. Pennsylvania and Connecticut quarrelled violently about the possession of the Wyoming Valley, on the Upper Susquehanna, and blood was even shed. Virginia quarrelled with Pennsylvania, also, about her western frontier, laying claim to Pittsburg and the whole district west of the Laurel Mountains. The boundary dispute which had long agitated New York and New Jersey was happily adjusted about this time, as was also that between New York and Massachusetts. Violent were the disputes, however, between New York and the settlers in the infant Vermont, the territory lying west of the Connecticut, “the Green Mountain Boys,” as they were called, and the leaders of whom were Ethan Allen and Seth Warner, emigrants from Connecticut to the Green Mountains. But, spite of disputes both at home and abroad, settlers extended themselves farther and still farther, to the north and to the west. The formidable Six Nations had now disposed of all their vast territory south of the Ohio, as far as the Cherokee or Tennessee River, to the British Crown, for the sum of £10,460. Settlers were already occupying the banks of the Kenhawa River, flowing north into the Ohio, beyond the great Allegany Range. In consequence of this immense cession of territory, land companies started up in England for the establishment of new colonies, but the growing troubles with the mother-country prevented their plans being carried out.

The first settlements in the present state of Tennessee were made by emigrants from North Carolina, who established themselves on the Wataga, one of the head streams of the Tennessee, in the land of the Cherokees. Like the early settlers of New England, these emigrants organised themselves into a body politic, and drew up a code of laws to which every individual assented by signature. About the same time that settlers extended themselves to the Tennessee, an Indian trader, returning to North Carolina from one of his far journeys west, induced Daniel Boone and four other settlers on the Yadkin, in Maryland, by his glowing accounts of the wonderfully beautiful regions which he had discovered, to return with him for their exploration. They set out, reached the head waters of the Kentucky, and as hunters traversed the fertile plains and magnificent forests in pursuit of the buffalo and other game. They had encounters with Indians, and Boone was taken prisoner, but managed to escape, and was soon after joined by his brother, who had come out in search of him. Boone was a second Nimrod, a mighty hunter; and as such, explored the beautiful region between the Upper Kentucky and the Tennessee. The country pleased him greatly, and hastening back to the Yadkin, he sold his farm, and with his wife and children and five other families, returned to this “New Western Paradise,” being joined by volunteer settlers to the number of forty as he journeyed along. All, however, did not go smoothly with them; they were met by hostile Indians and some of their number killed; and war having broken out between the backwoodsmen of Virginia and the Indians on the Ohio, they were detained a year and a half by the way. While the west was thus opened to the colonists, Georgia also acquired a large increase of territory by the purchase of land from the Creeks and Cherokees.

About this time Whitfield died in America, and Wesley sent over disciples to establish the Wesleyan Church in that country; soon after which, Mother Ann Lee also arrived, the foundress of the Shakers, whose singular communities exist to this day, here and there, throughout the country. About the same time, also, the sect of the Universalists began to attract attention, under the preaching of John Murray; and though at first few dared to avow this so-called heresy, it gained great acceptation, and tended considerably to soften the stern, rugged heart of puritan New England.

We now return to the great contest which cast all minor subjects into the shade.

The British ministry intended by cunning policy to effect what open measures had failed to do. The East India company were allowed by act of parliament to export tea to the American colonies free from English duties, liable only to threepence per pound, to be paid by the colonists, and which would thus give them tea cheaper than that purchased by the English. Tea was shipped in great quantities to America, which the colonists, who objected as strongly as ever to the principle involved in the measure, determined should never be permitted to land.

The pilots, therefore, in Philadelphia harbour were ordered not to conduct the ships into the river, and their cargoes were consequently returned to England; at New York, the governor commanded the tea to be landed under protection of soldiers, but the people gained possession, and prohibited its sale. At Charleston, also, its sale was forbidden and it was stored up in damp cellars to render it unfit for use. At Boston, the tea being consigned to the governor and his friends, it was feared that it would be landed spite of the public, to prevent which a number of men, disguised as Indians, boarded the vessels at night, and threw their cargoes overboard. Three hundred and thirty-two chests of tea were thus broken open and destroyed.

The news of this determined and offensive procedure caused the utmost astonishment and indignation in England, and it was resolved in parliament “to make such provisions as should secure the just dependence of the colonies and due obedience to the laws throughout the British dominions and as an especial punishment of the contumacious Bostonians, a bill passed the house in March, 1774, to oblige them to repay the value of the destroyed article, and also interdicting all commercial intercourse with the port of Boston, and prohibiting the landing and shipping of any goods at that place;” and by the same act the custom-house and its dependencies were removed from Boston to Salem, which it was intended to raise on the ruins of its neighbour city and port.

THROWING THE TAXED TEA INTO BOSTON HARBOR.

General Gage superseded Hutchinson as governor of Massachusetts, in consequence of the unpopularity of the latter. A number of manuscript letters, written by him to various members of parliament, had fallen into the hands of Benjamin Franklin, now agent in London for Massachusetts, New Jersey, Georgia and Pennsylvania, and having been sent by him to Boston, and circulated extensively though privately, caused his removal from office.

When, in May, the news of the Boston Port Bill reached that city, together with instructions to the new governor, to send to another colony or to England, for trial, any persons indicted for murder, or any other capital offence committed in aid of the magistrates in the fulfilment of their duty, an astonishment of grief and anger fell upon the citizens, and a meeting of the inhabitants declared that “the impolicy, injustice and inhumanity of the act exceeded their powers of expression.”

The General Assembly met, but was adjourned by the governor to Salem, and it was then resolved that a colonial congress should be convened to take into serious consideration the present difficult state of affairs. James Bowdoin, Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams and Robert Treat Paine, were therefore at once appointed as their representatives to such a congress, and the speaker of the house was ordered to inform the other colonies of this measure. The governor, hearing of these proceedings, ordered the assembly to dissolve, but in vain; his officer was not admitted, and in defiance of orders, the assembly finished its business.

The colonies sympathised warmly with Massachusetts, and Massachusetts was true to herself. The behaviour of the inhabitants of Salem, whom it was intended to benefit at the expense of Boston, was very noble. They replied to the governor’s proclamation, “That nature, in forming their harbour, had prevented their becoming rivals to Boston in trade; and that, even if it were otherwise, they should regard themselves as lost to every idea of justice and all feelings of humanity, if they could indulge a thought of seizing upon the wealth of their neighbours, or raising their fortunes upon the ruins of their countrymen.” More than this; the inhabitants of Marblehead and Salem offered to the suffering merchants of Boston the use of their harbour, wharfs and warehouses, free of all charge; and in Virginia, where Lord Dunmore, now governor, found it impossible to manage the “the refractory people,” “a day of fast, humiliation, and prayer,” was appointed for the 1st of June, the day on which the Boston Port Act came into effect, “that they might beseech of God to avert the evils which threatened them, and to give them one heart and one mind firmly to oppose, by all just and proper means, every injury to the American rights.”

In September, the great congress proposed by Massachusetts met at Philadelphia, composed of delegates from eleven of the colonies—the most important assembly which had yet come together in America, and for the result of whose deliberations all parties waited with extreme interest and anxiety.

By unanimous consent, Peyton Randolph, of Virginia, was chosen president; to each province was given one vote; they proceeded in their deliberations with closed doors; and a committee, composed of two persons from each province, was appointed to state the rights of the colonies in general, together with every known instance in which these rights had been infringed by the mother-country, and the proposed means of redress. The conduct of Massachusetts, in her “conflict with wicked ministers,” was approved, and a continuance of supplies for her relief was voted. A letter of remonstrance was addressed to the governor, General Gage, who was erecting fortifications on Boston Neck, begging him to “desist from military operations, lest a difference altogether irreconcilable should arise between the colonies and the parent state.”

The committee appointed for that purpose drew up a document setting forth, in a string of resolutions, the rights of the colonies, which, being approved, was published as the well-known “Bill of Rights.” A suspension of all commercial intercourse with Great Britain was resolved upon, until the grievances of the colonies were redressed; an address to the king was voted, together with others to the people of Great Britain and British America. The non-importation agreement bound them, “under the sacred ties of virtue, honour, and love of liberty,” not to import or use any British goods after the 1st of December, 1774, particularly the articles, tea and molasses. Agriculture, the arts and manufactures, were to be promoted in America by all possible means; committees were appointed to see this agreement entered into, and all who violated it were to be regarded as enemies to their country. To the honour of this assembly it must be stated, that they bound themselves also not to be in any way concerned in the slave-trade.

The proceedings of this congress awoke, as might be expected, a still stronger spirit of animosity in England. In vain the congress deplored to the king “the apprehension of his colonists being degraded into a state of servitude from the pre-eminent rank of English freemen;” in vain they besought that “the royal indignation might fall on those designing and dangerous men, who, by their misrepresentations of his American subjects, had compelled them by the force of accumulated injuries to disturb his majesty’s repose;” in vain they prayed for “peace, liberty, and safety; wishing not the diminution of the royal prerogative, nor soliciting the grant of any new right in their favour;” in vain they concluded their petition by earnestly beseeching the king, “as the father of his whole people, not to permit the ties of blood, of law, and loyalty, to be broken.” In vain did Lord Chatham stand before the British senate as the eloquent advocate of America, declaring that the way must be immediately opened for reconciliation, or it would be soon too late. “His majesty,” argued he, “may indeed wear his crown, but the American jewel out of it, it will not be worth wearing. I say,” continued he, taking up the argument of American wrongs, “you have no right to tax the colonies without their consent. They say truly, representation and taxation must go together; they are inseparable. This wise people speak out. They do not hold the language of slaves; they tell you what they mean. They do not ask you to repeal your laws, as a favour; they claim it as a right—they demand it; and the acts must be repealed. Bare repeal, however, will not satisfy this enlightened and spirited people. You must go through with the work; you must declare that you have no right to tax them; thus they may trust you—thus they will have some confidence in you.”

In vain did the merchants of London and other commercial towns petition in favour of America. Dr. Franklin and other colonial agents were refused a hearing before the house. America was condemned. The two houses of parliament, by a large majority, assured the king that “the Americans had long wished to become independent, and only waited for ability and opportunity to accomplish their design. To prevent this, therefore, and to crush the monster in its birth, was the duty of every Englishman; and this must be done, at any price and at every hazard.” Such was the temper of parliament.

In the meantime, the colonies were not indifferent to the increasing difficulties of the times. Massachusetts already assumed a military aspect. The congress, which, spite of the opposition of the governor, continued to hold its sittings, seeing that the military stores were already seized by the governor, proceeded themselves to take measures for the defence of the province. £20,000 were voted for this purpose, and the collectors of taxes received orders no longer to forward their moneys to the government treasurer, but to a new one of their own appointment. Further, it was ordained that a number of the inhabitants should be enrolled as a militia of 12,000 men, ready to march at a minute’s notice; officers were chosen, and committees of supplies and safety held their regular sittings. Gage denounced their proceedings, but no notice was taken of his denunciations; “he had no support except in his own troops and a few trembling officials, while the zealous co-operation of an intelligent, firm, energetic, and overwhelming majority of the people, gave to the provincial congress all the strength of an established government.”[[14]]

In November, at the very time when the king and the British parliament were resolving to keep terms no longer with the colonies, Massachusetts sent agents to New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Connecticut, to inform them of her measures, and to solicit their co-operation in raising an army of 20,000 men, ready to act in case of need.

In the midst of all these growing internal excitements, and while the colonists were deeply occupied in the maintenance of their rights, the frontiers of Pennsylvania and Virginia were again visited by the miseries of Indian warfare. It was at this time that the family of the famous chief Logan, an old and faithful friend of the whites, was murdered in cold blood; and this and other atrocities committed by the explorers of Ohio and Kentucky, led to the sorrows of the present Indian war. Daniel Boone, the hunter of the Kentucky plains, was placed in command of a frontier fort by Lord Dunmore, governor of Virginia, and a war of extermination was carried on against the Indians. At length, negotiations of peace were entered into, and it was on this occasion that Logan made his celebrated speech: “I appeal to any white man,” spoke the eloquent chief of the forest, “if he ever entered the cabin of Logan hungry, and he gave him not meat; if he ever came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin; and such was his love for the whites, that his countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, ‘Logan is the friend of the white men!’ I even thought to live with you, but for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresop, last spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relatives of Logan, not sparing women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature! This called on me for revenge! I have fully glutted my vengeance! For my people, I rejoice at the beams of peace; but mine is not the joy of fear—Logan never felt fear. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one!”

At the commencement of 1775, America very generally stood in a position of hostility to the mother-country. The congress of Massachusetts had held its third sitting; volunteers were in arms throughout the province, and every town had its committees of safety, correspondence and inspection. John Thomas, of Plymouth, and William Heath, a Roxbury farmer, were appointed generals of the Massachusetts army.

In Rhode Island, in consequence of the royal prohibition of the exportation of military stores to America, and the removal of armed ships from Narrangansett Bay, the people of Providence conveyed forty-four pieces of cannon thither from Newport; and when called upon by the British naval commander for an explanation, Governor Wanton, a stout patriot, bluntly replied, that they were removed to prevent their falling into his hands, and were intended to be used against any force which might molest the colony. In New Hampshire, John Sullivan a lawyer, and John Langdon, a merchant of Portsmouth, headed a party who entered the fort at that place, and possessed themselves of 100 barrels of powder, cannon and small arms. The convention of Maryland ordered the enrolment of militia, and voted £10,000 for the purchase of arms. In Pennsylvania, the public spirit was less unanimous. The provincial convention of that province expressed themselves less decidedly than suited the temper of the ardent patriots, one of the leaders of whom was Thomas Mifflin, a young Quaker, possessed of much energy of character, and remarkable powers of popular eloquence. Mifflin, however, was an exception to the general body of Quakers, who, whatever their original opposition to established forms, have ever been loyal and obedient to the powers that be; and now, in their yearly meeting held in Philadelphia at the commencement of 1775, they put forth their “testimony of abhorrence to every measure and writing tending to break off the happy connexion of the colonies with the mother-country, or to interrupt their just subordination to the king.” Very different was the spirit of the sects and their ministers in New England. Everywhere it evinced opposition to the king and the mother-country, whose attempts to force an established episcopal church, with a bishop at its head, upon the colonies, had only tended still more to increase that very spirit of resistance which had first sent their forefathers to these shores. The Presbyterians of every New England state were all staunch Whigs. The episcopal clergy and their congregations, wherever found, were Tories; so also were the landed proprietors and merchants, especially the more recent settlers. The Episcopalian and Tory party was more numerous in New York than in any other of the northern provinces. In Georgia they were also considerable, and the influence of Governor Wright prevented this province from joining the American Association; and in the southern provinces, the law of primogeniture, which still considerably prevailed, together with the institution of slavery, had given rise to a local aristocratic class, totally opposed in sentiment to the democracy of the north.

These were the elements upon which England depended to establish her power in the coming contest;—nor were these all; she depended, not only on the loyalty and attachment of the Episcopalians everywhere, but on the peace-loving principles of the Quakers, who were an influential portion of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and North Carolina; she expected if not aid, at least no opposition from the numerous German settlers, who, established in large colonies, had not yet acquired the English language nor amalgamated with the British colonists; and at the same time she depended for aid upon the Scotch Highlanders, who abounded in New York and North Carolina, and who were at the same time ignorant and loyal.

It being determined therefore to show no concession to the rebellious spirit of the colonies, a bill was brought in in February, 1775, for cutting off the trade of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island and New Hampshire, excepting with Great Britain and her West India possessions, and to prohibit also their fishing on the banks of Newfoundland, which was then a great branch of their trade and industry. While this bill was under discussion, news reached England of the adhesion which was given by the other colonies to the measures of the American Congress; and all the colonies, excepting New York, North Carolina and Georgia, were included in the bill of restriction. At the very time that this New England Restraining Bill was agitating all parties, Lord North proposed what he called a conciliatory plan, which was, in fact, that Great Britain should forbear any scheme of colonial taxation, on condition that the assembly of each province should raise a suitable amount of money, which should be disposable by parliament. This plan, though vehemently opposed in England, as conceding too much to the colonies, was utterly rejected by the colonies, as compelling them to yield that over which they claimed to have a right. In the midst of all these attempts at coercion and conciliation, an endeavour at negotiation also failed between Benjamin Franklin and some members of the cabinet who were friendly to America.

The West India merchants petitioned against the restraining bill, as interfering fatally with their commercial relationships, and foretelling famine and ruin to the West India islands in consequence. The assembly of Jamaica petitioned parliament on behalf of “the claim of rights set up by the North American provinces,” and protested against the “plan almost carried into execution for reducing the colonies into the most abject state of slavery.” Petitions for conciliation were presented from the British Quakers and the British settlers in Quebec, and Wilkes, as lord mayor of London, presented a remonstrance to the king from the city authorities, expressing “abhorrence of the measures in progress for the oppression of their fellow subjects in the colonies.” But all was of no avail. Nothing was to be done; and Franklin, seeing the hopeless state of affairs, set sail for America, and almost at the same moment the battle of Lexington was fought.

CHAPTER IV.
THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

When, in February, 1775, the provincial congress met again at Cambridge, the committee of supplies took the most active measures for the raising and drilling of the militia, and for the procuring of ammunition and military stores of all kinds. A day of fasting and prayer, according to puritan custom on solemn and important occasions, was also appointed; New England was preparing temporally and spiritually for the great time of trial.

The British forces under the command of General Gage, at Boston, amounted to about 3,000. Gage, aware of what was going forward around him, resolved to disable the insurgent colonists by gaining possession of the stores and ammunition which had been collected by them, and stored at Salem and Concord. At Salem the search was unsuccessful, the troops being driven back from a bridge, the passage of which was disputed on the Sunday. The attempt at Concord was of a much more serious character, military stores being collected there to a great extent. Eight hundred men were sent out on this expedition, with orders of despatch and secrecy, under the command of Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn, on the night of April 18th, and arrived at Lexington, within five miles of Concord, just before sunrise. But the alarm had been already given, and it being supposed that the intention was to seize John Hancock and Samuel Adams, who were then there, the minute-men of the place were drawn up to resist them. Pitcairn, at the head of his regulars, advanced within musket-shot, and exclaimed, “Disperse, rebels! Throw down your arms, and disperse!” No notice being taken of these words, a volley was then fired, which killed eight of the minute-men and wounded several others. The British, however, declared that the minute-men fired first; but be that as it may, they then fled, and the firing was continued, the regulars marching on to Concord, where they destroyed and took possession of the stores, while the minute-men being reinforced by different bodies which had hurried there at the sound of the firing, a skirmish ensued. A considerable number of the regulars were killed, and the rest forced to retreat, the colonial militia pursuing them hotly all the way back to Lexington, where, fortunately for themselves, they found Lord Percy with a reinforcement of 900 men. But for this timely aid, it is doubtful if any of their number would have reached Boston; the Americans, having the advantage of the knowledge of the ground, and availing themselves of the Indian mode of warfare, took fatal aim from behind bushes, stone walls, barns, or whatever offered a means of concealment. At sunset the exhausted regulars reached Bunker’s Hill, near Boston, having lost in killed and wounded about 300 men, while the loss of the provincials amounted to eighty-five.

The news of this battle, of this first shedding of blood, flew like wild-fire through the colonies. Couriers were despatched at full speed from place to place, bearing tidings which called all to arms. “The war has begun!” was shouted in the market-place; at the ferry on the river; in the crowded meeting-house on the Sabbath; and all rushed to arms. It was twenty days, however, with their utmost speed, before the news reached Charleston in South Carolina; yet, long before that time, volunteers had marched from all parts of the New England colonies.

From Rhode Island, a body of volunteers hastened to Boston, under the command of a young Quaker, Nathaniel Greene, who was disowned by his brethren for this violation of their principles. Nor could the admonitions and threats of discipline of the elder Friends of Philadelphia keep the martial spirit of their young men under control. Mifflin’s example and influence was stronger than all the advice they could give, and Quaker-Philadelphia sent out a company of brave volunteers. Delaware, Maryland, and North Carolina, all were moved by the same spirit; while Patrick Henry, the young patriot lawyer of Virginia, marched with a troop of volunteer riflemen to Williamsburgh, the capital of the Old Dominion, and compelled the royal treasurer to refund the value of ammunition which Lord Dunmore, the governor, had lately seized. Dunmore, incensed, issued a proclamation declaring them rebels, and fortified his residence. Soon after, letters of his, addressed to the English government, and which were considered false to the colony, being intercepted, the public indignation waxed hot against him; whereupon, fearing for his life, he fled to a man-of-war lying at Yorktown, and abandoned his government. Governor Martin, of North Carolina, about the same time, fled also in terror on board a ship of war, at the mouth of Cape Fear River; and in South Carolina, Lord William Campbell, the governor, being suspected of secret negotiations with the Cherokees, was likewise obliged to retire. Georgia, the hitherto “defective link in the American chain,” soon became soldered by the kindling flame of liberty. In vain Sir James Wright, the governor, did his utmost to maintain the loyalty and allegiance of the province. The powder was removed from the magazine at Savannah; and the cargo of a powder-ship, which lay at the mouth of the river, forwarded to the camp at Boston.

Georgia sent five delegates to the provincial congress about to assemble at Philadelphia; and henceforth the style of the “Thirteen United Colonies” was assumed.

The battle of Lexington was soon followed by other events. The Massachusetts committee of safety had already contemplated gaining possession of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, on which depended the control of Lakes George and Champlain, when, without waiting for higher commands than those of patriotism, the bold Ethan Allen and Seth Warner, at the head of their “Green Mountain Boys,” set out on the enterprise. Without being aware of this movement, Benedict Arnold, a New Haven trader, then in camp before Boston with a company of volunteers, received a commission from the committee of safety, to raise a body of troops in Vermont and proceed on this enterprise. Arnold was well pleased, for it was a favourite scheme of his own, but presently found, to his surprise, that others were before him. Taking command, therefore, under Allen, they marched together to Ticonderoga, which they reached on the 9th of May, and on the 10th, by break of day, entered the fort unperceived, with eighty men, and surprising De la Place, the commandant, in his bed, ordered him to surrender, “in the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” No resistance was attempted; and Crown Point was taken with equal ease. The garrison of both forts did not amount to more than sixty men, but above 200 pieces of artillery and a valuable quantity of powder, of which there was great want in the provincial camp, fell into the hands of the captors. After this, Arnold manned a small schooner, and proceeding down the lake, surprised the Fort of St. John and seized a sloop-of-war laden with stores; the pass of Skeensborough, now Whitehall, was likewise secured. Three important posts which commanded the lakes, together with much needed cannon and munitions of war, being thus secured in rapid succession and without bloodshed, raised the hopes of the Americans and inspired them with confidence.

While these events were going forward, Lord North’s conciliatory proposition was laid before the various colonial assemblies and rejected. On May 10th the colonial congress met at Philadelphia. Its meeting was momentous. Thomas Jefferson was chosen president, and Thomas Hancock secretary. Bills of credit were issued for defraying the expenses of the war. It was resolved, that hostilities had been commenced by Great Britain; allegiance was still avowed, and an anxious desire expressed for peace; nevertheless it was voted that the colonies ought to put themselves in a posture of defence against the parliamentary schemes of compulsory taxation. After much opposition, another petition to the king was agreed upon. The New England states entertained and freely acknowledged the desire for independence; the middle and the southern states still hesitated, though all had sent delegates to the congress. Addresses were also prepared to the people of Great Britain and Ireland, as well as an appeal made to the “oppressed inhabitants of Canada,” as through Canada it was expected that England would make an attack on the colonies.

In order to prevent General Gage from penetrating into the country, which was his intention, congress recommended to the council of war completely to blockade him in Boston; for which purpose, Colonel Prescott, with a detachment of 1,000 men, including a company of artillery and two field-pieces, was ordered to march at nightfall of June 16th, and take possession of Bunker’s-hill, an elevation just within the peninsula of Charlestown, and commanding the northern approach to Boston, which city it overlooked. By some mistake, however, they proceeded to Breed’s Hill, a lower height and still nearer to Boston. With the utmost silence and despatch they laboured all night, and before morning had thrown up a considerable redoubt, capable of defending themselves from the fire of the enemy. Great was the astonishment of the British the next morning, and a fire was immediately opened upon them from the ships in the river. The work, however, went on uninterruptedly, when, about noon, 3,000 picked men, under command of Generals Howe and Pigot, embarked in boats and landed at the foot of Breed’s Hill, and advanced slowly in two columns; the artillery in the meantime being directed against the works. At this critical moment no system prevailed in the American army; the same troops who had been at work all night were still in the intrenchments; neither General Warren nor Israel Putnam, though on the ground, had troops under their command; forces which had been ordered thither had not arrived and the stock of ammunition was very small.

It was a splendid summer’s afternoon, when the British advanced up the hill. Clinton and Burgoyne were stationed on a height in Boston to watch the action; and all the surrounding eminences, spires of churches, and roofs of houses, were crowded with spectators, awaiting anxiously, though with opposing interests, the result of the approaching conflict. Slowly and uninterruptedly advanced the British, until within about ten rods of the redoubt, when such a deadly fire assailed them that their ranks were mown down, the whole line broken, and they fell back in disorder. Again they were rallied and brought back to the charge by their officers, but again were repulsed with loss. Infuriated by defeat, and in consequence also, it is said, of shots being fired from a house on the left, Gage ordered Charlestown to be set on fire; the wooden buildings burned rapidly and the tall spire of the meeting-house was wrapt in flame; 2,000 people at least being thus rendered houseless. Amid the terrors of the burning village, the British regulars made a second and yet a third attack, and this time with better success. The ammunition of the provincials began to fail, and the British artillery, now brought up to the breast-work, swept it from end to end, while three simultaneous attacks carried it at the point of the bayonet. Courage now could avail nothing, and the provincials under Colonel Prescott made good their retreat across Charlestown Neck, exposed to an incessant fire from the shipping, and entrenched themselves on another height still commanding the entrance to Boston. The British took possession of Bunker’s Hill. This defeat the Americans esteemed as a victory; in England the victory was considered little less than a defeat, and General Gage was in consequence superseded by Sir William Howe, brother of Lord Howe, who perished before Ticonderoga. Of 3,000 British engaged in this conflict above 1,000 fell. The loss of the Americans was in about the same proportion; out of 1,500, 450 were killed and wounded, but among the former was General Warren, whose loss caused the deepest regret to his country.

This second encounter, in which undisciplined troops had so bravely withstood the flower of the British army, raised still higher the hopes and confidence of the Americans. The English discovered also that they had no insignificant enemy to deal with.

The day before the battle of Bunker’s Hill, the Provincial congress at Philadelphia, having voted to raise an army of 20,000 men, proceeded to elect George Washington, then present as delegate from Virginia, to the rank of commander-in-chief. The northern colonies had resolved, in order to secure the adherence of the South, to choose a southern commander, and the superior wisdom of Providence guided them in the selection. God provides the man for the work, and Washington was the appointed agent of a great people’s emancipation. Divine wisdom, and not that of man, guided the choice. Washington, with great modesty and dignity, accepted the appointment, declining all compensation for his services beyond the defrayment of expenses. At the same time that Washington received the command in chief, Artemas Ward, of Massachusetts, Colonel Lee, formerly a British officer, Philip Schuyler, of New York, and Israel Putnam, of Connecticut, then with the camp before Boston, were appointed major-generals, and Horatio Gates adjutant-general.

Washington, accompanied by a number of ardent young men from the South, soon appeared in the camp and assumed command. He found excellent materiel for an army, but great want of arms and ammunition as well as deficiency of discipline. The troops, now amounting to 14,000 men, were arranged in three divisions; the right wing under General Ward, at Roxbury; the left, under Lee, on Prospect Hill; and the centre at Cambridge, where were Washington’s head-quarters. The post of quarter-master-general was given by Washington to Mifflin, the young Quaker of Philadelphia, who had accompanied him as aide-de-camp; and Robert Harrison, a lawyer of Maryland, was chosen by him for the important office of his secretary, the duties of which he faithfully performed for several years. Among the new companies which now joined the camp was one from Virginia, led by that same village wrestler, Daniel Morgan, who was hired by Benjamin Franklin to aid in the removal of stores for Braddock’s army, and in whose defeat he was wounded. The British, thus hemmed in at Boston, suffered greatly from want of provisions.

While Washington was occupied in organising his army and endeavouring to introduce order and discipline among troops unaccustomed to subordination, congress was employed in providing the necessary means for the support of the war. A declaration of war was also issued, in which the causes and necessity for taking up arms were set forth. This document, which was ordered to be read from every pulpit in the colonies, asserted that their cause was just, their union perfect. “Our internal resources are great,” said the declaration, “and if necessary, foreign aid is undoubtedly attainable.” “Nevertheless,” it went on to say, “we have not raised armies with the ambitious design of separating from Great Britain. We have taken up arms in defence of the freedom which is our birthright. We shall lay them down when hostilities shall cease on the part of the aggressors, and all danger of their renewal shall be removed.”

The importance of keeping on good terms with the Indians at this critical juncture was not overlooked; and three boards were established for the management of Indian affairs. An armed body of Stockbridge Indians, the last remains of the New England tribes, was already with the camp at Boston; and overtures were made to the Six Nations. Louis, the chief of the French Mohawks, a half-blood Indian, received a commission as colonel, and at the head of an Indian troop faithfully served the American cause.

The first complete line of postal communication was established at this time by congress, amid its multifarious concerns, and Benjamin Franklin was appointed post-master-general, with power to appoint deputies for the conveyance of the mail from Falmouth in Maine to Savannah in Georgia.

While the British army was blockaded at Boston, and the highway to Canada opened for the Americans by their possession of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, it was resolved by congress to invade and possess themselves of that province, and thus counteract the movements of Sir Guy Carleton, the governor, who was evidently under orders from England to attack the colonies from the north-west. Two expeditions were therefore sent out—the one under Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, by way of Lake Champlain; the other by the Kennebec, under General Benedict Arnold; the whole of these forces amounting to about 3,000 men.

On the 10th of September, Schuyler and Montgomery appeared before St. John’s, the most southern British fort in Canada, but finding it too strong for attack, retired to the Isle aux Noix, 115 miles from Ticonderoga, which they fortified, and where Schuyler issued circulars to the Canadians, inviting them to join the Americans and assert their liberty. But soon after hastening to Ticonderoga for reinforcements, he fell sick, and the whole command devolved upon Montgomery.

Having received reinforcements, though in want of artillery and ammunition, and having engaged the Indians in a treaty of neutrality, Montgomery returned to St. John’s, which he besieged with but little success, though he took Fort Chambly, at a few miles distance, where he was fortunate enough to obtain several pieces of cannon and a considerable quantity of powder. Colonel Ethan Allen, the hero of Ticonderoga, being sent out, during the siege of St. John’s, with a detachment of about eighty men, to secure a party of hostile Indians, met on his return with another officer as rash and daring as himself, and they, without orders, madly determined to attempt the surprise of Montreal. Montreal did not yield so easily as Ticonderago fort had done; Allen was taken prisoner, treated with great severity, and sent to England in irons. Montgomery, however, having renewed the siege of St. John’s, that fort surrendered on the 3rd of November, after which he advanced rapidly to Montreal, which Carleton had abandoned, making his escape down the river to Quebec. The following day, Montgomery, having engaged to leave the inhabitants undisturbed in the free exercise of their laws and religion, took possession of the town, where his troops found a very welcome supply of woollen goods, with which they were enabled to clothe themselves—a necessary circumstance at the commencement of a rigorous Canadian winter. Although the kindness of Montgomery’s disposition and conduct induced many Canadians to enlist under his arms, he suffered greatly from the insubordination and desertions of his own troops; while others, the time of their service being expired, returned to their own homes. Nevertheless, with the remnant of his army, amounting merely to about 300 men, he proceeded rapidly towards Quebec, expecting to meet there General Arnold, with his detachment of 1,000 men, who was to advance thither by the Kennebec.

The hardships which Arnold and his men had in the meantime endured, in the trackless and desolate forests of Maine, at the commencement of winter, were almost incredible; nevertheless, on the 9th of November, he arrived at Point Levi, opposite Quebec. Could he have immediately crossed the St. Lawrence, the city, which was indifferently defended and which was alarmed at his approach, might easily have been taken; but, for want of boats, it was not until the 13th that he was able to cross, and by that time Carleton, who had escaped from Montreal, had gained the city and put it in a state of defence. On the night of the 13th, therefore, Arnold crossed with his army, now reduced to 700 men, and ascending the cliffs to the Heights of Abraham, as Wolfe had done before, hoped to take the city by surprise. Finding, however, the garrison prepared for his reception, and not being strong enough to hazard an assault, he retired twenty miles down the river, there to await the arrival of Montgomery.

Montgomery joined Arnold on the 1st of December, all his Connecticut men having by this time returned home, so that the united forces of the two generals did not amount to 1,000. On the 5th, a message to surrender being sent to Carleton, the messenger was fired upon. It was then resolved to batter the town, but their artillery was found insufficient for the purpose, and after a siege of three weeks, during which the assailants suffered incredibly from the severity of the season, an assault was resolved upon as the only chance in their desperate circumstances. On the last night of the year, therefore, in the midst of a violent snow-storm, and with the ground several feet deep in snow, the American troops set forth in four divisions, commanded by Montgomery, Arnold, Brown and Livingston; and whilst the two latter were to make a feigned attack on the Upper Town, the two former, each at the head of their respective forces, were to assault the Lower Town at two opposite quarters. Montgomery had already passed the first barrier, the enemy flying before him, when the discharge of a piece of artillery deprived this brave man and two other officers of life. Disheartened by the death of their leader, the next in command ordered a retreat. Arnold, in the meantime, was boldly pushing his way forward into the town, when a ball, while cheering his men onward, shattered his leg. He was unwillingly borne from the combat, while Daniel Morgan, at the head of his Virginian riflemen, pushed forward and made himself master of the second battery. For several hours he and the fragments of the companies who now met, sustained their ground, but at length, overcome by superior numbers, they were obliged to surrender as prisoners of war. Not less than 400 men perished in this unfortunate attempt, and 300 more were made prisoners. Wounded as he was, Arnold retired with the small remains of his army to a distance of three miles, where, covering his camp with ramparts of frozen snow, he kept Quebec in a state of blockade through the winter.

Carleton treated his prisoners with great kindness; they were well fed and clothed, and afterwards allowed a safe return home. This humane policy greatly strengthened the British interests in Canada. Reinforcements arrived early in the spring for Arnold, but small-pox had already broken out among the troops, of which frightful disease General Thomas, who was sent out to supersede Arnold, died. The Americans retreated; and one by one, before midsummer, nearly all the posts which had been taken by them fell into the hands of the British.

In the midst of the anxieties and disturbances of the preceding year, the new province, which is now Kentucky, received still further accession of settlers through the means of Richard Henderson, a North Carolina lawyer, a man of great enterprise and energy, who had purchased a large tract of country from the Cherokees for a few wagon-loads of goods. Henderson, now associated with Boone, the bold hunter and settler of the wilderness, who had already established himself at Boonesburgh, and with other early settlers, especially an adventurous backwoodsman named Harrod, the founder of Harrodsburg, proceeded to organise themselves as the province of Transylvania. Courts and a militia were established, and laws enacted; and soon after a delegate sent thence to the continental congress at Philadelphia. Unfortunately for the new colony, Virginia laid claim to the territory as lying within her charter, and the Transylvanian delegate could not be recognised. About the same time that this early settlement of Kentucky was going forward, 400 families from Connecticut left their old homes to seek new ones under General Lyman, in the province of West Florida.

While the Americans were wasting their strength in unsuccessful attempts in Canada, the seaports of New England were kept in continual alarm by British cruisers, who not only landed to obtain supplies of which the royal forces were in great need, but also sailed under orders to lay waste and destroy in case of resistance. Hence Falmouth, now Portland, a rising town of 500 houses, was burned by Lieutenant Mowatt, which caused an increase of exasperation in the minds of the colonists, and led them also to attempt maritime warfare. Congress authorised the fitting out of thirteen war-frigates, and the raising of two battalions of marines. Privateering was established, and courts of admiralty formed for the adjudication of prizes. All ships of war employed in harassing the colonies, and all vessels bringing supplies to the British forces, were declared lawful prizes.

Great anxiety existed in the mind of the commander-in-chief, owing to the extreme scarcity of ammunition and military stores in his army. The utmost efforts were used to discover lead mines in the country, and to establish the manufacture of saltpetre; a secret committee was also formed for the importation of powder and lead from the West Indies. Another cause of anxiety, and still the greater, existed in the insubordination of the army itself. At the close of 1775, the term of enlistment having in many cases expired, thousands had marched away to their homes, disgusted with the hardships and discomforts of military life. The enthusiasm of patriotism had died out in many breasts; whilst jealousies among the officers, selfishness and faithlessness, gave reason for an anxious looking forward to the future.

In the meantime, the petition of congress to the king, or “the Olive Branch,” as it was called, and which had been intrusted to the care of Richard Penn, grandson of the proprietary, and long time resident in America, had been presented. This was the last hope of the colonists for reconciliation, and the tidings regarding it were anxiously waited for. The news came. His majesty deigned no reply; and in his opening speech to parliament accused the Americans of hostility and rebellion, and declared the object of their taking up arms to be the establishment of their own independence. In vain did the friends of America in the House of Commons earnestly advocate their cause; in vain did the merchants of London again remonstrate against coercive measures; a bill was passed declaring them rebels, prohibiting all trade with the thirteen colonies, and making their ships and goods and all persons trafficing with them, lawful prize. The same act authorised the impressment of the crews of all captured vessels for service in the royal navy. Commissioners of the crown were, however, empowered to pardon and remit from penalty all such colonies or individuals as by ready submission merited such favour. Furthermore, treaties were entered into by the British government with the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel and other German princes, for 17,000 men to be employed against the Americans. Twenty-five thousand additional English troops and a large fleet, abundantly supplied with provisions and military stores, were ordered to America.

These tidings convinced America that she had no longer anything to hope from the mother-country; sorrow, indignation and anxiety filled all hearts. These measures gave, however, by no means unqualified satisfaction, even in England. It is worth recording, as an instance of noble sacrifice to principle, that Lord Effingham, and the eldest son of the Earl of Chatham, threw up their commissions rather than act in this American war, which they considered so unjust. The office of commander-in-chief having been offered likewise to General Oglethorpe, the founder of Georgia, was declined by him naturally enough, and that rank was now held by General Howe.

Howe and his army spent their winter in Boston as best they could, suffering greatly from want of supplies. Fuel was obtained by pulling down houses, and the poorer class of inhabitants were sent out of the city, in order to decrease the consumption of food. Three companies, however, of “Loyal American Associators” were formed; and, spite of puritanism, balls and a theatre were got up by the British officers, and the largest of their meeting-houses was turned into a riding-school.

The growth of the British interests in the colonies was not, however, confined by any means to Boston. New York had long been suspected of a growing partisanship; and the government newspaper, “Rivington’s Gazette,” now became so offensive to the “Sons of Liberty,” that some members of this distinguished body, to the number of seventy-five, rode at noonday to the suspected Tory newspaper-office, broke the presses, and carried off the type; a proceeding which was very satisfactory to the Whig portion of the public, both there and elsewhere. At Albany, too, on the Hudson, at the extreme frontier of New York, the party of loyalists was becoming very formidable, under Sir John and Guy Johnson; the one the head of a colony of Scotch Highlanders, the other the Indian agent there. General Schuyler had already compelled these men to give their word of honour not to take up arms against America; nevertheless, Guy Johnson had withdrawn into Canada with a large body of Mohawks, under the celebrated chief Brandt, who had long served on the British side. Sir John Johnson also fled to Canada, where he too became a powerful adversary, at the head of his “Royal Greens”—two battalions raised from his tenants and dependants.

Nor was Lord Dunmore inactive in the South. Having carried off in his turn a printing-press, he printed and dispersed a proclamation declaring martial law, calling upon all who could bear arms to join him in the king’s name, and offering freedom to all slaves and indented servants of rebels who would join his standard. By this means he gained a great number of adherents, amongst whom were many fugitive slaves, after which he took up his position near the town of Norfolk, where he was defeated by the colonial militia, and again driven to his ships, accompanied by great numbers of royalists. Norfolk was bombarded by him and finally burnt, which was a cause of great indignation in Virginia, this being one of the richest and largest of her towns. Great was the damage which for the next several months Dunmore effected on the coast, burning towns and houses, plundering plantations and carrying off slaves. Finally pursued, harassed, and suffering from want of provisions, he and his adherents were compelled to retire to St. Augustine in the West Indies.

CHAPTER V.
THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued).—EXPULSION OF THE BRITISH FROM BOSTON.—DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.—LOSS OF NEW YORK, ETC.

At the commencement of 1776, the American army under Washington was reduced to little more than 9,000 men. By the united strenuous efforts, however, of congress and the commander-in-chief, it was raised in February, to 14,000, and was moreover brought into a state of more perfect organisation.

His anxieties with regard to the army being now so far removed, Washington resolved to expel the enemy from Boston, which they had occupied so long. A portion of the British troops still being encamped on Bunker’s Hill, where they had lain all the winter and suffered severely, Washington sent a strong detachment on the night of the 4th of March, when there was no moon, to take possession of Dorchester Heights, on the opposite side of the city, and which commanded it entirely. Carrying the necessary tools with them, the Americans silently ascended the heights, and before daylight had thrown up a strong redoubt. The sight of these works astonished General Howe the next morning, and he immediately made preparations for dislodging the Americans, plainly perceiving that unless this were done he must evacuate the city. A violent storm, however, rendered the embarkation of the troops impossible, and the Americans had thus time afforded for the completion of their works.

Before, however, an attack on either side was made, Washington received a proposal that he should allow the British troops to pass out unmolested, on condition that Howe left the town uninjured. Accordingly, on the 17th, the whole British force, amounting to 7,000, with about 2,000 marines, and accompanied by about 1,500 loyalists, quietly left the city and embarked for Halifax. Of the loyalists it must be remarked, that many of them were persons of large property, who thus sacrificed all for the maintenance of principle. Their conduct was admirable, though it met with no reward but misery and ruin. The embarkation occupied eleven days, and as the rear-guard was passing on board, Washington and his troops entered the city, with colours flying and drums beating, while the inhabitants knew not how to give sufficient evidence of their joy. Many fugitive families also now returned to their homes, and all Massachusetts rejoiced exceedingly. A medal was struck, by order of congress, to celebrate this event.

The British fleet sailed for Halifax, Washington being convinced that its ultimate destination would be New York, which, from its central situation and the great number and influential character of the British partisans there, would be an easy and important acquisition. No sooner, therefore, had he placed Boston in a suitable state of defence, than, leaving five regiments there, under the command of General Ward, the main body of the army was put in motion towards New York, which was intended to form his head-quarters. Washington arrived there in April.

The plans of the British for 1776 embraced the recovery of Canada, the reduction of the southern colonies, and the possession of New York. Canada, as we have said, was soon regained; and about the time when the first detachment of Washington’s army reached New York, Sir Henry Clinton appeared off Sandy Hook, with a fleet from England. Finding, however, that any attempts were at this time impracticable, Clinton sailed to the south, and at Cape Fear River was joined by Sir Peter Parker, who had sailed from England with seven regiments on board.

A packet of intercepted letters to Governor Eden and others had given to congress information of the enemy’s intended movements, and General Lee was appointed to the command in the southern provinces. All was in readiness, therefore, at Charleston, the point of attack. The most vigorous means had been used for this purpose throughout the Carolinas. Charleston was fortified, and a fort on Sullivan’s Island at the entrance of Charleston harbour, built of palmetto wood, was garrisoned with about 400 men, and placed under command of Colonel Moultrie.

On the 4th of June, the British fleet appeared off the harbour, and after considerable delay, a strong force having landed under General Clinton, on Long Island, east of Sullivan’s Island, the palmetto fort was subjected to a heavy bombardment; but the balls took little effect, sinking into the soft wood as into a bed of earth, and at the same time three ships, attempting to gain a position between Sullivan’s Island and the shore, were stranded; two of them being afterwards got off with damage, and the third abandoned and burnt. Moultrie and his brave 400 Carolinians defended the fort with such cool and resolute courage, that after an engagement of eight hours, from eleven in the morning to seven in the evening, the British vessels retired with considerable damage and loss, the admiral himself being wounded, and the ex-governor, Lord Campbell, who fought on the flag-ship, mortally so. The loss of the garrison was only ten killed and twenty-two wounded. This fort has borne the name of Moultrie ever since.

One little incident of this attack may be related, as it proves the cool courage of the garrison. At one moment, after a heavy cannonade, the anxious Americans, who were watching the fight from the shore, beheld the American flag suddenly disappear from the ramparts. They now feared that it was all over, and expected to see the British ascend the parapets in triumph. But no! a moment afterwards and again the republican banner was floating on the walls. The fact was, that the flag-staff was shot away and the banner fell outside the fort, when, without a moment’s hesitation, a sergeant of the name of Jasper leaped over the walls, and amid a shower of English bullets returned with the flag and hoisted it once more. Within a few days after this repulse, the British set sail, with all their troops on board, for the neighbourhood of New York.

Thirty-five thousand men, well supplied with provisions and all the necessary munitions of war, were now in array against the Americans. It was evident that Britain would remit none of her demands, and now aimed at nothing but the entire subjection of the colonies. For a long time, and even after they appeared in arms, had the colonies sincerely wished to preserve their allegiance to the monarch and attachment to the mother-country. Now, however, a change was rapidly taking place in their feelings; the sentiment of loyalty was giving way before republican principles and the desire for independence.

Early in this year, Thomas Paine, a recent emigrant to America and editor of the “Pennsylvania Magazine,” published a pamphlet, called “Common Sense,” which spoke out at once the secret sentiment of the people. It went direct to the point, showing in the simplest but strongest language the folly of keeping up the British connexion, and the absolute necessity which existed for separation. The cause of independence took, as it were, a definite form from this moment.

Early in May, in accordance with the growing sentiment of the public, congress, on the motion of John Adams, recommended to the colonies no longer to consider themselves as holding authority under Great Britain. “The exercise of all powers of government,” said congress, soon after, “must be under authority from the people of the colonies, for the maintenance of internal peace, the defence of their lives, liberties and properties, against the hostile invasions and cruel depredations of their enemies.”

Virginia had already acted on these principles, and other colonies soon followed the example. On June the 7th, Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, at the request of his colleagues, formally introduced into congress a motion declaring that, “The United Colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown; and that their political connexion with Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved.” This important resolution, like all other proceedings of congress, was debated with closed doors, and finally was carried; though it encountered great opposition from some even of the warmest friends of American independence, but who now considered it premature. It was carried by a bare majority, and then left for final deliberation on the 1st of July.

In the meantime, a committee, consisting of Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger Sherman, and R. R. Livingstone, had been appointed to draw up a declaration in accordance with the purport of the resolution. Each, it was agreed by the committee, should prepare such a statement as his own judgment might dictate; all should then be compared, and the most complete selected; or one be finally drawn up from all. The one prepared by Thomas Jefferson was at once, it is said, declared by his brother committeemen to be so superior to the rest that it was unanimously adopted, with but little alteration.

The Declaration of Independence was read in congress on the day appointed. Delegates for nine out of the thirteen colonies adopted it at once. New York declined to vote for want of instructions; Delaware was divided; the delegates of Pennsylvania were three for and four against it; of South Carolina one for and three against. On the 4th of July it received the votes of all, with the exception of New York, which, however, was formally given a few days afterwards.

Miss Bremer tells us, in her recent work on America, that everything in the hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed, is preserved as it was then to the present day. The green table still stands, around which the members of the government sat, and upon which this important document was signed. She relates also an amusing expression of Benjamin Franklin’s on this occasion. Some of those present appeared doubtful and uncertain as to whether it were wise to sign, and were half-inclined to draw back. “Nay, gentlemen,” said some one, wishing to insure their adherence, “let us not be divided, let us all hang together.” “Yes,” said Franklin, in his quiet way, “or else we shall all have to hang separately!” All laughed and all signed.

The Declaration of Independence for the whole Thirteen United States went abroad, and was received by demonstrations of joy. Public rejoicings were made, and the ensigns of royalty everywhere destroyed; leaden statues of the monarch being, wherever found, melted down for bullets. The legal position of the Tory party now became very serious. Many of these, being persons of high principle as well as of education and wealth, were exposed to the violence of political mobs, whose practices of tarring, feathering and carting, were disgraceful to the cause of liberty, of which they called themselves the supporters. As party-feeling in the course of the war grew more violent, the sufferings of the royalist party became extreme. The new state governments enforced obedience to their authority by severe penalties, confiscation of property, imprisonment, banishment, and finally death. As yet, however, they contented themselves with admonitions, fines, recognisances to keep the peace and prohibitions to go beyond certain bounds.[[15]]

Besides all these important measures in congress, it must be borne in mind that money had to be raised for the carrying on of the war. The United States congress had already an enormous debt, and again about £1,000,000 was issued in paper money.

Whilst the Declaration of Independence was occupying congress, General Howe arrived on June 25th from Halifax before Sandy Hook, just by New York, and on the 2nd of July took possession of Staten Island. On July 12th, Admiral, brother of General Howe, arrived from England with large reinforcements, and soon after, Sir Henry Clinton, with his fleet from the south. General Howe thus found himself at the head of 24,000 of the finest troops in Europe, well-appointed and supplied; while further reinforcements were expected daily, which would swell his numbers to 55,000.

As Washington had supposed, the intention of the British was to gain possession of New York, and having command of the Hudson river, open communication with Canada, and thus separate the eastern from the middle states and be able to carry the war into the interior; while Long Island, adjacent to New York, which abounded in grain and cattle, would afford subsistence to the army. By the middle of summer, as we have already seen, the American forces were driven out of Canada, and the northern frontier exposed to attack.

One of Washington’s first measures, on taking up his quarters in New York, where the British party was strong, was to prevent any communication with the enemy’s ships, or between the ex-governor Tryon, who had been for some time on board the Asia in the harbour, and his friends in the town. Nor were these precautions needless; among other plots discovered was one for seizing Washington, and conveying him on board a British ship, some of Washington’s own soldiers having been corrupted for that purpose, one of whom was tried by court-martial and shot in consequence. The mayor also of the city was imprisoned for carrying on a correspondence with Tryon.

Although the force under Washington at this time amounted to 27,000 men, yet great numbers were again undisciplined militia, many invalids, and all very indifferently provided with arms. The really effective force amounted, perhaps, to 17,000. Among other distinguished men who now entered the American service was Thadeus Kosciusko, afterwards so distinguished in Poland, and who served during the whole war as an engineer.

Soon after the landing of the British army, the admiral, Lord Howe, who had brought with him from England authority to the royal governors “to grant pardon and exception from penalty of all such colonies or individuals as might by speedy submission merit that favour,” sent a letter containing a statement of this authority, and an offer of pardon to all who would submit. This letter was directed to George Washington, Esq. Washington, however, declined receiving in his private capacity any communication from the enemies of his country; the style of the address was then changed to that of George Washington, etc., etc., etc., and it was requested that the offer of pardon contained in the letter might be made known as widely as possible. Congress ordered it to be published in every newspaper throughout the Union, “that everybody might see how Great Britain was insidiously endeavouring to amuse and disarm them;” and replied, that “not considering that their opposition to British tyranny was a crime, they therefore could not solicit pardon.”

Nothing being gained by this attempt at conciliation, the British now proceeded to the prosecution of the war, which they were prepared to carry on with the utmost vigour. Washington, aware that the enemy would advance to New York by way of Long Island, had entrenched a portion of the American army, 9,000 strong, at Brooklyn, opposite New York, under General Greene. Greene, unfortunately, being taken dangerously ill, the command was transferred to Israel Putnam, who, being a stranger to the ground and unacquainted with the works, was not qualified for the command of so important a position.

On August 22nd, the English landed on the southern shore of Long Island, and advanced to within four miles of the American camp, between themselves and which stretched a range of wooded hills, through which ran two roads, while a third followed the shore at the western base of the hills. On the 27th, dividing their forces into three divisions, under Grant, Heisler and Clinton, the British silently advanced at night by these three several roads towards the American army. Early in the morning, Clinton, proceeding by the eastern road, having seized an important defile, which through carelessness had been left unguarded, descended with the morning light into the plain, and within sight of the American camp. In the meantime General Sullivan, who, on the first alarm of the British approach, had hastened out to meet them with a considerable force, had fallen in with Generals Grant and Heisler; whilst Clinton, who by this time was safe on the plain, hastened forward and threw himself between Sullivan’s corps and the American camp. The moment Clinton’s approach had been perceived, the Americans attempted a retreat, but it was too late. The English drove back upon Heisler’s Hessians, and thus locked in between two hostile armies, some few managed to escape, but the greater number were killed or taken prisoners. It was a disastrous day. The true number of the Americans killed was never ascertained; about 1,000 were taken prisoners. The English lost only about 400. The victors, 15,000 strong, encamped directly opposite the American lines. Among the prisoners were Generals Sullivan, Stirling and Woodhull, late president of the provincial congress. This latter was taken the day after the battle, being surprised with a small party driving off cattle. He was wounded and treated with such cruel neglect that his wounds mortified and he died. The Tories of Long Island, who had been treated with severity, now retorted the same on the adverse party.[[16]]

This defeat was more disastrous even than the loss of so much life, in the effect which it produced on the American mind. The utmost doubt and depression prevailed, and again regiments which were enlisted only on a short term, quitted the service the moment it had expired, and even in some cases deserted before that was the case.

The British not following up their advantage immediately, Washington, aware that his position could not be maintained, withdrew silently to New York on the night of the 29th, greatly to the surprise and vexation of the enemy; who, however, had now the entire and undisputed possession of Long Island. A descent upon New York was the next object of the British commanders; but before this was attempted, another endeavour was made for compromise and accommodation. Howe sent over his prisoner, General Sullivan, to desire a conference for this purpose, offering an exchange of Generals Sullivan and Stirling for Generals Prescott and M‘Donald, which took place; and a deputation, consisting of Benjamin Franklin, John Adams and Edward Rutledge, met the British commissioners on Staten Island; but no favourable result followed, the American deputies insisting that “the Associated Colonies should not accede to any peace or alliance but as free and independent states.”

This attempt having again failed, the next movement was to enlist a loyalist force. Oliver Delaney, brother of a former governor of New York, and Courtlandt Skinner, late attorney-general of New Jersey, were commissioned to raise four battalions each; while Tryon, still claiming to be governor of New York, was appointed major-general. Landing a considerable force in the city of New York, Washington, on the 12th of September, removed his head-quarters to the heights of Harlem, seven miles above the city. The British fleet appeared in the Sound and sailed up each side of Manhattan, or New York Island, on which New York stands; a battery was erected, and while the attention of the Americans was diverted by the fire from Howe’s ships stationed in the East River and the Hudson, he landed his troops at Bloomingdale, about five miles above the city and only two from the American camp. Troops had been stationed to guard this landing; but seeing now the advantage gained by the alacrity of the English, they fled panic-stricken, without even firing a gun, as did also two New England brigades, in company with Washington, who had come down to view the ground. Washington, thus left undefended, except by his immediate attendants, within eighty paces of the enemy, was so distressed and excited by their dastardly conduct, that he exclaimed, “Are these the men with whom I am to defend America?” His attendants turned his horse’s head, and hurried him from the field.[[17]] The next day, a skirmish taking place, the Americans retrieved their character in some degree, though it was with the loss of two able officers.

The loyalists of New York received the British army with the utmost joy. A few nights after, a fire breaking out, which destroyed the largest church and about one-third of the city, this disaster was attributed to “the Sons of Liberty,” some of whom, seized on suspicion by the British soldiers, were thrown into the flames. The fire, however, is supposed to have originated in accident.

The utmost depression prevailed in the American camp at Harlem. The favour of Heaven, it was feared, had deserted their cause. Anxiety, despondency and dread filled all hearts; and sickness, the necessary concomitant of such a state of mind, prevailed greatly. There were no proper hospitals; the sick lay in barns and sheds, and even in the open air under walls and fences. The army was wasting away by the expiration of service and desertion; few would enlist. It seemed as if ere long America must yield from the mere inability to sustain her army. Washington did his utmost to revive hope and courage, and also appealed to congress for aid, without which success was impossible. A bounty of twenty dollars was offered therefore on enlistment, and grants of land promised to the soldiers and officers. So far good; in the meantime, Washington was unwilling to risk a general engagement, and Howe also on his side not venturing to attack the American camp, satisfied himself by making a movement to gain Washington’s rear, in order to cut off his connexion with the eastern states and thus prevent his receiving supplies from that quarter. For this purpose a portion of the royal troops was withdrawn from New York to Westchester, while three frigates were sent up the Hudson, to prevent any intercourse with New Jersey. Reinforcements were received by the British army.

Washington, to avoid being thus enclosed on all sides, crossed over with his army from New York Island, and took up his position along the western bank of the Bronx River, which separated him from the English, and so extending towards White Plains. On the 28th of October, a skirmish took place, in which the Americans were driven from their ground with considerable loss; immediately after which, Washington took up a much stronger position on the heights of North Castle, about five miles further northward.

Discontinuing the pursuit of Washington, Howe now turned his attention to the American posts on the Hudson, with the design of entering New Jersey. Aware of this intention, Washington crossed the Hudson with his army, and joined General Greene at Fort Lee, on the western bank of the Hudson, at the town of Hackensack in New Jersey, three miles only to the south-west of Fort Washington, where was a garrison of 3,000 men, and ten miles only from New York city. Scarcely, however, were these arrangements made, when Fort Washington was assaulted by a strong British force. The commander, Colonel Magaw, made a brave defence and the assailants lost 400 men in gaining the outworks; but no sooner were the British within the fort, than the garrison, to the number of 2,000, overcome with terror, refused to offer any resistance, and all, together with a great quantity of artillery, fell into the hands of the British.[[18]] Two days afterwards Lord Cornwallis crossed the Hudson with 6,000 men, against Fort Lee, which also surrendered with the loss of baggage and military stores.

Misfortune was the order of the day. Alarm and distrust increased; Washington and his daily diminishing army fled from point to point. The New York convention moved its sittings from one place to another, the members often sitting with arms in their hands to prevent surprise; when just at this disastrous crises, new alarm arose from the proposed rising of the Tories in aid of the British. Many suspected Tories, therefore, were seized, their property confiscated and themselves sent into Connecticut for safety. The gaols were full; so also were the churches, now employed as prisons, while numbers were kept on parole. These resolute measures effected their purpose; the Tory party yielded to a force which they were not yet strong enough to control, and deferred active co-operation with the British to a yet more favourable time.

On the last day of November, the American army amounted but to 3,000 men, and was then retreating into an open country at the commencement of winter, without tents, blankets, or intrenching tools, and but imperfectly clad. The prospect was hopeless in the extreme. The towns of Newark, New Brunswick, Princetown, and Trenton, all in New Jersey, were taken possession of by the British. Finally, Washington, on the 8th of December, crossed the Delaware, which was now the only barrier between the English and Philadelphia. The first state legislature of New Jersey, of which William Livingston was governor, like that of New York, had been driven, during these commotions, from one place to another; nor had their most urgent endeavours to call out a militia been availing, so depressed was the public mind.

Nor was the prospect more cheering in Pennsylvania. The hearts of many began to fail them; and saving for the energy of Mifflin and a few others, the American party in Philadelphia might have gradually melted away. But Israel Putnam had command of the city, and Mifflin put forth all his eloquence, and patriotism and courage still survived. In the meantime the disasters of the Americans were not ended. General Lee, an ambitious and conceited man, who ranked his own military experience as superior to that of the commander-in-chief, instead of hastening across the Hudson to join the main army, as Washington had earnestly requested him to do without loss of time, determined on a brilliant and independent achievement which should at once startle both English and Americans, and give him a great reputation. Lingering, therefore, among the hills of New Jersey while he decided what his great exploit should be, he lodged one night with a small guard at a house some little distance from his army, when he was surprised by a body of British cavalry sent there for the purpose, and carried prisoner to New York. The command of his troops falling on General Sullivan, the latter conducted them without further delay to join Washington, whose forces were thus increased to 7,000 men.

On the very day also on which Washington crossed the Delaware, a British squadron from New York, under command of Sir Peter Parker, took possession of Newport in Rhode Island, the second city in New England, the few troops stationed there abandoning the place without a blow for its defence. The American squadron, under Commodore Hopkins, was thus blocked up in Providence River, where it lay for a long time useless.

Having gained this important hold on the colonies both by land and sea, the Howes issued, as royal commissioners, a proclamation “commanding all insurgents to disband, and all political bodies to relinquish their assumed authority, granting sixty days within which to make this submission.” On this, great numbers of wealthy persons, many of whom had already been active in the revolutionary movements, to the amount even of from two to three hundred a day, came in to make the required submission. The cause of American independence appeared hopeless, and would have been so had all the people been cowards and time-servers. But there were thousands of true hearts left within her yet. Congress, sitting at that time at Philadelphia, adjourned to Baltimore in Maryland, and Washington was invested for six months with unlimited powers. Authority was given him to raise sixteen battalions of infantry, in addition to those already voted, and to appoint officers; the bounty on enlistment was increased, as were also grants of land for service. He was also empowered to raise and equip 3,000 light horse, three regiments of artillery, and a corps of engineers; to call out the militia of the different states; to displace and appoint all officers under the rank of brigadier-general, and to fill up all vacancies. He was further authorised to take whatever he might require for the use of the army at his own price, and to arrest and confine all such as should refuse the continental money, a new trouble which had arisen, owing to the vast issue of paper money. The entire power was thus placed in the hands of Washington, and he was worthy of the confidence.

Christmas was now at hand, and gloom and despondency pervaded the American mind. The sixty days were passing on, and the timid and vacillating were giving in their adherence to the British, when Washington, as it were, rose up and girded his loins for action. Aware that the festivities of the season would be fully enjoyed in the British camp, he resolved to avail himself of the time for an unexpected attack, and selected the Hessians stationed at Trenton as its object. On Christmas-eve, therefore, he set out with 2,500 picked men and six pieces of artillery, intending to cross the Delaware nine miles below Trenton, while two other forces, under Generals Cadwallader and Irving, were to cross at other points at the same time. The river was full of floating masses of ice, and it was only after great difficulty and danger that the landing was effected by four o’clock in the morning, when, amid a heavy snow-storm, Washington’s force advanced towards Trenton; the other bodies under Cadwallader and Irving not having been able to effect a landing at all.

It was eight o’clock when Washington reached Trenton, where, as he expected, the Hessians, fast asleep after a night’s debauch, were easily surprised. Their commander was slain, and their artillery taken, together with a thousand prisoners. Of the Americans two only were killed, two frozen to death, and a few wounded, among whom was Lieutenant Monroe, afterwards president of the United States. Without waiting for any movement on the part of the British, whose forces so far outnumbered the Americans, Washington immediately re-crossed the Delaware, and entered Philadelphia in a sort of triumph with his prisoners.

This unexpected and brilliant achievement created an immediate reaction. Several regiments, whose term of enlistment was about expiring, agreed to serve six weeks longer, and militia from the adjoining provinces marched in. Nor was the effect on the British less striking. General Howe, astounded by this sudden movement in the depth of winter, in an enemy whom he considered already crushed, detained Lord Cornwallis, then just setting out for England, and despatched him with additional forces to New Jersey, to regain the ground which had been lost. Washington, in the meantime, knowing the importance of maintaining the advantage he had gained, re-crossed the Delaware, and established himself at Trenton, where reinforcements were ordered immediately to join him. On January 2nd, 1777, Lord Cornwallis, with the van of the British army, approached. On this, Washington withdrew to some high ground on the eastern bank of a small river which divides the town, and commenced to entrench himself. The British attempting to cross, a sharp cannonade ensued, which produced little effect on either side, when Cornwallis, thinking it most prudent to wait for reinforcements which he expected the next day, encamped for the night.

Washington knew that his position was a very hazardous one. It was a great risk to wait for a battle, with his 5,000 men, most of them militia, new to the camp, and that against a greatly superior and well-disciplined force. To re-cross the Delaware, then still more obstructed with floating ice, was equally dangerous, with the enemy behind him. With great sagacity and courage, therefore, he decided on a bold scheme, which fortunately was executed with equal courage and skill. This was no other than to attack the enemy’s rear at Princetown, and, if possible, gain possession of his artillery and baggage.

Replenishing, therefore, his camp fires, and silently sending his own heavy baggage to Burlington, and leaving parties still busied at their entrenchments within hearing of the enemy, Washington marched with his army, about midnight, towards Princetown, where three British regiments had passed the night, two of which, marching out to join Cornwallis, were met and attacked about sunrise by the Americans. A sharp conflict took place, and the Americans were giving way, General Mercer, an officer of great promise, being mortally wounded, when Washington and his select corps came up, and the battle was renewed. One division of the British fled to New Brunswick, the rest rallied and continued their march to Trenton. About 400 of the British were killed and wounded; the American loss was somewhat less.

At dawn, Lord Cornwallis beheld the deserted camp of the Americans and heard the roar of the cannonade at Princetown, on which, discovering Washington’s artifice, and fearful lest his military stores and baggage at New Brunswick should fall into his hands, he immediately put his army in motion, and reached Princetown when the Americans were about to leave it. Again was Washington in great danger. “His troops,” says Hildreth, “were exhausted; all had been one night without sleep, and some of them longer; many had no blankets; others were barefoot; all were very thinly clad.” Under these circumstances the attack on New Brunswick was abandoned, and Washington retired to strong winter-quarters at Morristown. There he remained till spring, having, in fact, repossessed himself, in the most masterly manner, of New Jersey. General Putnam was stationed at Princetown, and other officers at various places, and skirmishes went on continually, in which the Americans were mostly successful, being eagerly joined by the inhabitants, who had many wrongs and ravages to complain of. The British, in fact, suffered greatly through the winter, from want of forage and fresh provisions.

The effect of Washington’s rapid successes in the Jerseys was like a succession of electric shocks through the states; and even to this day it is said, when any unexpected and exciting intelligence is about to be given, the phrase “Great news from the Jerseys!” is made use of.

“The recovery of the Jerseys,” to use again the words of the able historian Hildreth, “by the fragments of a defeated army, which had seemed just before on the point of dissolution, gained Washington a high reputation, not only at home, but in Europe, where the progress of the campaign had been watched with great interest, and where the disastrous loss of New York and the retreat through the Jerseys had given the impression that America would not be able to maintain her independence. The recovery of the Jerseys created a reaction. The American general was extolled as a Fabius, whose prudence availed his country no less than his valour. At home, also, these successes had the best effect. The recruiting service, which before had been almost at a stand, began to revive, and considerable progress was again made in organising the new army.”

The powers with which congress had invested the commander-in-chief enabled him to make many important changes and provisions for the well-being of his troops. For instance, the whole hospital department, which had been very inefficiently filled, was now reorganised; and in order to prevent the visitation of small-pox, which had proved hitherto a fatal scourge in the army, every recruit was properly inoculated before entering the service. An exchange of prisoners took place also at this time, though the British at first refused, on the plea that the Americans were rebels. The number of prisoners amounted to about 5,000 in the hands of the British, and 3,000 in those of the Americans. Great indignation was excited in consequence of the condition to which, it was discovered, the Americans taken at Long Island and Fort Washington were reduced by the hardships of their confinement. They were placed in the custody of the New York Tory party, by whom they had been so cruelly treated that many had died, and the rest were so emaciated and feeble that Washington refused to return an equal number of well-conditioned Hessians and British.

Congress, in the meantime, was again sitting at Philadelphia, and wiser heads or braver hearts never met for a country’s need. The business which occupied them was of the most momentous character.

Though Hopkins and his squadron were blocked up at Providence, privateering had been carried on, principally by New England frigates, to a great extent. The homeward-bound British ships from the West Indies offered rich prizes, and in the year just concluded no less than 350 British ships had been captured. A new foreign trade had also been opened with France, Spain and Holland, principally by way of the West Indies; and though great risk attended it, still it was the successful commencement of the great American trade; and the national flag of thirteen stars and stripes, as appointed by congress, was now first hoisted in this maritime service.

By no European nation was the progress of the war of independence in America watched with more interest than by France, who still was smarting under the loss of her American possessions; hence the American privateer found ever a ready sale for his prizes in the French ports; and armed French vessels, sailing under American commissions, were secretly fitted out. Early in the struggle with the mother-country, the colonies had avowed their reliance on foreign aid, if necessary; and at the commencement of the preceding year, Silas Deane, member of congress for Connecticut, had gone to Paris, ostensibly as a private merchant, but, in fact, to negotiate with France for the supply of arms and ammunition.

After the Declaration of Independence, however, Benjamin Franklin was openly sent to Paris, and other persons to different European courts, for the same purpose. “The distinguished talents, high reputation, and great personal popularity of Dr. Franklin,” says Willson, “were highly successful in increasing the general enthusiasm which began to be felt in behalf of the Americans.” His efforts were in the end successful; and although France delayed for a while the recognition of American independence, yet she began to act with less reserve, and by lending assistance in various ways—by loans, gifts, supplies of arms, provisions and clothing—she materially aided the Americans. The tardy action, however, of the French court was outdone by the general zeal of the nation. Numerous volunteers, the most eminent of whom was the young Marquis de Lafayette, offered to risk their fortunes and bear arms in the cause of American liberty. Lafayette fitted out a vessel at his own expense, and in the spring of 1777 arrived in America. He at first enlisted as a volunteer in Washington’s army, declining all pay for his services; but congress soon after bestowed upon him the appointment of major-general.

While all these important affairs were going on in the north, the western frontier of the Carolinas and Georgia was again visited by Indian warfare, which was only concluded by the Cherokees ceding a large portion of territory. About the same time, the newly-attempted colony of Transylvania quietly gave up its plans of independent existence and became a portion of Virginia, the new county of Kentucky including the whole of the present state of that name.

CHAPTER VI.
THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued), 1777.

The fear of the invasion of Canada by the British, had, as we have already seen, led the Americans to make a disastrous attempt at the conquest of that province. The so-much-feared invasion was now at hand. In the meantime, as the spring of 1777 advanced, although as yet the main armies were inactive, various little attacks and reprisals were made. An armament sent up the Hudson by Howe for that purpose destroyed the military stores of the Americans at Peekskill, and General Lincoln, stationed at Boundbrook in New Jersey, was surprised by Lord Cornwallis, and escaped only with the loss of a considerable portion of his baggage and about sixty lives. A few days afterwards, Tryon, late governor of New York, at the head of 2,000 men, landed in Connecticut and advanced to Danbury, an inland town, where a large quantity of provisions was collected; having destroyed these, set fire to the town, and committed various acts of atrocity, he departed as rapidly as he had come. Arnold and Wooster, however, pursued him at the head of militia, hastily collected for that purpose, and three several attacks were made, in which the veteran and greatly respected Wooster was killed and Arnold had two horses shot under him. Tryon made good his escape with a loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners, of about 300; and congress, in acknowledgment of Arnold’s bravery, presented him with a horse fully caparisoned, and raised him to the rank of major-general. In return, a small party of Americans under Colonel Meigs landed on Long Island, destroyed twelve vessels, and took a large quantity of provisions and forage collected at Sag Harbour, and carried off ninety prisoners, without himself losing a single man. Another little triumph of the Americans is worth recording. General Prescott, who had been taken prisoner at Montreal, two years before, when Governor Carleton made his escape, now being stationed at Newport in Rhode Island, irritated the Americans no little by offering a reward for the capture of Arnold; on which Arnold, in return, offered half the amount for the capture of Prescott. Accordingly, it being presently ascertained that Prescott frequented without precaution a country-house near the town, a party of forty men under one Colonel Barton set out with the intention of carrying him off, landed at night on the island, entered the house, and taking the general from his bed, hurried away with their prize. Until now the Americans had not been able to ransom their General Lee, who had been taken much in the same manner, and the two officers were shortly exchanged.

In the meantime Washington remained with his army at Morristown, waiting with great anxiety the development of the enemy’s plans of operation, and increasing his own strength by the arrival of recruits, who still came in only slowly. The plans of the British general appeared for a long time uncertain, whether to march directly upon Philadelphia or to co-operate with Burgoyne, who had now assumed the command in Canada. In the north, the American army was so very feeble, that it was feared lest Ticonderoga, almost the sole remains of the American conquests in that quarter, might be seized by a sudden movement from Canada over the ice. The service in the north was indeed so unpopular, that a species of conscription was obliged to be resorted to in order to fill up the regiments. Indeed the reluctance to serve was felt so generally throughout the northern provinces, that the prohibition against the enlistment of negro-slaves was removed, and now recruits of any colour were joyfully received, and many negro-slaves gained their freedom in this manner. In the south, also, indented servants enlisting were declared to be freemen.

As spring came on, General Burgoyne, who had served in Canada under Governor Carleton, and who had gone to England for the purpose of urging upon parliament the reduction of America by a powerful descent upon the colonies by the way of Lake Champlain and the Hudson, returned with a large army and military stores for that purpose.

GENERAL BURGOYNE AND THE INDIANS.

On the 16th of June, Burgoyne, at the head of an army of nearly 10,000 men, British and German, with a great number of Canadians and Indians, set forth on his expedition. His first encampment was on the western shore of Lake Champlain, near Crown Point, where he met the Six Nations in council, and was joined by about 400 of those powerful warriors. Burgoyne, however, so little understood the character of the red men, that he addressed them in a very pompous speech, endeavouring to induce them to alter their irregular mode of warfare. To just as little purpose was the proclamation which he issued at the same time, in an equally pompous manner, in which, after demonstrating his own power and that of the British, he threatened the colonists with extermination, before the fury of the savage Indian, if they persisted in resisting his arms.

Burgoyne’s plan of operation was, after taking Ticonderoga, to advance upon Albany on the Hudson, where he would be met by Colonel St. Leger, who, with 2,000 men, chiefly Canadians and Indians, was to proceed by way of Oswego, against Fort Schuyler or Stanwix, and so gain the same point, after which both armies were to join General Clinton at New York.

Two days after Burgoyne had published his formidable proclamation, he appeared before Ticonderoga, then garrisoned by General St. Clair with about 3,000 men. Spite of all the labour and expense which had been bestowed on this fort, one important circumstance had been most singularly overlooked. The fort was commanded by a neighbouring height, called Mount Defiance, which being considered inaccessible, had been left undefended. Burgoyne, however, at once perceiving the advantage to be obtained by the possession of this height, lost no time in preparing to gain it, and three days after he had made his appearance, his artillery was placed on the summit. St. Clair seeing that no chance remained for himself and his troops, resolved upon immediate evacuation. The baggage and stores, under the convoy of the last remains of the American flotilla, were secretly despatched down to Skeensborough, and the troops also in two divisions, the one under St. Clair, the other, which left two hours later, under Colonel Francis, commenced their retreat at the dead of night, but were discovered by the enemy owing to the accidental burning of a building on an adjoining height. The next morning, therefore, the rear division was overtaken by General Fraser at the head of a British troop, near Hubbardton, where an engagement took place, in which the Americans were routed, and flying before the enemy, spread throughout the adjoining country the terror of the British arms. One thousand Americans were killed, wounded and taken prisoners on this disastrous day, among the former of whom was Colonel Francis. Nor was this all; General Reidesel with a corps of Germans pursued and overtook the American stores and baggage, which fell into his hands; and the garrison of Skeensborough, on learning this melancholy intelligence and of the approach of Burgoyne, set fire to the works, and fled to Fort Anne, half-way between them and the Hudson. Pursuit followed; a skirmish took place, and in the infectious terror of the time, having set fire to the works of Fort Anne, they fled to Fort Edward, the head-quarters of General Schuyler. At this same point, also, arrived St. Clair, who with his division had been wandering about for seven days. Thus, after defeat and flight, were assembled the whole force of the American northern army, amounting only to 5,000 men, many of whom were only hastily-summoned militia, wholly unorganised, while of ammunition there was great scarcity.

Again despondency and gloom overspread the American mind. The successes of Burgoyne came, says Hildreth, like a thunderclap on congress. “We shall never be able to defend a fort,” wrote John Adams, “till we shoot a general.” Disasters, the inevitable result of weakness, were attributed to the incapacity or cowardice of the officers. The New England prejudice against Schuyler revived, and all the northern generals in fact were recalled; and but for the interference of Washington, the northern army must have been disbanded for want of officers. Schuyler, in the meantime, was doing the best that he could under existing circumstances. Before leaving the various positions, he took every means to annoy and impede the movements of the enemy, obstructing navigation, breaking up roads and bridges, and closing up every passable defile by felling trees on either side, which, interlacing their branches in the fall, formed an almost insuperable barrier. Schuyler, in whom, however, Washington never lost confidence, was superseded, and Gates was appointed by congress to take his place. Reinforcements also were sent up; Daniel Morgan with his rifle corps, the impetuous and bold Arnold and Lincoln, who was a great favourite with the Massachusetts men. Kosciusko was also in the army as its principal engineer.

Burgoyne, making himself sure of speedily establishing the royal power in the north, called a convention by proclamation for concerting measures for this purpose. A circumstance connected with the history of Vermont, as an infant state, gave him additional hopes of the popular adhesion in this quarter. Vermont having organised herself into an independent state, had solicited admission into the union as such, and been refused, through the influence of New York, who claimed that country as a portion of her territory. Burgoyne was, however, disappointed in his hopes; Vermont entertained no feelings of animosity; and Schuyler, in return, published his counter-proclamation, threatening the punishment of traitors to all who foreswore their allegiance to American independence.

Burgoyne, not without great difficulty, at length reached the Hudson, to the great joy of the British army; and Schuyler, unable to face him, retreated to Saratoga, where the tidings of new disasters soon reached him. Burgoyne had several weeks before despatched Colonel St. Leger, with Sir John Johnson and his Royal Greens, together with a body of Canadian rangers, and the formidable Brandt and his savages, to harass the western frontier of New York. Fort Schuyler, commanded by Colonels Gansevoost and Willett, was attacked, and General Herkimer, hastening to his relief with militia, which he had raised for that purpose, fell into an ambush near the fort and was mortally wounded, besides losing 400 men, amongst whom were many of the leading patriots of that part of the country. This was sad news for Schuyler, and as the north-west abounded in Tories, it was necessary, if possible, to relieve Fort Schuyler, so as to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy, which would cause, it was apprehended, a general disaffection. Arnold volunteered to undertake this perilous service, and Schuyler, having despatched him with three regiments, withdrew from Saratoga to the islands at the confluence of the Mohawk and Hudson rivers.

Although success had followed the British, and Burgoyne was in possession of so many strong posts, and had command of Lakes Champlain and George, and great amount of stores and provisions lay at Fort George for his use, yet the means of transport were so difficult, that the army was reduced to the greatest straits. To obtain immediate supplies, therefore, he despatched Colonel Baum, a German officer of rank, with 500 men, together with a body of Canadians and Indians, to seize a quantity of provisions which the Americans had stored at Bennington. There was at this time at Bennington, under the command of Colonel Stark, a corps of New Hampshire militia, raised by a merchant of Portsmouth, named Langdon, on the news of the loss of Ticonderoga. As soon as Stark heard of the attack which was to be made on the stores, he sent off for Seth Warner’s Green Mountain Boys, his own force having also been strengthened by volunteers and fugitives from the defeat at Hubbardton. Baum, seeing Stark prepared for him, entrenched himself about six miles from Bennington, intending to make an attack the following day. But violent rain came on, and both Stark and Baum deferred any movement, both hoping for reinforcements, Baum from Colonel Breyman, who was marching to his assistance, and Stark from the Green Mountain Boys, who were hourly expected. But the violence of the weather kept both back, and the next morning, Stark, at the head of his New Hampshire men, marched out to meet the enemy. The address of Stark to his men is worthy of being remembered. “There they are;” said he, pointing to the British; “there they are! We must beat them, my boys, or Molly Stark will be a widow this night!”

The assault was vigorous, and after a desperate fight of about two hours the intrenchments were carried, Baum was killed, and the Germans were mostly slain or taken prisoners, and the Indians and Canadians fled to the woods. Hardly, however, was the victory gained, when Breyman and his reinforcements appeared, and the fight was renewed, Seth Warner and his brave Boys having fortunately appeared at the same moment on the other side. The battle lasted till dark, and then Breyman fled, leaving his baggage and artillery behind him. The British lost about 600, the greater number however being taken prisoners, besides 1,000 stand of arms and four pieces of artillery. The American loss was merely fourteen killed and forty-two wounded.

This defeat was the turning point in the career of the British; the tidings dispirited and embarrassed them, and for the first time showed their grand plan of dividing the northern from the southern provinces to be doubtful. The effect on the Americans was still greater; hope and confidence woke anew, and the worthy Schuyler might soon have regained his character, had not Gates appeared a few days afterwards to assume the command. Schuyler, however, like a true patriot, who is able to sink self-interest in the well-being of his country, removed merely to Albany, where he continued to render every possible assistance to the carrying on of the campaign. Gates was also immediately joined by Daniel Morgan and his riflemen, and by a New Hampshire regiment.

The tide had now completely turned. Not only had Stark’s victory revived the hopes of the Americans, but the cruelties and treacheries of Burgoyne’s Indian allies had roused the popular indignation, and the tragical fate of a young woman, while it called forth universal sympathy, completed the measure of hatred which was given to the British. Jenny M‘Crea, a young lady of Fort Edward, the daughter of a loyalist family, and betrothed to a loyalist officer, was murdered in the woods by the Indian guard whom her lover had appointed to conduct her to a place of safety, and whose fidelity he believed secured by a promised reward. On the road, however, it appeared that the Indians quarrelled respecting this reward, and the poor girl was murdered in the dispute, her bloody scalp with its long tresses being the Indian signal to the lover of the cruel fate of his mistress. Such was Burgoyne’s version of this tragedy; but besides the daughter, the whole family was murdered, they being carried off to the woods, murdered and scalped in a most barbarous manner. These cruel individual instances, which every man and woman would take home to themselves, roused the whole northern provinces. The death of Jenny M‘Crea sent out hundreds of volunteers.

The Indians, also, now began to desert the camp of the British in great numbers; and Arnold, on his way to the relief of Fort Schuyler, having spread everywhere exaggerated accounts of his numbers, St. Leger fled from his newly-acquired possession, leaving his tents standing and his stores and baggage behind him.

The American army now amounted to upwards of 5,000, and Gates left his camp on the Islands, and took up his position on Behmus Heights at Stillwater, on the west bank of the Hudson, close to the river. With great labour and difficulty Burgoyne had brought down from the depôt on Lake St. George thirty days’ provisions for his troops, and now, therefore, he crossed the Hudson by a bridge of boats, and encamped on the 14th of September at Saratoga. On the 19th, skirmishing began between the advanced parties; reinforcements were sent in by the two armies as the fortunes of the combat seemed to vary, till at length the battle became general. The fighting continued furiously and without intermission, till night at length made it impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Victory had changed sides many times during the fight; but the British retired, and left the Americans masters of the field. Both claimed the victory, but the loss of the British was the greater.

Two days before the battle of Stillwater, a considerable advantage had also been gained by a party of Lincoln’s militia, who surprised the posts at the outlet of Lake George, took a considerable number of prisoners and armed vessels; after which, in concert with another party, they advanced to Ticonderoga. Burgoyne’s position thus became perilous and difficult in the extreme. His provisions and forage were diminishing; his allies were daily deserting; and if he retreated, the Americans, flushed with what was vaunted as a great victory, were in his rear. In the midst of this anxiety one hope remained, which was communicated by a letter in cypher, that troops would be sent by Clinton from New York to make a diversion on the Hudson, and thus the alarming position of Burgoyne be relieved. The present time must, however, be cared for. The two camps were within a short distance of each other, and skirmishes were of daily occurrence; and at length, on October 7th, a battle took place—the famous battle of Saratoga. Morgan and his riflemen distinguished themselves early in the combat. “Gates,” says Hildreth, “did not appear on the field; but Arnold, though without any regular command, took, as usual, a leading part. He seemed under the impulse of some extraordinary excitement, riding at full speed, issuing orders and cheering on the men.” The battle was fought with the utmost bravery on both sides, until night again put an end to the fighting. The Americans slept on their arms, intending to renew the combat with the morning; their advantages so far were decisive. Of the British, 400 men were killed, wounded, or taken prisoners; tents, ammunition and artillery, fell into the hands of the Americans. Next morning the British commander was found to have quietly retired during the night, and to be drawn up in order of battle on some high ground near.

Gates was too wary to venture another battle with the enemy posted to so much advantage, and made preparations, therefore, for enclosing him as he lay, which Burgoyne perceiving, prepared for retreat. In the meantime skirmishing went on; General Lincoln was severely wounded on the American side, and General Fraser, a British officer of high rank, was killed, and buried on the hill which bears his name. The Baroness de Reidesel, who, with her young children, followed the camp, and whose quarters were turned into a sort of hospital for the wounded officers, has left a pathetic account of the horrors of that day, and the retreat which followed.[[19]]

Burgoyne fell back upon Saratoga, abandoning his sick and wounded amid drenching rain; the bridges were broken down, the rivers were swollen, and though the distance was but six miles, this retreat consumed the whole day. His situation was now lamentable in the extreme. He heard nothing from New York of the expected aid; he was in the midst of a hostile country hemmed in by an enemy whose forces, now amounting to 12,000 men, were daily increasing, while his had melted away to less than one-half of that number, nor could even these be depended upon. His boats laden with provisions were taken, and there remained now but a three days’ supply. In this terrible and unlooked-for emergency, a council of war was called, to which every officer was summoned, and a treaty of capitulation was agreed upon.

Gates demanded unconditional surrender, but Burgoyne would not consent to this. And it being feared that the long-expected diversion from New York should be made, and thus change again the fortunes of the day, Gates did not hesitate long as to terms. On the 27th of October, Burgoyne surrendered his army as prisoners of war, it being agreed that on laying down their arms they should be conducted to Boston, thence to embark for England under condition of not again serving against the United States. The prisoners included in this capitulation amounted to 5,642, the previous losses being upwards of 4,000. There fell also into the hands of the Americans thirty-five brass field-pieces and 5,000 muskets, besides baggage and camp equipage. The colours of the German regiments were preserved by being cut from their staves, rolled up, and stowed away in the baggage of Madame Reidesel.

The British troops thus subjected to humiliation were, however, treated with great delicacy by the Americans; their officers, and Burgoyne in particular, receiving many kind attentions. Burgoyne was entertained with distinguished hospitality by General Schuyler, although his country-house and much of his property had been destroyed by order of the British commander.

As soon as the surrender of Burgoyne was known, the British garrison at Ticonderoga destroyed the works and retired to Canada. Clinton, with Tryon and his Tory forces, on the same intelligence, dismantled the forts on the Hudson, and having burnt every house within their reach, and done all the damage in their power, returned to New York. Thus ended an enterprise from which the British had hoped and the Americans feared so much, and its results were in the highest degree advantageous to the cause of the republicans. The enemy was not only weakened and humiliated, a large and welcome supply of arms and stores obtained, but the Americans rose greatly in the estimation of foreign nations, who watched the contest with anxious and eager attention.

The joy of the Americans, especially those of the Northern States, was almost beyond bounds, and, as might be expected, the military reputation of Gates stood very high—nay, even for the time, outshone that of Washington, whose loss of Philadelphia, of which we have yet to speak, was placed unfavourably beside the surrender of a whole British army. The good General Schuyler, who had been superseded by the prosperous Gates, was acquitted with the highest honour after strict investigation of his military conduct. He resigned his commission in the army, but still continued to serve his country no less zealously as a member of congress.

We must now return to Washington at Philadelphia, whom we left in anxious uncertainty as to the intentions of the British general, whether he would march upon Philadelphia according to former plans, or seize upon the passes of the Hudson, and carrying up his large forces to the north, co-operate with Burgoyne in that quarter. In order, however, to be prepared for either of these movements, a large camp was formed under General Arnold on the western bank of the Delaware; and towards the end of May, Washington, with about 8,000 men, moved to Middlebrook, ten miles from Princetown, where he might have a better opportunity of watching and interrupting the movements of the enemy.

Howe, whose real intention was to bring on a general engagement with Washington, in which case he calculated on certain victory, marched out from New Brunswick, where he had concentrated his army, after leaving his winter-quarters at New York. Finding, however, the position of Washington too strong, he fell back to Amboy, threw a bridge across to Staten Island, and sent over his heavy baggage and some of his troops. Washington, deceived by this manœuvre, ordered his troops out in pursuit, and himself moved to Quibbleton. This was what Howe had in view, and now suddenly turning round, he attempted to gain the strong ground which the American commander had left; but Washington, perceiving the drift of the enemy, made a hasty retreat to his old position, not, however, without some loss both of men and artillery. Finding his plans unsuccessful, Howe finally on the 30th of June withdrew with all his troops to Staten Island, leaving Washington in undisturbed possession of New Jersey.

Again Washington knew not the intentions of the British either by land or water. A fleet of transports, he knew, was fitting out in New York harbour, but its destination was unknown. At length, on the 23rd of July, the fleet, under command of Admiral Howe, set sail northward with troops to the amount of 18,000 on board, and Washington, suspecting that its operations would be in that quarter, marched also in the same direction. By the end of July, however, it was heard of as approaching Cape May, and Washington then returned to the Delaware. After still continued uncertainty as to its object, the fleet at length sailed up the Chesapeake, and on the 25th of August the troops landed near the head of Elk River in Maryland, fifty miles south-west of Philadelphia. While the unascertained intentions of the British left Washington unemployed, other minor objects engaged his attention. An expedition was made against the loyalists of Staten Island, who were a great annoyance to the inhabitants of New Jersey, against whom they made armed incursions, plundering their dwellings and driving off their cattle. The non-combatant Quakers also of Pennsylvania and New Jersey became a cause of anxiety, and were subjected to punishment. It happened that the papers and advices of the two several yearly meetings of this body came in possession of the leaders of the expedition against Staten Island. These being examined by the Council of Philadelphia, were found to contain matter of a treasonable character, and eleven wealthy and leading Quakers of Philadelphia, among whom was the father of the president of the council, were arrested. So great indeed was the suspicion excited by the Quaker loyalty, that it was deemed necessary not only to send these eleven but various other leading men, John Penn, the late governor, and Benjamin Chud, the late chief justice, being of the number, prisoners to Fredricksburg in Virginia. So alarming indeed was this detected treason considered to be, that congress recommended every state to arrest all persons, Quakers or others, who had in any way evinced a disposition inimical to the cause of America, also to seize the papers of the Quaker yearly meetings, and transmit the political portion of their contents to congress.

Howe, on landing in Maryland, published as usual his offer of pardon to all who would submit at once to the British sway, and security to such as remained peaceably at home; after which he commenced his march towards Philadelphia. Washington awaited his approach at Wilmington, under circumstances, as the historian[[20]] remarks, much less favourable than those which enabled the northern army so successfully to repel the contemporaneous advance of Burgoyne. There was no New England here to pour in her militia; no bold forces of New Hampshire and the young Vermont to come down like a mountain torrent; Pennsylvania was impelled by no general zeal either of patriotism or liberty; the greater part of the Quakers, a wealthy and influential body, were, if not strongly tinged by British loyalty, at all events neutral. The militia of Pennsylvania, even at this moment, when the enemy was advancing on the capital, amounted barely to 3,000. Washington’s force was greatly inferior to that of the enemy, not much exceeding 11,000 men. The militia of Maryland and Virginia it is true, had been called out to his aid, but as yet had not arrived. Nevertheless, he now resolved upon a battle, and after considerable manœuvring and skirmishing, on Sept. 10th he crossed the Brandywine River, a shallow stream, on the opposite side of which the enemy was encamped, and awaited the event of the next day.

Early on the morning of the 11th, the British force crossed the Brandywine in two columns. The Hessians, under General Kniphausen, having commenced a spirited attack, the intention being to deceive the Americans by the idea that no other attack was intended, whilst Lord Cornwallis, with a still larger force, having made a circuitous march, crossed the Brandywine at another point, with the design of falling on the American rear. Aware of this movement only too late, and confused by contradictory statements, General Sullivan, who had been despatched by Washington to interrupt it, was soon driven back and the fortunes of the day terminated wholly in favour of the British. The Americans retreated during the night, and the next day reached Philadelphia, their loss in the battle being above 1,000 in killed, wounded and prisoners, while the loss of the British was not above half that number. Among the officers who suffered and distinguished themselves on the American side were three foreigners—La Fayette who was wounded in the leg while attempting to rally the retreating troops; the Baron St. Ovary was taken prisoner; and Count Pulaski, a Pole, who had entered the army as a volunteer, displayed so much courage and conduct that he was rewarded by congress a few days afterwards with the rank of brigadier-general and command of the horse.

The day after the battle, a party of the enemy entered Wilmington and took prisoner the governor of Delaware, and seized beside a considerable amount of property, both public and private.

After a few days’ rest, Washington resolved to hazard another battle, and accordingly, on the 16th, re-crossed the Schuylkill, and marched against the British at Goshen, twenty miles from Philadelphia; but violent rain coming on after the action had commenced and the powder in the defective cartridge-boxes of the Americans becoming wet and unfit for use, he was obliged to recall his men and retire. In another instance also, were they unfortunate on the same day. Washington had left Colonel Wayne, with a detachment of 1,500 men, concealed in a wood to annoy the rear of the British, tidings of whom being carried to the British commander by some of the numerous disaffected in the neighbourhood, they were surprised by a strong detachment sent out for that purpose, and compelled to fly with the loss of 300 men; the British lost but seven.

On the 22nd, Howe crossed the Schuylkill, lower down than Washington had done, and thus, to the infinite annoyance of the American commander, placed himself between him and Philadelphia. Nothing, says Hildreth, could now save the city but a battle and victory. Washington’s troops, inferior in number, had been fatigued and harassed by their recent marches. They were sadly deficient in shoes and clothing; their arms were bad; while the irregular supplies consequent on recent changes in the commissary department, and the increasing financial embarrassments of congress, had sometimes even deprived them of food. Under these circumstances it seemed almost too hazardous to risk a battle. The necessity of abandoning Philadelphia had already been foreseen; the hospitals, magazines and public stores had been removed; congress had adjourned to Lancaster, having first invested Washington with the same unlimited powers which had been given to him on a former occasion. Washington entrusted to the young Hamilton, one of his aides-de-camp, the important office of obtaining a supply of shoes, blankets, and clothing for his army from Philadelphia, before the city passed into the hands of the enemy, which was accordingly done.

On the 25th of September, Howe entered Philadelphia, where he was received with a warm welcome by many; Duche, the late chaplain of congress, writing to Washington and advising him “to give up the ungodly cause in which he was engaged.” Four regiments were quartered in the city, and the main army encamped at Germantown, ten miles distant.

Washington in the meantime passed down the Schuylkill, and encamped with his army at Shippack Creek, eleven miles from Germantown, where he was at length joined by the Maryland militia, though diminished to half its promised amount by desertion. Having learnt that a part of the British army had been sent to the Delaware, Washington resolved on attacking the remainder at Germantown, and accordingly, on the evening of the 3rd of October, set out for that purpose, and succeeded in surprising the British early the next morning. For some time everything went well for the Americans, when a heavy fog coming on, and the British availing themselves of the cover of a stone house, the fortune of the day turned. The darkness was such that friend could not be distinguished from foe; the Americans fell into confusion; the ammunition of some corps was expended, and others, seized with a panic, fled. That which had promised to be a victory was changed into defeat. The American loss was about 1,000, 400 of whom were taken prisoners; among the killed was General Nash, of North Carolina. The British lost about half that number.

Washington retired about twenty miles inland, where he received reinforcements from the north with the welcome news of Burgoyne’s surrender, and additional militia from Maryland and Virginia, after which he returned to his old quarters at Shippack Creek. Howe also removed from Germantown to Philadelphia. Instead of pursuing Washington, shortness of provisions rendered it necessary for Howe to open the navigation of the Delaware, the command of which was held by Forts Mifflin and Mercer, still in the hands of the Americans, and which prevented any communication between the British army and their fleet then lying in Delaware Bay. This measure indeed was absolutely necessary, as but little subsistence could be obtained from the adjacent country, for although considerable defection prevailed throughout Pennsylvania, still the presence of the American army formed a great check; and the late edict of congress, which Washington was there to enforce, and which rendered liable to the punishment of death any person daring to afford supplies to the British, rendered help from the country impossible. “The British commander,” said Dr. Franklin, wittily, “now discovered that instead of taking Philadelphia, Philadelphia had taken him.”

Forts Mifflin and Mercer were therefore attacked on the 22nd of October. Fort Mercer, which was garrisoned by somewhat less than 500 men, under the quaker commander Nathaniel Greene, was assailed by General Count Donop, at the head of 2,000 Hessian grenadiers, who, after having succeeded in taking the outworks were repulsed with great loss, Donop himself being mortally wounded. The attack on Fort Mifflin, which was made by shipping, was at first equally unsuccessful, two of the enemy’s ships being destroyed in the attempt. Every effort was now made to strengthen the defences of both forts, but in proportion as the efforts on the one hand increased, so did those on the other; and finally, after the utmost bravery had been displayed, Fort Mifflin, which was almost battered to pieces by the fire of the enemy, was abandoned in the night by its garrison who withdrew to Fort Mercer, which was also evacuated on the 16th of November, before the accumulated force of the British. With the loss of those forts, the American shipping was reduced to great danger. Some few, under the cover of night, succeeded in ascending the river above Philadelphia; and seventeen were burnt by their crews that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy. The navigation of the Delaware was now opened and the British commander could freely communicate with the fleet.

Soon after these events, Washington, wishing to confine the enemy within as close quarters as possible, established his winter-quarters at Valley Forge, a high and strong position on the south side of the Schuylkill, and about twenty miles from Philadelphia. Contrary to the wishes of some of his more ardent officers, Washington refused to attack Philadelphia, nor would he be drawn out to battle by any of the repeated attempts which Howe made for that purpose. A season of sorrow and of hard trial was at hand for Washington. As we have said, the brilliant success of Gates in the north had eclipsed the reputation of the commander-in-chief, and a plot was formed at this time to supplant him by his more successful rival. But patience as well as achievement is the virtue of heroes; and Washington, calm in the midst of enemies, abated not one jot of patriotic endeavour, nor allowed himself to be turned either by friend or foe from the path which, though yet dark, he knew to be that of duty; and ere long events justified him before the world.

A gloomy winter was at hand. We will give Hildreth’s picture of the state of the camp at Valley Forge. “Such was the destitution of shoes, that all the late marches had been tracked in blood, an evil which Washington had endeavoured to mitigate by offering a premium for the best pattern of a shoe made of untanned hides. For want of blankets, many of the men were obliged to sit up all night before the camp fires. More than a quarter of the troops were reported unfit for duty, because they were ‘barefoot and otherwise naked.’ Even provisions failed; and on more than one occasion there was famine in the camp.[[21]] Diseases ensued as a matter of course; the temporary buildings used as hospitals were crowded and unfit for the purpose. Great numbers died from hospital fever alone. There was no change of linen; nor were even medicines to be obtained. The hospitals, it is said, resembled rather receptacles for the dying than places of refuge for the sick.”

Such was the American camp at Valley Forge.

Other national events besides those of war took place in the past year, to which we must now for a moment revert, and which we will give in the condensed form of Marcius Willson.

“After the colonies had thrown off their allegiance to the British crown, and had established separate governments in the states, there arose the further necessity for some common bond of union which should better enable them to act in concert as one nation. In the summer of 1775, Benjamin Franklin had proposed to the American congress articles of confederation and union among the colonies; but the majority in congress not being prepared for so decisive a step, the subject was for the time dropped, but was resumed again shortly before the declaration of independence in the following year.

“On the 11th of June, congress appointed a committee to prepare a plan of confederation. And the plan, reported by the committee in the following July, was, after various changes, finally adopted by congress on the 15th of November, 1777. Various causes, the principal of which was a difference of opinion respecting the disposition of the vacant western lands, prevented the immediate ratification of these articles by all the states; but at length those states which claimed the western lands having ceded them to the Union for the common benefit of the whole, the articles of confederation were ratified by Maryland, the last remaining state, on the 1st of March, 1781, at which time they became the constitution of the country.

“The confederation, however, amounted to little more than a mere league of friendship between the states; for although it invested congress with many of the powers of sovereignty, it was defective as a permanent government, owing to the want of means to enforce its decrees. While the states were bound together by a sense of common danger, the evils of the plan were little noticed; but after the close of the war they became so prominent as to make a revision of the system necessary.”

CHAPTER VII.
REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued), 1778.

Let us now see the effect of the war so far, both in the mother-country and America. The surrender of Burgoyne’s army caused a great sensation in England, and efforts were immediately made in several of the large Scotch and English towns to send out troops to supply the loss; in London also, where the progress of the war had raised an anti-American spirit, £20,000 was raised by subscription for that purpose. On the other hand, subscriptions were also raised to relieve the American prisoners, who, from the cupidity and heartlessness of those in whose hands they were placed, were suffering from the want of the very necessaries of life.

When parliament met in January of this year, the American war was the first and most important topic of discussion, and Burke and the Duke of Richmond, Lord North, and the whole of the Rockingham party, entered more or less into the advocacy of the colonies. As to the war itself, the loss of life it had occasioned, the enormous expenses which it had entailed, and the hopelessness of its results, formed a strong argument in the mouths of all reasonable men. Still the war-party was strong, and Burgoyne could neither obtain an audience from the king nor get a hearing in parliament. To increase the inveteracy of feeling also, congress appeared ready to evade the terms of the convention of Saratoga. On some plea of suspicion regarding the intentions of the British officers who objected to the troops embarking at Boston, and had ordered the transports for their conveyance to Rhode Island instead, they were detained in the country as prisoners of war.

Nevertheless, plans of conciliation were proposed, for which purpose two bills were introduced into the house; the one renouncing all intention of levying taxes in America—conceding, in effect, the whole subject of dispute; the other authorising the appointment of three commissioners, who in conjunction with the naval and military commanders, should be empowered to treat for the re-establishment of the royal authority. “Great Britain,” in fact, as the American historian justly says, “had reason to be weary of a war which had cost her already more than 20,000 men and five millions sterling in expenditure. Five hundred and fifty British vessels, besides those which had been recaptured, had been taken by the American cruisers. These cruisers so infested even the British seas, that convoys had become necessary from one British port to another. To this must be added the loss of the American trade, a large mass of American debts held in suspense by the war, the exile of the American loyalists, and the confiscation of their property. The British West Indies suffered for want of their accustomed supplies of provisions and timber from the North American colonies; and the British merchant complained that the slave-trade was reduced by the war to one-fifth of its former amount. And to all these was now added the fear of French intervention and French war.”

An address also was moved to his majesty, which spoke freely the sentiments of this party, expressing “strong indignation at the conduct of his ministers, who had brought about the present unhappy state of his dominions, who had abused his confidence, and by their unfortunate counsels dismembered his empire, disgraced his arms, and weakened his naval power; whilst, by delaying to reconcile the difference which they had excited amongst his people, they had taken no means of counteracting a fatal alliance with the ancient rival of Great Britain.”

It was in the great debate which followed on this plain-speaking address that Earl Chatham, when protesting vehemently against any measures which might tend to the dismemberment of the empire, was seized with that fainting-fit in the midst of the Lords which was the prelude of his death eleven days afterwards.

In vain was the eloquence of the Duke of Richmond and other members of the opposition—the motion for the address was lost; nevertheless, so earnest was the feeling on the subject, that a noble protest, signed by twenty peers, was entered; “because,” said they, “we think that the rejection of the address at this time may appear to indicate in this house a desire of continuing that plan of ignorance, concealment, deceit and delusion, by which the sovereign and his people have already been brought into so many and so great calamities; and because we hold it absolutely necessary that both sovereign and people should be undeceived, and that they should distinctly and authentically be made acquainted with the state of their affairs, which is faithfully represented in this proposed address.”

The Americans had still greater reason even than the British to deplore the war, from which their sufferings were so great in every way. The Newfoundland fisheries and the trade to the West Indies, both so vitally important to the New England colonies, were at an end. Nine hundred vessels had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The coasting trade had been destroyed, and Boston and the other New England seaports, cut off from their usual supplies, experienced great scarcity of food, enhanced by internal embargoes which now began to be laid on by the different states. Add to which, great public debts rapidly accumulating, and a constantly depreciating currency. The war had been carried on at great expense; the frequent draughts of militia, besides the interruption to agriculture, had proved a most costly and wasteful expedient. Besides all this, there had been great want of system and accountability in every department; and peculation, a customary incident of all wars, had not failed to improve so convenient an opportunity. Already the liabilities contracted by congress amounted to upwards of eight millions sterling; nor indeed was this the whole amount; the private debt of Massachusetts alone amounted to about one million, besides her share of the general liabilities. The loss of life too, had been enormous; vast quantities had died of sickness, of suffering from insufficiency of food and needful comforts and clothing. A sadder or more disastrous war could hardly have been conceived.

Nevertheless, spite of all these unlooked-for calamities and this unimagined expenditure, the war-spirit at the commencement of 1778 was far more extensively spread than had ever before been the case. The very calamities of the war, which had now entered, as it were, into every individual home, had estranged the national heart from the mother-country. Any conciliation, any termination of the struggle, short of entire separation from England, would not be listened to. Besides, when the Americans looked at the position of affairs after a three years’ war, spite of all their losses and sufferings, they saw no cause for despair—as indeed, there was none. The British after all, retained possession but of Long Island and Staten Island, of the insular cities of Newport in Rhode Island and New York, and of Philadelphia on the mainland. As yet they had no interior hold on the country, and though a strong loyalist party existed in various states, and loyalist troops had been raised in Pennsylvania, New York and among the Catholics of Maryland, still the whole number did not amount to above 3,600 men, and their influence tended rather to increase the bitterness of hatred against Britain, who had thus caused civil war in the land, than in reality to weaken or endanger their cause.

While the British parliament was debating the subject of conciliation, the colonies were preparing to carry on the war with renewed vigour. The cabal against Washington had ended in the disgrace of its originators, and that great man now stood higher than he had hitherto done in the regard and confidence of the nation. Advantageous changes were made in all the war departments, in accordance with Washington’s wishes, and to the displacement of his enemies. Nathaniel Greene, a favourite officer of Washington’s, was appointed quarter-master-general; Colonel Jeremiah Wadsworth accepted the office of commissary-general, in the place of Mifflin, one of the cabal; while General Conway, its head, and a man of weak character, was displaced as army inspector by Baron Steuben, a Prussian officer, who had lately offered his services to congress, and who soon introduced a complete system of exercise and tactics into the American army. By the new organisation the colonial force would have amounted to 60,000 men, but not being fully carried out, to about only half that number; no troops were demanded from Georgia and South Carolina, in consequence of their great slave population. Two independent corps were also raised; the one under Pulaski, the Pole; the other under Armand, a French officer; a third entirely composed of cavalry, was raised by Henry Lee, of Virginia, already distinguished in the war. The fortifications of the Highlands were vigorously prosecuted under the direction of Kosciusko.

Again large issues of paper money were made, which, causing still further depreciation, led to the greatest perplexity and embarrassment. The reduced pay of the officers, insufficient for their simplest needs, must have compelled many able and long-tried officers to throw up their commissions, had not Washington induced congress to promise half-pay for seven years to all officers who served to the end of the war, and a gratuity to the common soldiers.

About the middle of April, at the very moment when all was in active operation to carry on the war with renewed vigour, the first tidings of the conciliatory bills reached New York, and ex-governor Tryon and the Tory party used their utmost endeavours to diffuse them throughout the colonies. To counteract the influence of these measures, congress ordered them to be immediately published in every newspaper of the States, accompanied by the printed resolutions of their body on the subject. “There was a time,” said Governor Turnbull, “when this step from our acknowledged parent would have been accepted with joy and gratitude, but that time is irrevocably past. No peace can be concluded now with Great Britain on any other terms than the most absolute, perfect independence. Nevertheless,” concluded he, “the union by a lasting and honourable peace is the ardent wish of every American. The British nation will then find us as affectionate and valuable friends as we now are determined and fatal enemies, and will derive from that friendship more solid and real advantage than the most sanguine can expect from conquest.”

On the 22nd of April, congress officially declared, that any man or body of men, who should presume to make any separate or partial agreement with the commission under the crown of Great Britain, should be considered as enemies of the United States; that the United States would enter into no treaty with Great Britain until her fleets and armies were withdrawn, or the independence of America acknowledged.

Scarcely were these resolutions published, than, as if to give them value with the public, Simon Deane arrived at Yorktown, where congress was then sitting, in a royal frigate from Paris bringing with him for ratification two treaties of alliance and commerce between France and the United States; the last of which was signed the 30th of January, and the former on the 6th of February. On the 4th of May, they were ratified by congress, and the utmost joy and exultation prevailed throughout the United States. There was an end now to the hatred of France in America; her independence was acknowledged by that nation, and congress extolled “the extraordinary equity, generosity and unparalleled honour of the French monarch.”

By the treaty of alliance it was stipulated that in case of war occurring between France and England, the two parties should aid each other with counsel and with arms, and that neither should conclude truce nor peace with Great Britain without consent of the other. This treaty being considered equivalent to a declaration of war between France and Great Britain, the English ambassador was recalled from Paris, and active preparations for war were made by both nations.

On May 8th, Sir William Howe having at his own request resigned the command of the American army, Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Philadelphia to take his place, and early in June the three commissioners appointed under Lord North’s Conciliatory Bill—the Earl of Carlisle, William Eden, brother of the late governor of Maryland, afterwards Lord Auckland, and Governor Johnson—arrived at the same city a few days before the British troops evacuated. The day after their arrival, a passport being refused by Washington to Dr. Ferguson, the secretary of the commission, a letter was despatched by them, together with the late acts of parliament and other papers, directed to congress. A suspension of hostilities was proposed, and as the basis of a final adjustment of the contest, an extension of the privileges of trade hitherto allowed to the colonies was promised; no military force was to be kept up in any colony without the consent of its assembly; the continental bills of credit were to be taken up and ultimately discharged; the colonies were to be represented in parliament, and the British government in the colonial assemblies;—almost everything was to be conceded excepting the acknowledgment of independence.

These concessions came too late. Two years before they would have been accepted with gratitude. They were now rejected; it could not have been otherwise. Congress gave a very summary reply in the words of the resolution already stated, and firmly refused to treat in any way with Great Britain, unless she withdrew her troops or acknowledged the independence of the States. The commissioners returned a long and argumentative reply, to which congress made no answer.

In the meantime a French fleet, under the command of Count D’Estaing, being despatched to America with the design of blockading the British fleet in the Delaware, and Philadelphia being no longer safe quarters for the British army, active preparations were made for its evacuation. On the 18th of June, accordingly, Sir Henry Clinton marched out of Philadelphia with about 12,000 men, while the baggage and a great amount of stores and a considerable number of non-combatants were sent to New York by water, whither also the army was bound by land. Washington, already aware of this intended evacuation, broke up his camp at Valley Forge, and while with his main army, the number of which considerably exceeded that of the British, he cautiously followed the enemy, he despatched General Maxwell with a brigade to co-operate with the New Jersey militia in harassing them, and throwing every possible impediment in their way, so that time might be given him to bring up his full force and to profit by any opportunity which offered. The wish of the commander-in-chief was to bring on a general engagement, but in this wish he was overruled by a council of officers.

The progress of the British was very slow, and many were the difficulties which they encountered; the weather was rainy and the heat intense, and they were encumbered with so enormous a quantity of baggage, that their line of march through the narrow roads of the country occupied twelve miles. The cause of this quantity of baggage, as far as provisions were concerned, was a matter of prudence with General Clinton, who knew that no subsistence was to be obtained for his troops in the hostile country through which they had to march. On the 25th of June the two armies were so near each other, that Washington despatched General Lee, now but recently exchanged, with two brigades to press upon Clinton’s left, and prevent him from occupying the strong position of the Nevisink Hills, near Middletown, which he was then approaching. On the 28th, Clinton encamped at Monmouth, now Freehold, twelve miles from Middletown, and Lee, who was six miles in advance of Washington, received orders from his commander to attack the enemy, himself promising to bring up the main army to support it. Washington, accordingly advancing for this purpose, was astonished to meet Lee retreating; according to his own account, having merely ordered his men to retreat for the purpose of gaining a more favourable position. Washington, however, incensed at perceiving what appeared to him flight rather than any other movement, severely reprimanded the general, and ordered the line of battle to be immediately formed. This was done; the battle was renewed till the darkness of night closed the combat. The Americans lay on their arms, fully determined to attack the British in the morning; but availing themselves of the cover of night, the British retired with profound silence to the high grounds of Nevisink, which it had been Washington’s object to prevent them gaining, and where they were now safe from attack. The number of killed and wounded on both sides has been very differently stated; but in both armies many died without a single wound, from fatigue and the excessive heat of the weather, which on that day was unusually extreme; fifty-nine English soldiers are said to have died from this cause. Several officers of great ability were killed also on both sides.

As regarded General Lee, the day after the battle he wrote a very angry letter to Washington, on the subject of the reprimand which he had received, and again, in answer to Washington’s reply, wrote a second of a similar character. The consequence was the arrest of Lee, and his trial by court-martial, on the charges of disobedience to orders, misbehaviour before the enemy, and disrespect to the commander-in-chief. Of a portion of these charges he was found guilty, and suspended from command for twelve months. He, however, never re-entered the American army, and died at Philadelphia shortly before the conclusion of the war.

Immediately after the battle of Freehold, Clinton proceeded from his position on Nevisink Hills to Sandy Hook, where, fortunately for him, the fleet of Lord Howe, which had been detained in the Delaware by contrary winds, had arrived only the evening before. By these means he was enabled to reach New York in safety, totally unconscious of a new danger from which he was so opportunely removed.

A new enemy was now approaching the scene of action. Two days after the British fleet had sailed, news arrived that Count D’Estaing was off the Delaware, with a French fleet of twelve ships of the line and four frigates, with 11,000 French troops on board. Had he been only eight-and-forty hours earlier he might have met the British transports, heavily laden as they were, totally unconscious of this new danger, and convoyed only by two ships of the line, and their destruction would have been inevitable; while the English army, unable to proceed to New York, would have been enclosed by the Americans on the one hand, and on the other, cut off from supplies by the French fleet, and a second surrender must have been the consequence. Two days made all the difference.

The arrival of the French fleet was, however, a cause of great exultation to the Americans. With it also came out M. Gerard, late secretary to the king’s council, as ambassador to the United States, and soon after Benjamin Franklin, still in France, was appointed to the same office in that country.

D’Estaing, having failed to surprise the British fleet in the Delaware, proceeded without loss of time to Sandy Hook, and came to anchor off New York Harbour, on July 11th. A joint attack on the British by land and sea was now decided upon, and for this purpose Washington crossed the Hudson with his army, and encamped at White Plains. The utmost alarm prevailed among the British and the loyalists of New York. The British fleet was not in the best condition for this formidable encounter. Most of the ships of the line, having been long on service, were out of condition and badly manned; they had, however, the advantage of position, being within the harbour which is formed by Sandy Hook, and the entrance to which is covered by a bar. The French fleet was in excellent condition, and among its ships of the line were several of great force and weight of gun. These heavy ships were the salvation of the British fleet, and the ruin of the French enterprise. The New York pilots would not venture to take them across the bar, and after having lain outside the harbour for about eleven days, the British fleet locked up within it and looking out anxiously every hour for the arrival of an expected squadron from England, under Admiral Byron, D’Estaing was seen to sail away with a favourable wind, and in a few hours was out of sight. The expected British reinforcements arrived very shortly after D’Estaing was gone.

This projected attack of the British fleet being necessarily abandoned, Washington recommended D’Estaing to proceed against Newport in Rhode Island, which was still held by the British, under General Pigot, with 6,000 men. For the purpose of co-operation in this expedition, which Washington had anticipated, General Sullivan had been already sent with a detachment to Providence, where he was joined by 5,000 militia of Massachusetts and Connecticut, and shortly after by two brigades under Generals Greene and La Fayette. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed everywhere, and perfect success was calculated upon. The plan of the expedition was simple. D’Estaing was to enter the harbour of Newport, while the army advanced from the other side, and thus place the British once more between two fires.

The French fleet already occupied Narrangansett Bay, and was in communication with the American army; nay, even having advanced into Newport harbour, had compelled the British to burn or sink six of their frigates, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.

On the 10th of August, the American army, 10,000 strong, landed on the north end of Rhode Island proper, on which Newport stands, expecting to be joined by 4,000 French troops from the fleet, as had been arranged with D’Estaing, when all unexpectedly the British fleet under Lord Howe appeared in sight. This fleet, as soon as released from its blockade in New York harbour and strengthened by its reinforcements, set sail for the relief of Newport, where it arrived at this critical moment. No sooner was this perceived by the French admiral, who knew that his force was superior to that of the British, than he sailed out to give them battle, carrying the troops with him. Astonished and disappointed by this unexpected movement, the American army continued their march towards Newport and encamped within two miles of the enemy’s works. Meanwhile, the two admirals striving each to secure the weather-gage, two days were spent in this contest of seamanship, when a violent storm arose and separated the two fleets at the very moment when about to engage. For two days more the tempest raged fearfully, and scattered and damaged the ships greatly. Five days later the French admiral reappeared off Newport with two of his ships, one of which was his own, dismasted, and others seriously injured. The British squadron had also suffered equally. On the 22nd of August, two days later, D’Estaing, contrary to the earnest entreaties of the American generals, insisted on giving up the attempt against Newport, and sailed away to Boston to refit.

The American army in Rhode Island and the people of the northern colonies in general were indignant at this desertion, and the old hatred of the French was in such danger of reviving, and indeed did express itself by a riot in Boston, that it required all Washington’s influence to allay it; while congress, in order to pacify D’Estaing, who was becoming angry on his part, passed a resolution approving of his conduct. In the meantime, General Sullivan, now placed in the most difficult circumstances in Rhode Island, and deserted by great numbers of his own troops, commenced a retreat. On the 29th of August, having already sent off his artillery and baggage, he put his troops in motion, and though vigorously pursued and attacked on every possible quarter by the British forces, he had yet taken all his measures so well, that he arrived without any considerable loss at his old post on the north of the island, and the next day passed his army over to the mainland in safety. Nor was his fortunate retreat made too soon, as Sir Henry Clinton arrived from New York with a strong force immediately afterwards.

The same day that Sullivan abandoned Rhode Island, Lord Howe entered the Bay of Boston in pursuit of D’Estaing, whom he however found so securely defended by the batteries and other measures of defence taken both by the Americans and the French, that any attack upon him was impossible.

Late in the autumn, the English fleet, which had been sent out under Admiral Byron to counteract D’Estaing, arrived at New York, having encountered and been detained by severe tempests. Byron sailed to Boston, as Howe had done before, to look after and attack the French admiral; but again a violent storm arose, the fleet was dispersed, and one of the English ships was wrecked on Cape Cod; after which, D’Estaing, having now refitted, sailed for the West Indies, the principal seat of war between France and England, and whither had sailed also 5,000 British troops from New York, under Commodore Hotham, escorted by a strong squadron.

The three commissioners who had come over for the purpose of conciliation having, as we said, produced no effect on congress, afterwards attempted to corrupt the minds of private individuals, or at least this charge was proved upon Governor Johnstone. Under this suspicion congress ordered all the letters written by that gentleman to his American friends—among whom were General Reed, Francis Dana and Robert Morris,—to be laid before them. These letters, as regarded General Reed, proved that a Mrs. Ferguson, a lady of Philadelphia, had been employed to offer him £10,000 and any office which he might desire in the colonies, if he would aid in bringing about the proposed reconciliation. His reply was worthy of an American patriot: “I am not worth purchasing,” said he; “but such as I am, the king of England is too poor to buy me.”[[22]] These discoveries called forth a declaration from congress that Johnstone was guilty of an attempt at bribery, and such being the case, it was incompatible with the honour of that body to hold any intercourse with him. This led to a violent reply from Johnstone, accompanied by a document from his fellow-commissioners, by no means calculated to decrease the difference between the two parties. Congress vouchsafed no reply, making use only of the public press to utter their sentiments.

Besides the attempt at conciliation, the commissioners endeavoured to use their influence, with equally little success, in obtaining the discharge of Burgoyne’s troops, who were still detained in the country, contrary to capitulation. Whatever the reasoning of congress might be on this subject, nothing but the quibbles of lawyers could be produced in support of it; and the unfortunate troops, contrary to all honour, after having suffered greatly in the north, were marched off to Charlottesville in Virginia, where they could be more easily guarded and more cheaply fed. There they were quartered in log-huts, gardens were allotted to them, and their encampment formed a village. Some of the officers were afterwards exchanged, but the greater number remained prisoners to the end of the war.[[23]]

The last act of the commissioners was the publication of a violent manifesto, addressed not only to congress and the assemblies, but to the people at large, intended to separate them from their rulers, by charging upon them all the miseries and the consequences of the war, declaring that the contest changed its nature when America estranged herself from the mother-country and mortgaged herself and her resources to the enemies of Great Britain; the clergy were reminded that the French were papists, and the lovers of peace were appealed to against ambitious men who were subjecting their country to unnecessary warfare. Forty days were allowed for submission, after which, if the offer were rejected, the country was threatened with desolation as the future object of the war. The circulation of this manifesto under flags of truce was prohibited by congress, but it was published in all the newspapers with a counter-manifesto and with comments from the pens of some of their most able men.

As the commissioners had disparaged France in this document, the Marquis La Fayette, as the representative of his country, sent a challenge to the Earl of Carlisle, which that nobleman declined to accept, on the plea that he was responsible only to his sovereign for his public acts. Shortly after this time the Marquis La Fayette returned to France, in which country he believed that he could serve the rising interest of America more effectually than in her armies.

At the end of the forty days, having flung their firebrand into the country, the commissioners departed, much to the relief of congress, but not before their threatened warfare of desolation had commenced its work.

Sir Henry Clinton, finding all quiet at Newport, returned to New York, whence he despatched Major-General Grey on an expedition against the southern shores of Massachusetts and the adjacent islands. In Buzzard’s Bay, a great resort of American privateers, he destroyed about 100 vessels with all the stores in the neighbourhood, burnt the towns of New Bedford and Fairhaven, and carried off from the inhabitants of the fertile island of Martha’s Vineyard a vast quantity of sheep and oxen. But this was little in comparison with his next achievements. He surprised, in the dead of the night, a sleeping American regiment of light horse, near Tappan, killed a number of them in cold blood, wounded many others and took the rest prisoners. The town of Egg-harbour in New Jersey was burnt, and all the houses and mills and property belonging to the Whig party in that neighbourhood destroyed; while a detachment under one Captain Ferguson, guided by deserters, surprised and cut to pieces the greater portion of Pulaski’s legion. Such was the spirit of ferocity which existed at this moment in the British soldiery; but horrible as were these instances of merciless warfare, they were trivial in comparison with what was going forward in remoter regions, where the Indian savage became the bloody tool of the American loyalist. All our readers know the tragedy of Wyoming. It was enacted at this time. We have already mentioned the settlement of this beautiful valley of the Susquehannah by a number of the quiet people of Connecticut. It had greatly flourished and become very populous, although from the first it had been a cause of dispute between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, both of which states claimed it as belonging to their territory. A few years before the present time, some Scotch and Dutch settlers from New York had come to the valley, thirty of whom having been lately seized on suspicion of being Tories, were sent to Connecticut for trial. Nothing being proved against them, they were discharged, and immediately, as if in confirmation of the accusation, they enlisted in the partisan corps of Butler and the half-blood Indian Brandt, then stationed in the Mohawk valley, eager for the moment of revenge, which was not far off.

Although Wyoming had been only settled since the last war, it numbered about 4,000 inhabitants, one-third of whom it had sent out to the American army, thus leaving itself undefended. This weak state was well known to the offended party, who induced Butler and Brandt to lead to Wyoming a body of 1,500 men, partly Indians, and partly loyalists disguised as such, for the purpose of extermination. On the first rumour of the probability of such an invasion, a body of men was raised to garrison the valley; but they were hardly organised when, at the commencement of July, Butler and his terrible army appeared and commenced their bloody work by waylaying and murdering some of the inhabitants. There were four forts in the valley; the upper fort, being held by a disaffected party, surrendered at once; the few soldiers hastily mustered marched out to meet the enemy, but being a mere handful, were surrounded, many were killed on the spot, and others who were taken prisoners were put to death with every Indian ingenuity of torture. Such as escaped fled to Fort Wyoming, which was then besieged. Under pretence of a parley, the principal officer was drawn out with a number of his men, when the fort was attacked and the greater part slain. The remnant which remained, on desiring to know what terms might be expected, received for reply the emphatic words, “The hatchet.” At last compelled to surrender, the men were put to the sword, and the women and children shut up in the houses and the barracks, which were consumed in one general conflagration. The last fort offered no resistance, and surrendered on the promise of security to life and property; but the promise was not kept, the unhappy people suffered the fate of the others. Butler, it is said, marched away with his Tories at the surrender of the fort, but could not induce the Indians to follow his example; and frenzied with the rage of blood, they remained behind, burning the houses, ravaging the fields, killing and maiming the very cattle with horrible tortures, murdering the men who resisted, and driving such women and children as escaped with life into the forests and mountains. According to some historians there were loyalists among these Indians, who excelled even them in barbarity.

The fate of Wyoming awoke the liveliest indignation; and an expedition of retaliation was very soon undertaken against the Indians of the Upper Susquehannah; and though the Indians, aware of their approach, fled, yet were their harvests destroyed and their fields laid waste. Another expedition was undertaken against the Canadian settlers, most of whom were loyalists, west of the Alleganies. These incursions served only to call forth reprisals; and in November, the flourishing settlement of Cherry Valley, in New York, was surprised by a party of Indians and loyalist regulars. The fort, which was garrisoned by about 200 soldiers, was not taken; but its colonel, who lodged in the town, was killed, the lieutenant-colonel taken prisoner, and the inhabitants suffered the cruel fate of those of Wyoming.

We have already mentioned that Commodore Hyde Parker had been sent in November with a detachment of 3,500 men, under Colonel Campbell, against Georgia; at the same time instructions had been forwarded to Major-General Prevost, who commanded the troops in East Florida, to make all necessary preparations for the defence of Fort St. Augustine, and to co-operate in the views of the present expedition by entering the province of Georgia from that side, and advancing, if possible, so far as to assist Colonel Campbell in the intended attack on Savannah.

The scene of events is now about to be in great measure removed from the North to the South. While the northern provinces had been so long harassed, and had suffered from the calamities of war, the southern had enjoyed such comparative tranquillity that they had duly cultivated their affluent lands and gathered in their abundant harvests, and had carried on their export trade with most of the European markets without impediment, except from British cruisers in the ocean. There had, it is true, been a continuance of petty hostilities between Georgia and East Florida, which had kept up a rumour of war in the south; and in West Florida the British settlements had quietly submitted to the Americans; but as yet all had been comparative peace.

The shortness of provisions in the north, from which the British suffered, rendered it additionally important for them to gain possession of Georgia, the feeblest of the southern provinces. As regards, indeed, the want of provisions, it was felt by the Americans equally with the British; and it is stated that D’Estaing would have found it impracticable to have victualled his ships at Boston but for the opportune seizing, by the New England cruisers, of so large a number of English provision-ships on their way to New York, that there was not only abundance for the French fleet, but the general price of food was lowered thereby in Boston market. This event, which was a great triumph to the Americans, was a serious cause of increased anxiety and suffering to the British army.

But the possession of Georgia was not only important to the British, as furnishing an abundant supply of its staple commodity, rice, and its other numerous products, but as enabling East Florida to join her forces, and thus to form an aggregate establishment in the south, which might greatly influence the ultimate fortunes of the war; besides which, a door would thus be opened into South Carolina.

The commander of the American forces in the southern department was at this time Major-General Robert Howe, who, however, not having given satisfaction to congress, was about to be superseded by General Lincoln, when, on the 23rd of December, the British fleet arrived at the island of Tybee, near the mouth of the river Savannah. The Americans were wholly unprepared for the removal of the scene of war from the north to the south, and no measures of defence had been taken to secure Savannah. Though Howe was there with the whole regular force of the southern department, consisting of six South Carolina and the one Georgia regiments, the whole force did not amount to 800 men; while the batteries which had been constructed for the defence of the river had been suffered to fall into decay.

The capture of Savannah was very easy. On the 28th, the enemy landed just below the town, Major-General Howe having drawn up his forces about half a mile to the east, his left resting on the river, and his right and rear covered by rice-swamps, across which he believed there was but one road. “Fortune, however,” says the British report of this enterprise, “whose favours no prudent officer will ever deny, threw a negro into the hands of the commander, whose intelligence turned to the happiest account.” This man led a British detachment, by a private road known to himself, to the back of Howe’s force, and the Americans, thus at once attacked in front and rear, were completely routed. The British loss was less than thirty; of the Americans 450, while several commissioned officers were taken prisoners; and Savannah, with its artillery, shipping and stores, fell into the hands of the British. The remains of Howe’s army fled into South Carolina.

This was the greatest acquisition made by the British in the present year. Washington had gone into winter-quarters at Middlebrook. The two hostile armies of the north were now, at the close of 1778, after two years’ struggles and manœuvres, in very nearly the same relative position as at the close of 1776. The British, driven from the mainland, were now again entrenched on New York Island; and Washington, speaking of the present state of affairs, nobly remarked: “The hand of Providence had been so conspicuous in all this, that he who lacked faith must have been worse than an infidel, and he more than wicked who had no gratitude to acknowledge his obligations.”

CHAPTER VIII.
REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued), 1779.

While the war was being carried forward on the eastern borders of the States, and the people suffered grievously from the natural consequences of the prolonged struggle, the spirit of enterprise was no less alive in the remoter provinces, and adventurers were advancing towards that Great West which has ever been so attractive to the American mind. As had been so often the case before, the restlessness of the Western Indians led now to the conquest of their territory. It was reported to congress that the Indians of the Ohio had been stimulated to hostility by Hamilton, the British commandant at Detroit, and in consequence it was determined to send an expedition against that post; but before this was done, one still more important was accomplished by George Rogers Clarke, a young backwoodsman of Kentucky. Clarke was a man of great sagacity; and having come to the conclusion that the best way of putting an end to Indian hostilities was to destroy the sources whence they derived encouragement and support, and having correctly ascertained that these border Indians were not merely the tools of the British, but that great numbers amongst them were well-inclined towards the Americans, he proposed in December, 1779, to the executive council of Virginia, a plan for the reduction of the British posts of Detroit, Vincennes and Kaskaskia, all founded, as we may remember, by the French in the days of their American prosperity. The governor and council approving of Clarke’s plan, afforded him such facilities as he required for its accomplishment. Early the following year he enlisted 200 men for three months, and, accompanied by thirteen emigrant families, descended the Ohio to the Falls, where the emigrants parted company and settled themselves in Corn Island, the little band of warriors thus dropping, as it were, by the way the seeds of civilisation and domestic life. Again Clarke embarked on the river, and advanced to within sixty miles of its mouth, where, hiding his boats, he marched by land to Kaskaskia, which he reached on the evening of July 5th. The march had been difficult, and having long been short of food, they were on the point of starvation, but the town and fort being taken by surprise yielded to the famished men without a struggle. M. Rocheblave, the British commandant, was taken in his bed, and not a drop of blood was shed. The inhabitants were mostly French, and the news of the French alliance with the Americans, and the respect shown by the conqueror to life, property and religion, disposed the inhabitants to be satisfied, if not pleased, with the change. The papers of the governor, among which it was suspected were orders from Hamilton to excite the Indians to hostility, were immediately either destroyed by his wife or concealed among her clothes, for “the conqueror, as a gallant son of Virginia, would not tarnish the fame of his state by an insult to a female;” therefore the papers remained undiscovered.

After a few days’ rest and refreshment in Kaskaskia, Clarke and his men proceeded to Cahokia, a small but important post which possessing a great trade with the Indians, was the depôt of arms and ammunition; this and another neighbouring post also surrendered without bloodshed. Besides these conquests, the people of St. Vincent’s, or Vincennes, on the Wabash, swore allegiance to Virginia, and friendly relations were established with the Spanish commander at St. Louis, on the other side of the Mississippi. A party was also sent by Clarke to build a stockade at the falls of Ohio, which was the first germ of the present city of Louisville.

Returning to Kaskaskia, Clarke convened the hitherto hostile Indian tribes, who filled with dread of this boldest of the “Big Knives,” as they called the Virginians, were easily induced to transfer their allegiance from the British to the Americans. The territory thus acquired, embracing all the country north of the Ohio, was erected by the assembly of Virginia into the county of Illinois.

The army of Washington passed this winter more comfortably than the last. A supply of clothing had been received from France; and provisions were secured by congress having laid an embargo on all exports. In fact, the army was now better fed and supplied than at any former period. Great discouragement and distress, however, prevailed, owing to the depreciation of the bills of credit, which had reduced the pay of the army to a mere trifle, totally insufficient for their needs. The Tory party also caused many troubles and anxieties; and so dangerous an element was this in the state, that even after the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British, when congress had resumed its sittings in that capital, many wealthy and respectable citizens became amenable to the law; and two Quakers, John Roberts and Abraham Carlisle, were found guilty of treason, and spite of every effort being made to save them, were executed. These trials and executions greatly inflamed the hatred of the Tories, and party-spirit became still more bitter.

In the minds of the Americans this inveteracy was increased by the late conduct of the once popular General Arnold, who, in consequence of his wounds, had been appointed to the military command in Philadelphia, and to the astonishment and disgust of his friends, showed a great leaning towards the adverse party, and very soon married a young wife, the daughter of a Tory family.

Towards the close of the past year America obtained, through her commissioners in France, a loan from the French court of 3,000,000 of livres—a very insufficient sum to relieve their present difficulties, and the obtaining of which led to much quarrelling and party-spirit. Congress, occupied with disputes which originated in this loan, “was reduced,” says Hildreth, “to a very low ebb. Many of the abler members left it; frequently there were not more than twenty-five in attendance. Washington passed five weeks at the commencement of the year in Philadelphia, and his letters at that time evince serious alarm at the state of affairs.”

A scheme for the invasion of Canada by the aid of a French fleet was entertained at this time by congress, but discouraged by Washington, who had strong suspicion that if successful it would tend only to the advantage of France. It was resolved therefore, that all offensive operations should be confined to an attack on Detroit, and an expedition against the Six Nations.

The year 1779 commenced by a new issue of paper money, to the amount of ten millions, and additional bills to about the same amount, at various times before the month of June. Under this rapid issue, Hildreth tells us, increased depreciation took place, together with a spirit of speculation and fraud on the one side, and unfounded jealousies and suspicion on the other. Prices rose enormously, and while it was remarked that Tories and speculators grew rapidly rich, honest men and patriots were reduced to poverty.

But spring was now coming on, and it was necessary to organise the army for operation. Exclusive of the few troops in the south, the American army, at the commencement of the campaign of the year, amounted barely to 16,000. Three thousand of these were with Gates at Providence; 7,000 in the neighbourhood of Middlebrook, the winter-quarters of Washington; of the remaining 6,000, part were in the Highlands completing the defences of West Point, under M‘Dougall, and the remainder under Israel Putnam, on the east side of the Hudson. As the British had 11,000 men at New York, and 5,000 at Newport, Washington did not deem it prudent to attack either of these places.

We now return to the South. When Colonel Campbell was despatched to Georgia, orders were sent to General Prevost in East Florida, to march his troops to his aid and to assume command. In this march along the uninhabited coast, which at that time lay between Florida and Georgia, his soldiers suffered greatly, having frequently no other provisions than oysters. Sunbury, a fort garrisoned by 200 provincials, Savannah being at that time in the hands of the British, surrendered with but little show of resistance. Arrived at Savannah, General Prevost assumed command, and then despatched Colonel Campbell against Augusta, which also surrendered, the garrison and the more patriotic inhabitants escaping across the river Savannah into South Carolina. The whole of Georgia was thus in the hands of the British.

When the news of this easy conquest reached Charleston, the South Carolina militia were called out, but the call was reluctantly obeyed. The American forces under General Lincoln, principally consisting of North Carolina militia, amounted to about 1,400, and these were stationed to guard the passages of the Savannah river, which formed the boundary between Georgia and South Carolina. Although the troops of Prevost amounted to a much larger number, he hesitated to attack Charleston, but sent an expedition against Port Royal, which was so bravely defended by General Moultrie, that they were defeated with considerable loss.

The population of the three southern provinces, Georgia and the two Carolinas, was of a mixed character, without any bond of religion or interest, very different indeed to that of the north. The wealthy planters along the sea-coast were mostly Whigs, but the excess of slave population left the country without soldiers. The interior of the country was occupied by scattered settlements of Dutch, Germans, Quakers, Irish Presbyterians and Scotch Highlanders, who held little intercourse with each other. The Quakers, Dutch and Germans, meddling little with politics, inclined to submit to the British army for the sake of peace and quietness. The Irish Presbyterians were Whigs, the Scotch Highlanders Tories, as were the so-called Regulators of North Carolina, and the Scotch and British traders of the interior.[[24]]

The success of the British in Georgia encouraged the loyalists of these remote regions to rise. They were many of them men to whom excitement of any kind was welcome. Hardy and desperate in their lives, they are described by a writer of those days as having long been in the condition of outlaws, ready to attach themselves to the Indians or any others for incursions on the frontiers. The nature and remoteness of the country enabled them to keep up a free intercourse with their old friends, like-minded with themselves, who had however, for the sake of remaining quiet, submitted to the present government. From these circumstances, and the cast of mind acquired by their constant intercourse with the savages, they were ever ready to take up arms, and many of those who continued in the occupation of their farms and had the character of peaceable men, occasionally joined those parties which were openly in arms on the frontiers, and bore a share in all the devastation they committed.[[25]]

About 700 of these people therefore embodied themselves, and set out towards Augusta, intending there to join the royal troops, and committing great devastation and many cruelties by the way. They were, however, attacked by a body of South Carolina militia, under Colonel Pickens, when very near the end of their march; their leader, Colonel Boyd, was slain; 400 of their number killed or taken prisoners, seventy of whom, being put on trial for treason, were found guilty, but five only of the most influential executed; the remaining 300 reached Augusta.

The most terrible feature of the war in the south was the rancorous party-spirit which prevailed in it. Four battalions of Carolina loyalists had already joined the British army in Georgia, one of which was commanded by a Colonel Brown, originally a trader. This man who had formerly been tarred and feathered by the Whigs now pursued them with implacable hatred, and, following the example set at Augusta, hung all his Whig prisoners.

General Lincoln being reinforced by accessions of militia which had arrived for the protection of South Carolina, was stationed at Purysburg, on the north bank of the Savannah, about twenty miles above the city of that name, and now despatched General Ashe, with about 2,000 men of the Georgia and Carolina militia, to take up a position nearly opposite Augusta. On this movement General Prevost recalled the British force from that place, with orders to take up their post at Hudson’s Ferry, lower down the river. On the retreat of the British, Lincoln, whose intention it was to retake Georgia and confine Prevost to the coast, ordered General Ashe to leave his baggage behind, to cross over into Georgia and take up his position at Briar Creek, a very strong situation. This was done; Briar Creek, which was too deep to be forded, covered his front, the river Savannah and a deep morass covered his left, and 200 horse guarded his right. No attack was suspected; General Prevost manœuvred on the banks of the river between Ebenezer and Savannah, and Lincoln kept himself on the alert, expecting that the danger lay in that quarter. In the meantime a detachment was proceeding by a circuitous march to attack Ashe’s rear, while another detachment advanced as if to attack Lincoln in front, where he was unassailable, but in fact merely to divert his attention. The feint was entirely successful. The rear, totally unprepared for attack, was surprised in open daylight, and throwing down their arms without firing a shot, whole regiments of militia fled. The deep creek and the marsh, otherwise their security, became thus the means of their destruction. Stupified by terror, great numbers were drowned in the one and swallowed up in the other. A few officers and one North Carolina regiment endeavoured to retrieve the fortunes of the day by a brave but ineffectual defence; but the chances were all against them. About 400 were killed and made prisoners, among the latter of whom was Brigadier-General Elbert, a brave man and the second in command; the numbers who perished in the river and the swamp are unknown; 450 were all who rejoined Lincoln’s army. Seven pieces of cannon, almost all their arms and ammunition, and such baggage as they had with them, fell into the hands of the British, whose loss only amounted to five killed and eleven wounded.

This disastrous and disgraceful defeat enabled the British to reoccupy Augusta, and gave them once more undisputed possession of Georgia. Such being the case, Prevost secured the co-operation of the loyalists, by proclaiming Sir James Wright governor and reestablishing a royal legislature, as it existed before 1775.

The present alarming state of affairs was useful in arousing the Carolinians. Every effort was now made to reinforce General Lincoln’s army. John Rutledge, a popular man, in whom all had confidence, was appointed governor and vested with extraordinary powers; a stringent militia law was enforced, and by the middle of April, two months after the defeat at Briar Creek, Lincoln found himself at the head of 5,000 men. About the end of that month, therefore, leaving General Moultrie with 1,500 troops to garrison the lower passes of the river, at Purysburg and the Black Swamp, Lincoln, hoping to recover the upper parts of Georgia, as well as to protect the meeting of the assembly of that state, quitted his position, which had hitherto enabled him to protect Charleston, and proceeded towards Augusta. The movement was unfortunate. No sooner was he gone than General Prevost, whose force had received a considerable accession of loyalists from South Carolina as well as Georgia, resolved to cross the river and penetrate into Carolina, where he knew that the royal cause had many friends, and at the same time to obtain a good store of provisions, of which he was in want. Crossing the Savannah, therefore, at the end of April, with about 3,000 men, Prevost advanced forward with but little opposition from Moultrie, whose troops behaved no better than those of Ashe at Briar Creek, though defended like them by almost impassable swamps, and who now fled before him to Charleston. The ease with which every impediment was overcome by the British army, the assurance which the general received on all hands from the loyalist party that Charleston would surrender without resistance on his first appearance, furnished a new object to his enterprise.

Lincoln was on his way to Augusta, when news reached him of the British army having crossed the Savannah, and believing it only a foraging expedition, he contented himself with sending off a battalion to reinforce Moultrie. A few days later an express conveyed to him the more serious information that the British army was now several days on its march towards Charleston; the country was up, and hundreds flocking to the royal standard. Without a moment’s delay the American army now re-crossed the river, and a detachment on horseback was sent forward for the greater despatch.

The British army was in the meantime advancing on the capital of South Carolina, almost without opposition. Moultrie’s militia, which was retreating before him, was weakened at every turn; for as the effects and families of the militia lay on the very line of retreat, they deserted for considerations which were nearer to them than patriotism and honour. The British general himself, astonished at his undertaking, delayed and deliberated instead of availing himself of all the advantages which offered; which had he done, and marched at once upon Charleston, he might have taken the city at once. As it was, the townspeople had time to throw up fortifications, at which every master and slave laboured alike; and Charleston was saved for that time.

On the 11th of May the British army appeared before the city, and Moultrie, with the remains of his troops, the battalion despatched by Lincoln, and Rutledge with 500 militia, were then within its walls. Pulaski and his legion arrived at the same time as the enemy, while Lincoln with his army might be daily expected. There was no immediate fear, therefore, for the town, and Rutledge, when summoned to surrender under favourable conditions, proposed stipulations of neutrality for South Carolina during the war. The terms of each party were rejected by the other, and the townspeople and garrison prepared for a general assault, which was expected on the morrow. The British general now found himself in a difficult and dangerous position. The spirit friendly to the royal cause, which he had been led to expect in Charleston, did not meet him there; on the contrary, the town was prepared for vigorous resistance; he had neither battering artillery nor a naval force to co-operate with him, and Lincoln, with a force equal if not superior to his own, might hourly be looked for. Under these considerations it was better to provide for his own safety than to risk a doubtful contest. Leaving, therefore, a guard at the river Ashley, the British troops quietly retreated during the night, the garrison, who stood to their arms all night in fear of a sudden attack, not having the least suspicion of such a movement. The enemy had retreated to the islands of St. James and St. John, which lie to the southward of Charleston harbour—the commencement of a labyrinth of islands which continue to the sea. These islands, being well cultivated and fertile, afforded good quarters and excellent provision for his army, which retired in a few days, carrying off with them about 4,000 slaves as booty. Lincoln, in the meantime, having arrived, attacked the British at Stono River, where was a strong redoubt between the mainland and St. John’s Island. The attack was made with great spirit, and so vigorously repelled, that the Americans were obliged to retire with considerable loss.

The hot season was now at hand, and both the British and American troops began to suffer severely from fever. In order, therefore, to have an eligible retreat for his army during the intense heats and the unhealthy season which was commencing, and at the same time to keep hold on South Carolina, General Prevost determined to secure possession of Beaufort, in Port Royal, by placing a garrison there under Colonel Maitland, after which he retired to Savannah with his main army.

While these events were occurring in South Carolina, Sir Henry Clinton despatched from New York a fleet under command of Commodore Collier, now appointed to the naval command in America, with 2,000 troops under Major-General Mathews, to make a descent upon Virginia, and by devastating the coast and plundering the country, to inflict as much misery and ruin on the colonies as possible. Entering the Chesapeake, the squadron which escorted the troops advanced up Elizabeth River, and took possession of the town and fort of Portsmouth, the garrison of which, knowing themselves incapable of defence, fled at the approach of the enemy. On the opposite side of the river stood the town of Norfolk, which having already been destroyed in the present war was just recovering from its ruin, and now also fell into the hands of the enemy. These two towns were the seats of the Virginian foreign export trade, which, spite of the war, was considerable; and higher up the river lay Gosport, where the state of Virginia had established a navy yard. A great number of ships lay at these different places, among the rest two large French merchantmen laden with tobacco, which the Americans burnt, together with several of their own ships, on the approach of the fleet, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy. In the meantime detachments having landed carried fire and sword inland. The town of Suffolk was attacked and plundered, as were the villages of Kempes’, Shepherd’s and Tanner’s Creeks. “Within a fortnight,” says the British chronicler of that day, “while the fleet and army continued on the coast, the loss of the Americans was prodigious.” To say nothing of cruelty, outrage, and general devastation practised on defenceless people, above 130 ships and vessels of various kinds were destroyed. “Seventeen were brought away as prizes, all that were on the stocks were burnt, naval stores were carried off or destroyed, as well as everything relative to the building or fitting up of ships. Among other booty carried off were 3,000 hogsheads of tobacco. The damage done in this expedition was estimated at above half a million sterling.”[[26]]

Spite of the flattering assurances of support which the naval and military commanders received from the loyalist inhabitants of Virginia, and which were eagerly reported by them to Sir Henry Clinton, and spite of the advantages which they urged would accrue to the royalist cause by converting Portsmouth into a place of arms, and thus destroying the trade of the Chesapeake, Sir Henry issued orders of recall; and the fleet and the army having fired the storehouses and dock-yard buildings of Gosport, set sail with their booty and prizes, and reached New York within a month of their setting sail.

The British troops were needed to assist in an attack on the American works, situated at Stony and Verplank’s Points, two opposite projections on the Hudson, about forty miles north of New York, and highly important to the Americans, as commanding a ferry, the loss of which would oblige them to make a detour of ninety miles through the mountains, to communicate with the eastern and southern provinces. To prevent the completion of these works, therefore, Sir Henry Clinton undertook an expedition in person, which set out on the last day of May. His first object of attack was Stony Point on the west bank of the river, which being unfinished and incapable of defence was evacuated at his approach. Cannon placed on the heights of Stony Point unfortunately commanded Verplank’s Point, on which a little fortress called La Fayette was just completed, and this being invested from the land side also was compelled, after a brave resistance, to surrender. These important works being secured, Clinton ordered them immediately to be completed, and on the 2nd of June encamped his army at Philipsburg, half-way between Verplank’s Point and New York; and Washington, in order the better to cover the yet unfinished works of the Americans in the Highlands, which were endangered by the garrisons of these conquered posts, removed his army from Middlebrook to New Jersey.

While the campaign on land was confined to the surprise of posts and desultory expeditions, the Connecticut cruisers, with their whaleboats and other small craft, seriously inconvenienced and distressed the British army and the loyalist city of New York, by intercepting and taking almost every vessel that came upon their waters, and in preventing any intercourse with Long Island, whence the supplies of the army and city were principally sent. To put a stop to this annoyance, as well as to make a most severe retaliation, Sir Henry Clinton ordered ex-governor Tryon, now a general officer, to embark with about 2,600 men. On July 5th, the fleet reached New Haven, which was plundered and the fort with everything available for naval or military purposes destroyed; but the town was spared because the inhabitants made but small resistance. Fairfield and Norwalk, however, two other ports having a stronger military force, fared much worse; both towns, together with Greenfield, a village near Norwalk, were set on fire and everything of value destroyed. The loss which the Americans sustained in this predatory expedition was very great; besides houses and other property, shipping of all kinds with stores and merchandise were destroyed totally. After these devastations on the mainland, he was proceeding to Long Island, intending to make a descent on New London, when he was suddenly recalled. Whether he had exceeded the orders of Clinton in these outrages, or whether his forces were required in another direction, of which we shall speak anon, is not known; but probably the former cause had some influence, for Tryon deemed it necessary to excuse the fires and destruction which marked his career, by a letter to the general, in which he said that the Americans, or usurpers, as he called them, placed their hopes of securing the empire by avoiding decisive actions, and in the escape of their own property during the protraction of the war. Their power, he said, was supported by the dread of their tyranny and the arts which they practised to inspire the credulous public with confidence in the forbearance of the royal forces. It had been his wish, therefore, to detect this delusion, and that without injury to the loyalists. All that he regretted was that places of worship were burnt; but these, he said, being built of boards and standing among the houses, could not be preserved, it being impossible to fix limits to a conflagration.

The surprise of Verplank’s and Stony Points had, as we have said, called Washington out of New Jersey, and he was now encamped on high and strong ground above those places, and on each side of North River. Sir Henry Clinton desired nothing more than to draw him down from these fastnesses into the flat country, and bring on a general engagement in such ground as would insure success to the British army. But Washington was too wary to be seduced into such an error. Nevertheless he was not inactive. While the two armies lay, as it were, watching each other, a bold enterprise was undertaken and executed with so much spirit and success as to be the most brilliant action of the whole campaign. This was no other than the surprise and retaking of Stony Point, the works of which had been now carefully completed and strongly garrisoned by the British.

Washington appointed General Wayne to this arduous task. On the 15th of July this detachment set out, having to march over mountains, across morasses, and through difficult defiles, where they were obliged to advance in single file the greater part of the way. By eight in the evening they were within a mile of the fort, when they halted and formed into two columns as they came up; after which Wayne and his officers silently reconnoitred the works. About midnight the two columns marched to the attack from different points; and here it is worth observing that the van, consisting of 150 picked men, advanced with unloaded muskets and bayonets fixed—the bayonet, which had been so often fatal to the Americans, being the only weapon used in this attack. The most wonderful discipline prevailed in these troops; both columns were commanded not to fire a shot, and not a shot was fired. They advanced through the most difficult approaches, the ground being covered at that time with the tide, through a morass, removing as they went the formidable works in front and flank, and in the face of an incessant fire of musketry. On they went, their numbers thinned at every step, and at about one in the morning the two columns met at the same moment in the centre of the works. Wayne, though wounded in the head, refused to retire; his loss in killed and wounded was about 100; about fifty of the garrison were killed; the remainder, 450, were made prisoners.

As soon as Stony Point was taken, the artillery was turned against Verplank’s; but before anything could be effected, the news of the former achievement had reached Sir Henry Clinton, and the whole British army marched out, whilst the navy advanced up the river to the scene of action. But Washington, who had already completed the object he had in view, which was no other than the destruction of the works and the carrying away the artillery and stores, abandoned the place before the arrival of the British either by land or water.

About the same time that Stony Point was recaptured by Wayne, Major Lee surprised the British garrison at Paulus Hook, New Jersey city, a point of land opposite New York; killed thirty and took 160 prisoners. These triumphs, however, were painfully counterbalanced by an unsuccessful attempt in the north. During the summer an expedition had been undertaken by the British to plant a strong post on the Penobscot, in the eastern and unsettled parts of Maine, which, causing serious alarm, led the state of Massachusetts to fit out an expedition to prevent its accomplishment. So urgent and important was the undertaking considered, that in order to secure armed vessels and transports, Massachusetts laid an embargo on its shipping for forty days. By this means a very considerable armament was fitted out with no loss of time, under the conduct of Commodore Saltonstall, a Connecticut sea-captain.

Fifteen hundred militia were embarked in this fleet, under General Lovel, a man greatly beloved and esteemed, though without military experience.[[27]] On the 25th July, the fleet, to the amount of thirty-seven sail, appeared in the Penobscot, the British colonel, Macleane, having in the meantime put the unfinished fort in as complete a state of defence as the time permitted. With great labour and the loss of about 100 men, the American general at length effected a landing, and on the third day opened a battery, in spite of which, and for many days afterwards, the internal works of the fort went on every day adding to its strength. For a whole fortnight this was continued, cannonading from without, and increasing strength within. At length a general attack both of the fort and the shipping was resolved upon; intelligence of which being carried to the commander by a deserter, he instantly threw up new works which covered the place. But this precaution was unnecessary; news of this expedition had already reached Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir George Collier was despatched with five ships of war to the Penobscot. The commander and the garrison were awaiting the expected attack on the 11th of August, the day intended for it, when, to their infinite astonishment, the Americans were gone; they had during the night re-embarked their forces and artillery, and were nowhere to be seen. At the first approach of the British they had fled up the river. The enemy pursued, three sloops of war which had been confined to the harbour now joining in the chase. Escape was impossible; five frigates and ten smaller vessels were run ashore and blown up; the remainder were taken. The soldiers and sailors escaped to the shore, but the whole region in which they found themselves was a desolate and uninhabited wilderness. The indignation of the land forces on this dastardly termination of their enterprise was so great, that they are said to have come to blows with the seamen in the dreary solitudes through which they had to travel before they could reach an inhabited country. Saltonstall was tried by court-martial and cashiered.

Besides the humiliation and shame of this flight, the loss to Boston in its shipping was almost ruinous. Nineteen vessels of which the squadron consisted were destroyed or taken—a force, it is said, little inferior to that of the royal navy of England at the accession of Elizabeth.

We must now for a moment return to the frontiers to see what is going on there, and taking Hildreth for our guide we shall receive a lucid summary of events. “George Rogers Clarke, still commanding in the newly-conquered Illinois, was giving fresh proofs of vigour and enterprise, and extending also the authority of Virginia. Hamilton, the British commandant of Detroit, descended the Wabash with eighty soldiers to watch Clarke, and organise an expedition against him, in which he expected to be greatly aided by the Indians. Informed of these facts by a French trader, Clarke mustered 170 men, and after sixteen days’ march, five of which were spent in wading the drowned lands on the Wabash, suddenly appeared before Vincennes, which the British had recaptured, and where Hamilton then was. The fort surrendered in a few days, and Hamilton was sent prisoner to Virginia on the charge of having instigated the Indians to cruelty against the colonial settlers.

Security being thus given against the Indians north of the Ohio, the settlement of Kentucky began rapidly to increase, and in April of this year a log-erection formed the commencement of the present city of Lexington. By the Virginia land system, all who had settled west of the mountains before June of the preceding year were entitled to 400 acres, merely for the payment of the taxes on that quantity of land. The whole tract between the Green River and the Tennessee was reserved for military bounties.

While Clarke was extending the domains of Virginia, the first settlements took place in Western Tennessee, under the guidance of James Robinson, who eleven years before had been the patriarch and founder of Eastern Tennessee. With a company of ten persons he followed the Oby to its junction with the Cumberland; some of his companions embarked there, while the rest pursued the riverbanks by land to the spot where now stands the city of Nashville. Here, planting a crop of corn, and leaving three persons to watch it, they returned for their families. Some travelled through the woods, driving their cattle before them; others embarked with the women and children on the head waters of the Tennessee, intending to descend that river to its mouth and then proceed up the Cumberland. But a severe winter delayed them by the way, and their destination was not reached till the following spring.

Thus sprung up the future states of the West, and the red man retired from before the white. In the meantime war, which the Indian rendered so much more formidable from his British alliance, was continued on the western frontiers of the eastern states. Again we will follow our former guide. “The Six Nations, with the exception of the Oneidas, carried on a border warfare. The Senecas, and the loyalist refugees among them, ravaged the frontiers of New York and Pennsylvania; and the Onondagas, though professing neutrality, shared in their hostilities.

“To check these depredations, a strong force under General Sullivan was sent against them. The troops assembled at Wyoming, where they were joined by a New York brigade, under James Clinton, who effected the junction of the troops in a singular manner; crossing from the Mohawk, where he had been stationed, to Lake Otsego, he dammed up the lake, and so raised up its level, and then, by breaking away the dam, produced an artificial flood, by which the boats were rapidly earned down the north-east branch of the Susquehannah. While this was being effected, the terrible Brandt surprised, plundered and burnt the village of Minisink, near the north-west corner of Jersey; and a detachment of militia sent in pursuit, falling into an ambush, were nearly all slain.

“Sullivan’s army, amounting to 5,000 men, passed up the Chemung branch of the Susquehannah, in the month of August, and at Elmira encountered a strong body of combined Indians and loyalists, under Brandt, Butler and Johnson, which they completely defeated, and in pursuit crossed into the hitherto unexplored valley of the Genessee. In order that the want of food might compel the Indians and their allies to quit that part of the country, everything was ravaged. The ancient Indian orchards were cut down, vast quantities of corn were destroyed, and eighteen villages burnt to the ground. This expedition, through an unknown country, covered for the most part with thick forests, was extremely laborious, nor did it wholly accomplish its object; the Indians and loyalists, though dispersed for the moment, soon renewed their depredations, which were continued as long as the British war lasted, and to which the fury of revenge now added increased ferocity.”

CHAPTER IX.
REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued).

The struggle between Great Britain and her colonies was watched with great anxiety by Spain, who, having herself a colonial empire, dreaded the effect of example. Spain offered herself as mediator in the quarrel, and was accepted as such, though nothing was effected thereby; not even the terms of mediation being agreed upon. Various considerations, however, inclined her now to favour the cause of the Americans, although she did not acknowledge their independence. She was desirous of recovering Gibraltar, the loss of which had so deeply humiliated her national pride, besides Jamaica and the two Floridas, with a territory on the east bank of the Mississippi, which latter she hoped to obtain through the gratitude of America. She declared war, therefore, against Great Britain, and, in conjunction with France, a formidable armament appeared on the English coast—a second armada, to be dispersed like the former one by tempest, and desolated by disease as pitiless as war itself, upwards of 5,000 soldiers dying in their ships within a very few weeks.

While Spain was assuming the character of mediator between the two contending parties, there had been so little good faith on her part, that the Spanish governors and commanders in the West Indies and America were aware of the intended declaration of war before it was made known in Europe. The infant settlements of Louisiana were as yet attached to those of West Florida, and though, as we have already said, they had submitted to the Americans in the preceding year, the submission had been but temporary, and British troops had been since then stationed there to preserve their allegiance. The moment, therefore, that Don Bernando de Galvez, the Spanish governor of Louisiana, heard of the declaration of war with Great Britain, he proclaimed the independence of America by beat of drum, and having already assembled his forces, consisting of Spanish regulars, American volunteers and negroes, at New Orleans, set out on an expedition against the British settlements on the Mississippi. So well had he laid all his plans, that Major-General Campbell, who commanded at Pensacola, was not aware of danger even threatening the western part of that province, until the Spaniard was in possession of it. With the same address and expedition he succeeded in taking a royal sloop which was stationed on Lake Pontchartrain, as well as several vessels laden with provisions and necessaries for the British troops. In this manner were Baton Rouge and Fort Panmure, near Natchez, taken, and a few months later Mobile; and for the honour of the Spanish general it must be told that, in all his successes, his conduct was marked by good faith, humanity and kindness. By the end of the year 1779, Pensacola was the only post of West Florida remaining to the British.

In the meantime, events of some importance had been occurring in the West Indies. The island of Dominica had already been taken from the British by an expedition from Martinique, when the English and French fleets, which respectively sailed from Boston and New York on the same day, reached the West Indies. The British fleet first arriving, proceeded immediately against St. Lucie, which was taken, spite of D’Estaing’s attempt to retain it. On its surrender, the French fleet retired to the harbour of Port Royal in Martinique. The fleets of the French and English were about equal, and the latter used every means in their power to bring about a naval engagement; but D’Estaing was not to be provoked to action. His imperturbability was unaccountable, excepting that he was in daily expectation of reinforcements. Reinforcements came, but not alone for the French—Admiral Rowley joined the British squadron about the same time, with several ships of war. The noxious climate of St. Lucie, however, having caused a terrible mortality in the British troops, Admiral Byron left the island to convoy a numerous fleet of merchantmen to England, and D’Estaing sent out a detachment against St. Vincent’s, which was surrendered at once without a shot being fired. Large reinforcements again arrived from France, and D’Estaing, now willing enough for action, proceeded against the island of Granada, with a fleet of six-and-twenty ships of the line, with frigates, and 10,000 land forces. The whole defence of the island was less than 1,000 men, and its sole strength consisted in a fortified hill, which commanded the capital, St. George, its forts and harbour. The island had just surrendered after a bloody defence, when Byron returned, and hearing of the loss of St. Vincent’s and the attack on Granada, proceeded at once to the latter place, though his fleet was now considerably weakened by the convoy he had sent to England. To his disappointment, the French flag was flying on the fort as he came within sight of the island. An engagement however took place, but of an indecisive character, and the English fleet, greatly damaged, retired to St. Christopher’s to repair.

Soon after these events D’Estaing, leaving the West Indies, proceeded to the coast of Georgia with twenty-two ships of the line. The strong position which the British forces had so easily gained in Georgia and South Carolina, was not only distressing in its present effect, but alarming with regard to its probable consequences in the American struggle. The scene of action was almost out of the reach of the main army and the seat of council, while the British marine force afforded decided advantages to their troops in a country bordered by the sea, and chequered with inland navigation. To all appearances the subjugation of the Southern States was almost complete. The most serious apprehension prevailed, and it was determined to bring, if possible, the French fleet into useful operation. As yet America had derived no essential service from her French allies. The attempt on Rhode Island had been productive of expense, danger, and loss, without the slightest benefit. The mischief and inconvenience to the southern provinces had been permitted without the slightest interference. As regarded the whole conduct of the French commander, the Americans had the utmost cause for dissatisfaction; they had supplied and equipped his fleet at Boston, only to enable him to abandon their southern coasts at the moment of their greatest danger, and when the seizure of Savannah and Georgia opened the whole Carolinas to the British. Finally, the Americans complained that while the French were enriching themselves in the West Indies, they were left to bear all the burden of the war, contrary to the stipulations of the treaty. The Americans complained bitterly.

Immediately, therefore, after the action before Granada, and in consequence of this dissatisfaction, D’Estaing received orders from home to render some essential service to his allies. He was firstly commanded to free the southern colonies from their present danger, by the destruction of the small force under Prevost; and secondly, to co-operate with Washington in a simultaneous attack by land and water on New York.

At the end of August, D’Estaing stood for the coast of Georgia with twenty-two ships of the line, and news being sent to General Lincoln at Charleston of his approach, no time was lost in preparing for an attack on Savannah. As if in good augury of their success, the French fleet, by its sudden appearance on the coast, surprised and captured some British vessels, laden with provisions. Lincoln, in the meantime, reinforced by several North Carolina regiments, despatched by Washington to the south, and by the militia, which marched out in great numbers, hastened to Savannah, which, greatly to the surprise and displeasure of the American general, D’Estaing had summoned to surrender “to his most Christian Majesty of France.”

Prevost, on the first rumour of the danger which awaited him, summoned to Savannah the greater part of the British forces from Port Royal and other places; and removing the shipping higher up the river, destroyed the batteries on the island of Tybee, and put the city in a rapid state of defence. In reply to D’Estaing’s summons of surrender, Prevost, whose expected reinforcements had not yet arrived, requested a suspension of hostilities for four-and-twenty hours, to which D’Estaing agreed, who not having, as yet, formed a junction with the American forces under Lincoln, knew not the importance and necessity of an immediate attack. Within the four-and twenty hours the reinforcements arrived. Three cheers, which rung from one end of the town to the other, welcomed them, and Prevost notified D’Estaing the following day that he would defend the place.

Pulaski with his legion, and Lincoln with 3,000 men, proceeded to besiege the town, with regular approaches. On the 24th of September the siege commenced; D’Estaing grew impatient of these operations, and at midnight, between the 3rd and 4th of October, a heavy bombardment, which lasted for five days, was commenced. The effect of this fell mostly upon the town, where, besides the destruction of houses and people, women, children and negroes were the greatest sufferers. Prevost, touched by the sufferings of these defenceless people, whose distress and danger were increased by the number of burning houses, wrote a letter to D’Estaing, requesting permission to send them down the river in vessels intrusted to the care of the French, there to await the result of the siege, acquainting him that his own wife and family should be the first to profit by this permission. For three hours the discharge of cannon and shells was continued, and then a refusal, signed both by Lincoln and D’Estaing, was returned.

The siege promised to be tedious, and D’Estaing’s patience was worn out. The obstructions in the narrow part of the channel prevented his fleet from approaching the shore; and he now became afraid that one of those hurricanes common to this season might drive it out to sea, or it might be attacked by the British while so many of his guns and troops were otherwise employed. Full of impatient fears, he insisted upon the town being carried by assault; and on the 9th of October, two columns, the picked men of both armies, were led to the assault by D’Estaing and Lincoln. It was a fatal step; by a strange mistake, the attack that was to be made at four in the morning was delayed till broad daylight; and the garrison directed their guns with fatal aim upon the advancing assailants. Some of the outer works were taken, but the most fearful carnage marked every step. At length, Pulaski, at the head of his legion, was mortally wounded, and the Americans fled; D’Estaing received two wounds, and the French were repulsed with great slaughter.

The loss of the French and the Americans was about 1,100, that of the British only fifty-five. On the 18th the siege was raised, and D’Estaing, as soon as he could re-embark his troops, set sail for the West Indies. Lincoln returned to Charleston, and the militia were disbanded. It was the most disastrous attempt which had been made during the war. This second failure at co-operation with the French caused still greater dissatisfaction.

Among others who fell at Savannah was that Sergeant Jasper who had distinguished himself so gallantly in the defence of Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan’s Island, in 1776. Moultrie’s regiment had been presented with a stand of colours, by a Mrs. Elliot, embroidered by her own hands; and Jasper, as a reward of his own individual merit, had received a handsome sword from Governor Rutledge. During the assault of Savannah, two officers having been killed in endeavouring to plant these colours, and a third wounded, Jasper seized them and was in the act of planting them, when he too fell mortally wounded. Pulaski, severely wounded, was carried on board a vessel for Charleston, but he died on the way, and was buried beneath the waves. Funeral rites were performed at Charleston, and all America mourned for him who had been one of the truest and bravest supporters of her cause.

The appearance of D’Estaing on the southern coast suspended all active operations at New York, in the apprehension of a formidable concerted attack by sea and land, from the combined French and American forces. Washington also, on his part, expected this co-operation, and had prepared himself for it by calling out the militia of the northern provinces; it being supposed by all parties that Savannah would soon surrender, and D’Estaing then proceed northward. Clinton took active measures for the strengthening of New York, and so momentous was the crisis considered, that the troops were withdrawn from Newport, in Rhode Island, as well as from Verplank’s and Stony Points, all of which were thus again suffered to fall into the hands of the Americans. When, however, it was clearly ascertained that D’Estaing was gone, Sir Henry Clinton, relieved from any apprehension regarding the north, set sail for Savannah with 7,000 troops, 2,000 of whom were American loyalists, while the same number remained behind under Kniphausen, who held New York with a powerful garrison. The militia of the northern provinces was disbanded; and Washington, anxious for the future, and disappointed and disgusted by the conduct of his allies, went into winter-quarters near Morristown.

Although the American efforts at naval warfare were now considerably diminished, owing to the increased vigilance of the British squadron, and to want of funds on the part of the colonies; still many armed vessels, both public and private, were on the seas, and a considerable amount of the French loan was employed in the fitting out of cruisers in the French ports.

It was in the autumn of this year that the renowned sea-fight took place, which made the name of Paul Jones one of terror in the British seas. Paul Jones was a native of Scotland, who emigrated to America, made money and in 1773 settled in Virginia. On the breaking out of the war, he was one of the first officers commissioned in the American navy. He cruised in the West Indies, picked up many prizes, and showed on all occasions great boldness and address. In 1777 he was sent to France, and there appointed to the command of a French ship under American colours. The next year, cruising on the coast of Great Britain, from the Land’s End to Solway Frith, where as yet the American flag had never ventured, he made a descent on the Scotch coast near Kirkcudbright, and plundered the house of the Earl of Selkirk, where, tradition says, he had once lived as servant, and a second by night on the Cumberland coast, at Whitehaven, where he spiked the guns in the fort, and burned one or two vessels. For a whole summer he kept the north-western coast of England and the southern coast of Scotland in a continual state of alarm, and made his name one of terror. The next year he returned to cruise on the eastern coast, no longer with a single ship, but a squadron, manned by French and Americans. This squadron consisted of the Bonhomme Richard, of forty guns, which he himself commanded, the Alliance of thirty-six, the Pallas, a frigate of thirty-two, and two other smaller vessels. Cruising with these ships, he fell in with a British merchant-fleet, on its return from the Baltic, under convoy of Captain Pearson, with the Serapis, of forty-four guns, and a smaller frigate; and one of the most desperate naval engagements on record took place off Flamborough Head. About seven o’clock in the evening, Paul Jones in the Bonhomme Richard, engaged Captain Pearson in the Serapis, the ships advancing nearer and nearer, until at length they dropped alongside of each other, head and stern, and so close that the muzzles of the guns grated. In this close contact the action continued with the greatest fury till half-past ten, during which time, Jones, who had the greater number of men, vainly attempted to board, and the Serapis was set on fire ten or twelve times. Every time the fire was extinguished, till at length, a cartridge of powder taking fire, a great number of officers and men were killed. After a desperate and last attempt to board Paul Jones, Captain Pearson hauled down his colours, two-thirds of his men being killed or wounded, and his main-mast gone by the board. The Bonhomme Richard was in little better condition, for, to add to her misfortunes, the Alliance coming up in the darkness and confusion of the night, and mistaking her for the enemy, had fired a broadside into her, not discovering his error till the glare of the burning Serapis had revealed it. The next day, Paul Jones was obliged to quit his ship, and she sank at sea almost immediately, with, it is said, great numbers of the wounded on board. Of the 375 men whom she carried, 300 were killed or wounded. The Pallas captured the Countess of Scarborough, and Jones, on the 6th of October, succeeded in carrying his shattered vessels into the waters of the Texel.[[28]]

The gloom which overspread the public mind at the close of this year had its origin in many causes, not the least of which was the disappointment arising from the French alliance. Not alone had the French been useless to the republican cause, as far as their own efforts went, but this alliance with a powerful nation, from which such great advantages were expected, had disposed a considerable portion of the American public to sink into an apathetic state, waiting, as it were, for others to do the work; and now that the others had not done it, they were depressed and almost hopeless of the cause itself. This despondency and apathy alarmed the earnest patriots, and Washington and the other leaders called upon the nation in the most earnest and solemn manner to rouse from their lethargy, and trust neither to chance nor to strangers, but to their own exertions for the establishment of their rights. There was but little response to the appeal; the very army itself seemed affected by the lethargic torpor of the public mind.[[29]]

Another cause of anxiety and distress we have already alluded to. This was the depreciation of the paper currency. At the close of this year a dollar in specie could scarcely be obtained for forty in bills. But the very paper was fluctuating in value. Hence a set of men arose, who, speculating on this currency, amassed immense wealth, while honest men and the nation itself were reduced to beggary. One cause of the depreciation of the American paper at this time, was the disgraceful fact that England herself turned forger, and sent over immense quantities of spurious hills, so well imitated as scarcely to be distinguished from the true, and which her emissaries distributed through the country, causing the utmost distress and confusion, and the recall of several issues of American paper.

Very different was the state of things in England. Spite of her having to carry on war at this time both with France and Spain, and though several of the European nations joined in an “armed neutrality” against her, renewed exertions were made at the close of this year for prosecuting the war with the colonies. Eighty-five thousand marines, and 35,000 troops, in addition to those already engaged, were voted by parliament for the following year, together with the enormous sum of five millions for carrying out this service.

Admiral Arbuthnot had been sent from England in the spring with reinforcements, but did not arrive at New York till August. In December, his fleet conveyed Sir Henry Clinton and his 7,000 troops to the south, and after a tempestuous voyage, landed them at Tybee Island in Savannah harbour, on the last day of January, 1780.

The winter of 1780 was extremely severe; the Hudson and the harbour of New York were frozen over. The garrison and the inhabitants, cut off from their usual supplies by water, suffered extremely from the great scarcity of fuel and fresh provisions. In the expectation that Washington might cross the ice for a general attack, the whole population was put under arms, and the so-called “Board of Associated Loyalists” formed for the defence of the city. But Washington was in no condition to undertake such an enterprise. His entire force did not exceed 10,000 men—a smaller number than composed the garrison of New York; many were militia, whose term of enlistment was expiring; and though congress had called upon the states to send in their quotas, so as to form an army of 35,000 men, this was not done. Recruits could only be obtained on increased bounties, which caused great dissatisfaction to the old soldiers enlisted for the war. Indeed, as regarded the whole state of the American army, nothing could be more discouraging. In a report sent to congress this spring, it was said, “the army was five months unpaid; it seldom had more than six days’ provision in advance, and was on several occasions, for sundry successive days, without meat; it was destitute of forage; the medical department had neither sugar, tea, chocolate, wine, nor spirits; every department was without money or even the shadow of credit.”[[30]]

Such was the gloomy prospect in the North; in the South it was even worse. As soon as the transports, which had suffered severely in the voyage, were refitted at Savannah, Sir Henry Clinton embarked, and proceeding to Charleston, landed his troops on St. John’s island, and afterwards took possession of St. James’s, the same islands, lying at the mouth of Charleston harbour, which we have already mentioned in General Prevost’s expedition. The intention being to blockade the town, the British army gradually advanced through the islands to the mainland. Several weeks were spent in this occupation, and Lincoln employed the same time in strengthening and completing the fortifications. Governor Rutledge was invested with dictatorial powers, and slaves were impressed to labour at the works. The neighbouring militia was called upon, but the call was not obeyed, the plea being that no man dared to leave his home, fearing an insurrection of the negroes, and their desertion to the enemy. In this emergency it was earnestly recommended by some to raise 2,000 negro troops, to be purchased at a certain price from their owners, and emancipated when the war was over. But this plan was not agreed to, though it may be mentioned here that many negroes served in the war of the southern states, with great credit as soldiers, and received their freedom in consequence.

The British operations before Charleston were rapid and successful; the success both at Savannah and Charleston being attributed in great measure to the skill of the British engineer Moncrief. General Lincoln depended upon four American and two French frigates for the defence of the harbour; but in defiance of these, the English ships crossed the bar, and entered the harbour without loss or difficulty. To prevent the enemy from ascending Cooper’s River, between which and the Ashley River Charleston stands, a number of merchant vessels now useless were sunk. Taking, however, advantage of wind and water, the British admiral having overcome these obstacles, passed with but trifling loss the heavy batteries of Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island, which had already become so celebrated for the obstinate and successful defence made against the attack of Sir Peter Parker. As yet the communication with the country north of Cooper’s River was kept open by two regiments of horse, stationed about twenty miles above Charleston. These, however, were surprised, dispersed and partly cut to pieces by a detachment of British cavalry, led by the enterprising Colonel Tarleton, and supported by light infantry under Major Ferguson. By these means the passes of Cooper’s River were in the hands of the British, and the only road for retreat was closed, and shortly afterwards, a large reinforcement arriving from New York, the collected remains of the cavalry were again attacked, and again defeated by Tarleton. The whole country north of Cooper’s River was now occupied by the British, and the investment of the town was complete. Step by step the defences of Charleston had given way. On the very day that the cavalry were defeated, Fort Moultrie, threatened both by land and sea, surrendered. The inhabitants losing all hope and courage, proposed to abandon the town, but Lincoln would only consent to capitulation. On the 7th of May, therefore, he opened a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton; but the terms which he proposed were rejected, as higher than a commander in his condition had a right to ask. Hostilities again commenced; the British pushed their operations vigorously; one outwork after another was gained; they had advanced to the very ditch of the town. A new negotiation was opened, and the town surrendered upon the terms which were then offered, and which were considered favourable, the British commanders declaring themselves wishful to conciliate by clemency. On May 12th, the garrison marched out with cased colours and silent drums, surrendering their arms as prisoners of war. The continental troops and seamen were allowed to keep their baggage but were to remain prisoners of war until exchanged; the militia were dismissed on parole, not to serve again in the war. The British report states that seven general officers, ten continental regiments and three battalions of artillery, became prisoners on this occasion. The whole number of men in arms who were taken, exclusive of 1,000 seamen, amounted to 5,611. More than 400 pieces of artillery were also lost to the Americans, besides four frigates.

The lieutenant-governor and five of the council were included in the capitulation, but Governor Rutledge and the three other councillors had left the city before the investment was completed.

A series of rapid successes followed. Three expeditions were immediately sent out—one towards the Savannah River; another seized an important post called Ninety-Six, 150 miles from Charleston; and a third scoured the country between the Cooper and the Santee Rivers. The object of this last expedition, under Lord Cornwallis, was to defeat a body of troops under Colonel Burford, on its march to Charleston. Burford, on receiving tidings of the surrender of the town, retreated rapidly up the north-east bank of the Santee, but Tarleton in pursuit moved more rapidly than he did. By a forced march of 105 miles in fifty-four hours, he came up with him at Waxhaws, on the frontier of North Carolina, took his troops by surprise, attacked and completely defeated them, granting no quarter; and “Tarleton’s quarter,” in memory of the merciless slaughter of this day, has become a Carolina proverb. Burford and a very few only escaped, while the British lost but eighteen. The celerity of British conquest, the rapid speed of the cruel Tarleton, who seemed to possess a terrible ubiquity, spread a panic fear through the South. The patriots fled, and the great mass of the inhabitants rushed to meet the royal troops and offer their allegiance to the British crown. The reduction of South Carolina seemed so complete, that Sir Henry Clinton wrote to England that there were few men in the province who were not prisoners to, or in arms with, the British forces. “South Carolina is English again,” said he, in his exultation.

The conquest of South Carolina thus accomplished, and the hot weather coming on, Sir Henry Clinton began to make arrangements for his return to New York, leaving Lord Cornwallis with 4,000 troops to hold and extend his conquests. Before this was done, however, the royal government was established and a mode of settling the affairs of this province adopted which had long been recommended in England to the British commanders in America. This was by establishing such an internal force in each subjugated province as should in a great measure secure its defence and allegiance, and suppress every tendency to rebellion. Accordingly, proclamations were issued promising full pardon to all who would immediately return to their duty as British subjects. But no neutrals were to be allowed; every man who admitted himself to be a British subject must take up arms in support of the British government. All must be in readiness with their arms at a moment’s notice; they who had families must form a militia for home defence; they who had none must serve in the royal forces any six months in the ensuing twelve. Thus were citizens armed against citizens, and the members of a family one against another. The worst miseries of civil war were introduced; and this was to be done, said the proclamation, “to drive out the rebel oppressors and all the miseries of war from the province.”

This system of intercolonial subjugation was expected to work so efficiently, that Sir Henry Clinton returned to New York, fully believing that a few months would complete the subjection of the whole South, at least. So certain was the British commander of the success of his plans, that before leaving Charleston he sent to bid the loyalists of North Carolina to gather in their crops and keep quiet till autumn, when the British army would march to their assistance.

While these events had been occurring in the South, the American prospects in the North were by no means flattering. The Honourable Board of Associated Loyalists, as they called themselves, organised at New York, possessed at this time, among other means of annoyance to their countrymen, a considerable fleet of small privateers and cruisers, which did great damage. Their enterprises are described as being bold and successful, their intimate knowledge of the coasts, creeks and villages giving them great advantage in their predatory excursions. Many outrages and excesses were committed; party-spirit and private hatred finding here occasions of ample revenge, which was retorted whenever opportunity occurred. In this manner the adjoining coasts of the continent, especially the nearer parts of the Jerseys, became scenes of havoc and waste.[[31]]

A few days previous to the return of Sir Henry Clinton, Generals Kniphausen and Tryon, with 5,000 men, passed over by night from Staten Island to Elizabeth Town in New Jersey, being desirous of bringing Washington from his strong position at Morristown; and the next day marched through a fertile region, scattered parties of the country’s militia firing upon them wherever cover of any kind enabled them to lie concealed. As a little incident of the march, it may be mentioned that they burned a pleasant, peaceful settlement called the Connecticut Farms, with its little Presbyterian meeting-house; and shot, through the window of her house, the wife of the minister, who sat there clustered with her children. This cold-blooded action, like the Indian murder of Jenny M‘Crea, excited the utmost indignation, and greatly increased the hatred which was felt towards the British in those parts.

From Connecticut Farms the army advanced to Springfield, where the American general Maxwell, with the Jersey militia, was strongly posted, on finding which, after a little skirmishing and burning a few houses, the British retired towards Elizabeth Town, being vigorously pursued all the way. On the arrival of Sir Henry Clinton, with his troops from Charleston, the attack on Springfield was again determined upon, and such movements took place among the shipping and such preparations were made, as led Washington to suppose that the strong posts of the Highlands were about to be attacked. Accordingly he marched a considerable number of his troops in that direction, and again the British general hoped that Washington might be seduced from his impregnable camp. In the meantime General Greene, with Stark’s and the Jersey militia, were stationed at Springfield, which lay at the foot of those very hills and defiles which constituted the strength of the country. A column of 6,000 men marched upon Springfield, and a sharp action took place, not less than a hundred were killed on either side, and the village was set on fire. The sight of the flames, it is said, kindled New Jersey. The old spirit of the early days of the revolution was once more awoke. The British were pursued with such vigour that, passing rapidly through Elizabeth Town, they were glad to take refuge in Staten Island.

CHAPTER X.
REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued), 1780.

Sir Henry Clinton left the South, believing that the revolutionary spirit there was so nearly quelled that but little apprehension need be felt regarding it. And as if to strengthen this opinion, a decided victory was gained very soon by Lords Cornwallis and Rawdon (afterwards the Earl of Moira), over the combined American forces, under Baron de Kalb and General Gates, at Camden.

General Gates had been sent by Washington, with a strong force from the North, for the relief of the southern provinces. The season was unhealthy; they marched through a barren and disaffected country, were greatly in want of food, and eating unripe peaches and green corn which soon produced disease, their numbers were sadly weakened and thinned. In the meantime De Kalb, with the Delaware and Maryland regiments, marching south with the same object, suffered equally, collecting their own supplies on the march—lean cattle from the canebrakes and Indian corn, the only grain of those regions.[[32]]

The approach of Gates raised the hopes of the patriots of South Carolina, and Colonel Sumter, who had fled with his partisan-band to North Carolina, on the late triumphs of the British, returned with his fearless followers and made successful attacks on the British posts; while Marion, another bold leader, issuing from the swamps of the Lower Pedee with a number of only half-clad men, began to attack their outposts with equal success. These partisan-bands having joined Gates, he advanced from Clermont, about thirteen miles distant from Camden, on the 5th of August, with the intention of surprising the British camp; while Cornwallis, who had, on his junction with Rawdon, assumed the command, was advancing from Camden with the design of surprising the Americans. The next morning by break of day the two armies encountered each other. Although the Americans greatly outnumbered the British, Gates’ militia, which were new to the field, on the first charge of the British bayonets threw down their arms and fled, General Gates and Governor Casswell being fairly carried off the field by the fugitives, whom they could not rally. In vain did the better disciplined and more experienced regiments of Maryland and Delaware sustain their ground with firmness, and even compel the enemy to retire; they too, being attacked in flank and De Kalb their leader mortally wounded, were broken and fled. The pursuit lasted for twenty-eight miles; every corps, says Hildreth, was scattered; men and officers, separated from each other, fled singly or in small parties through the woods. The road was strewn with killed and wounded. Arms, knapsacks, broken-down wagons and dead horses scattered the road for many miles. Of the Americans, 900 were killed, and about the same number taken prisoners, many of whom were wounded. The British lost only between 300 and 400 men.

A few days afterwards disastrous news reached Gates, and about 200 men, the collected fragments of his late considerable force, now assembled in the Valley of Wateree in North Carolina, about eighty miles from the scene of their terrible defeat. This was, that Sumter, having fled with his followers to the same district, had been pursued by the rapid and merciless Tarleton, in whose furious career more than half his cavalry had broken down. Coming with the remainder in hot speed upon the camp of the partisan leader, who, believing himself safe, had relaxed his guard, he had been surprised, his prisoners released, 300 of his own men captured, and 150 killed, while he himself narrowly escaped with his life.

The Carolinas might now be considered subdued, for no organised American forces remained within them. To make the subjection more complete, and to awe the spirit of insurrection which had shown itself on Gates’ approach, Lord Cornwallis adopted measures of extreme severity. Orders were issued to hang every man now found in arms, who had formerly taken British protection, and several such persons having been discovered among Sumter’s followers, they were accordingly hanged on the spot. The property of all such as had left the province to avoid the British rule, and of all that held commissions under congress, was declared to be sequestrated, and Gadsden and forty other of the principal inhabitants of Charleston, suspected of having corresponded with their friends in arms, were put under arrest and sent prisoners to St. Augustine.

These extreme measures, however, failed of their intended purpose. A reaction, as was sure to be the case, followed. The people, who had been awed into subjection, were now exasperated to revolt. Marion again had a ragged but formidable band under his control among the swamps of the Pedee, and Sumter presently collected a new force with which he harassed the north-western districts, and in which he was aided by volunteers from the mountains. Both were now commissioned as generals, and a guerilla warfare was kept up by them.[[33]]

Nor was the public reaction confined only to the men—it raised the women of South Carolina into heroism. They gloried in being called “rebel-ladies,” refused their presence at the scenes of gaiety offered them by the conquerors of their cities, and occupied themselves instead, in visiting and relieving the sufferings and wants of the wounded soldiers, and encouraged their husbands, sons, or brothers, still to be “rebels,” and die, if it must be so, rather than submit to the British. Nor was this noble patriotism confined only to the South. Mrs. Willard assures us, eloquently, that patriotism glowed in the hearts of women throughout all parts of the country, and that they displayed great activity in collecting materials and making clothes for the soldiers. In Philadelphia, a society for this purpose was formed, at the head of which was Martha Washington, the wife of the commander-in-chief. All this was as it should be, but not more than we have a right to expect from the daughters of a parentage so worthy as was that of many an American. The earth’s best blood was in their veins. The daughters of those pilgrim-mothers who left their native land to establish purer and more Christian homes in the American wilderness, could not so belie their ancestry as to fail in the charities of womanhood.

But we now come to a dark passage, which forms a strong contrast to the patriotism of the above.

The utmost gloom hung over the American affairs in the North. France had once more, it is true, under the influence of La Fayette, who now returned to America, sent over a fleet and a considerable number of troops, to co-operate with the republicans; but nothing as yet had been done. So doubtful indeed did it appear, towards the autumn of 1780, whether the army could even be maintained for another campaign, that Washington was anxious, while he had yet any forces under his command, to strike some decisive blow, and he accordingly proposed to Count de Rochambeau, the French general, who lay with his troops at Newport, to make an attack on New York. In order to concert this proposed plan, Washington went to Hartford, and during his absence a scheme of treason, in the very bosom of the American camp, came to light, which fell like a thunderbolt on the country, and which has so much interesting detail connected with it, that we must be allowed to give it somewhat fully, and in doing so we will principally follow the excellent American historian Hildreth, and the Annual Register of 1781.

In September, a plot was laid for betraying the important fortress of West Point, and other posts of the Highlands, into the hands of the enemy, the traitor being no other than Arnold, the most brilliant officer and one of the most honoured in the American army. Arnold, however, with all his fine qualities as a soldier, was a man of an overbearing and reckless spirit; he had in many cases shown great want of integrity and disregard of the rights of others; nevertheless his valour and his many brilliant achievements had cast his faults into the shade and placed him in command at Philadelphia. There, however, as we have already mentioned, his conduct had given rise to much dissatisfaction. He occupied the best mansion in the city, and lived in so expensive a style as to become involved in debt, to free himself from which he entered into mercantile and privateering speculations. This mode of living and these speculations led to the interference of congress, and the sentence of a reprimand from the commander-in-chief. His debts and moneydifficulties caused him to request, but in vain, a loan from the French minister. The same causes had already led him to open a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, though how this was first commenced, and through whom carried on, is not known. When, however, he was satisfied that the treacherous purpose he had in view would be satisfactorily entered into, and in order to enable him to accomplish it most effectually, he solicited from Washington the command in the Highlands, and Washington, who, spite of Arnold’s faults, had confidence in him, and who was glad to show this after the humiliation he had just laid upon him, placed that important trust in his hands.

The peculiar circumstances of these highland strongholds at this crisis must be borne in mind. The failure of the French fleet with regard to the attack on New York having overthrown all prospects of active operation on the side of the Americans for the present season, Washington stationed his army for the winter in these very posts, on each side of the North River, where, besides security, they had an opportunity of watching the motions of the British and repressing any incursions from New York. In this arrangement, the strong and very important post of West Point, with its neighbouring dependencies and one wing of the army, were intrusted to the custody and conduct of General Arnold.

In order to arrange the terms of the bargain, an interview was necessary with some confidential British agent, and Major André, with whom Arnold had already carried on a correspondence under the feigned names of Gustavus and Anderson, volunteered for this purpose. The outlines of the project were that Arnold should make such a disposition of the wing under his command, as should enable Sir Henry Clinton to surprise their strong posts and batteries, and throw the troops so entirely into his hands that they must inevitably either lay down their arms or be cut to pieces on the spot. Nor was this all; other consequences followed: the remainder of Washington’s army would thus he laid open to the joint attack of the British forces both by land and water, so that nothing would remain for the American cause but slaughter, rout, dispersion and final ruin. Such a blow, it was deemed, would be irrevocable. Independent of the loss of artillery, magazines and stores, such a destruction of their disciplined troops and of their best officers must be immediately fatal.

If a presentiment of woe falls like a great cloud over the sensitive and occult spirit at the approach of evil, we may well understand why the mind of Washington at this moment was overcast by gloom and apprehension. A few hours after he had gone to Hartford, under great depression and anxiety, the necessary steps were taken for the accomplishment of this stratagem of evil. The British sloop-of-war Vulture, with Major André on board, having already ascended the Hudson, and lying now some few miles below King’s Ferry, a boat was sent off by Arnold at nightfall, which brought André on shore and landed him on the west side of the river, just below the American lines, where Arnold was waiting for him. It was morning before the arrangements were completed, and then Arnold persuaded André to enter the American lines and remain secreted all day in the house of one Smith, the person who had brought him on shore. In the meantime the Vulture, having attracted the notice of the American gunners, had found it necessary to change her position, and probably from the dread of discovery, though the true cause has never been really known, Smith refused to take André back to the ship at night as he had engaged to do.

On the second day, therefore, towards sunset, laying aside his uniform, which he had till now worn under a plain surtout, assuming an ordinary dress, and being furnished with a pass from Arnold, in the name of John Anderson, he set out on horseback, with Smith for a guide, and having passed through a remote part of the camp, and all the guards and posts, in safety, they crossed King’s Ferry and spent the night with an acquaintance of Smith’s. The next morning, the guide having conducted him safely across Croton River, left him to pursue the rest of his journey alone. He had now to pass through a district some thirty miles above the Island of New York, known as “neutral ground,” a populous and fertile region, infested by bands of plunderers, called “Cow-Boys and Skinners.” The “Cow-Boys” lived within the British lines, and bought or stole cattle for the supply of the British army. The rendezvous of the “Skinners” was within the American lines. They professed to be great patriots, making it their ostensible business to plunder all who refused to take the oath of allegiance to the State of New York. But they were ready in fact to rob anybody, and the cattle thus obtained were often sold to the “Cow-boys,” in exchange for dry goods brought from New York. By a state law, all cattle driven towards the city beyond a certain line were lawful plunder, and a general authority was given to arrest suspicious travellers.[[34]]

In passing through a place called Tarrytown, André was stopped by three young men, John Paulding, David Williams and Isaac van Wert, on the look-out for cattle or travellers. His passport at first seemed to satisfy them, and they allowed him to proceed. He had not, however, gone many yards, when one of them on recollection was so forcibly struck by some peculiarity in the stranger’s manner or countenance, that he peremptorily insisted on returning with his companions, and examining more strictly. This second thought on his part was fatal to André. André, not used to, or not prepared for such an encounter—or, as he himself said in his letter to Washington, too little versed in deception to practise it with any degree of success—offered his captors a considerable purse of gold, a valuable watch, or anything which they might name, if they would suffer him to proceed to New York.

His offers were rejected; he was searched, suspicious papers were found in his boots, and he was carried before Colonel Jamison, the commanding officer on the lines. The papers found upon André, who still maintained the name of Anderson, a supposed inhabitant of New York, were found to contain precise accounts of the state of the forces, ordnance and defences of West Point and its dependences, with the artillery orders, critical remarks on the works, the amount of men on duty each day, together with interesting particulars, which had been laid before a council of war by the commander-in-chief. Although these papers were in the handwriting of Arnold, Jamison, unable to believe that his commanding officer was a traitor, forwarded them by express to Washington at Hartford, and sent the prisoner to Arnold, informing him of his assumed name, his passport, and that papers of a very suspicious character had been found upon him. Circumstances favoured Arnold in various ways. Major Talmadge, who had been absent, returning at this moment, retained André, though the letter went forward to Arnold, and the express, with the papers themselves, sent to Washington, missed him on the road, he being then on his return to Hartford. Washington’s aides-de-camp, who preceded him, were breakfasting with Arnold when Jamison’s letter arrived. Pretending that it was an immediate call to visit one of the forts on the other side of the river, Arnold rose from table, called his wife up stairs, told her sufficient to throw her into a fainting-fit, mounted a ready-saddled horse, rode to the river-side, threw himself into a barge, passed the forts, waving a handkerchief by way of flag, and ordered his boatmen to row for the Vulture. Safe on board, he wrote a letter to Washington, declaring that the love of his country had been the ruling principle of his life; but the main purpose of the letter was to ask protection for his wife, whom he declared innocent of what he had done.[[35]]

When André found that Arnold had escaped, and that no means of delivery remained for himself, he wrote a letter to Washington, avowing his name and character. The imputation of treachery and the dread of appearing in the base light of a spy, appeared worse to him than death. Strange, that a noble nature, such as André’s unquestionably was, had not perceived from the first that the whole transaction was base, and that he was the tool of a second Judas. The burden and shame, however, of the consequences of his act bowed him down to the very dust, and he now besought of Washington that to whatever fate a rigorous policy might doom him, a decency of treatment might be observed which should testify that, though unfortunate, he was branded with nothing dishonourable, and that he was involuntarily an imposter. André was examined before a board of officers, and upon the very story which he himself told he was pronounced a spy, and as such was doomed to speedy death.

Sir Henry Clinton used the utmost efforts to save him, but the manly and frank behaviour of André, and the amiable character which he bore, pleaded for him more than all these, or than the letter which Arnold wrote to Washington on the same subject, threatening the severest retaliation if the life of André were taken. The public heart sympathised with him, but martial justice demanded his life, and his last prayer that he might be shot rather than hanged was denied. And it was right so far, that if it be justifiable to take human life, and this were a crime of which death was the penalty, the quality of the offender should make no difference; on the contrary, perhaps, even in proportion as his nature was pure and generous, so could there be the less excuse to him of a dull perception between a base and a noble action; and the intended treachery of Arnold was base in the extreme.

The day after the sentence was passed, Oct. 2nd, it was carried into execution, and the dignity and composure of the criminal is said to have excited the utmost admiration, while it melted all hearts. The sympathy which André excited in the American army, says the British chronicler of this event, is perhaps unexampled under any circumstances. It was said that the whole board of general officers shed tears at the drawing-up and signing the report, and that even Washington wept upon hearing the circumstances of his death. All those about him treated him with the most marked attention, with the greatest kindness and the most scrupulous delicacy.

There is a touching pathos in the whole sad history, and a calm dignity in the behaviour of all parties, the offender and the offended, which elevate humanity and are deeply affecting to contemplate. Nor as regarded Arnold, the willing Judas of American liberty, was this noble Christian dignity compromised. Washington sent Mrs. Arnold to her husband at New York, who was himself obliged to confess his obligation to the commander-in-chief for the kindness and protection which she had received from him, as well as the many obligations she was under to the gentlemen of his family. The clothes and baggage which he had sent for were likewise forwarded to him, but as regarded all other matters, his letters and himself were passed over without the smallest notice.[[36]] Somewhat later, however, when he had published an address to the inhabitants of America, calling upon them to “surrender to Great Britain, and to be no longer the tools and dupes of congress and France,” his name was publicly placed by the executive power of Pennsylvania at the head of a list of ten traitors, who were summoned to surrender by a given day, or to be subjected to all the pains, penalties and forfeitures of high-treason. Beyond that, Arnold was dead to the country; the magnitude of his offence placed him below her recognition. For himself he received £10,000, and was made a brigadier-general in the British army. He was also authorised to raise a corps of cavalry and infantry among the disaffected, who were to be clothed and fed like the other troops in the British service, and to whom a bounty of three guineas per man was given, besides payment at full value for horses, arms and accoutrements. All these being intended as strong baits in opposition to the distress, want of pay, hunger and nakedness of the republican army.

As regarded the treachery of Arnold, Washington took immediate measures to protect his camp and works from its consequences; but it did not appear that he had any party in the army; no defection followed, and the example tended probably rather as a warning than otherwise.

During these events in the north, the two hostile parties in the south had not been inactive. General Gates, who had not sustained in South Carolina the reputation which he gained by the surrender of Burgoyne, was superseded by General Greene. Both Lee and Steuben were ordered to the south, as well as Kosciusko, who acted as engineer.

In September, Cornwallis detached Colonel Ferguson to the frontiers of North Carolina, for the purpose of encouraging the loyalists to take arms. A large number of the most profligate and abandoned repaired to his standard, and under the conduct of their leader committed atrocious excesses. This roused the country; the militia were out; and a force of mounted backwoodsmen, armed with rifles and their provision at their backs, led by Shelby and Sevier, afterwards first governors of Kentucky and Tennessee, and joined by various partisan corps, marched against Ferguson, who was advancing towards the mountains. On the first tidings of this formidable force Ferguson fled, pursued by 1,000 of the best mounted and surest marksmen out of double that number; and so rapid was the flight and the pursuit, that in thirty-six hours the mountaineer-backwoodsmen dismounted but once. Ferguson, finding escape impossible, chose a strong position at King’s Mountain, on the Catawbee River, the boundary line between North and South Carolina. The attack was furious and the defence exceedingly obstinate; but, at length, Ferguson being slain, and 300 of his followers killed or wounded, the survivors, to the number of 800, threw down their arms and surrendered. Ten of the most obnoxious of these were immediately hanged as traitors, an outrage which was soon richly retaliated. After this the backwoodsmen retired as rapidly to their homes, and their victory, when trumpeted abroad, raised the sinking spirit of the South.[[37]]

Again Marion and Sumter were in the field, and the ubiquitous Tarleton, with his rapid cavalry, was despatched first against one and then the other. Marion was driven back to his swamps; and Sumter, having joined with other partisan corps in an attack on Fort Ninety-Six, defeated and took prisoner Major Wemyss, after which, having received intelligence through a deserter that Tarleton and his troop were out in pursuit, he took up a position on Blackstock Hill. Tarleton, after a severe loss, was obliged to retreat, leaving Sumter severely wounded, and in possession of the field. The close of the year was now approaching, and Sumter being conveyed to a place of safety, his followers dispersed.

On December 2nd, Greene joined the American army at Charlotte and assumed command. He found the troops without pay, and their clothing in tatters. There was scarcely a dollar in the military chest, and subsistence was obtained by impressment; nevertheless he entered at once on active operations; determining, however, rather to harass the British army than, in the present weak condition of his troops, to risk a general action. But it was not the army alone which was on the alert. All the scattered settlements of Whigs and Tories were in hostile array, and pursued each other with almost savage fury. The excitable temperament of the South gave to the struggle a more terrible character than it had in the North. Everywhere were small parties under arms, some on one side some on the other, desperately bent on plunder and blood.

At the close of this year England was satisfied with the progress which her arms had made in America; no ground of any consequence was lost in the North, while in the South, Georgia was entirely subdued and the royal government re-established. The possession of Charleston, Augusta, Ninety-Six and Camden, supported by an army in the field, secured entire control over the populous and wealthy parts of South Carolina. North Carolina was full of Tories, impatient to acknowledge the British crown on the arrival of Cornwallis. The three southern states were incapable of helping themselves, and the North, exhausted and penniless, was in no condition to help them. The colonies seemed almost sinking under the accumulated pressure of this long-protracted struggle. England, in the meantime, assailed by three European nations, and sustaining a war against two hemispheres, America and the East Indies, was putting forth energies and voting supplies on the most immense scale, as if the very demand increased her powers of exertion. The siege of Gibraltar, under its commander Elliot, was going on; great battles were fought on the West Indian and European seas; fleets and armies went to the East and to the West, and the new year commenced with preparations in all these various and remote scenes of action for new enterprise, for new effort.

As regarded America herself, France, in addition to the troops under Rochambeau, sent out a large fleet at the commencement of this year, under the Count de Grasse, which, after having performed certain service in the West Indies, was to co-operate with Rochambeau and Washington on the coast of America.

The state of affairs, however, was most anxious and critical, and calculated to create the most serious alarm. Although the efforts made during the past year, and the late successes in the South, had revived the public spirit, still no sufficient or permanent means had been provided for supplying the increasing wants of the army. The country seemed upon the brink of ruin. Nor can any situation be imagined more painful than that of the American congress at this moment. The enemy had advanced into the heart of the country; they had important militia operations to carry forward, but were wholly without money. Their bills of credit had so completely lost their value, that they had ceased to be a legal tender, and were not received even in payment of taxes. In this emergency their agents, as already had been done, were directed to borrow from France, Spain, and Holland. They resorted to the unpopular measure of taxation, the tax being apportioned among the several state governments, by whose authority it was collected; and in order as much as possible to introduce economy and to prevent disorder, waste, or peculation, they appointed Robert Morris of Philadelphia as their treasurer, a man whose pure morals, ardent patriotism, and great knowledge of financial concerns, eminently fitted him for this important station.

The zeal and genius of Morris soon produced the best results. A national bank was established, wealthy individuals were induced to deposit here their funds, and by borrowing in the name of government from this bank, and pledging in return the taxes not yet collected, he was enabled to anticipate them, and command a supply. He also made use of his own credit, which was good, and bills were in circulation at one time, bearing his signature, to the amount of £100,000. Franklin also obtained a loan of 4,000,000 of livres from the court of France, which likewise gave its guarantee to Holland for a loan of 10,000,000. Spain refused to lend money unless she received a monopoly of the navigation of the Mississippi, which was steadily refused.[[38]]

So far a better prospect dawned, but before the effects were perceived to any extent, an alarming revolt took place among both the Pennsylvanian and the New Jersey troops, the causes of which were the exact terms of their enlistment, and the want of necessaries. The Pennsylvanian troops, to the number of 1,300, abandoning their camp, commenced their march to Princetown, where congress was sitting, that they might lay their grievances before it. On their way they were met by emissaries from Sir Henry Clinton, who wished to entice them into the British service; but indignant at this attempt to corrupt their fidelity, they seized their tempters and gave them up to General Wayne to be punished as spies. At Princetown they were met by a committee from congress, which, fearing the effect of this revolt at this moment, relieved their necessities in part, and allowed such as claimed their discharge on a three years’ service, to leave the ranks, which most of them did. To their credit, however, be it said, that when offered a reward for apprehending the British emissaries, they nobly refused it, saying, they wanted no reward for doing their duty to their country against her enemies. The revolters in New Jersey did not, however, come off so well. Washington, determined to put a stop to further insubordination, despatched at once a force on which he could rely, from West Point, under Colonel Howe, which suddenly surrounding the camp of the insurgents, compelled them to submission, and two of their leaders being tried by court-martial and shot, there was no more revolt in the army.

In October of this year, General Leslie sailed from New York, with 3,000 men, to reinforce Lord Cornwallis, and lay for some time at Portsmouth on the Chesapeake, to be in readiness against North Carolina. On the news, however, of Ferguson’s defeat, he proceeded to Charleston, and shortly after—in fact, at the very commencement of 1781—Sir Henry Clinton despatched the traitor, now Brigadier-General Arnold, to occupy Portsmouth and to make a diversion in Virginia, not doubting but that the force of his name and character would attract great numbers to the British standard. The force under Arnold amounted to about 1,700, most of them loyalists, a small corps of 200 having been raised in New York by Arnold himself, together with a considerable number of armed vessels. Arriving in the Chesapeake, and leaving a sufficient force at Portsmouth, Arnold ascended the James River, and commenced a series of ravages on the unprotected settlements. Governor Jefferson called out the militia, but the white population were so scanty and scattered on their distant plantations, and were so much occupied in keeping their slaves in order, that the call was hardly obeyed, 200 only appearing for the defence of Richmond, the capital.

Arnold entered without opposition, and immediately commenced to destroy the public stores, as well as many public and private buildings, after which he retired to Portsmouth, which he fortified and made his head-quarters. A plan in the meantime was formed by Washington to capture him and his army. La Fayette was sent down into Virginia, and at the earnest request of Washington, the French fleet stationed at Rhode Island, with a number of French troops on board, sailed to co-operate with him. The British, however, being apprised of this project, Admiral Arbuthnot sailed from Gardiner’s Bay in Long Island, where he had lain with his squadron all the winter, attacked the French fleet off the capes of Chesapeake, and compelled it to return to Rhode Island. The British squadron entered the Chesapeake, and shortly after, a reinforcement of 2,000 men being sent from New York to Portsmouth, Arnold, happily for himself, was delivered from the imminent peril which had threatened him of falling into the hands of his countrymen. The British frigates ascending the rivers of Virginia, levied contributions upon all the tide-water counties. One of these vessels entering the Potomac, reached Mount Vernon, the home and plantation of Washington, whose manager, to save the buildings from destruction, supplied a quantity of provisions, greatly to the displeasure of the American commander-in-chief when he heard of the fact.[[39]]

CHAPTER XI.
THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR (continued), 1781.

With the commencement of the year all parties in the South prepared for war. On the 1st of January, Lord Cornwallis left his camp at Winnsborough, intending to advance into North Carolina and interpose between Greene and Morgan, who were now actively on the alert, and against the latter of whom Tarleton had been despatched, with orders to “push him to the utmost.” Greene, at the head of 1,000 men, was encamped at the confluence of Hick’s Creek with the Peedee, while Morgan, with the same number, had been sent westward by him to guard the passes of the Pacolet river. On Tarleton’s approach Morgan retreated; Tarleton crossed the river, and the pursuit began. The situation of Morgan was perilous, the enemy was behind him, the Broad River before him, to cross which was impossible. But Morgan, the stout quondam wrestler and teamsman, was not easily daunted; on his right lay a hilly district which might afford him protection; choosing, therefore, his ground hastily, he drew up his men in order of battle, at a place called the Cowpens, about three miles south of the boundary of South Carolina. The forces were about equal. Tarleton was confident of victory; Morgan also intended that the day should be his; about half of his troops, however, were South Carolina militia, under General Pickens, new to war, and therefore little to be relied upon. These he placed in the van, while the continentals, on whom he could depend, were posted in an open wood, and the cavalry on a slope in the rear. As he expected, the militia gave way immediately before the impetuous attack of Tarleton; the British troops shouted for victory, and rushed forward in pursuit, but then the real struggle of the fight commenced. The continentals, too, had retrograded for a moment before the rapid advance of the British, who, mistaking this for retreat, rushed forward in some confusion, and the next moment a deadly fire from the Americans, who had suddenly faced about, turned the British pursuit into flight; and while these rapid movements had been taking place, the American cavalry coming up decided the fortune of the day. The ground was in an instant, as it were, covered with killed and wounded. Tarleton’s whole force was completely routed. The British lost 400 in killed and wounded, while 500 prisoners, with a large quantity of baggage, and 100 dragoon horses, fell into the hands of the Americans, whose loss was less than eighty men.

Immediately on the news of this unexpected disaster, Lord Cornwallis, then on the left bank of the Broad River, despatched a part of his army, disencumbered of baggage, in the hope of intercepting Morgan before he could pass that river, and recovering, at least, the prisoners; but Morgan, ever active, and aware of his probable danger, pushed on without loss of time for the fords of the river, which he was fortunately able to cross two hours before the van of the enemy appeared on the opposite bank, and by that time a sudden rise of the river had rendered it impassable.

Disappointed, therefore, in this design, and knowing that the loss of the light troops could only be remedied by the general activity of the whole army, Lord Cornwallis spent two days in burning all superfluous baggage and stores, himself setting the example by destroying every unnecessary article or luxury which belonged to himself. Upon this principle all the wagons, excepting those loaded with hospital stores, salt, or ammunition, and four empty ones reserved for the sick or wounded, were destroyed; all casks of spirituous liquors or wine were staved, and the only supply of flour they could depend upon was the pittance they might obtain and carry along with them.

The heavy rains which had been so serviceable to Morgan in preventing the further progress of the enemy continued for two days, and all the fords for forty miles were not only impassible from the accession of the waters, but vigilantly guarded by American detachments; and Greene himself, on receiving intelligence of the battle of the Cowpens, hastened forward from the Peedee, and assumed in person the command of Morgan’s division, being now desirous of keeping the enemy on the other side of the river until the whole force arrived.

On the first falling of the water, Lord Cornwallis, who had in the meantime come up, detached a party of the army to attack a private ford which was held by 300 Americans, and of which they succeeded in forcing a passage. Again the American army retreated, and again the British were in pursuit, and a second time came very close upon their rear as they were about to cross the Yadkin, as the Peedee is called in its upper course. Again the American army crossed safely, and only a small portion of their baggage remained on the other side, when the British came in sight, and a smart skirmish took place between the advance and rear guards. But again the river rose, and the pursuers were unable to cross. The hand of Providence seemed extended as of old to open for his people a path through the waters, which he closed again to their enemies. So it appeared to the Americans safe on the other side, and so it was regarded throughout the country.

From the Yadkin, Greene proceeded to Guildford Court-house, having effected a junction with his main army, which, under General Huger, had advanced up the left bank of the river, and continued his flight, still vigorously pursued by Cornwallis, who was anxious to prevent his entering Virginia, whence alone supplies and recruits could be expected. It was now for the third time a trial of speed between the two armies, and for the third time also the British reached the banks of the river Dan, an upper branch of the Roanoke, just as the American rear were safely across. Here Cornwallis, mortified at such repeated disappointments after the extraordinary efforts which he had made, gave up the pursuit and turned slowly towards the South. It was well that he did so, for the American army needed repose; the march of the last day had been forty miles; the shoes were worn from the soldiers’ feet, many were quite barefoot, and this long and hasty flight was tracked with their blood.[[40]]

The American army thus driven out of North Carolina, Lord Cornwallis, after giving his troops a day’s rest, led them slowly back to Hillsborough, the seat of the state government, where he erected the royal standard, and issued a proclamation inviting all loyal subjects to repair to him and aid in restoring the constitutional government to the colony. We have mentioned the sufferings of the American army—those of the British were not much less. “The wants and distresses of the English troops,” says the British chronicler of these events, “were only equalled by their toils and fatigues. They traversed a country which was alternately a wild and inhospitable forest, or inhabited by a people who were, at least, highly adverse, however they might venture or not to be hostile. When to these are added all the possible incommodities incident to bad roads, heavy rains, want of cover, and the continual wading through numberless deep creeks and rivers in the depth of winter, some idea may be formed of their sufferings.”

While these events were going forward, and the state authorities having fled from Hillsborough to Newbern, a British detachment from Wilmington marched to that place, entered it without impediment, burned the shipping, and having destroyed all the salt, sugar, rum, and stores of every kind, returned to Wilmington.

In response to the proclamation of Lord Cornwallis, the Tories of North Carolina began to embody themselves, and on February 21st, Tarleton was despatched into the district between the Haw and Deep rivers to assist in their organisation. In the meantime, General Greene, reinforced by a body of Virginians, re-entered North Carolina, and hearing of this movement among the Tories, sent Colonel Lee, with a body of militia, to prevent it. On his way Lee encountered the newly-embodied loyalist troops, with whom Tarleton had not yet come up, and they mistaking these troops for those of their friends, eagerly made known their loyalty by shouts of “Long live the King!” when being at once surrounded by the Americans, the greater number were cut to pieces, and the remainder made prisoners.

Greene, though still receiving reinforcements, did not consider himself as yet strong enough to encounter an engagement; and in order to avoid surprise, took up a new position every night, never informing any person the day before where his next encampment would be. Indeed, the strict reserve which this commander maintained regarding his plans caused the utmost embarrassment to the British throughout the whole southern campaign. The prisoners taken on any occasion from the American army would give no account of the numbers and disposition of the troops, nor yet of the ground where they lay. Lord Cornwallis complains repeatedly, that “either from stupidity or design the country people would give him no information, or if they did, it was unintelligible or contradictory; the little reliance to be placed on any information which was obtained being among the distinguishing features of the war in this province.”

Lord Cornwallis moved from point to point, anxious to cover the country and afford the loyalists encouragement and opportunity to join his army, and at the same time to keep open the communication of Cape Fear River, which the “grievous distresses” of his army rendered necessary. At length, towards the middle of March, Greene’s forces, now amounting to about 4,500 men, and being at a great distance from his supplies, and in the midst of a country where his friends were few and wavering, he, too, sought a battle in his turn. For many days Cornwallis had been harassed by uncertain rumours as to the course of his enemy, when, on the 15th, he received the authentic intelligence that Greene had reached Guilford, twelve miles only from the British camp, and that a battle might be expected.

The country in which the two armies were to meet was a wilderness covered with tall wood, and a thick undergrowth of shrubs, with here and there a clearing. Greene, having left his baggage seventeen miles in the rear, posted his men on advantageous ground on a wooded hill with an open field in front, about two miles from Guilford Court-house. The North Carolina militia, many of them compelled to serve as a punishment for their suspected loyalty, were posted in the front. At the first charge these militia fled, throwing away their arms and knapsacks; the Virginian militia, however, stood firm and fought resolutely for a considerable time, when, being driven back, the action became general; but owing to the nature of the ground the order of battle was completely broken, and consisted rather of a series of irregular, hard-fought and bloody skirmishes. At length the Americans were driven back, and their artillery captured, when Greene ordered a retreat, which was made without confusion, and the same night he reached the Iron Works of Troublesome Creek, at eighteen miles’ distance.

The loss on both sides was said to be between 400 and 500; and as the fighting had extended over a great space of ground, the wounded were scattered as widely. “There were neither houses nor tents to receive them,” says Hildreth. “The night that followed the battle was dark and tempestuous; horrid shrieks resounded through the woods; many expired before the morning.”

The Americans were routed, but the British were in no condition to follow them; the troops in the first instance were worn down by the excessive fatigues of a long march; their wounded, which lay so wide and so ill provided for, required attention; and besides, such was the desolate state of the country, that during the two days they remained here they had no bread, nor was forage to be obtained nearer than nine miles; and though the victory was gained in a part of the country which boasted of its loyalty, very little assistance was given, nor did any great number join the royal cause. Leaving, therefore, seventy of the worst wounded behind him, in a Quakers’ meeting-house converted into a hospital, Lord Cornwallis retired by easy marches to Cross Creek, now Fayetteville, again issuing a proclamation, and using all means in his power to encourage and call forth the loyalists of the district, but with little effect. He was disappointed also in the store of provisions which he expected to have found here; the absolute scarcity compelled him still to advance; and after a toilsome circuitous march of 200 miles, the victors, who according to their own phrase, “had gained so much glory at Guilford,” reached Wilmington worn out and famished, and thankful to find at length shelter and rest.

Though Greene did not fare much better as regarded the subsistence of his army, no sooner had Cornwallis retired towards Wilmington, than he determined to march into South Carolina, now held in subjection by Lord Rawdon and a small force. Early in April, therefore, Greene was advancing through that barren region in which Gates and his troops had suffered so much eleven months before, towards Camden, where Lord Rawdon lay with about 900 loyalists. Despatching Colonel Lee with his cavalry to join Marion and other partisan corps immediately on his entering South Carolina, Greene took up his position at Hobkirk’s Mill, about two miles from Camden, and on April 25th a battle took place, the victory at first strongly inclining to the Americans. A Maryland regiment, however, falling into confusion, a rout ensued, but the loss was about equal on both sides; and in consequence of the American artillery having been run down a steep hill among some brushwood, it was overlooked by the British troops in their pursuit, and the American cavalry carried it safely away before their return. Greene retired the same night to Rugeley’s Mills, about twelve miles off, where he encamped.

The news of Greene’s bold advance into South Carolina reached Lord Cornwallis at Wilmington, too late for him to march to the succour of Lord Rawdon; he, therefore, imitating the American general’s policy, marched at once into Virginia, to join the British force under Arnold and Philips, which was committing great ravages there.

Although the British had defeated the Americans in the last engagement, this victory no more than the former produced any favourable results to the British cause. Already before this battle was fought, Fort Watson, on the Santee River, and one of the lines of communication between Camden and Charleston, had surrendered to Lee and Marion; the whole country was in arms, and Colonel Watson on his way to reinforce Lord Rawdon, was in consequence obliged to pass and repass the Santee, going down almost to the very mouth of the river for the first, and up to the confluence of that river with the Congaree for the second, before he was able to reach Camden, where he had long been anxiously expected. But with his arrival came the intelligence that Fort Motte, situated at the junction of the Congaree and Santee, was invested by Lee and Marion. This being the case, Lord Rawdon, now reinforced, withdrew to Nelson’s Ferry, sixty miles from Camden, having first made a vain attempt to draw General Greene into another engagement. On the 9th of May he abandoned Camden, having destroyed all the works, and leaving behind him such sick and wounded as were unable to bear the removal, and on the 13th arrived at Nelson’s Ferry, the unwelcome news having reached him by the way of the surrender of Fort Motte. This was a heavy loss, for at this place were deposited all the provisions that were intended for the supply of Camden. More bad news followed: Sumter took another strong post at Orangeburg, and Fort Granby surrendered to Lee, who was then sent against Augusta. Scarcely had these tidings been received than Colonel Balfour, the commandant of Charleston, made his appearance, full of apprehensions regarding the state of affairs there, and the alarming turn which they had taken in so short a time. So little, indeed, had this been expected, that the whole fortifications of the town had been removed, and the new were not yet completed; and so strong was his belief in the general disaffection of the people, that if any misfortune happened to Lord Rawdon’s forces, the loss of the province and capital might be anticipated. As a proof of the disaffection of the country, it is related by the English that for five days after Lord Rawdon had crossed the Santee, not a single person of any sort whatever came near his camp, nor could the spies and emissaries which he sent out in all directions procure for him any true intelligence as to the situation of the enemy. The enemy, however, was busy all this time, and as we have said, one strong post after another was taken. Alarmed at these ominous proceedings, Lord Rawdon, accompanied by a great number of Tory families, retreated from Nelson’s Ferry to Monk’s Corner, still nearer to Charleston, that he might protect the town and the fertile country which intervened.

The next tidings were that General Greene was investing Ninety-Six, the principal British stronghold in the upper country, which the garrison of American loyalists was very bravely defending. On this, being fortunately just then reinforced by three regiments from Ireland, Lord Rawdon hastened to its relief. It was then the middle of summer, and marching with as much speed as the excessive heat would allow, he had the mortification of learning by the way, that Augusta had surrendered, and that the forces employed in its reduction had now joined Greene.

The Americans were attempting an unsuccessful assault on Ninety-Six, when the unwelcome tidings reached them, that Lord Rawdon, strongly reinforced, was advancing to the relief of that fort. The utmost bravery had been displayed in the attack, the ditch was full of killed and wounded, when Greene determined to abandon the attempt, and not even to face the new foe. He had already, it appeared, anticipated such an event, by sending off all the heavy baggage across the Saluda, whither he now also followed. The British pursued for forty miles, as far as the fords of Ennoree, but finding then that the Americans had crossed safely two hours before, and the troops being spent with fatigue and the excessive heat, Lord Rawdon slowly returned to Ninety-Six, which was then abandoned, and the British army, again accompanied by great numbers of terrified loyalists, retired to Orangeburg, where leaving the greater part of his forces to aid the loyalists in embodying themselves, he marched with the remainder to Congaree, closely pursued by Greene, who hoped to be able to surround him while he waited for promised reinforcements. It happened, however, that Lord Rawdon arrived at Congaree two days sooner than was expected, and finding the enemy so near, and suspecting their intentions, he made a rapid move again towards Orangeburg, and Greene, now joined by Marion, having altered his intentions, retired as suddenly to the hills of the Santee, to refresh his troops and wait for reinforcements.

The summer in the South closed the campaign. The sufferings of the British in this climate were excessive. During renewed forced marches, under the rage of a burning sun, they were frequently, when sinking under the extremest fatigue, not only destitute of every comfort, but almost of every necessary. They were for the greater part destitute of bread, and the country afforded no vegetables as a substitute—salt too failed them, at length, and their only resource was water and the wild cattle found in the woods. About fifty men in this last expedition sunk under the rigour of their exertions and died of sheer fatigue. Nor did the Americans suffer less. Twice they had been defeated in two pitched battles; yet upon the whole the campaign terminated in their favour. The greater part of Georgia was recovered, as were also the two Carolinas; the British being now limited to the district between the Santee and the Lower Savannah.

Although operations between the main armies were suspended during the hot and unhealthy season, the partisan corps on both sides were actively employed. This it was which added such additional horrors to the war in the South. Houses were plundered and burned and their inhabitants murdered, women and children seldom being spared. One great object of plunder was slaves. Sumter paid his men in this manner. The number of slaves carried off during the war is estimated at 30,000. Lord Dunmore, at the commencement of the struggle, armed the slaves against their masters; and had the British persevered in this plan, and, treating the slaves as men and king’s subjects, converted them into soldiers, the conquest of the Southern States would have been almost inevitable.[[41]]

Lord Rawdon soon after returned to England, in consequence of ill health, and the command devolved upon Colonel Stuart. Before his departure from Charleston, however, a tragical circumstance occurred there which greatly irritated the Carolinians and threw great odium upon the British. This was the execution of Colonel Isaac Hayne, a firm patriot, who, at the commencement of the war, had entered with ardour into the republican struggle and assisted in person at the defence of Charleston. On the surrender of the city, having been offered British protection or rigorous confinement, he was weak enough to choose the former, it being urged in his excuse, that his wife and children were ill of the small-pox, and this was his only alternative to avoid being separated from them. When the British were driven from his neighbourhood, he took up arms against them, and in this condition was taken prisoner and brought before Colonel Balfour, the commandant of the place, who condemned him to death. Every effort was used to save his life; General Greene avowed his determination to retaliate; the loyalists, with the governor at their head, and the most distinguished women of Charleston, begged for his life, as did his little children, dressed in deep mourning. But in vain; Lord Rawdon reluctantly gave his consent to the execution, which accordingly took place, causing a universal execration.

While these events had been occurring in the Carolinas, General Phillips and the traitor Arnold were carrying everything before them in Virginia, and successively defeated such bodies of militia as could be suddenly brought into the field, while their best troops were fighting the battles of others in the Carolinas[[42]]. After having fortified Portsmouth at the mouth of the James River, and thus secured a place of retreat, Phillips advanced up that river, which, with its numerous dependent branches and creeks, laid the whole central country on either hand open to him. On the Appomatox, a confluent of James River, he took Petersburg, where he destroyed 4,000 hogsheads of tobacco, collected there for shipment to France. Besides this, shipping and vessels of all kinds, on the stocks and in the river, public buildings and warehouses, with their contents of timber, provisions and all other stores, were destroyed; after which, Arnold advancing up the river where a considerable fleet of vessels had taken refuge, the greater number were burned or scuttled to prevent their falling into his hands. From Petersburg the enemy proceeded to Manchester, just opposite Richmond, where they destroyed nearly 2,000 hogsheads of tobacco; La Fayette, who had just arrived there with a detachment of New England troops, and to whose presence Richmond owed its temporary safety, having the mortification of witnessing the conflagration from the opposite shore. Havoc and devastation marked the career of these ruthless invaders, who, after collecting an immense booty in tobacco and slaves, and having destroyed ships, warehouses and mills, everything, in short, which came in their way and was of value to the inhabitants, returned to their shipping and fell down the river towards its mouth.

As regarded the force collected for the defence of Virginia, it was totally inadequate to the necessities of the province. The entire force of the Virginia line now under arms did not exceed 1,000 men, and were at this time absent serving under Greene; about 500 recruits, unarmed and unclothed, whom Steuben was vainly endeavouring to equip, were at Richmond. The only effective force were drafts of the New England regiments, under La Fayette, who, little inclined to serve in this unhealthy climate, were only kept together by his threats to shoot deserters, and by winning their fidelity through their gratitude, inasmuch as, on his own credit, he supplied them with hats, shoes and blankets, of which they were in grievous need.

We have already said that Lord Cornwallis, informed of the unfortunate turn which the British affairs had taken in South Carolina, resolved, although his own force was reduced, to hardly more than 1,000 effective men, to march to Virginia and effect a junction with General Phillips. Again the British commander complained bitterly of the sufferings and destitute condition of his troops. Neither cavalry nor infantry, he said, were fit to move, yet they must commence on the morrow a march of several hundred miles, through a country chiefly hostile, frequently desert, which did not afford one active or useful friend, where no intelligence was to be obtained, and where no communication could be established.[[43]]

The march, however, was made through all these difficulties and impediments; and on the 25th of April, about a month after he had set out, he reached Petersburg, where he found the troops of General Phillips, who himself had died only a few days previously, and shortly after was reinforced also by four regiments sent from New York. On the approach of Cornwallis, La Fayette, having removed the most valuable stores from Richmond, abandoned that town and retired towards the north-west, to form a junction with General Wayne, who was now on his march with 1,000 of the Pennsylvanian levies to join the southern army. The assembly of Virginia, on the abandonment of Richmond, adjourned to Charlottesville, and increased powers, suitable to the emergency, were conferred upon Governor Jefferson. The prisoners under Burgoyne’s capitulation, who had been living for the last two years in this neighbourhood in great comfort, in their huts amid their gardens, were now also suddenly removed across the mountains to Winchester.

In this central province all the scattered operations of active hostility converged, as it were, to a point. Cornwallis pursued La Fayette for thirty miles, in hopes of preventing his union with General Wayne, but being disappointed in this object, overran the country for sixty miles on the borders of the James River, and destroyed a vast amount of both public and private property; among the former the Virginian laboratory and armoury, in which a large quantity of arms, ammunition, and other stores, greatly needed by the Virginian army, were consumed. Whilst this devastation was going on in one direction, Tarleton was sent to make a dash at the Virginian assembly at Charlottesville and to carry off Jefferson. On his way he met twelve wagons laden with clothing and stores for Greene’s army, all of which he destroyed; he succeeded also in capturing seven members of assembly, but Jefferson, who had been warned of his danger, escaped.[[44]]

Lord Cornwallis, on the return of the detachments, having received orders from Sir Henry Clinton, who was apprehensive that Washington was about to attack New York with the aid of the French fleet, removed his army, towards the end of June, from Richmond to Williamsburg, considerably nearer the sea, and about midway between the great rivers James and York, destroying, as was customary, whatever property lay in his way. La Fayette having now joined Wayne, and being still further strengthened by Baron Steuben’s troops, as well as by such militia as Virginia herself was able to raise, was in so powerful a condition as to render any movements of the British a matter of great caution; nevertheless Cornwallis was active, and his cavalry, mounted on the very horses which the planters had refused to Greene, and which the British had now seized, scoured the country, carrying terror into all quarters.

From Williamsburg, Cornwallis proceeded to Portsmouth, which it was strongly recommended, both in England and by Sir Henry Clinton, should be occupied as a permanent position convenient for naval operations, and for such warfare as, while it was defensive on their part, would be extremely distressing to Virginia. On his way thither, and when just about to cross James River, Cornwallis was attacked, in the afternoon of July 6th, by La Fayette, who erroneously supposed that a portion of the army had crossed the river. General Wayne, who led the advance, seeing on the contrary the whole British army drawn out against him, made an impetuous attack and then suddenly retreated, leaving his cannon behind. The darkness of evening coming on, and Cornwallis suspecting an ambuscade, no pursuit followed, and the British crossed the river in the night.

Arrived at Portsmouth, Cornwallis, on personal examination, not deeming it suitable for the intended purpose, and conceiving that nothing less than offensive war would be effectual in Virginia, selected, in preference, the two posts of York Town, on the river of that name, and Gloucester Point on the opposite side, which he immediately commenced fortifying, his force amounting in the whole to about 7,000.

“The Southern States were very anxious for the personal presence of Washington, but he believed that the South might be most effectually served by striking some decisive blow at New York. The means, however, for such a blow were not so obvious. The superiority of the British naval force still kept the French army idle in Rhode Island. The Southern States, invaded and overrun, were hardly able to defend themselves; while the Eastern States, hitherto so sturdy, seemed now almost exhausted. Recruits for the army came in very slowly. The New York regiments had been detached to defend that state from Tory and Indian invasion. The Pennsylvanian line, and even some drafts from the eastern regiments, had been sent to Virginia. Late in the spring the entire force under Washington’s immediate command fell short of 7,000 men, not equal to the number of loyalists employed at that time in the British service. It was with the utmost difficulty that even this small force was fed. To obtain a supply of provisions, Washington was obliged to send Heath to the Eastern States with a circular-letter and pressing representations.”[[45]]

Washington’s letter obtained some supplies from New England, and Pennsylvania consented to furnish more, on the credit of taxes just imposed; but impressment, after all, continued to be the principal means for feeding the army, and the only money which could be obtained was by selling bills on Benjamin Franklin, which it was hoped the French court would enable him to meet.

About the same time that Cornwallis entered Virginia, Washington received the welcome intelligence from the French admiral, the Count de Grasse, in the West Indies, that he was about to proceed with a powerful fleet to the American coast, on which the French army, which, had lain idle for eleven months in Rhode Island, marched to join Washington; who, breaking up his camp in July, passed the North River to meet them. Their junction took place at the White Plains, on the New England side of the Hudson, and the combined armies encamped at Philipsburg, within twelve miles of King’s Bridge, sufficiently near New York to excite great alarm. The apparent intention of these great movements was an attack on New York, which became confirmed by an intercepted letter from Washington to the French commander, Rochambeau, in which such an attack was spoken of in undisguised terms. But the intentions of Washington, whatever they might have been in the commencement, soon became very different; nevertheless, the object now was to confirm Sir Henry Clinton’s suspicion, that time might be given to carry out the still more formidable plan, of which no idea appeared to exist in the mind of the British commander. It was under the apprehension of this combined attack that Sir Henry Clinton recalled a considerable part of the troops under Lord Cornwallis, from Virginia, immediately afterwards countermanding his recall, being himself reinforced by the arrival of 3,000 Hessians; the same apprehension also rendered it desirable to occupy some strong position in Virginia.

Now, therefore, in the month of July, New York was kept in a state of perpetual alarm. A body of 5,000 French and American troops, on one occasion, took up a position near King’s Bridge, in the night, which they occupied for forty-eight hours, with every appearance of an intended attack. The two commanders, Washington and Rochambeau, attended by their principal officers and engineers, reconnoitered the island of New York; the report of the expected daily arrival of the Count de Grasse was sedulously propagated, and when the precise time of that admiral’s arrival at the Chesapeake was ascertained, the French troops advanced to Sandy Hook and the coasts opposite Staten Island, as if with a view of seconding the operations of the fleet. So far, indeed, was this deception carried, that ovens were erected near the mouth of the Raritan, on Sandy Hook, as if for the supply of the army.

The intention was very different. The object was to strike a blow at Cornwallis in Virginia. Orders, therefore, were sent to La Fayette to take up such a position as would cut off the retreat of the British army into North Carolina, and on August 19th, Washington crossed the river and marched directly into the Jerseys, to Trenton upon the Delaware, this very movement being considered in the first instance merely to conceal his ultimate intentions. So carefully, indeed, had Washington concealed the object he had in view, that the New England troops were ignorant of their destination, and on arriving at Philadelphia and discovering that they had a long southern march before them, showed such signs of dissatisfaction that it appeared necessary to pacify them by a small payment in specie, which could only be done by borrowing from the French military chest. Fortunately, too, at that moment Laurens had arrived from France with a supply of clothing, arms, and ammunition; so that the troops proceeded in good humour, and better clad than usual.

While Washington was preparing for his operations in the South, Greene, whose ardour was ever unabated, having profited by his temporary retirement, during the unhealthy season, among the hills of the Santee, appeared at the beginning of September once more in the field. His former successes had revived the hopes of the North Carolina Whigs, and it was now determined to make one great effort for his support. Measures were accordingly taken for keeping 2,000 militia in the field; he received a number of horses for the use of his cavalry, together with a fresh supply of arms. Three hundred horses, imported by Jefferson to prevent their falling into the hands of the British, were also sent to him from Virginia.

Thus recruited and reinforced, Greene, being joined also by the partisan corps of Marion, at the commencement of the cool season, marched up the Wateree to Camden, in South Carolina, crossed first that river, then the Congaree, and thus approached the British army, commanded by Colonel Stuart, who had succeeded Lord Rawdon, which retired before him down the Santee to Eutaw Springs, whither Greene pursued them. It was the 8th of September when the two armies, about equal in force, engaged. The British were at first driven back in great confusion, victory strongly inclining to the American side, but rallying again in a favourable post, the British repulsed their assailants with heavy loss. The battle of Eutaw Springs is memorable as being one of the bloodiest and the most valiantly-contested fields of the war, and also for being the last of any consequence at the South. The loss of the British was about 500, with 250 prisoners, that of the Americans about the same.

Both sides, Hildreth tells us, claimed the victory, but all the advantage accrued to the Americans. The British immediately retired to Monk’s Corner, and were thus restricted to the narrow tract between the rivers Ashley and Cooper. Congress, in acknowledgment of Greene’s service in this battle, voted him their thanks and presented him with a conquered standard and a medal struck for the occasion. He, however, was too much exhausted to continue active operations. His troops were barefoot and half naked; he had no hospital stores, hardly even salt, and his ammunition was very low. He retired again to the hills of the Santee.

CHAPTER XII.
CLOSE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.

We now return to Washington, who at length received the long-wished-for intelligence, that De Grasse, with the French fleet, was approaching the Chesapeake. Admiral Rodney, who had been busy in the West Indies, whither De Grasse had also sailed, apprehending that a part of the French fleet would proceed to the American coast, had sent Hood, with fourteen ships of the line, to reinforce Admiral Graves, who commanded on the American station. Hood arrived off the Chesapeake, August 25th, and not finding Graves there as he expected, proceeded to New York, where he learned that Du Barras, who commanded the French squadron at Newport, in Rhode Island, had put to sea three days before, evidently with the design of a junction with the French West India fleet. In the hope of intercepting this junction, Graves sailed with the united English fleet; but had the mortification of discovering on his arrival, September 5th, off the entrance of the Chesapeake, that De Grasse had arrived six days before, and now, with four-and-twenty ships of the line, lay safely at anchor inside Cape Henry.

All the present operations of the combined American and French forces were evidently the result of a well-concerted plan, besides which an extraordinary coincidence occurred in their several movements by sea and land, which was beyond the reach of calculation. We have already seen that Du Barras sailed from Rhode Island on the 25th of August; on the 28th De Grasse arrived with his fleet at the Chesapeake. On the same day the French and American armies reached the Head of Elk, and an hour after their arrival received an express from De Grasse, with the welcome intelligence of his safe anchorage at Cape Henry. This is the more remarkable when we consider the distance of the parties from each other as well as the scene of action, and the difficulties and delays to which all were liable.[[46]] But the run of ill luck which had hitherto attended every combined attempt of the French and Americans appeared now to have changed. All went well with them, as in the rapid winding up of a long story, where the heroes are crowned with especial success as a compensation for past sorrows and sufferings.

Du Barras, however, did not arrive in the Chesapeake for near a fortnight after De Grasse, having put out to sea from fear of being intercepted by the British fleet, which was a very necessary caution, as he had under his charge the transports which conveyed from Rhode Island the heavy ordnance and other necessaries indispensable for the siege of York Town, and upon which the success of the enterprise depended. De Grasse, in the meantime, sent four ships of the line and several frigates to block up James and York rivers, so as to cut off the retreat of Cornwallis, and landed also 3,000 French troops, under the Marquis St. Simon, who had joined La Fayette, then at Williamsburg.

The first intelligence which Admiral Graves received of the French fleet, was the discovery of it, early in the morning of September 5th, lying within the mouth of the Chesapeake. Each enemy was an unwelcome sight to the other, and the French ships immediately stood out to sea. For five days the two fleets manœuvred in sight of each other; a distant cannonade was kept up; but De Grasse had no intention of coming to a close action, his sole object was to keep possession of the Chesapeake, and to cover the arrival of Du Barras with his squadron and convoy from Rhode Island. All this was done so successfully that Du Barras entered the bay without the slightest impediment, on the 10th of September, which was in fact signing the doom of Lord Cornwallis; and the French fleet, no whit the worse, returned to their old anchorage in the Chesapeake; while Graves, who had suffered considerably, having lost two of his ships and been obliged to burn a third, sailed immediately to New York to refit. On the 17th of September, transports began to bring down a portion of the French and American armies from the Head of Elk, while Washington proceeded with the remainder to Annapolis, whence they too were conveyed by the same easy mode to Williamsburg, where all had arrived by the end of the month. Washington and the principal commanders having already had an interview, the plan of operations was agreed upon. Before, however, we proceed to this, we must return to Sir Henry Clinton.

Having at length discovered the true purpose of Washington’s deeply-laid scheme, Sir Henry Clinton attempted to prevent its full accomplishment, by rendering it necessary for that commander to divide his forces. Arnold, therefore, having now returned from Virginia, was immediately despatched on a plundering expedition against Connecticut, of which state he was an unworthy native.

Landing his troops from the shore of Long Island, in the night of the 6th of September, at New London, a resort of privateers and the seat of the West India trade, Arnold advanced up the Thames, at the mouth of which New London is situated, and having taken Fort Trumball, about a mile below the town, New London was plundered and then burned, and a large amount of property destroyed. On the other side of the river was Fort Griswold, which, being strongly garrisoned, was resolutely defended by Colonel Ledyard. At length, however, it was carried by assault, with a loss to the British of 200 men, and the retaliation for this loss was as cowardly as it was bloody. Entering the fort, a British officer inquired who was the commander. “I was,” replied Colonel Ledyard, presenting his sword, “but now you are.” On these words the weapon so surrendered was plunged into the bosom of the late brave commander, and an almost general slaughter followed; forty out of 160 being all that escaped.

Washington, to Clinton’s disappointment, took no notice of this movement, but proceeded calmly with his operations in the South; and these enormities having roused a spirit in Connecticut which Arnold did not dare to encounter, he retreated to New York. The loss which the Americans sustained, besides about a dozen ships which were burnt, was very great. The quantities of naval stores, of European manufactures, and of East and West India goods found here, was almost incredible. Everything on the town-side of the river was destroyed by fire. Nothing was carried off excepting such small articles of spoil as afforded no trouble in the conveyance.[[47]]

The British had taught the Americans much important war-craft during this long struggle; as for instance, in the general orders which Washington gave to his American troops, he charged them to use and depend upon the bayonet, as their best and most essential weapon, in case they should be encountered on the march from Williamsburg, assuring them that they would by that means effectually cure the vanity of the British troops, who attributed to themselves so decided a superiority in that sort of close and trying combat. Nor did he omit any opportunity of exciting that honourable emulation between the allied troops which appeared so conspicuously in the subsequent operations.[[48]]

The combined French and American armies having, by the help of the French transports, formed a junction with La Fayette at Williamsburg, proceeded on the last days of September to invest Lord Cornwallis in York Town. Their whole force amounted to 16,000, 7,000 of whom were French picked men, the very flower of the army. The British force, about 8,000 in number, were chiefly at York Town, which had been made as strong as possible, Cornwallis having abandoned his more distant posts, which had been intended to command the peninsula, as too much exposed to be maintained under present circumstances. These, therefore, were all immediately seized by the combined armies. The post at Gloucester Point, opposite to York Town, was occupied by the famous Tarleton, with both cavalry and infantry, amounting to about 600 men.

On the evening of the 9th of October the batteries were opened against the town, the works of which, even had they been completed, would have been incapable of sustaining such a weight of force; but, as it was, the British troops were as much employed in their construction, amid the fire of the enemy, as in their defence. In a few days most of their guns were dismounted and silenced; their defences in many places broken down. Shells and red-hot ball had reached even the British ships in the harbour, several of which were burned.

In the meantime, Sir Henry Clinton, who had learned the junction of the Rhode Island squadron with the French fleet, from Admiral Graves on his return to New York, and of the peril which threatened Lord Cornwallis, lost no time in refitting and equipping a fleet to aid in extricating him and his army. Accordingly, on the 19th of October, with upwards of 7,000 of his best forces, Sir Henry Clinton set sail on this important service, with twenty-five ships of the line and eight frigates. All felt the greatness of the enterprise; the spirit, it is said, which influenced both officers and common men was full of enthusiasm, all believing that whatever the result might he, they were about to be engaged in one of the most obstinate and bloody naval battles ever fought.

On the 5th of October, Lord Cornwallis received a letter from New York, informing him of the relief that would sail thence for him about that date. But it was a fortnight later before the fleet passed the bar of New York harbour; and in the meantime, while Lord Cornwallis was anxiously expecting relief which never came, events were proceeding rapidly.

The most interesting feature of the siege was the storming of two redoubts, which, standing forward, greatly impeded the progress of the besiegers. It was determined, therefore, to attack these as the darkness of night fell, on the 14th. The attack of the one was committed to the Americans, under Colonel Hamilton, Washington’s aide-de-camp, and the other to the French, the one nation emulating the other in the honour and the duty of the enterprise. Both were successful; both redoubts were taken, when daylight appeared, but the loss of the French was the greater.

So important did Lord Cornwallis consider the taking of these redoubts, that, writing to Sir Henry Clinton the following day, he said that “he considered his situation desperate.” Using, however, all means to procrastinate, he anxiously and impatiently waited for relief from New York; but in vain.

At length, when no relief came, and when, on the 16th, a hundred pieces of heavy ordnance had so ruined the works and overpowered the batteries that the besieged could not show a single gun, and their shells, their sole means of defence, were nearly exhausted, Lord Cornwallis determined, as a last resource before surrendering, to attempt an escape with the greater part of his troops. Accordingly boats were secretly prepared; and abandoning the baggage, the troops during the night were to pass over to Gloucester Point, to cut their way through a French detachment posted in the rear of that place, and by rapid marches to reach New York in safety. The first debarkation had been made towards midnight in safety, when the weather, which had hitherto been moderate, instantly changed, and a violent storm drove the boats down the river. It was impossible to bring back the landed troops; and thus weakened and discouraged, the danger of the army was still further increased.

Means of defence there were none; their hopes of succour were at an end; the troops were diminished and worn out by constant watching and unremitting fatigue.

To avoid, therefore, the useless shedding of blood by an assault, Cornwallis wrote to Washington on the 17th, proposing a suspension of hostilities for twenty-four hours, and that commissioners might be appointed to settle terms of capitulation.

On the 19th, the posts of York Town and Gloucester were surrendered, and the British troops, about 7,000 in number, became prisoners of war to Washington. The ships and naval stores, with 1,500 seamen, were given up to the French. The officers and soldiers retained their baggage, but all visible property was liable to be seized. Washington would not grant any expressly favourable conditions, as Lord Cornwallis wished, on behalf of the loyalists who were under British protection in the town, alleging that theirs were civil offences which did not come under the authority of a military commander. One favour, however, was granted—that Cornwallis should be allowed the use of a ship ostensibly to convey despatches to New York, and which should be allowed to pass unexamined. In this vessel many obnoxious persons escaped.

General Lincoln, who had surrendered his sword to Lord Cornwallis at Charleston, by a sort of poetical justice, was appointed to receive the sword of the British commander on this occasion; and not forgetting what the British had then demanded, the capitulating force was now required to march out of the town with their colours cased.

As regarded the general treatment both of officers and men, nothing, however, could have been nobler. Lord Cornwallis, in his public letter to England, testified to the “kindness and consideration of the enemy.” The kindness and attention shown by the French officers in particular, he says, “have really gone far beyond what I can possibly describe, and will, I hope, make an impression on the breast of every British officer, whenever the fortune of war shall put any of them in our power.”

It is mentioned as a singular circumstance in the events of this surrender that the American commissioner appointed to draw up the terms of capitulation was Colonel Laurens, son of Laurens, late president of congress, who was at that time prisoner in the Tower of London.

On the 24th of October, five days after the fall of York Town, Sir Henry Clinton and the British fleet arrived off the capes of Chesapeake, where they first learned that they had arrived too late, and that Cornwallis had surrendered, on which mortifying intelligence, and unwilling to encounter the superior French fleet, they hastily returned to New York.

Washington would gladly have finished this successful campaign by an attack on Charleston; but the Count de Grasse, fearing to remain on the American coast in the stormy season which was at hand, sailed shortly after for the West Indies. Count Rochambeau cantoned his troops during the winter at Williamsburg. Wayne, with 2,000 Pennsylvanian continentals, marched to reinforce Greene’s army in South Carolina, while the main body of the American army returned to their old positions on the Hudson. The prisoners of Cornwallis’s army were marched over the mountains to Winchester, whence a part of them were sent to Lancaster in Pennsylvania.[[49]]

The surrender of Cornwallis was in effect the end of the war. The British power was now reduced merely to defensive measures, and was confined principally to the cities of New York, Charleston and Savannah. Wilmington was very soon evacuated, thus putting an end to all the hopes of the loyalists of North Carolina; and early in January, Greene approaching Charleston, so distributed his troops as to confine the British to the Neck and the adjoining islands.

The news of the important victory of the allied armies in the South caused a general rejoicing throughout the Union. Nothing could equal the joy and satisfaction caused by the prospect which it afforded. Washington ordained a particular day for the performance of Divine service in the army, recommending that all the troops should engage in it with a serious deportment and that sensibility of heart which the surprising and particular interposition of Providence in their favour claimed.

Congress, on receiving the official intelligence, went in procession to the principal church in Philadelphia, to return thanks to Almighty God for the signal success of the American arms, and appointed the 13th day of December as a day of public thanksgiving and prayer.[[50]]

The official intelligence of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis reached the British cabinet on Sunday, Nov. 25th. The tidings were a blow to the minister, Lord North, who according to Lord George Germaine’s account, received them as he would have done a cannon-ball. He paced up and down the apartment, exclaiming with the deepest emotions of consternation and distress, “Oh God, it is all over!” The king was more calm, perhaps because he was of a more stolid nature. Lord George Germaine communicated the “dismal intelligence” by letter. The king replied that he “particularly lamented the unfortunate result of the operations in Virginia, on account of the consequences connected with it, and the difficulties which it might produce in carrying on the public business, or in repairing the misfortune. It would not, however,” he asserted, “make the slightest alterations in those principles of his conduct which had hitherto directed him, and which would always continue to direct him, in the prosecution of the present contest.”[[51]]

Accordingly, the speech from the throne, on the re-opening of parliament, two days after this news had arrived, breathed the same warlike spirit as at the late close of the session. Nevertheless, a strong opposition existed in parliament; the war was extremely unpopular with the British nation at large; and from the 12th of December to the 4th of the following March, motion after motion was brought forward in the house, for the termination of the war, when, on this latter day, a resolution was moved by General Conway, “that all those should be considered as enemies to his majesty and the country who should advise, or by any means attempt, the further prosecution of the war in America.”

On the 20th, the administration of Lord North terminated, and the advocates of peace and American independence immediately came into power, the Marquis of Rockingham being at the head of the ministry. Hopes of some possible accommodation were entertained, by Lord Shelburne and his party, according to Lord Chatham’s ideas. Overtures were made to Adams at the Hague, and to Franklin at Paris, to ascertain whether the United States would agree to a separate peace, and to something short of the entire recognition of their independence. Sir Guy Carleton, who was appointed to supersede Sir Henry Clinton, was commissioned to treat for peace. He addressed, therefore, a pacific letter to Washington, and put a stop to the predatory incursions of the loyalist Indians, which had been long the scourge of the New York frontiers. Powers to treat were communicated to congress; but that body declined to negotiate except in conjunction with France, and at Paris. Franklin also had returned for answer, through Richard Oswald, a British merchant who had formerly large commercial dealings with America, and who had been sent to Paris for the purpose of sounding him, that nothing short of independence, satisfactory boundaries, and a participation in the fisheries, would be admitted as the foundation for a treaty.

On July 1st, Lord Rockingham died, and Lord Shelburne succeeded him. The views of the king were now strengthened by his minister’s disinclination for the dismemberment of the empire. Rodney had captured nearly the whole fleet of De Grasse in the West Indies, and England was again triumphant in the western hemisphere. Nevertheless the king, in proroguing parliament on July 11th, spoke of his anxious wish for peace. In August, an act of parliament was obtained, authorising a negotiation with America, and Oswald returned to France, to treat with the American agents and commissioners, Franklin, Adams and Jay.

Difficulties arose immediately. The commissioners were authorised to conclude a peace with the agents of certain Colonies. Jay objected, and refused to proceed until Oswald came empowered to treat with the agents of the “United States of America.” This objection being overcome, others had arisen in the meantime. The French minister, Vergennes, from what motive does not exactly appear—perhaps from not being wholly favourable to the new republic—while he instigated the Americans to insist on their share of the Newfoundland fishery, urged the British government not to make the concession. The British agents, however, aware of the double dealing of Vergennes, exposed it, and satisfied the American commissioners that in this respect nothing was to be feared; and no time was lost in bringing the treaty to a conclusion. On the 30th of November, therefore, the preliminaries of the articles of peace were signed at a private meeting unknown to Vergennes, although this proceeding was contrary to their original treaty with France and the late orders of congress.

Vergennes complained of being duped, and felt, or pretended, great indignation at what he called American chicanery; nevertheless, so little did it affect him that, a few days afterwards, he agreed to advance a new loan of six million of livres, to enable America to meet the expenses of the coming year. But there was good reason for suspicion: Vergennes was soon afterwards discovered, in conjunction with Spain, labouring to limit the boundaries assigned to the United States, and earnestly advising the British not to yield too liberally.[[52]]

So anxious was the British minister to announce the coming peace, that eight days before the preliminaries were signed by the American agents, he addressed a letter to the lord mayor of London, to acquaint him with the speedy conclusion of the negotiations, and that parliament would be prorogued in consequence from the 26th of November to the 5th of December.

On the 5th of December parliament accordingly met, and the king announced that, in pursuit of a general pacification, he had offered to declare the American colonies free and independent states; and added, with evident discomposure of manner, that in admitting the separation of the colonies from the crown of Great Britain, he had sacrificed every consideration of his own to the wishes and opinion of his people.

On the 20th of January, 1783, the preliminaries of peace were signed at Paris, the American signatures being those of John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens. Before signing the address, Franklin, it is said, put on triumphantly the dress suit, which he had never worn since the day of Wedderburn’s attack in the British privy council.[[53]]

The British monarch acknowledged by these arrangements the freedom, sovereignty and independence of the United States, relinquishing all claims to the government, proprietary, and territorial rights of the same. The boundaries allowed embraced a larger extent of territory than the States, when colonies, had claimed. At the commencement of the negotiation, the British commissioners had claimed the country north of the Ohio as a part of Canada, to which, indeed, the Quebec act annexed it. They sought also to extend the western limits of Nova Scotia, as far as the Pemaquid, according to the old French claim. These points, however, were compromised; the peninsula of Upper Canada was yielded to the British, the eastern boundary of the United States remaining fixed at the St. Croix. The northern limit of Florida, according to the proclamation of 1763, was agreed to as the southern boundary of the United States, being the river St. Mary’s from its mouth to its source, a due west line thence to the Apalachicola, and from that river to the Mississippi, the 31st degree of north latitude. But, by a secret article, it was agreed that if Britain, at the peace with Spain, should still retain West Florida, the northern boundary of that province was to be a due east line from the mouth of the Yazoo to the river Chattahoochee.

Full liberty was secured to the Americans to take fish of every kind on the Grand Bank, and all other banks of Newfoundland, as also in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and all other places in the sea where they had formerly been accustomed to fish. The navigation of the Mississippi, from its source to the ocean, was for ever to remain free and open to the subjects of Great Britain and the citizens of the United States alike. All the British armies, garrisons and fleets, were to be withdrawn with all convenient speed from the United States, without causing any destruction, or carrying away of negroes, or any other property of the Americans; this last clause being inserted at the instance of Henry Laurens, who represented the slaveholding interests of America, and who had arrived at Paris two days previous to the signing of the preliminaries. A great deal was said on the subject of allowing compensation to the American loyalists, an unfortunate class which had strong claims on the British government. The American commissioners, however, resolutely opposed all compensation, Franklin even declaring that they would rather risk a war by themselves alone than consent to any indemnification for the enemies of and the traitors to their country. A clause was, however, inserted, earnestly recommending the legislatures of the respective States to provide for the restitution of all estates, rights, and properties which had been confiscated, belonging to real British subjects.

While these negotiations and events were taking place in Europe, all was not peace and satisfaction in America; and as regarded the case of the loyalists, the prospect of peace with the concession of Great Britain was anything but acceptable. We will take one incident to show the state of feeling between the two parties. After the American successes in the Carolinas and Georgia, and the capitulation of York Town, the loyalists, maddened by the loss of their property and friends, and the hopeless prospects before them for the future, determined to take the law into their own hands, and on the first occasion hang a republican in retaliation. White, a loyalist, had been put to death for some cause on the 30th of March; on the 12th of April, therefore, Joshua Huddy, a captain in Washington’s army, was seized and hanged, with the following label on his breast: “We, the refugees, having beheld with grief the murders of our brethren, determine not to suffer without taking vengeance, and thus begin; and have made use of Captain Huddy as the first object to present to your view; and further determine to hang man for man while there is a refugee existing. Up goes Huddy for Philip White!”

Savage as was this spirit of vengeance, it was the natural growth of the terrible struggle which for so many years had been going forward in the heart of the country, and which gradually transformed men into fiends. This Philip White, it appears, was murdered by a set of men called the “Monmouth Retaliators,” at the head of which was a General Forman, otherwise “Black David.” Captain Huddy, it was said, was also himself a retaliator. Sir Henry Clinton immediately ordered the murderers of Huddy to be arrested; and Captain Lippincott, their leader, being tried by court-martial, a verdict of Not Guilty was returned, on the plea that he had merely acted in obedience to the commands of his superiors, the “Directors of the Board of Associated Loyalists.” Washington, dissatisfied with this decision, demanded that Lippincott should be given up to him, to be tried by republican law, which being refused, he wrote again, declaring that he, too, in that case, would retaliate. A few days after this second letter, Sir Henry Clinton was superseded by Sir Guy Carleton, who brought with him the first intimation of the willingness of the British government to treat for peace with the United States on the basis of their independence. To him Washington applied on the subject of Lippincott, declaring, as he had already done to Sir Henry Clinton, his intention of retaliation, if Lippincott were not given up. The young officer selected by lot for this melancholy and wicked purpose was Captain Asgill, a prisoner taken at York Town, son of Sir Charles Asgill, and only nineteen years of age. Sir Guy Carleton, in reply to Washington’s demand, very properly broke up the Society of Associated Loyalists; but Lippincott was still not given up. In the meantime, the rank and peculiar circumstances of young Asgill had aroused a strong party to intercede in his behalf; but it was not until November that this young man was set at liberty and allowed to return home. Whether in reality he would have suffered innocently under Washington’s threat of retaliation, we cannot say; but his liberation appears rather to have been the result of interference than a voluntary concession on the part of the American commander. Lady Asgill wrote, in July, a very affecting letter to the French minister Vergennes, beseeching his interference as a friend of Washington’s, with that commander; and this letter being read by Vergennes to the king and queen of France, they commissioned the minister to add their desires to his own, “that the inquietudes of an unfortunate mother might be calmed, and her tenderness reassured.” Washington, on this, forwarded the copy of Lady Asgill’s letter, which had been sent to him, together with that of the French minister, to congress, and the result was an order from that body, dated 7th of November, to set Captain Asgill at liberty.

CHAPTER XIII.
STATE OF THE COUNTRY AFTER THE WAR.

Another great cause of anxiety at this moment, though by no means a fresh one, was the poverty of the American government, which rendered the situation of the Republic, even after it had achieved its object, extremely critical. In the prospect of peace, and the consequent disbanding of the army, where was the money to be found to pay its long arrears, to say nothing of the gratuities which had been promised to both officers and men on the termination of the war? In May, 1782, Washington wrote of his army on the Hudson, as destitute of provisions and in a state of disorder and almost mutiny; and that if the British knew his real situation, and were to make a sudden attempt, he must be driven from his post. Of the army in the South, also, General Greene wrote in August an account still more melancholy. He said that of his men, one-third were “entirely naked, with nothing but a pair of breeches about them, and never came out of their tents,” and that the remainder were “as ragged as wolves.” Their food was as bad as it could be, “their beef perfect carrion, and even of that they had often none at all;” and that the spirit of the army was so mutinous that executions were not unfrequent to check it. Washington feared that even this terrible remedy would lose its effect, and that peace with Britain, if it came, might be succeeded by a social war, so difficult would it be to disband an army with weapons in their hands, who had no prospect before them but poverty and starvation. Well might a deep gloom rest at this time upon his mind.

In the month of July, the rate of interest demanded for money was sixty per cent. In September, Morris, on whose credit the national bank in Philadelphia had been established, confessed that he had no money, and as to borrowing more, it would only increase the mischief, as he saw no prospect of payment.

About this same time the French auxiliary army marched from Virginia to Boston, where it embarked. Hildreth says that the conduct of the French troops, during the two years and a half that they had been in the country, had been very exemplary. They had done less mischief on their marches than the same number of American soldiers; and the regularity with which all their supplies were paid for in cash, contrasted most favourably with the means by which the American troops were too often subsisted.

The boundary line of some of the states having, as we have already said, been a fertile subject of dispute for many years, became in some few instances settled during the present year. Hence, the western boundary of Pennsylvania being decided, Pittsburg returned again to the jurisdiction of that state. The quarrel, too, was adjusted between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, relative to the territorial claim to Wyoming, which also was settled in favour of the larger state, not wholly, however, to the satisfaction of the people of Wyoming.

Between Vermont and New York an old dispute existed. New York asserted a claim to the whole territory—Vermont resolutely resisted it; and being peopled by a stout, determined race, the Green Mountain Boys had, as we have already related, declared themselves, in 1778, an independent state, and as such had applied to congress for admission into the Union. The delegates of New York prevented their admission, but nothing daunted by their rejection, they organised their own constitution, and chose the farmer and innkeeper, Thomas Chittenden, as governor. To be an innkeeper in those primitive, sturdy times, was not to be a man of an inferior class: three American generals, Putnam, Wheedon, and Sumner, were innkeepers, as well as the clear-headed and stout-hearted governor of Vermont. Besides the dispute with New York, the Green Mountain Boys had a second with their equally sturdy neighbour, New Hampshire, the ground of which was this: sixteen newly-settled townships, on the eastern side of the Connecticut River, had applied to be received as a part of Vermont, in order to escape from the heavy taxes which the war rendered it necessary to impose. The townships on both sides of the river next endeavoured to constitute themselves into a new state, under the name of New Connecticut. This secession caused New Hampshire, in retaliation, to lay claim to the whole territory of Vermont. New Hampshire and New York both claiming Vermont, Massachusetts next started up as a claimant also, and demanded, on the plea of her old rights, the whole southern portion of this coveted little state. Congress now offered to interfere and settle the question of this disputed territory, which Massachusetts objected to, in the fear that by this means she would not come in for any portion at all. Vermont, in the meantime, had made up her mind to abide no decision of congress, any more than to yield to any of the separate claimant states, and now took a step, in the persons of her bold sons, the farmer Chittenden and the two warlike brothers Ethan and Ira Allen, the true intention of which has never yet been clearly ascertained. Negotiations were entered into with the British authorities in Canada, probably with a twofold view of guarding against invasion from that side in the present critical state of their affairs, and of operating on the fears of congress. The scheme appeared to answer its purpose; congress promised to recognise Vermont as an independent state, providing she would relinquish her encroachments on New York and New Hampshire. Vermont deliberated; and New York and New Hampshire protesting against the interference of congress, declared that they would send in troops to establish their claims to the whole. Civil war seemed at hand, when Washington interfered, like the parent among his quarrelsome children, and recommended that the New Hampshire townships should be restored to the original state, which was agreed to, and Vermont again applied to be received into the Union, when again New York interfered to prevent the accomplishment of her wishes. This was in February, 1782, when peace with Great Britain was looked upon as certain. And now came a time when Vermont triumphed over her more powerful neighbours, and cared very little for admission into the Union. She was thus free from continental debt, and the perpetual calls of congress for money.

The opposition which New York made to the admission of Vermont into the Union was strengthened by the four Southern States, who dreaded lest their own backwoodsmen should follow the example of the bold little northern state. Kentucky, which in 1781 had increased so greatly that it was divided into three counties—Jefferson, Fayette, and Lincoln—had, as we already know, long since petitioned congress on the subject, and similar ideas prevailed among the settlers on the Tennessee.[[54]]

Though the main armies were lying in a state of inactivity during the present year of pacific negotiation, war still prevailed, and that with unusual severity, on the western frontiers. The Christian Delawares settled on the river Muskinghum, in the present state of Ohio, where they had many flourishing and populous villages, suffered cruelly at this period. Unlike the Indians in general, they had, as followers of Christ, renounced war and the weapons of war, and aimed at preserving throughout these troubled times a perfect neutrality. The hostile Indians, on their way from Detroit and the north-west to the American frontiers, demanded supplies from these Delawares, whose villages lay directly on the war-path, and which they had no means of refusing. Hence they were regarded by the backwoodsmen as “the half-way-house” of the enemy, and compelled, in the autumn of 1781, to abandon their peaceful and prosperous homes, and remove to Sandusky on Lake Erie. The following winter, being reduced to great suffering from the want of provisions, they obtained permission to return to the Muskinghum, to gather in the corn left standing in the fields. Just then some murders being committed, near Pittsburg, by a wandering party of Shawanees, the Delawares, though innocent, were suspected, and about ninety men of the neighbourhood, under the leadership of one Williamson, marched to the Muskinghum to take vengeance. For want of a canoe, they crossed the river in a wooden trough made to hold maple sap, two men at once, and arrived at the centre village, where a party of Christian Indians were gathering in their corn. The Indians of another village were sent for, and a council held to decide on their fate. Williamson referred the matter to his men. Sixteen only voted for mercy, the remainder, holding the faith common on the frontiers, that “an Indian had no more soul than a buffalo,” were for the murder of all. They rushed on their prey, knife in hand, and soon ninety unarmed Indians, avowing, like themselves, faith in Christ, lay bleeding on the ground.

Nor did this satisfy them. Flushed with success, continues Hildreth, from whom we take this account, 480 men marched in May, under Colonels Williamson and Crawford, to complete the destruction of the Christian Indians, by assailing Sandusky, which, however, lay in the midst of Indians of a very different character. Waylaid by a hostile party near Sandusky, they were attacked by an overwhelming force, and obliged to retreat with much loss of life. Williamson made his escape, but Crawford and many more fell into the hands of the Indians, who burned him at the stake, together with his son and his son-in-law, in revenge for the murders at the Muskinghum.

1782 was a disastrous year in Kentucky, from the same cause. Several Indian battles occurred, but the one at the Big Blue Lick was the bloodiest ever fought in Kentucky. We will give it somewhat in detail, from Lippincott’s Cabinet History of Kentucky, as a specimen of border warfare; and a picture also of the perils of backwoods-life. On the southern banks of the Elkhorn stood Bryant’s Station, containing about forty cabins, strongly palisadoed and garrisoned by fifty men. On the 12th of August, news reached them that a Captain Holden, with a party of seventeen, had been defeated by the Indians near the Upper Blue Licks, and that the loyalist, Simon Girty, with other refugees, and an army of 600 Indian warriors, might be almost hourly expected. The garrison, thus warned, were under arms when Girty and his army approached. The enemy, aware that preparation was made for their reception, left a considerable body in ambush near the spring which, at some little distance, supplied the station with water, and only a small portion appeared before the place, hoping to entice the garrison outside their defences, while the remainder were so posted, in case this scheme succeeded, as to storm one of the gates and cut off their return. Fortunately, however, when just about to sally forth, a sudden firing in the opposite direction made them aware of their danger, and closing their gates, they awaited the enemy within their defences. But they had no water. Without water they must perish. In this difficulty the women came to their aid. They would venture to fetch water from the spring, in the hope that the Indians lying in ambush would not unmask themselves merely to women. Accordingly a body of elderly matrons marched down to the spring, where lay about 500 Indian warriors in ambush. Their faith saved them; they supplied the wants of the station, and not a single shot was fired.

Messengers were sent off to all the nearest stations to summon help, which might now soon be expected; accordingly thirteen young men sallied out upon the decoy-party, and at that moment Girty rushed forward at the head of the main body towards the gate intending to force an entrance. But the garrison was ready for him and his party, and they were driven back. In a few minutes they were again out of sight. About two o’clock in the afternoon, sixteen men on horseback, and about double that number on foot, from a neighbouring station, approached in aid of their besieged friends. All was silent, no enemy to be seen. On one side of the road which led to the village, lay a large field of 100 acres full of standing corn; a thick wood was on the other, and amid the corn and within the wood were the Indians crouched, waiting within pistol-shot the approach of this little band. As the horsemen entered the lane a sudden firing commenced. They put spurs to their horses, the lane was deep in dust, amid a cloud of which they escaped and reached the fort unharmed, the gates of which were opened to receive them. The men on foot were less fortunate; passing by a short cut through the corn, they heard the firing and rushed to the succour of their friends. Luckily the Indian guns being then mostly discharged, and the rifles of the Kentuckians loaded, they had some advantage, and by pointing them at the Indians, and dodging and running deeper into the corn, were enabled to keep them at bay for some time.

Some entered the wood and escaped through the cane thickets; some were shot down; others maintained a running fight, stopping to load and fire from behind trees. One stout young fellow, being hard pressed by Girty and several Indians, fired; Girty fell, but the ball struck a thick piece of soling-leather which lined a pouch which he wore, and saved his life. Six white men were killed, not so many Indians.

The Indians now returned to the fort, and knowing that the neighbouring station would soon take the alarm and rush to the aid of their friends, the chiefs proposed to raise the siege, but Girty determined to try the effect of negotiation first. Crawling on his hands and knees, therefore, in Indian fashion, to the close neighbourhood of one of the gates, where stood the stump of a tree, he mounted it, and with a flag of truce in his hand hailed the garrison, commending them for their bravery, but assuring them that resistance was vain, as he had 600 men with him and hourly expected reinforcements and artillery, and advising them, therefore, to surrender, when not a hair of their heads should be hurt—otherwise he would blow the whole place into the air. “Shoot down the villain!” said many voices; but the flag of truce protected him. No answer being returned, he cried, “Do you know who it is that speaks to you?”

“Do we know you?” exclaimed an energetic young man named Reynolds, who undertook to give reply in the name of the garrison; “Yes, we know you, Simon Girty!” and then proceeding in the same strain, he said, that he himself had a good-for-nothing rascally dog, and that for want of a bad name he called him Simon Girty; adding, that if he had artillery coming he might bring it up; that they too expected reinforcements; and that, in short, if Girty and his gang remained four-and-twenty hours longer before the place, their scalps would be soon drying on the roofs of the cabins.

Such was the reply to Girty. It was very offensive, but it was irresistible, and the next morning they retired so precipitately that several pieces of meat upon their roasting-sticks were left and their fires still burning. By noon 160 men had assembled at Bryant’s Station, under Colonels Todd, Trigg, Boone, and the celebrated Major M‘Gary. The Kentuckians are remarkable for their impetuosity, which amounts almost to rashness. In the afternoon they were all ready and impatient to set off in pursuit; M’Gary objected to this precipitancy, but was overruled. The party was mostly mounted.

At the Lower Blue Licks they came in sight of the enemy, who, having reached the southern bank of the Licking, were then ascending the rocky ridge on the other side. The Indians halted for a moment, turned round and gazed at their pursuers, and then quietly proceeded onward. The Kentuckians halted also, and consulted together what was best to be done. Boone, who understood perfectly the Indian mode of warfare, expressed his belief that an ambush was planted in a ravine about a mile in advance. He advised to wait for Logan, who might be expected soon to join them with reinforcements. Waiting, however, did not suit their ardent temperaments; and M’Gary suddenly raising the war-whoop, spurred his horse into the stream, waving his hat and shouting, “Let all who are not cowards follow me!” and all followed him.

As Boone had expected, no sooner had they reached the ravine than they were attacked; a deadly fire poured in upon them; they staggered and fell in every direction, the enemy in the meantime being completely concealed. They fled back to the river; the Indians pursued, and now the slaughter with the tomahawk commenced. The ford was narrow, and great numbers were killed there. It was a scene of horrible confusion—horses plunging, riders falling, others attempting to mount, and amid all, the bloody Indian tomahawk doing its cruel work.

One man named Netherfield, who had been laughed at as a coward, and who had never dismounted, was the first to reach the opposite shore. Here, soon joined by some of his comrades, he looked round, and seeing the massacre that was going forward, pulled rein as he exclaimed, “Halt! fire on the Indians! Protect the men in the river!” And on this all wheeled round, fired, and rescued several poor fellows in the stream over whom the tomahawk was lifted.

Reynolds, the young man who replied to Girty, had a narrow escape. Finding in the retreat an officer wounded, he dismounted and gave him his horse, when he was immediately seized by three Indians. They were just about to despatch him, when two other white men rushed by. Two of the savages started in pursuit, and the third having stooped to fasten his moccasin, Reynolds sprang away from him and escaped.

More than sixty Kentuckians were slain in this battle; among whom were six officers and the son of Daniel Boone. Such as regained the shore, too weak to rally, started homeward in great dejection. On their way they met Logan. He had reached Bryant’s Station with 500 men, soon after their departure. Nothing now remained but to go back and bury the dead. Logan accompanied them. Arrived at the scene of carnage, an awful spectacle presented itself; the dead bodies were strewed over the ground as they had fallen; the heat was intense, and birds of prey were feeding on the carcases. The bodies were so mangled that none could distinguish friend or relative. The dead were buried as rapidly as possible.

Nor was this all the carnage. The Indians after the defeat had scattered, but only to sweep through other settlements, carrying everywhere destruction before them.

Innumerable instances of suffering fortitude and heroism abound in this portion of the American border-history. One passage from the life of a Kentucky pioneer we will give, even at the risk of being thought to dwell too long on this subject.

During this same troubled year of 1782, late in the summer, predatory bands of Indians having committed great ravages in the vicinity of Elizabeth Town, Silas Hart, surnamed by the Indians “Sharp-Eye,” assembled a party of settlers and pursued the marauders. In the pursuit Hart shot their chief, and his brother, having vowed vengeance, came secretly with a small band of warriors to Elizabeth Town, and commenced the work of plunder and destruction.

The neighbourhood was roused, and the Indians fled, Hart being again the foremost in pursuit. Finding it impossible to overtake the savages, the people returned to their homes; and the Indians, who kept close watch upon their movements, turned when they turned and followed them back to the settlement.

Hart reached home, some five miles from Elizabeth Town, about dusk, and fearing no enemy, went to bed and slept soundly. The next morning, the Indians, who had secreted themselves round the house in the night, suddenly appeared at the door, and the brother of the fallen chief deliberately shot Hart dead. The son of Hart, a boy of twelve, no sooner saw his father fall than, grasping a rifle, he sent a bullet through the chief before he could enter.

The Indians rushed into the house; again the foremost warrior was killed by a blow from a hunting-knife in the hands of the resolute boy; the family, however, were speedily overpowered and carried into captivity. The daughter, unable to bear the fatigues of a forced march, was despatched by the Indians at a short distance from the settlement. The mother and son were doomed to a lingering and painful death.

When the prisoners reached the Wabash, preparations were made for their execution. Fortunately, the extraordinary heroism of the boy having touched the heart of an influential woman of the tribe, his life was spared at her intercession. Mrs. Hart was also saved from the stake by the intervention of a chief. The mother and son were finally ransomed and returned to their desolate homes.

The back settlements of South Carolina were ravaged also by parties of loyalists and Cherokees, the brother of General Pickens being on one occasion made prisoner. At the head of a body of South Carolina and Georgia militia, General Pickens, in return, invaded and laid waste the Cherokee country.

In February, General Greene being reinforced by the Pennsylvanian troops under Wayne, despatched him into Georgia, when Clarke, who commanded there for the British, drew in his outposts, and having ravaged and destroyed everything in his way, retired to Savannah. The people of Georgia, republicans and loyalists, were so impoverished by mutual plunder, that even seed-corn was hardly to be had. In June, Wayne’s camp was attacked by a body of Creek Indians, who, however, were repulsed with loss. In July, the British forces evacuated Savannah, carrying with them not less than 5,000 negroes. In October, a new expedition against the Cherokees, undertaken by Pickens, resulted in a treaty by which Georgia obtained all the Cherokee lands south of the Savannah and east of Chattahoochee, and the Creeks shortly after relinquished all claim to the lands east of the Altamaha and Oconee. Skirmishing continued in the neighbourhood of Charleston till near the end of the year, in which some valuable lives were lost, that of the younger Laurens being one. On December 14th, Charleston was evacuated.[[55]]

CHAPTER XIV.
FIRST YEARS OF PEACE.

The year 1783 commenced with the old money difficulties. Peace was now certain; but the disbanding of the army without money to pay its arrears, was a difficulty which all the wisdom and the courage of the young republic knew not how to overcome. Many schemes were suggested; among the rest, one had been started the preceding year, which, however, met with no encouragement; but as it presents the noble spectacle of a human being superior to temptation and ambition, we must be allowed to pause upon it for a moment. One Louis Nicola, a colonel of the Pennsylvanian line, regarding the financial difficulties of America as the result of republican principles, became the agent of a party in the army who held similar views. It was proposed, therefore, that a monarchical government should be established, with Washington at his head, the army, of course, coming in for a fair share of offices and emoluments. Nicola was employed to lay the plan before the commander-in-chief, which he did in a plausible and elaborate letter. The government proposed for America was, however, to be no ordinary monarchy; “nevertheless,” said the writer, “strong arguments might be adduced for admitting the title of king.”

Washington’s ambition was not of that vulgar kind. The proposal astonished, displeased and grieved him. He replied that no occurrence during the whole war had caused him so much pain, as now to learn that such ideas existed in the army, ideas which he viewed with abhorrence and reprehended with severity. “I am at a loss,” continued he, “to conceive what part of my conduct can have given encouragement to an address which to me seems big with the greatest mischief which could befall my country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable.” “Nevertheless,” said Washington, turning to the root of the mischief, “no man possesses a more sincere wish to see ample justice done to the army than I do; and as far as my powers and influence, in a constitutional way, extend, they shall be employed to effect it.”

No more was heard of making Washington king. But the causes of the army’s discontent remained no less this year than they had done the last, although congress did its utmost for their removal. Discontent and disaffection were growing apace. Even Washington began now to be censured for indifference towards their troubles, because he had not removed them, and because his own private property left him independent of pay, which in fact, he had declined from the first.

Congress was anxiously deliberating on some means of raising money, when an anonymous invitation appeared, calling upon the general and field-officers, with an officer from each company, to attend a meeting on the following day, for the purpose of taking their own affairs into consideration. At the same time an artful and energetic address was circulated, written, as was afterwards discovered, by Captain Armstrong, aide-de-camp to Gates, appealing to the passions of the officers, setting forth their unrequited dangers and sufferings, and advising them no longer to ask for justice from congress, but with arms in their hands to obtain it from that body through their fears.

Washington, who was still in camp at Newburgh, seeing the fearful crisis which was now at hand, issued an order denouncing the anonymous call for the meeting as irregular, and naming a later day, on which the officers were invited by himself to assemble for the purpose of receiving the report of their committee sent to congress; while, in the meantime, he had personal interviews with individual officers, and used all his influence to calm their passions and to infuse a spirit of confidence and patience.

The meeting assembled, and Washington rose to read a short speech which he had prepared. He took off his spectacles to wipe them, remarking that his eyes had grown dim in the service of his country, but that he had never doubted her justice. He then, reading from the paper, appealed to the patriotism and good sense of the officers, and entreated them to rely on the justice of congress, and stigmatised the anonymous addresses as the work of some British emissary, whose object was disgrace to the army and ruin to the country. Then repeating in public the remonstrances he had used in private to different officers, he retired from the meeting. No one rose to counteract the effect of the speech. A series of resolutions was then passed, expressive of unshaken confidence in congress, “and abhorrence and disdain of the infamous proposal” contained in the anonymous addresses.[[56]]

Washington had pledged himself to the army to use his utmost influence with congress, and he redeemed his pledge. The half-pay for life which had been promised, was soon after commuted into five years’ full pay at once, the certificates to be issued for it to bear interest at six per cent.

The insurrection among the officers had been quelled, but the army itself was not satisfied. Three months’ pay had been promised, but as it was not forthcoming, the men thought probably that neither could they do better than appeal to the fears of congress, as the officers themselves had just before recommended. Congress was sitting at Philadelphia, when a letter demanding their pay was sent to that body by the Pennsylvanian troops, just returned from the South, and immediately afterwards that part of the troops stationed at Lancaster marched to Philadelphia for the same purpose. Congress desired that the militia might be called out; but the council of Pennsylvania, with President Dickenson at their head, frightened at this threatening aspect, demurred, alleging that the militia would not act unless some outrage were committed. The mutineers, on reaching the city, were joined by the troops in barracks, and under the command of seven sergeants surrounded the State-house, where congress and the state council were sitting, and demanded immediate payment. They were only induced to disperse on being allowed to choose a committee to represent their grievances.

Congress, which felt itself doubly insulted by the mutineers and the pusillanimity of the Philadelphia council, adjourned in disgust to Princetown, where they were received with great respect. Washington, on hearing of the revolt, sent 1,500 men, who instantly dispersed the mutineers, several of whom were tried and condemned by court-martial, but afterwards pardoned.

It now became a warmly-agitated question where congress should permanently hold its sittings, since Philadelphia had proved herself so incapable of protecting that august body. One party advocated a federal city being established on the Delaware, another on the Potomac. Maryland offered Annapolis; New York, Kingston on the Hudson: while the council of Philadelphia apologised and endeavoured to bring back congress to their city, but in vain. It was finally agreed that, as soon as two suitable sites could be found, two federal cities should be created, at which congress should alternately hold its sittings. In the meantime Annapolis and Trenton were to be used for that purpose, the next session to be held at Annapolis. The following year congress sat at Trenton, but adjourned to New York, where it continued to meet till the year 1800, by which time the city of Washington had been prepared for a suitable federal seat of government. Washington stands in a territory ten miles square, called the District of Columbia, which had been ceded to the general government by the States of Maryland and Virginia for that purpose.

On the 19th of April, 1783, exactly eight years after the battle of Lexington, the news of the preliminaries being signed between Great Britain and the United States, with the consequent cessation of hostilities, was published in the camp at Newburgh. The proclamation of peace was celebrated, four days afterwards, in Greene’s camp, by fireworks and musketry; and the very army, “ragged as wolves,” was at that moment so short of food that for several days they had been without either bread or rice. On June 8th, Washington published a farewell letter addressed to the governors of the States, urging oblivion of local prejudices and politics, indissoluble union, a proper peace establishment, and careful provision for the payment of the public debt. On November 3rd was issued a proclamation from congress for the general disbanding of the army, which took place on the 5th; Washington having the day previous issued his farewell orders. On the 25th, the British troops having all embarked at New York, a detachment of the American army, under General Knox, entered and took possession. And here we may remark, that during the last year, 1782, the desertions from the British army in New York had been very frequent, especially from Arnold’s corps, the men going off with their horses and arms, by threes, fives and sixes at a time, as did also many Hessians.

WASHINGTON’S RECEPTION AT NEW YORK.

On the same day that the Americans regained possession of New York, Washington also entered it, preparatory to taking leave of the army. We will give the account of these remarkable events from Dunlap’s History of New York, who quotes principally from the narrative of an eye-witness:—“On that memorable day, the 25th of November, General Washington entered the city by the Bowery, the only road at that time, accompanied by his friends and the citizens, mostly on horseback. At an appointed hour the British troops had embarked, and their gallant fleet was standing to sea over the bay.

“The military of the American army were under the command of General Knox, who took immediate possession of the fort, and prepared to hoist the American colours and fire an appropriate salute. The British, after taking down their flag, had ‘knocked off the cleats and slushed the flag-staff,’ so as to prevent the American colours from being hoisted. But after an hour’s hard labour, in which a sailor-boy played a distinguished part, the American standard was hoisted on Fort George by this same sailor-boy, a true type of bold young America; and a salute was fired of thirteen rounds immediately, and three cheers were given.

“At the time the flag was being hoisted, the river was covered with boats filled with soldiers, to embark on board the shipping that lay at anchor in the North River,—the boats at the time lay on their oars, sterns to shore, to observe the hoisting of the American colours, during which time they preserved a profound silence. The boats rowed off to their shipping when the salute of thirteen guns was fired.

“The commander-in-chief took up his head-quarters at the tavern known as ‘Black Sam’s,’ so called from its keeper, Samuel Francis, being a man of a dark complexion, and there he continued until December the 4th. On that day at noon the officers assembled, when their beloved leader entered the room, and after addressing them in a few words, concluded by saying: ‘I cannot come to each of you to take leave, but shall be obliged to you if you will come and shake me by the hand.’

“General Knox, who had served with him from the commencement of hostilities, was the first to experience the parting grasp of the hero’s hand; and in turn all present, with tears and in silence, pressed that hand which had guided a nation through the storms of war, and was destined afterwards to rule its destinies. Leaving the room, he passed through a line of his brave soldiers to Whitehall, where he entered into a barge waiting for him. He turned to the assembled multitude, waved his hat, and then bade them a silent adieu, as they thought, for ever.”

Congress was sitting then at Annapolis, and Washington hastened thither, to deposit in the hands of those from whom he had received it, in the year 1775, his commission of commander-in-chief of the American forces.

On his way, he deposited in the Controller’s office at Philadelphia, the account of his expenses during the war, secret-service money included, which amounted to £19,306 11s. 6d. A public audience was appointed by congress to receive him, and briefly addressing it, he offered his congratulations on the termination of the war, and concluded by saying: “Having finished the work assigned me, I now retire from the great theatre of action, and bidding 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.”

From Annapolis Washington hastened to his home at Mount Vernon, which he had visited but once during the eight years of his arduous public service, and where he continued quietly living as “Farmer Washington” until summoned by the public voice to a convention, for the amendment of the government founded by the old confederacy of sovereign States, and of which we shall speak in its place.

We now return to the evacuation of America by the British. Four days after the British troops had left New York, Long Island and Staten Island were given up. The whole sea-coast was thus once more wholly American; but the western frontier-posts of Oswegatchie, Oswego, Niagara, Presque Isle (now Erie), Sandusky, Detroit, and Mackinaw, were still held by British garrisons.

WASHINGTON TAKING LEAVE OF THE ARMY.

Henry Laurens, it will be remembered, had caused the insertion of an article in the treaty of peace, to prohibit the carrying away of slaves under the protection of the British. This referred principally to Virginia and the Carolinas, where great numbers of slaves had joined the British, under promise of protection. Sir Henry Clinton, however, was not disposed to pay attention to this prohibition; and when Washington reminded him of it, he replied that it would be highly dishonourable to the British flag to surrender any who had taken refuge under it. Accordingly he sent off all such negroes in the first embarkation, in order that their safety might be secured. They were taken to Nova Scotia, and thence many of them emigrated to Sierra Leone, where their descendants, as merchants and traders, now constitute the wealthiest and most intelligent population of that African colony.[[57]]

There had also been an attempt, on the part of Britain, to provide for the safety and indemnification of the loyalists, in the treaty of peace. Little, however, could be done for them by this mere recommendation of justice and humanity. The difficulty of finding transports for the removal of the loyalists, who had crowded into New York with their families, delayed the evacuation of that city considerably. The penalty of the American laws compelled them to abandon their country, although at the sacrifice of wealth and property. Many of them, however, spite of the confiscations, possessed considerable wealth, which had been made during the war by privateering and as sutlers to the British army. Those from the Northern States settled principally in Nova Scotia or Canada; 450 sailed to Nova Scotia in the month of October, from New York, under a strong convoy. They were furnished by the British with provisions for a year; rations for a passage of twenty-one days; clothing; tools for husbandry, together with arms and ammunition. They were to receive also grants of land. The greater number of them, however, gradually returned to the United States, when a few years had worn away the inveteracy of the hatred felt against them. Those from the Southern States found refuge in the British West India Islands. The feeling against the loyalists was very strong in the South, where the sufferings of the people had been severe and more recent. In reestablishing the State government of South Carolina, none were allowed to vote who had taken British protection. Among the very earliest proceedings of the assembly, was the passage of a law banishing the most active British partisans, and confiscating their property. The services of General Greene were rewarded by a grant of 10,000 guineas, to purchase him an estate. The Georgia Assembly passed a similar law of banishment and confiscation, and Greene received also from this province the present of a confiscated estate; while North Carolina acknowledged his services by a grant of wild lands.[[58]]

The loyalists, finding that the mere recommendation of indemnity from Great Britain did not secure it to them from the State government, appointed a committee of their body to lay their grievances and their faithful services before the British parliament. A commission was accordingly appointed to inquire into and report upon their claims and losses; and in 1791, 4,123 claims were admitted, amounting to upwards of £8,000,000. All claims of £10,000 and under were paid in full, the remainder in a three-and-a-half per cent. stock. Claimants whose losses were the deprivation of lucrative offices received equivalent pensions. On the whole they were extremely well provided for and indemnified. The Penn and Calvert families received a considerable portion of this parliamentary allowance; besides which, we must not omit to mention that, in 1779, Pennsylvania, by act of assembly, granted to the heirs of William Penn, on the relinquishment of quit-rents and proprietary claims, the sum of £130,000, to be paid by instalments, commencing the first year after the peace. The State of Maryland was less liberal, as regarded her proprietary claims, on the plea of the illegitimacy of the infant representative of the Calverts.

Whilst the great struggle for independence had been going on, and every state in turn, New Hampshire excepted, had been the scene of a desolating war, the heart of the nation had still been so vigorously alive that the organisation of the local governments and the arrangement of terms for confederation and union had never for one moment been lost sight of. Liberty and enlightenment gradually advanced, although the revolution made no violent change in the political institutions of America, beyond casting off the superintending power of the mother-country, and that power in a great degree was replaced by the authority of congress.

“The most marked peculiarity of the revolution,” continues the able historian, Hildreth, to whom we are so largely indebted, “was the public recognition of the theory of the equal rights of man”—a theory set forth in the declaration of colonial rights, made by the first congress at Philadelphia; solemnly reiterated in the Declaration of Independence; and expressly or tacitly recognised as the foundation-principle of all the new governments. This principle however, encountered, in existing prejudices and institutions, many serious and even formidable obstacles to its general application, giving rise to several striking political anomalies. Of these the most startling was domestic slavery, an institution inconsistent with the equal rights of man. That this anomaly was felt at the time, is clearly enough evinced by the fact that no distinct provision on the subject of slavery appears in any State constitution, except that of Delaware, which provided “that no person hereafter imported from Africa ought to be held in slavery under any pretence whatever; and that no negro, Indian, or mulatto slave ought to be brought into this state for sale from any part of the world.”

Prior to the revolution the anti-slavery struggle had begun in New England; and in 1777, a number of slaves on board a prize-ship taken by an American privateer and brought into Salem for sale, were at once set at liberty by the interference of the General Court, and yet the provisional congress of Massachusetts at the same time forbade any negro to enlist into the army. Its Bill of Rights declared all men to be born free and equal, and this was considered by the Supreme Court to prohibit slavery.

The assembly of Pennsylvania in 1708 forbade the further introduction of slaves, and gave freedom to all persons thereafter born in the state. The most enlightened and illustrious citizens of Virginia and Maryland responded to the feelings which led New England and Pennsylvania to abolish slavery in their states, and they too forbade the further introduction of slaves and removed the restrictions on emancipation, though slavery as an institution was retained. New York and New Jersey followed the example of Virginia and Maryland, forbidding also the introduction of slaves from other states. The Quaker population of North Carolina strongly advocated the same Christian line of conduct, but were not supported by the legislators of the state. South Carolina and Georgia made no alteration whatever in their laws regarding slavery.

The importation of “indented servants,” so numerous in some of the states, and who were slaves in a modified sense, ceased with the war of the revolution. But in Connecticut, even to within the present century, debtors unable to meet the claims against them might be legally sold by their creditors into temporary slavery.

The year 1784 brought with it all the anxieties and difficulties consequent on the termination of a struggle, such as that through which America had just passed. The crisis of a great fever was over, and the sufferer was left with prostrated strength, excited nerves, and irritable temperament. Wisdom and prudence, and the vigour of his youthful constitution would, however, restore him to perfect health. In the meantime many a long depression and many a sally of impatience and petulance must be borne.

This was precisely the case with America. She had suffered from every calamity of war; her towns had been burned, her country ravaged, her frontiers laid waste by Indians; her citizens had been called out to serve in her army, and to suffer even more than the average miseries of camps, hunger, nakedness, and disease, with insufficient hospital resources. Citizen had been armed against citizen, and even brother against brother. Civil war had here assumed its direst aspect. Agriculture, trade and manufactures, had decayed during the war, and thousands of otherwise industrious and prosperous inhabitants were thrown out of employment, and so totally impoverished as to be nearly destitute of clothing. The once imposing navy was now completely annihilated. Almost every vessel, whether home-built or purchased, had been destroyed or had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The only ship of the line built during these disastrous years, and finished in 1782, was presented to the king of France, to supply the loss of one of his in Boston harbour. Add to all this an immense debt, the natural consequence of war, universal distress and discontent.

Congress met; and financial affairs claimed its first attention. Secondly came an important fact. Virginia ceded all her claims to lands lying north-west of the Ohio. New York had already set this example two or three years before, and now prided herself on having been the first to do so. By her act of cession, Virginia stipulated for the security of the French inhabitants already occupying those lands, and that those lands should be erected into republican states, to be admitted into the Union with the same rights as the older states. This led to vast plans for the laying out of states, and the government of the immense territory which the United States expected to acquire by the cession of the claims of the different states. The originators of these plans were Jefferson, who sat in congress as delegate from Virginia; Chase, of Maryland; and Howell, of Rhode Island. Among other proposed conditions for new states was the following: “After the year 1800, there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, other than in the punishment of crimes whereof the party shall have been duly convicted.” But the requisite votes of nine states could not be obtained, and this condition was lost.

Everything was done by congress to reduce the public expenditure. The military force retained at the peace amounted to 700 men, placed under Knox, in garrison at West Point and Pittsburg. These however, being thought too many, all were disbanded, excepting twenty-five men to guard the stores at Pittsburg, and fifty-five for West Point and other magazines, while no officer above the rank of captain was retained. Nor was even a minister-of-war considered necessary.

In March, 1785, Benjamin Franklin, after an absence of nine years, solicited his recall, and Jefferson was appointed to succeed him as the American representative at the French Court, and just about the same time John Adams was appointed to the same office in England. The now aged Colonel Oglethorpe, the founder of Georgia, was the first person who waited on the American minister in London. Great Britain declined as yet to send over a diplomatic agent to the United States.

In October, 1784, a treaty was concluded at Fort Schuyler between the United States and the chiefs and warriors of the Six Nations, by which the Mohawks, Onondagas, Cayugas and Senecas, who during the war had been adherents of the British, consented to peace and the release of prisoners. At the same time they ceded all their claim to the territory west of Pennsylvania. In the following January a similar treaty was entered into with the Wyandots, Delawares, Chippewas and Ottawas, by which the two former nations agreed to limit themselves to a tract on Lake Erie. The Shawanees refusing to form any pacific treaty, congress empowered the enlistment of 700 men for three years, to defend the western frontiers.

Again Kentucky, which now numbered six instead of three counties, and which had a supreme court and court-house, together with a jail, although as yet built only of hewn logs, resolved to form a separate state, and accordingly petitioned Virginia for permission to do so. They had no printing-press or newspaper as yet, but the address on this important occasion was circulated in manuscript.

Tennessee was rapidly increasing likewise, and beginning again, like her neighbour, to think of independence, although as yet a great portion of the present territory remained in the hands of the Indians. Under the name of Franklin, or Frankland, a provisional government was organised, with John Sevier at the head, which, though leading to violence and almost civil war, and put down for the present, yet rose up again in due time, like a growth of the forest, and John Sevier was the first legalised state’s governor, with a recognised place in congress. Nor were the Wyoming people yet satisfied, and a John Franklin there, with Ethan Allen of Vermont, and other “wild Yankees,” as they were called, agitated for an independent existence, until at length Pennsylvania, who had acted like a step-mother to them, pacified their uneasiness by granting their reasonable requests. The settlers of Maine also were stirred by the same craving for independence, and agitated for it and a remission of taxes.

Massachusetts surrendered to the United States, in April, her claims to the western territory; and in May, congress enacted an ordinance for the survey and sale of the lands north-west of the Ohio. Regular surveys on a systematic and uniform plan were commenced. The plan is described by Hildreth as consisting of a series of lines perpendicular to each other, the one set running north and south, the other east and west, by which means the federal lands were to be lotted out into townships of six miles square, each township to be again subdivided by similar lines into thirty-six sections, each containing a square mile. The survey has since been carried to half and quarter sections, and even to sixteenths. One section in each township was to be reserved as the basis of a school fund, which however, it is to be regretted, has not always been attended to. The public lands, when ready for market, were to be sold by public auction, the minimum price being one dollar per acre, to which the expenses of survey were to be added.

The whole attention of congress was not, however, devoted to such agreeable subjects as the survey and sale of the great western territory. The early instalments of foreign debts were falling due in addition to the old pressure for money. It was no use to impose taxes, for each state had its own local debts, and congress had no legal power to enforce their payment. Nevertheless, in the midst of all these urgent and accumulating cares, congress being possessed of powers to regulate the currency and coinage of the country, turned its attention to this subject. A decimal scale was adopted, and the dollar, as the coin best known and most common in America, was taken as the money unit. A mint was established in October, 1786, but the poverty of congress allowed no coinage excepting a few tons of copper cents.[[59]]

We have spoken of the uneasy, restless spirit which was agitating in the newer settlements, the resistance against taxation being in many cases the primal cause, while others were by no means wanting, among which may be reckoned the disorganisation of the social state by the long war, the regular useful and arduous occupations of the male population having been interrupted, and a vast number of discontented, impoverished and unoccupied men thrown upon society. The general court of Massachusetts had found it necessary to impose taxes which, perhaps, in any case would have been ill received, but which now led to general resistance and even rebellion. The discontented had arms in their hands; they had seen the country free itself from the tyranny of Britain by these means, and now they were about to try the same against what they considered the tyranny of their own government. In September of 1786, the number of the malcontents appearing so large and formidable, the militia were called out to protect the sittings of the court, which it was the object of the insurgents to prevent; and so conciliatory and considerate was the spirit of the government, that their grievances were taken under consideration and as much as possible redressed. Bills were passed for diminishing legal costs, law charges being at that time enormous; and for allowing the payment of taxes and private debts in specific articles instead of specie, of which there was scarcely any in the country; as well as for applying certain revenues, formerly devoted to other purposes, to the payment of governmental taxes. So far were concessions made; still the agitation continued, and the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended for eight months. Under the plea of raising troops to act against the north-western Indians, congress enacted the enlistment of 1,300 men, to sustain the government of Massachusetts. Nevertheless full pardon for past offences was promised to all, if they would cease from these illegal agitations.

But the seriousness of the occasion only increased, and at length some few of the agitators were lodged in Boston jail. This was the token for more determined measures, and upwards of 1,000 armed men, under the command of Daniel Shays, a late captain in the continental army, of Luke Day and Eli Parsons, appeared at Worcester, where the supreme court had just adjourned, and placed guards over those houses where the judges lodged, so as to prevent the sitting of the court, while the remainder took up their quarters in an old revolutionary barracks in the neighbourhood. Another still larger body, also under the command of Shays, marched towards Springfield, where was the federal arsenal under the guard of General Shepherd, of which they intended to possess themselves.

This was in the depth of an unusually severe winter, and the insurgents suffered bitterly from the cold and want of provisions; nevertheless their ardour was unabated. Arrived at Springfield, and in reply to the demand that the arsenal should be surrendered, General Shepherd, after warning and entreating them to retire, fired upon them. The first discharge was over their heads; no notice was taken. The second was into the ranks; a cry of “Murder!” arose, and all fled in confusion, leaving three men dead on the field and one wounded.

General Lincoln pursued with 3,000 militia, called out to serve for thirty days; but the insurgents fled to Pelham, where they posted themselves upon two hills, rendered almost inaccessible by a great fall of snow. They offered to disperse on condition of general pardon, which Lincoln, however, was not empowered to grant, and then being sorely pressed for food, made a sudden retreat to Petersham. Lincoln, informed of this retreat, set off at six in the evening, and marching all night forty miles, through intense cold and a driving snow-storm, reached Petersham by daybreak, to the astonishment of the rebels, who had not the least idea of this movement, and accordingly fled in disorder or were taken prisoners.

The energy of Lincoln broke up this formidable confederacy. Straggling parties still were in existence, and occasional collisions took place between them and the authorities, but the public danger was at an end. In May, a pardon was proclaimed to all who, within three months, should take the oath of allegiance, with the exception of nine persons. All insurgents, however, were deprived for three years of the right to vote, to serve as jurymen, or to be employed as schoolmasters, innkeepers, or the retailers of ardent spirits. Of the nine condemned to death, four escaped from prison, four were afterwards liberated, and one was condemned to hard labour.

In September, tranquillity was so generally restored that it was judged safe to disband such troops as still remained in service. The leniency which had been shown towards the insurrectionists was the only safe course. The sentiment of the people was with them, and at the general election the ensuing year, all who had been active against them lost their votes. Hancock was elected governor in the place of Bowdoin.

It had long been felt that the Articles of Confederation were insufficient for the growing national exigencies. As early as 1782 it was recommended to form a convention for their revision and amendment. Great care had been taken in framing the original articles that no power should be delegated which might endanger the liberties of the individual states. Congress had no authority to enforce its own ordinances; and now, when the external danger was removed by peace, they were, as we have seen, disregarded and contemned also. It was evident to all that a more energetic form of government was required. In 1783, John Adams, then in Europe, suggested to congress the expediency of strengthening the general government. On a motion of Madison, in a convention of the delegates from five of the Middle States met at Annapolis in 1786, it was concluded that nothing short of a thorough reform of the existing government would be effectual for the welfare of the country. Congress approved, and passed a resolution recommending a general convention of delegates for that purpose to be held at Philadelphia.

Before, however, we proceed to the important business of this convention, we must notice a few facts which mark the progress of opinion in the States. In 1784, soon after the treaty of peace was signed, Franklin received overtures from the pope’s nuncio at Paris, relative to the appointment of a vicar apostolic for the United States. Congress being referred to, replied that the business was of a spiritual nature and did not fall under their cognisance. John Carroll, of Maryland, was soon afterwards consecrated archbishop of the United States. Catholics, though still suffering under political disabilities in some of the states, had freedom of worship everywhere, and very soon a Catholic church was opened even in the puritan city of Boston.

The Church of England in America, which suffered much during the war, reorganised herself after the peace, and became established on a reformed basis. The title of lord bishop, and all other titles descriptive of temporal power and presidency, were dropped, and the clergy and dignitaries of the church declared liable to deposition from office in case of misconduct, by the state and general conventions. The liturgy was purged and modified to suit a republican country. The English bishops demurred at these innovations, but there was no remedy; and in 1787, White of Philadelphia, and Madison of Virginia, together with Seabury, who had been ordained by the episcopal Church of Scotland, were consecrated bishops, and formed the nucleus of episcopal authority in America.[[60]]

In 1784, Thomas Coke, one of Wesley’s ablest coadjutors, and ordained by him bishop, arrived at New York, bringing with him Wesley’s plan for the organisation of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Methodism was now wanted in America; it was the element of religious excitement, which the temper of the times required, and it spread rapidly, especially among the poorer classes of the Southern States. It commenced by excluding slaveholders from its communion; but as God suffers his sun to shine on the just and unjust alike, methodism opened its pale to sinners of every description. The zeal of the Methodists aroused the somewhat slumbering energies of the Baptists, and religious revivals commenced, especially in the Middle and the Southern States. They were the safety-valves in many cases for the excited and agitated popular mind. The Presbyterians, as the Episcopalians had done, reorganised their church on a national basis. In New England, by that necessary law of reaction which never fails, latitudinarianism had followed the sternness of the puritan creed, and made its way with the learned, while universalism was adopted by the less educated.[[61]]

CHAPTER XV.
FORMATION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION.

In May, 1787, the convention met for the revision of the Articles of Confederation, twelve states being represented by men distinguished by their talents, character, practical abilities, and public service. Franklin, who had been among the first to propose a Colonial Union in 1754, was there; Dickinson, as delegate from Delaware; Johnson, of Connecticut; and Rutledge, of South Carolina, who had been movers in the Stamp Act Congress of 1765. Besides Benjamin Franklin, there were present seven who had signed the Declaration of Independence, all tried men and true; while the revolutionary army was represented by Washington, Mifflin, Hamilton and Pinckney; eighteen were members at the same time of the Continental Congress. Altogether this important convention numbered about fifty delegates. Rhode Island sent no representative.[[62]]

On the 29th of May the business of the convention was opened by Randolph of Virginia, this honour being conceded to Virginia as her due, the idea of the convention having originated with her. All the business, however, proceeded with closed doors and an injunction of inviolate secrecy. The members were not even allowed to take copies of the proceedings. They had met to revise and amend the Articles of Confederation, instead of which it was soon deemed advisable to form a new constitution. Long and arduous debates followed; months went on in discussion and deliberation; the soundness and wisdom of purely democratic and republican governments were questioned; committees sat; adjournments took place; causes of dispute occurred; rival parties contended, federalists and anti-federalists; slaveholding and free states, difficulties having arisen even then between the slaveholding and the non-slaveholding states as regarded representation, and every other interest. But if doubt and difficulty and discord arose, they were met and overcome. Nor can any greater argument be advanced in favour of the sound wisdom and the true patriotism of every party, than that all opposing interests and all questions of contention were gradually compromised; and spite of every opposing element, spite of selfish interests, and the jealousies and rivalries of opposing parties, a rough draft of the proposed Constitution was prepared by the beginning of August, and forms, in fact, the present Constitution of the United States. It is simply as follows, and well worthy to be read and considered.

We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.