CHAPTER XI
PEACE
The news of Cornwallis's surrender was received with consternation in Great Britain. The King declared that he would abdicate rather than acknowledge the independence of the United States, Lord North resigned, Lord Germaine was dismissed, and Sir Henry Clinton was superseded in command of the army by Sir Guy Carleton.
ON SIR HENRY CLINTON'S RECALL
[May, 1782]
The dog that is beat has a right to complain—
Sir Harry returns, a disconsolate swain,
To the face of his master, the devil's anointed,
To the country provided for thieves disappointed.
Our freedom, he thought, to a tyrant must fall:
He concluded the weakest must go to the wall.
The more he was flatter'd, the bolder he grew:
He quitted the old world to conquer the new.
But in spite of the deeds he has done in his garrison
(And they have been curious beyond all comparison),
He now must go home, at the call of his king,
To answer the charges that Arnold may bring.
But what are the acts which this chief has achieved?
If good, it is hard he should now be aggrieved:
And the more, as he fought for his national glory,
Nor valued, a farthing, the right of the story.
This famous great man, and [two birds of his feather],
In the Cerberus frigate came over together:
But of all the bold chiefs that remeasure the trip,
Not two have been known to return in one ship.
Like children that wrestle and scuffle in sport,
They are very well pleased as long as unhurt;
But a thump on the nose, or a blow in the eye,
Ends the fray; and they go to their daddy and cry.
Sir Clinton, thy deeds have been mighty and many!
You said all our paper was not worth a penny:
('Tis nothing but rags, quoth honest Will Tryon:
Are rags to discourage the sons of the lion?)
But Clinton thought thus: "It is folly to fight,
When things may by easier methods come right:
There is such an art as counterfeit-ation,
And I'll do my utmost to honor our nation:
"I'll show this damn'd country that I can enslave her,
And that by the help of a skilful engraver;
And then let the rebels take care of their bacon;
We'll play 'em a trick, or I'm vastly mistaken."
But the project succeeded not quite to your liking;
So you paid off your artist, and gave up bill-striking:
But 'tis an affair I am glad you are quit on:
You had surely been hang'd had you tried it in Britain.
At the taking of Charlestown you cut a great figure,
The terms you propounded were terms full of rigor,
Yet could not foresee [poor Charley's] disgrace,
Nor how soon your own colors would go to the case.
When the town had surrender'd, the more to disgrace ye
(Like another true Briton that did it at 'Statia),
You broke all the terms yourself had extended,
Because you supposed the rebellion was ended.
Whoever the Tories mark'd out as a Whig,
If gentle, or simple, or little, or big,
No matter to you—to kill 'em and spite 'em,
You soon had 'em up where the dogs couldn't bite 'em.
Then, thinking these rebels were snug and secure,
You left them to Rawdon and Nesbit Balfour
(The face of the latter no mask need be draw'd on,
And to fish for the devil, my bait should be Rawdon).
Returning to York with your ships and your plunder,
And boasting that rebels must shortly knock under,
The first thing that struck you as soon as you landed
Was the fortress at West Point where Arnold commanded.
Thought you, "If friend Arnold this fort will deliver,
We then shall be masters of all Hudson's river;
The east and the south losing communication,
The Yankees will die by the act of starvation."
So off you sent André (not guided by Pallas),
Who soon purchased Arnold, and with him the gallows;
Your loss, I conceive, than your gain was far greater,
You lost a good fellow and got a damn'd traitor.
Now Carleton comes over to give you relief;
A knight, like yourself, and commander-in-chief;
But the chief he will get, you may tell the dear honey,
Will be a black eye, hard knocks, and no money.
Now, with "Britons, strike home!" your sorrows dispel;
Away to your master, and honestly tell,
That his arms and his artists can nothing avail;
His men are too few, and his tricks are too stale.
Advise him, at length to be just and sincere,
Of which not a symptom as yet doth appear;
As we plainly perceive from his sending Sir Guy,
Commission'd to steal, and commission'd to lie.
Freeman's Journal, May 22, 1782.
George III also declared that he would retain the cities of New York and Charleston at all hazards, but it was soon out of his power to retain Charleston, at least. General Leslie, in command there, found himself in dire straits for supplies, and on December 14, 1782, evacuated the city and sailed away for Halifax.
ON THE DEPARTURE OF THE BRITISH FROM CHARLESTON
[December 14, 1782]
His triumphs of a moment done;
His race of desolation run,
The Briton, yielding to his fears,
To other shores with sorrow steers:
To other shores—and coarser climes
He goes, reflecting on his crimes,
His broken oaths, Hayne],
And blood of thousands, spilt in vain.
To Cooper's stream, advancing slow,
Ashley no longer tells his woe,
No longer mourns his limpid flood
Discolor'd deep with human blood.
Lo! where those social streams combine
Again the friends of Freedom join;
And, while they stray where once they bled,
Rejoice to find their tyrants fled,
Since memory paints that dismal day
When British squadrons held the sway,
And circling close on every side,
By sea and land retreat deny'd—
Shall she recall that mournful scene,
And not the virtues of a Greene,
Who great in war—in danger try'd,
Has won the day, and crush'd their pride.
Through barren wastes and ravag'd lands
He led his bold undaunted bands,
Through sickly climes his standard bore
Where never army marched before:
By fortitude, with patience join'd
(The virtues of a noble mind),
He spread, where'er our wars are known,
His country's honor and his own.
Like Hercules, his generous plan
Was to redress the wrongs of men;
Like him, accustom'd to subdue,
He freed a world from monsters too.
Through every want and every ill
We saw him persevering still,
Through Autumn's damps and Summer's heat,
Till his great purpose was complete.
Like the bold eagle, from the skies
That stoops, to seize his trembling prize,
He darted on the slaves of kings
At Camden heights and Eutaw Springs.
Ah! had our friends that led the fray
Surviv'd the ruins of that day,
We should not damp our joy with pain,
Nor, sympathizing, now complain.
Strange! that of those who nobly dare
Death always claims so large a share,
That those of virtue most refin'd
Are soonest to the grave consign'd!—
But fame is theirs—and future days
On pillar'd brass shall tell their praise;
Shall tell—when cold neglect is dead—
"These for their country fought and bled."
Philip Freneau.
However the King might froth and bluster, it was evident that he was beaten. He was forced to bow to the inevitable, and on December 5, 1782, in his speech at the opening of Parliament, he recommended that peace be made with the colonies in America, and that they be declared free and independent.
ON THE BRITISH KING'S SPEECH
RECOMMENDING PEACE WITH THE AMERICAN STATES
[December 5, 1782]
Grown sick of war, and war's alarms,
Good George has changed his note at last—
Conquest and death have lost their charms;
He and his nation stand aghast,
To think what fearful lengths they've gone,
And what a brink they stand upon.
Old Bute and North, twin sons of hell,
If you advised him to retreat
Before our vanquished thousands fell,
Prostrate, submissive at his feet:
Awake once more his latent flame,
And bid us yield you all you claim.
The Macedonian wept and sighed
Because no other world was found
Where he might glut his rage and pride,
And by its ruin be renowned;
The world that Sawney wished to view
George fairly had—and lost it too!
Let jarring powers make war or peace,
Monster!—no peace can greet your breast!
Our murdered friends can never cease
To hover round and break your rest!
The Furies will your bosom tear,
Remorse, distraction, and despair
And hell, with all its fiends, be there!
Cursed be the ship that e'er sets sail
Hence, freighted for your odious shore;
May tempests o'er her strength prevail,
Destruction round her roar!
May Nature all her aids deny,
The sun refuse his light,
The needle from its object fly,
No star appear by night:
Till the base pilot, conscious of his crime,
Directs the prow to some more Christian clime.
Genius! that first our race designed,
To other kings impart
The finer feelings of the mind,
The virtues of the heart;
Whene'er the honors of a throne
Fall to the bloody and the base,
Like Britain's tyrant, pull them down,
Like his, be their disgrace!
Hibernia, seize each native right!
Neptune, exclude him from the main;
Like her that sunk with all her freight,
The Royal George, take all his fleet,
And never let them rise again;
Confine him to his gloomy isle,
Let Scotland rule her half,
Spare him to curse his fate awhile,
[And Whitehead], thou to write his epitaph.
Philip Freneau.
ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782
O Thou, that sendest out the man
To rule by land and sea,
Strong mother of a Lion-line,
Be proud of those strong sons of thine
Who wrench'd their rights from thee!
What wonder if in noble heat
Those men thine arms withstood,
Retaught the lesson thou had'st taught,
And in thy spirit with thee fought,—
Who sprang from English blood!
But thou rejoice with liberal joy,
Lift up thy rocky face,
And shatter, when the storms are black,
In many a streaming torrent back,
The seas that shock thy base!
Whatever harmonies of law
The growing world assume,
Thy work is thine—the single note
From that deep chord which Hampden smote
Will vibrate to the doom.
Alfred Tennyson.
A preliminary treaty of peace was finally agreed upon. Carleton received orders to evacuate New York, and on October 18, 1783, Congress issued a general order disbanding the American army.
ON DISBANDING THE ARMY
[October 18, 1783]
Ye brave Columbian bands! a long farewell!
Well have ye fought for freedom—nobly done
Your martial task—the meed immortal won—
And Time's last records shall your triumphs tell.
Once friendship made their cup of suff'rings sweet—
The dregs how bitter, now those bands must part!
Ah! never, never more on earth to meet;
Distill'd from gall that inundates the heart,
What tears from heroes' eyes are seen to start!
Ye, too, farewell, who fell in fields of gore,
And chang'd tempestuous toil for rest serene;
Soon shall we join you on the peaceful shore
(Though gulfs irremeable roll between),
Thither by death-tides borne, as ye full soon have been.
David Humphreys.
November 25 was fixed upon as the date for the evacuation of New York. Early on that day, Carleton got his troops on shipboard, and by the middle of the afternoon the city was in the hands of the Americans. The song which is given below was composed for and sung upon this occasion.
EVACUATION OF NEW YORK BY THE BRITISH
[November 25, 1783]
They come!—they come!—the heroes come
With sounding fife, with thundering drum;
Their ranks advance in bright array,—
The heroes of America!
He comes!—'tis mighty Washington
(Words fail to tell all he has done),
Our hero, guardian, father, friend!
His fame can never, never end.
He comes!—he comes!—our Clinton comes!
Justice her ancient seat resumes:
From shore to shore let shouts resound,
For Justice comes, with Freedom crown'd.
She comes!—the angelic virgin—Peace,
And bids stern War his horrors cease;
Oh! blooming virgin, with us stay,
And bless, oh! bless America.
Since Freedom has our efforts crown'd,
Let flowing bumpers pass around:
The toast is, "Freedom's favorite son,
Health, peace, and joy to Washington!"
On Thursday, December 4, the principal officers of the army assembled at Fraunce's Tavern to take a final leave of their beloved chief. A few days later, at Annapolis, Washington resigned his commission, and betook himself to the quiet of his estate at Mount Vernon.
OCCASIONED BY GENERAL WASHINGTON'S ARRIVAL IN PHILADELPHIA, ON HIS WAY TO HIS RESIDENCE IN VIRGINIA
[December, 1783]
The great unequal conflict past,
The Briton banished from our shore,
Peace, heaven-descended, comes at last,
And hostile nations rage no more;
From fields of death the weary swain
Returning, seeks his native plain.
In every vale she smiles serene,
Freedom's bright stars more radiant rise,
New charms she adds to every scene,
Her brighter sun illumes our skies.
Remotest realms admiring stand,
And hail the Hero of our land:
He comes!—the Genius of these lands—
Fame's thousand tongues his worth confess,
Who conquer'd with his suffering bands,
And grew immortal by distress:
Thus calms succeed the stormy blast,
And valor is repaid at last.
O Washington!—thrice glorious name,
What due rewards can man decree—
Empires are far below thy aim,
And sceptres have no charms for thee;
Virtue alone has your regard,
And she must be your great reward.
Encircled by extorted power,
Monarchs must envy your Retreat
Who cast, in some ill-fated hour,
Their country's freedom at their feet;
'Twas yours to act a nobler part,
For injur'd Freedom had your heart.
For ravag'd realms and conquer'd seas
Rome gave the great imperial prize,
And, swell'd with pride, for feats like these,
Transferr'd her heroes to the skies:—
A brighter scene your deeds display,
You gain those heights a different way.
When Faction rear'd her bristly head,
And join'd with tyrants to destroy,
Where'er you march'd the monster fled,
Timorous her arrows to employ:
Hosts catch'd from you a bolder flame,
And despots trembled at your name.
Ere war's dread horrors ceas'd to reign,
What leader could your place supply?—
Chiefs crowded to the embattled plain,
Prepar'd to conquer or to die—
Heroes arose—but none, like you,
Could save our lives and freedom too.
In swelling verse let kings be read,
And princes shine in polish'd prose;
Without such aid your triumphs spread
Where'er the convex ocean flows,
To Indian worlds by seas embrac'd,
And Tartar, tyrant of the waste.
Throughout the east you gain applause,
And soon the Old World, taught by you,
Shall blush to own her barbarous laws,
Shall learn instruction from the New.
Monarchs shall hear the humble plea,
Nor urge too far the proud decree.
Despising pomp and vain parade,
At home you stay, while France and Spain
The secret, ardent wish convey'd,
And hail'd you to their shores in vain:
In Vernon's groves you shun the throne,
Admir'd by kings, but seen by none.
Your fame, thus spread to distant lands,
May envy's fiercest blasts endure,
Like Egypt's pyramids it stands,
Built on a basis more secure;
Time's latest age shall own in you
The patriot and the statesman too.
Now hurrying from the busy scene,
Where thy Potowmack's waters flow,
May'st thou enjoy thy rural reign,
And every earthly blessing know;
[Thus he], who Rome's proud legions sway'd,
Return'd, and sought his sylvan shade.
Not less in wisdom than in war
Freedom shall still employ your mind,
Slavery must vanish, wide and far,
Till not a trace is left behind;
Your counsels not bestow'd in vain,
Shall still protect this infant reign.
So, when the bright, all-cheering sun
From our contracted view retires,
Though folly deems his race is run,
On other worlds he lights his fires:
Cold climes beneath his influence glow,
And frozen rivers learn to flow.
O say, thou great, exalted name!
What Muse can boast of equal lays,
Thy worth disdains all vulgar fame,
Transcends the noblest poet's praise.
Art soars, unequal to the flight,
And genius sickens at the height.
For States redeem'd—our western reign
Restor'd by thee to milder sway,
Thy conscious glory shall remain
When this great globe is swept away
And all is lost that pride admires,
And all the pageant scene expires.
Philip Freneau.
Early in January, word reached America that the definite treaty of peace had been signed at Paris on November 30, 1783. The independence of the United States was acknowledged; the Mississippi was set as the western boundary of the country, the St. Croix and the Great Lakes as the northern, and the Gulf of Mexico as the southern. On January 14, 1784, this treaty was ratified by Congress.
THE AMERICAN SOLDIER'S HYMN
'Tis God that girds our armor on,
And all our just designs fulfils;
Through Him our feet can swiftly run,
And nimbly climb the steepest hills.
Lessons of war from Him we take,
And manly weapons learn to wield;
Strong bows of steel with ease we break,
Forced by our stronger arms to yield.
'Tis God that still supports our right,
His just revenge our foes pursues;
'Tis He that with resistless might,
Fierce nations to His power subdues.
Our universal safeguard He!
From Whom our lasting honors flow;
He made us great, and set us free
From our remorseless bloody foe.
Therefore to celebrate His fame,
Our grateful voice to Heaven we'll raise;
And nations, strangers to His name,
Shall thus be taught to sing His praise.
A day of solemn thanksgiving was set apart and universally observed throughout the country, which set its face toward the future, with a heart full of hope and high resolve.
THANKSGIVING HYMN
The Lord above, in tender love,
Hath sav'd us from our foes;
Through Washington the thing is done,
The war is at a close.
America has won the day,
Through Washington, our chief;
Come let's rejoice with heart and voice,
And bid adieu to grief.
Now we have peace, and may increase
In number, wealth, and arts,
If every one, like Washington,
Will strive to do their parts.
Then let's agree, since we are free,
All needless things to shun;
And lay aside all pomp and pride,
Like our great Washington.
Use industry, and frugal be,
Like Washington the brave;
So shall we see, 'twill easy be,
Our country for to save,
From present wars and future foes,
And all that we may fear;
While Washington, the great brave one,
Shall as our chief appear.
Industry and frugality
Will all our taxes pay;
In virtuous ways, we'll spend our days,
And for our rulers pray.
The Thirteen States, united sets,
In Congress simply grand;
The Lord himself preserve their health,
That they may rule the land.
Whilst every State, without its mate,
Doth rule itself by laws,
Will sovereign be, and always free;
To grieve there is no cause.
But all should try, both low and high,
Our freedom to maintain;
Pray God to bless our grand Congress,
And cease from every sin.
Then sure am I, true liberty
Of every sort will thrive;
With one accord we'll praise the Lord,
All glory to Him give.
To whom all praise is due always,
For He is all in all;
George Washington, that noble one,
On His great name doth call.
Our Congress too, before they do,
Acknowledge Him supreme;
Come let us all before Him fall,
And glorify His name.
LAND OF THE WILFUL GOSPEL[6]
From "Psalm of the West"
Land of the Wilful Gospel, thou worst and thou best;
Tall Adam of lands, new-made of the dust of the West;
Thou wroughtest alone in the Garden of God, unblest
Till He fashioned lithe Freedom to lie for thine Eve on thy breast—
Till out of thy heart's dear neighborhood, out of thy side,
He fashioned an intimate Sweet one and brought thee a Bride.
Cry hail! nor bewail that the wound of her coming was wide.
Lo, Freedom reached forth where the world as an apple hung red;
Let us taste the whole radiant round of it, gayly she said:
If we die, at the worst we shall lie as the first of the dead.
Knowledge of Good and of Ill, O Land! she hath given thee;
Perilous godhoods of choosing have rent thee and riven thee;
Will's high adoring to Ill's low exploring hath driven thee—
Freedom, thy Wife, hath uplifted thy life and clean shriven thee!
Her shalt thou clasp for a balm to the scars of thy breast,
Her shalt thou kiss for a calm to thy wars of unrest,
Her shalt extol in the psalm of the soul of the West.
For Weakness, in freedom, grows stronger than Strength with a chain;
And Error, in freedom, will come to lamenting his stain,
Till freely repenting he whiten his spirit again;
And Friendship, in freedom, will blot out the bounding of race;
And straight Law, in freedom, will curve to the rounding of grace;
And Fashion, in freedom, will die of the lie in her face.
Sidney Lanier.
PART III
THE PERIOD OF GROWTH
"OH MOTHER OF A MIGHTY RACE"
Oh mother of a mighty race,
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames, thy haughty peers,
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.
For on thy cheeks the glow is spread
That tints thy morning hills with red;
Thy step—the wild deer's rustling feet
Within thy woods are not more fleet;
Thy hopeful eye
Is bright as thine own sunny sky.
Ay, let them rail—those haughty ones,
While safe thou dwellest with thy sons.
They do not know how loved thou art,
How many a fond and fearless heart
Would rise to throw
Its life between thee and the foe.
They know not, in their hate and pride,
What virtues with thy children bide;
How true, how good, thy graceful maids
Make bright, like flowers, the valley-shades;
What generous men
Spring, like thine oaks, by hill and glen;—
What cordial welcomes greet the guest
By thy lone rivers of the West;
How faith is kept, and truth revered,
And man is loved, and God is feared,
In woodland homes,
And where the ocean border foams.
There's freedom at thy gates and rest
For earth's down-trodden and opprest,
A shelter for the hunted head,
For the starved laborer toil and bread.
Power, at thy bounds,
Stops and calls back his baffled hounds.
Oh, fair young mother! on thy brow
Shall sit a nobler grace than now.
Deep in the brightness of the skies
The thronging years in glory rise,
And, as they fleet,
Drop strength and riches at thy feet.
William Cullen Bryant.