His courageous work in the South greatly helped the American cause. (From painting in possession of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.)
What is a revolution but an overturning, a spinning of the wheel, left to right, and bottom come uppermost? Likewise, since the right believes itself right, and the top is sure that the world exists in order that it may be the top, most revolutions mean force, arms, big guns booming, troops marching, bullets flying, heads cut off with axes or caught in a hangman’s noose; also arms and legs cut off, and the ground soaked with a crimson fluid. “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs,” and in a revolution there is bound to be breakage of heads and hearts, and banks and constitutions.
We know that the American Revolution was a military contest, because the pictures in our first textbook of American history show General George Washington, in buff and blue, leading his Continentals up to within sixteen feet and eight inches of General Howe, in a magnificent red coat laced with gold, in vain trying to rally battalions of craven Hessians wearing highly inconvenient bearskin caps.
THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT
Commanding officers of opposing armies are not really so intimate as that; but Americans are justified in immense pride over the military success of the Revolution. The simple fact was that three million people, of whom about a fourth were negro slaves, put up a fight against a mother country having four times their population. They began without a single professional officer, except the traitor Charles Lee; and with only a thousand or two men who had not seen military service except militia training day, and desultory frontier warfare with French and Indians. They had not one ship of war, not a factory of arms. Yet they attacked the great British empire,—though it was flanked right and left by the lion and the unicorn, trained by two centuries of European wars, thousands of troops under arms, officers successful in other fields,—and they sailed into the greatest naval power on the sea.
So far as power and prestige and experience decide wars in advance, the Revolution was due to be snuffed out at the end of 1776; Benjamin Franklin was destined to be hanged, George Washington to be immured for life in a gloomy dungeon, dressed in a ball and chain. Were not the English everywhere successful? They captured New York, they captured Newport, they captured Philadelphia, they captured Savannah; they were driven away from Charleston by the palmetto forts, but returned and captured Richmond. They beat the Americans at Long Island, at the Brandywine, at Germantown, at Camden. Their cruisers and privateers swept the seas, until Nathaniel Tracy of Newburyport lost ninety of his hundred and twenty vessels. They drove the little American navy from the seas.
Yet in the end they were beaten. It is easy now to criticize the strategy of Washington and Greene and the rest, and to show that by all the laws of war they laid themselves open to defeat. Nothing can alter the stubborn fact that the American militia at Bunker Hill for hours held off a British army and so damaged it that it never took the field again; then the Americans captured Burgoyne’s army at Saratoga in 1777, a humiliation seldom known in British annals. And this victory brought the French alliance, and the aid of Von Steuben the magnificent drill master, of d’Estaing and his fleet, of Rochambeau and his army. With that aid, the Americans beat the second army at Yorktown, and that ended the war. General Cornwallis had to surrender his sword to an officer whom a few months before the British had addressed as “George Washington, Esq., etc., etc.”
SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA