The good people of the Quaker city had just heard of Greene's successes in the South. The popular feeling showed itself in the rousing welcome they gave to the "ragged Continentals" and to the finely dressed French troops, as the combined forces marched hurriedly through the streets. The drums and fifes played "The White Cockade and the Peacock's Feather"; everywhere the stars and stripes were flung to the breeze; and ladies threw flowers from the windows.
"Long live Washington!" shouted the people, as the dusty soldiers marched by in a column nearly two miles long.
"He has gone to catch Cornwallis in his mouse trap!" shouted the crowd, in great glee.
Even the self-possessed Washington was a trifle nervous. Galloping ahead to Chester on his favorite charger, Nelson, he sent back word that De Grasse had arrived in Chesapeake Bay.
By rapid marches, the combined armies reached the head of the Bay on September 6. From this point, most of the men were carried in transports to the scene of action. In another week, an army of more than sixteen thousand men was closing round Cornwallis.
Soon after his arrival, Washington, accompanied by Rochambeau, Knox, Hamilton, and others, made a formal call on Admiral De Grasse on board his flagship, the famous ship of the line, Ville de Paris, then at anchor in Hampton Roads.
When Washington reached the quarter-deck, the little French admiral ran to embrace his guest, and kissed him on each cheek, after the French fashion.
"My dear little general!" he exclaimed, hugging him.
Now when the excited admiral stood on tiptoe to embrace the majestic Washington, and began to call him "petit," or "little," the scene was ludicrous. The French officers politely turned aside; but it was too much for General Knox, who was a big, jolly man. He simply forgot his politeness, and laughed aloud until his sides shook.