Sir Henry Clinton, the Commander-in-Chief, was fat and short. Punctilious with his officers, formal,—even distant, in his manners—he was not one to inspire enthusiasm. His face was full, his nose was large and prominent, and although an expression of animated intelligence at times pervaded his countenance, still he lacked the rare ability to inspire confidence and conviction. He was simply in command because favoritism had placed him there; he was a drawing-room general.
On a crisp day in November, General Clinton and Lord Carlisle were surveying the landscape from the drawing-room of the Beekman mansion, which was a beautiful seat of revolutionary times, and the chosen country residence of the British Commander.
The blue waters of the bay were whipped into white waves as the nor’east gale swept over the water. The energy of the wind broke forth in sparkling waves upon the bosom of the harbor and Sir Henry explained to Lord Carlisle how the commerce of the new continent would center in this haven that was now controlled by his British forces. He gestured confidently as he maintained that the admiralty had a base in New York harbor from which to fit out its men-of-war and carry on the conflict in any direction.
In the midst of his laborious arguments Sir Henry exclaimed:
“My Lord, there comes one of our forty-four-gun frigates! Zounds! She’s standing right up to the inner anchorage. She may be a messenger from our War Lord, Germaine.”
Sir Henry took up his spying-glass and stepped out upon the portico to see what ship it might be.
Lord Carlisle walked back and forth impatiently, while Sir Henry closely watched the movements of the ship.
These two men differed in their plans for the conduct of the war. Lord Carlisle wished to offer a proclamation to the Colonists, openly conceding everything that the people demanded except absolute independence. But Sir Henry chafed under this means of procedure. He saw that such a course implied the failure of the military to deal with the problem of subduing the Americans. He contended that a decisive stroke must be made by the army before any terms should be offered the rebellious Colonists.
Carlisle spoke impatiently when the ship was looming up in full view:
“I hope that Germaine has sent Barclugh with definite instructions as to our course. We are losing valuable time and opportunity here by reason of our inactivity.”