Great Events in the History of North and South America

by Charles A. Goodrich

The serious consideration of congress was given to the overture, and on the 17th of June, their answer was returned. In substance it was, that they would be ready to enter upon the consideration of peace and commerce, not inconsistent with treaties already subsisting, when the king of Great Britain should demonstrate a sincere disposition for that purpose; of which no other proof could be admitted but that of an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, or the withdrawal of his fleets and armies.

Thus terminated the negotiation. America, steady to her purpose, would not listen to any proposal which did not involve the recognition of her independence. Great Britain was yet too proud to accede to such terms, and consequently, the idea of accommodation was abandoned, and the most vigorous measures were adopted to wage war against her ancient ally and her disobedient child, whose fortunes had now become linked together.

It may be added in this place, that, subsequent to the failure of the commissioners in effecting the object of their mission, commenced a system of intrigue with several distinguished persons, and especially with members of congress, to whom one at least addressed confidential letters, with the hope of winning them to the royal cause. Some of these letters and propositions at length were made public. General Reed, a member of congress, stated that a proposition had been made to him by Johnstone, through a lady, that if he would promote the rëunion of the two countries, he should have any office in the colonies which he might name. His reply was worthy of a Christian and a patriot: "I am not worth purchasing; but such as I am, the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it."

4. BATTLE OF MONMOUTH.

During the winter of 1777-8, the British army had occupied Philadelphia; the winter-quarters of the American army were at Valley Forge. On the opening of the spring, in consequence of the alliance of France and America, orders were issued to the British general to evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate the royal force in the city and harbor of New York. In pursuance of this resolution, the royal army, now under command of Sir Henry Clinton—General Howe having returned to England—left Philadelphia, and on the 18th of June, passed the Delaware into New Jersey.

Washington immediately quitted his camp, and hung upon the British army, watching a favorable opportunity to offer battle. On the 27th, the British army encamped on some high grounds in the neighborhood of Freehold court-house, in the county of Monmouth.

On the morning of the 28th, General Lee was ordered to take command of five thousand men, and commence the attack.

At first, he declined the honor; but judging, on reflection, that such a procedure would redound to his discredit, he now sought the command at the hands of Lafayette, to whom, on his declining it, it had been tendered.

Lee immediately put his troops in motion for the plain of Monmouth, some four or five miles distant. On approaching it, the British were already in motion. The army was in advance of the baggage-train, which covered miles in extent. The morning was clear, and the sun poured down his heat so fervidly, as seemingly to cause all nature to faint. Before noon, the mercury of the thermometer reached ninety-six. Man and beast panted for breath. The sand-plain became parched as an oven, and water was needed at almost every step. The sufferings of men and horses early became nearly insupportable.

Moreover, it was the Sabbath—that day when the hum of life is ordinarily hushed, and when men are commonly with their families in the house of God. We may pause, we trust, to say, that that Sabbath, and the God of that Sabbath, would have been more honored—nor do we believe that the patriot cause would have suffered in the sequel—had Washington, instead of sending out a hostile corps—had he and his troops spent it in paying divine honors to the God of our fathers. It had been still better, could hostile armies have that day grounded their arms, and of that plain made a sanctuary, and there, in the exercise of that friendship and love which the gospel enjoins, worshiped together at a common altar, and before a common Father. But the latter was not to be expected—perhaps, not the former. Other thoughts were occupying those bosoms, and a far different spectacle was that day to be witnessed. Let us not judge severely. We will hope that the honor of God did animate those sons of the Pilgrims. We know that they were true patriots, and that they were fighting for their altars and their firesides. Nor is it to be doubted that they would have preferred the calm and delightful worship of God, with their families, in the sanctuaries of their own quiet villages. But they were summoned to the field of battle, and here, now, we find them soon employed amid scenes of carnage and death.