After so many and so painful efforts the day of victory at last arrived for General Washington and for his country. Alternations of success and reverse had marked the commencement of the campaign of 1781. Lord Cornwallis, who commanded the English armies in the South, was occupying Virginia with considerable forces, when Washington, who had been able to conceal his designs from Sir Henry Clinton, while deceiving even his own lieutenants, passed through Philadelphia on the 4th of September, and advanced against the enemy by forced marches. The latter had been for a long time harassed by the little army of M. de la Fayette. Lord Cornwallis hastened to Yorktown. On the 30th of September the place was invested.
It was insufficiently or badly fortified, and the English troops were fatigued by a rough campaign. "This place is not in a condition to defend itself," Lord Cornwallis had said to Sir Henry Clinton, before the blockade was complete; "if you cannot come to my aid soon, you must expect the worst news." The besiegers, on the contrary, were animated by a zeal which even increased to emulation. The French and the Americans rivaled each other in ardor; the soldiers refused to take any rest; the trench was open since the 6th of October. On the 10th the town was cannonaded; on the 14th an American column, commanded by M. de la Fayette and Colonel Hamilton, attacked one of the forts which protected the approaches. It was some time since Hamilton had ceased to form part of Washington's staff, in consequence of a momentary ill-temper of the general's which was keenly resented by his sensitive and fiery lieutenant. The reciprocal attachment which even to their last day united these two illustrious men had suffered nothing from their separation. The French attacked the second fort under the command of Baron de Viomesnil, the Viscount de Noailles, and the Marquis de St. Simon, who, being sick, was carried at the head of his regiment. The resistance of the English was heroic, but almost at the same instant the flag of the Union floated over the two outposts. When the attacking columns joined each other beyond the walls, the French had made five hundred prisoners. All defence became impossible. Lord Cornwallis vainly attempted to escape; he was reduced, on the 17th of October, to sign a capitulation more humiliating than that of Burgoyne at Saratoga. Eight thousand men laid down their arms, and the English vessels which were at Yorktown and Gloucester were given up to the conquerors. Lord Cornwallis was ill with regret and fatigue. General O'Hara, who took his place, tendered his sword to the Count de Rochambeau. The latter took a step back. "I am only an auxiliary," he said, in a loud voice. The hatred which sundered the ancient compatriots, now become enemies, was profound and bitter. "I remarked," said M. de Rochambeau's chaplain, "that the English officers in laying down their arms and in passing by our lines courteously saluted the lowest French officer, while they refused that mark of politeness to American officers of the highest rank."
"In receiving the sword of the English general, Washington had secured the pledge of his country's independence. England felt it. 'Lord North received the news of the capitulation like a bullet full in the chest,' related Lord George Germaine, colonial secretary of state. He stretched out his arms without being able to say anything but 'My God, all is lost!' and he repeated this several times while striding up and down the room."
At a quite recent date, and on receipt of a private letter from M. Necker, who proposed a truce which should leave the two belligerents on American soil in possession of the territories which they occupied, King George III. had exclaimed: "The independence of the colonies is inadmissible, under its true name or disguised under the appearance of a truce." The catastrophe which consternated his ministers and his people did not, however, shake the obstinate constancy and sincere resolve of the king. "None of the members of the cabinet," he immediately wrote, "will suppose, I take it for granted, that this event can modify in anything the principles which have hitherto guided me, and which shall continue to inspire my conduct in the struggle." Only one slight indication betrayed the monarch's agitation. Contrary to his habit, he had omitted to date his letter.
Repeated checks had overtaken the English arms at other points. Embroiled with Holland, where the Republican party had got the better of the stadtholder, who was devoted to them, the English had carried war into the Dutch colonies. Admiral Rodney had taken St. Eustache, the centre of an immense commerce; he had pillaged the warehouses and loaded his vessels with an enormous mass of merchandise. The convoy which was carrying a part of the spoils to England was captured by Admiral de la Motte-Piquet; M. de Bouillé surprised the English garrison left at St. Eustache and restored the island into the hands of the Dutch. The latter had just sustained, with brilliancy, near Dogger Bank, their ancient maritime reputation. "Officers and men all have fought like lions," said Admiral Zouthemann. The firing had not commenced until the moment that the two fleets found themselves within gunshot. "It is evident after this," said a contemporary, "that the nations which fight with the most ardor are those who have an interest in not fighting at all." The vessels on both sides had suffered severe damages; they were scarcely in a seaworthy state. The glory and the losses were equal, but the English Admiral, Hyde Parker, was annoyed and discontented. King George III. came to visit on board his ship. "I wish your Majesty had younger sailors and younger ships," he said; "as for me, I am too old for the service," and he persisted in giving in his resignation. This was the only action of the Dutch during the war. [Having] Become insolent in their prosperity and riches, they justified the judgment passed on them some years later: "Holland could pay all the armies of Europe; she could not face any of them." They left to Admiral de Kersaint the care of recovering from the English their colonies of Demerara, Essequibo, and Berbice, on the coast of Guiana, as to the Bailiff de Suffren the duty of protecting the Cape of Good Hope. A little Franco-Spanish army at the same time besieged Minorca. The fleet was considerable. The English had neglected their preparations, and Colonel Murray was obliged to shut himself up in Fort St. Philip. In the mean time operations had miscarried, and the Duke de Crillon, who was in command of the besieging troops, wearied of the blockade and proposed to the commandant to deliver the place to him. The offers were magnificent; the Scotch officer answered indignantly, "M. le Duc, when the king his master ordered your brave ancestor to assassinate the Duke de Guise, he replied to Henry III., 'Honor forbids me.' You should have made the same reply to the King of Spain when he charged you to assassinate the honor of a man as well-born as the Duke de Guise or as yourself. I do not wish to have other relations with you than those of arms." Crillon understood the reproach. "Your letter," wrote he to the proud Scotchman, "has placed us both in the situation that suits us; it has increased my esteem for you. I accept your last proposition with pleasure." He himself directed the assaults, mounting the breach first. When Murray capitulated, on the 4th of February, 1782, the fortress contained only a handful of soldiers, so wasted by fatigues and privations that "the Spaniards and French shed tears on seeing them file between their ranks."
This was the last blow to the ministry of Lord North, which had long been tottering on its base. It had been sought to consolidate it by adding to it, as chancellor, Lord Thurlow, distinguished by his eloquence even at this era of great judges; already, however, less esteemed than several of his illustrious rivals. So many efforts and sacrifices eventuating in so many disasters wearied and irritated the nation. "Great God!" exclaimed Burke, "is it still a time to speak to us of the rights that we sustain in this war? O excellent rights! Precious they should be, for they have cost us dear! O precious rights! which have cost Great Britain thirteen provinces, four islands, a hundred thousand men, and more than ten millions sterling! O admirable rights! which have cost Great Britain her empire on the ocean, and that superiority so vaunted which made all nations bow before her! O inestimable rights! which have taken away our rank in the world, our importance abroad, and our happiness at home; which have destroyed our commerce and our manufactures, which have reduced us from the most flourishing empire in the world to a state curtailed and without greatness! Precious rights! which will doubtless cost us what remains to us!" The discussion became more and more bitter. Sincerely concerned for the public weal. Lord North vainly sought to influence the king to change his ministry. George III., as sincere as his minister, and of a narrow and obstinate mind, was meditating withdrawing to Hanover if the concessions which Lord Rockingham exacted were repugnant to his conscience. Already the negotiation had several times been broken off. The chancellor poured forth a torrent of curses. "Lord Rockingham," said he, "carries things to that point that it would be necessary for the king's head or his own to remain there in order to decide which of the two shall govern the country."