[14] In the spring of 1776 Lee had written to Edward Rutledge: “By the eternal God! If you do not declare yourselves independent, you deserve to be slaves!” In several such letters Lee had fairly bellowed for independence.
[15] Things seemed to be getting into somewhat the condition contemplated in the satirical print of “The Man in the Moon,” which appeared as frontispiece to a tract published in London in 1776, entitled “A Plea of the Colonies on the Charges brought against them by Lord Mansfield and others.” The Man in the Moon is George III. looking through a telescope held by his Tory chief justice, whose sleeve shows the Scotch plaid of Clan Murray. He looks upon a reversed and topsy-turvy world, in which New York (whose true latitude is nearly the same as that of Naples) appears farther north than London, and America is east of Europe. The American coast is covered with vast armies, and the whole British fleet is on its way thither, leaving England exposed to the attack of a French host gathered at Dunkirk. Meanwhile the Gallic cock crows lustily, and the sketchy outline of Great Britain indicates that the artist supposes the island “may be so far wasted before the year 1800, that people will hardly know where the nation resided that was once so formidable.” See Tracts 985, Harvard University Library.
[16] “This episode appears to me the most criminal in the whole reign of George III., and in my own judgment it is as criminal as any of those acts which led Charles I. to the scaffold.” Lecky, History of England in the Eighteenth Century, vol. iv. p. 83.
[17] As usual in such cases, there is a great diversity of testimony as to what was said. In my first edition I gave the familiar story of which there is a meagre version in Bancroft and a much fuller one in Irving: “What is the meaning of all this?” etc.; but I suspect that story is much too literary. It is not likely that any such conversation occurred at such a moment. A young sergeant, Jacob Morton, was standing close by when Washington met Lee. This Morton, who afterward became a major, was noted for accuracy and precision of statement. In 1840 he gave his account of the affair to Mr. Harrison Robertson, of Charlottesville, Virginia; and in 1895 Mr. Robertson kindly wrote out for me his recollection of that account. According to Morton, Washington simply shouted, “My God! General Lee, what are you about?” This has the earmark of truth. Another account, traceable to Lafayette and likewise probable, says that as Washington swept furiously past and away, he ejaculated with bitter emphasis, “Damned poltroon!”
[18] Such was Steuben’s own testimony on the court-martial. Lee was so enraged by it as to make reflections upon Steuben which presently called forth a challenge from that gentleman. (Lee Papers, iii. 96, 253.) It is to be regretted that we have not the reply in which Lee declined the encounter. There is a reference to it in a letter from Alexander Hamilton to Baron von Steuben, a fortnight after the challenge: “I have read your letter to Lee with pleasure. It was conceived in terms which the offence merited, and, if he had any feeling, must have been felt by him. Considering the pointedness and severity of your expressions, his answer was certainly a very modest one, and proved that he had not a violent appetite for so close a tête-à-tête as you seemed disposed to insist upon. His evasions, if known to the world, would do him very little honour.” Upon what grounds Lee refused to fight with Steuben, it is hard to surmise; for within another week we find him engaged in a duel with Colonel Laurens, as will presently be mentioned in the text.
[19] Washington’s Writings, ed. Ford, vii. 90.
[20] “I never saw the General to so much advantage.... A general rout, dismay, and disgrace would have attended the whole army in any other hands but his. By his own good sense and fortitude he turned the fate of the day.... He did not hug himself at a distance, and leave an Arnold to win laurels for him; but by his own presence he brought order out of confusion, animated his troops, and led them to success."—Hamilton to Boudinot, 5 July, 1778. Observe the well-timed sneer at Gates. Boudinot answers, “The General I always revered and loved ever since I knew him, but in this instance he rose superior to himself. Every lip dwells on his praise, for even his pretended friends (for none dare to acknowledge themselves his enemies) are obliged to croak it forth."—Boudinot to Hamilton, 8 July, 1778.
[21] He has been sometimes described incorrectly as a half-breed, and even as a son of Sir William Johnson. His father was a Mohawk, of the Wolf clan, and son of one of the five chiefs who visited the court of Queen Anne in 1710. The name is sometimes wrongly written “Brandt.” The Indian name is pronounced as if written “Thayendanauga,” with accent on penult. Brant was not a sachem. His eminence was personal, not official. See Morgan, League of the Iroquois, p. 103.
[22] It has been shown that on this occasion Thayendanegea did what he could to restrain the ferocity of his savage followers. See Stone’s Life of Brant, i. 379-381. It has more lately been proved that Thayendanegea commanded only his own Mohawks at Cherry Valley, and the atrocities were committed chiefly by Senecas under the command of Sayenqueraghta. See Molly Brant’s letter in Hayden’s The Massacre of Wyoming, Wilkes-Barré, 1895, p. xxiv.
[23] Cannon were wheeled on the solid ice from Staten Island to the city. See Stone’s Life of Brant, ii. 54.