The English were fully cognizant of this state of affairs. "We look on America as at our feet," wrote Horace Walpole, in 1780, to Mann.
"Poorly clothed, badly fed, and worse paid," said General Wayne in 1780, "some of them not having had a paper dollar for nearly twelve months; exposed to winter's piercing cold, to drifting snows and chilling blasts, with no protection but old worn-out coats, tattered linen overalls, and but one blanket between three men! In this situation, the enemy begin to work upon their passions, and have found means to circulate proclamations among them. The officers in general, as well as myself, stand for hours every day exposed to wind and weather among the poor naked fellows while they are working at their huts, assisting with our own hands, sharing every vicissitude in common with them, participating in their ration of bread and water. The delicate mind and eye of humanity are hurt—very much hurt—at their distress."
These were the trials to which the soldiers of the American Revolution were subjected, and which those who endured to the end bore without murmuring; for no stress of suffering could wring from their brave hearts a word of injury to the cause for which they suffered!
May the honors now so gladly awarded to those brave men, by those descended from them, never be given by inadvertence or mistake to the caitiff host that forsook their commander in his dark hour!
The army that bore the sufferings of which so many have written was a small one. Few armies have ever shown a nobler self-devotion than that which remained with Washington through the dreary winter at Valley Forge, but the conscientious historian must not give honor equally to them and the mighty host of the American people who had no sympathy with the movement. Washington himself wrote, Dec. 30, 1778, "If I were called upon to draw a picture of the times and of the men from what I have seen, heard, and part know, I should in one word say that idleness, dissipation, and extravagance seem to have laid fast hold upon them; that speculation, peculation and an insatiable thirst for riches seem to have got the better of every other consideration—that party disputes and quarrels are the great business of the day; whilst the momentous concerns of an empire, a great and accumulating debt, ruined finances, depreciated money, and want of credit—which in its consequence is want of everything—are but of secondary consideration."
Under these circumstances the nobility and beauty of the character of Washington can indeed hardly be surpassed. "He commanded," says Lecky, "a perpetually fluctuating army, almost wholly destitute of discipline and respect for authority, torn by the most violent personal and provincial jealousies, wretchedly armed, wretchedly clothed, and sometimes in danger of starvation. Unsupported for the most part by the population among whom he was quartered, and incessantly thwarted by Congress, he kept his army together by a combination of skill, firmness, patience, and judgment which has rarely been surpassed, and he led it at last to a signal triumph."
But while he thus held his army discontent, distrust, suspicion,—the train which inevitably follows failure,—possessed the minds of the people and embittered the hearts of those who were striving to serve them. The leaders were blamed for the misfortunes of the time, their ability doubted, their patriotism suspected.
Thus hampered and trammelled, weak, sick at heart, America stretched out appealing hands to France.