What conclusion must we draw from these facts? That it would seem that republican manners had been anterior in the United States to the constitution itself. The laws of Congress have only ratified, so to speak, that which already existed.
General Washington frequently appears in the recital of M. Blanchard, who sometimes had personal relations with him. Even at that time, in the eyes of all who knew him, the commander-in-chief of the American troops was a great man. No one doubted that this judgment of his contemporaries would be ratified by posterity. At the close of the first interview of our generals with Washington, M. Blanchard writes:
"A gracious and noble air, broad and upright views, the art of making himself beloved—these points in his character were observed by all of us who saw him. It is his extraordinary ability that has defended the liberty of America, and if she one day enjoys freedom, it will be to him she will owe it."
In a note; "I wrote the above in 1780. The Americans are indebted for their success to the courage of Washington, to his love for his country, and to his prudence. He never committed an error, and was never discouraged. In the midst of successes as well as in reverses, he was ever calm and undisturbed, always self-possessed, and his personal qualities have kept more soldiers in the American army, and procured more adherents to the cause of liberty, than the enactments of Congress."
There is, I think, something to blame in this judgment, where there is evidently a tendency to personify a cause in a single man—a tendency so prevalent among us.
An American dinner in the tent of Washington is thus described:
"On the 29th, (June, 1781,) I mounted my horse to look at the barracks in which an American regiment had been quartered during the winter at Fishkill Landing. My intention was to establish a hospital there. On the way I met General Washington, who, having recognized me, stopped and invited me to dine with him that day at three o'clock. I went. There were twenty-five covers laid. The guests were officers of his army, besides the lady of the house in which the general was stopping. We dined in a tent. The general placed me beside him; one of the aides-de-camp did the honors. The dinner was served in the American style, and every thing was in abundance. There were vegetables, roast-beef, lamb, chicken, salad, pudding, and a pie—a kind of tart very much in use in England and among the Americans; and all was served together. They gave on the same plate, meat, vegetables, and salad, (which was eaten without dressing except vinegar.) When dinner was over, the cloth being removed, Madeira wine was passed round, and they drank the health of the King of France, the army, etc. The general made apologies for the reception he had given me; to which I replied that I had enjoyed myself very much in his company, as I did everywhere in America, which I liked much better than Corsica, where I had been for many years. He then told me that the English papers announced that the Corsicans were about to rise in rebellion. I replied that I did not believe it; that the Corsicans were not dangerous, and besides, that Paoli was not General Washington. The countenance of the general has something grave and serious about it; but it is never severe. On the contrary, it is gentle, and usually wears a pleasant smile. He is affable, and talks in a familiar and lively manner with his officers. I forgot to mention that at the beginning of the meal a clergyman who was present asked a blessing, and at its close returned thanks. I knew that General Washington was accustomed to say grace himself when he had no clergyman at the table, as is the custom of the heads of families in America; the idea being that a general in the midst of his army is as the father of a family."
Here is a last quotation, in which we see the American general at a very critical period of his career:
"On the 24th and 25th, (August, 1781,) the troops finished crossing the North River. The passage was a tedious one, as the river was wide, and they were obliged to cross it on boats and rafts, which had been brought together in great numbers. On the 25th, I went myself to the place, and saw many troops cross with their baggage. General Washington was there. They had arranged a sort of observatory for him, whence he superintended every thing with close attention. He seemed to see in this passage, in the march of our troops toward Chesapeake Bay, and in our junction with M. de Grasse—he seemed, I say, to see the dawn of a better destiny for America, which, at that stage of the war, with her resources exhausted, had need of some great success to raise her courage and her hopes. He shook my hand with much emotion when he quitted us, and crossed the river himself. It was about two o'clock. He immediately joined his army, which marched the next morning.
"Note.—The event justified his anticipations; for the taking of Yorktown, after our junction with M. de Grasse, did much toward bringing about peace, and the acknowledgment of American independence."[300]
As for General Rochambeau, wisely chosen by Louis XVI. himself to command this expedition undertaken under such peculiar circumstances, he made the French character appear in his own person in the noblest light. The Americans, before his arrival, imbued with English prejudices—prejudices often justified in the eighteenth century—against the light tone and reputed affectation of our young nobility, were prepared to find the French general (as several of them afterward confessed) a mere courtier, opposed to their ideas and customs, and with whom their relations would be constrained, in consequence of difference of character. They saw, on the contrary, a type of our old France, who seemed formed on the same model as their own leading men, loving justice, seeking good, worthy and dignified.
"He has served well in America," wrote our commissary, "and has given a favorable idea of our nation. They pictured to themselves a French fop, and they found a thoughtful and dignified gentleman. 'Your general is very self-possessed,' said an American who dined beside me, and who observed the moderation with which General Rochambeau responded to the numerous toasts proposed, and which were drunk as they went round by all present. He has given many other proofs of moderation and wisdom."