The draught was to be submitted to Cornwallis, but Washington, resolved to admit of no delay, directed the articles to be transcribed; and, on the morning of the 19th, sent them to his lordship, with a letter expressing his expectation that they would be signed by 11 and that the garrison would march out at 2 in the afternoon. [4] Finding that no better terms could be obtained, Cornwallis submitted to a painful necessity, and, on the 19th of October, surrendered the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester point to the combined armies of America and France, on condition that his troops should receive the same honors of war which had been granted to the garrison of Charleston when it surrendered to Sir Henry Clinton. The army, artillery, arms, accoutrements, military chest, and public stores of every description were surrendered to Washington; the ships in the harbor and the seamen to Count de Grasse.

Cornwallis wished to obtain permission for his European troops to return home, on condition of not serving against America, France, or their allies during the war, but this was refused, and it was agreed that they should remain prisoners of war in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, accompanied by a due proportion of officers for their protection and government. The British general was also desirous of securing from punishment such Americans as had joined the royal standard, but this was refused, on the plea that it was a point which belonged to the civil authority and on which the military power was not competent to decide. But the end was gained in an indirect way, for Cornwallis was permitted to send the Bonetta sloop-of-war unsearched to New York, with dispatches to the Commander-in-Chief and to put on board as many soldiers as he thought proper, to be accounted for in any subsequent exchange. This was understood to be a tacit permission to send off the most obnoxious of the Americans, which was accordingly done.

The officers and soldiers were allowed to retain their private property. Such officers as were not required to remain with the troops were permitted to return to Europe or to reside in any part of America not in possession of the British troops.

Dr. Thacher, who was present during the whole siege, thus describes the surrender: "At about 12 o'clock the combined army was arranged and drawn up in two lines, extending more than a mile in length. The Americans were drawn up in a line on the right side of the road, and the French occupied the left. At the head of the former the great American commander, mounted on his noble courser, took his station, attended by his aides. At the head of the latter was posted the excellent Count Rochambeau and his suite. The French troops, in complete uniform, displayed a noble and martial appearance; their band of music, of which the timbrel formed a part, is a delightful novelty, and produced, while marching to the ground, a most enchanting effect. The Americans, though not all in uniform nor their dress so neat, yet exhibited an erect, soldierly air and every countenance beamed with satisfaction and joy. The concourse of spectators from the country was prodigious, in point of numbers nearly equal to the military, but universal silence and order prevailed. It was about 2 o'clock when the captive army advanced through the line formed for their reception. Every eye was prepared to gaze on Lord Cornwallis, the object of peculiar interest and solicitude, but he disappointed our anxious expectations. Pretending indisposition, he made General O'Hara his substitute as the leader of his army. This officer was followed by the conquered troops in a slow and solemn step, with shouldered arms, colors cased, and drums beating a British march. Having arrived at the head of the line, General O'Hara, elegantly mounted, advanced to his Excellency, the Commander-in-Chief, taking off his hat and apologizing for the nonappearance of Earl Cornwallis. With his usual dignity and politeness, his Excellency pointed to Major-General Lincoln for directions, by whom the British army was conducted into a spacious field, where it was intended they should ground their arms. The royal troops, while marching through the line formed by the allied army, exhibited a decent and neat appearance as respects arms and clothing, for their commander opened his store and directed every soldier to be furnished with a new suit complete prior to the capitulation. But in their line of march we remarked a disorderly and unsoldierlike conduct; their step was irregular and their ranks frequently broken. But it was in the field, when they came to the last act of the drama, that the spirit and pride of the British soldier was put to the severest test. Here their mortification could not be concealed. Some of the platoon officers appeared to be exceedingly chagrined when giving the word, 'Ground arms!' and I am a witness that they performed this duty in a very unofficerlike manner and that many of the soldiers manifested a sullen temper, throwing their arms on the pile with violence, as if determined to render them useless. This irregularity, however, was checked by the authority of General Lincoln. After having grounded their arms and divested themselves of their accoutrements, the captive troops were conducted back to Yorktown and guarded by our troops until they could be conducted to the place of their destination."

Congress bestowed its thanks freely and fully upon the Commander-in-Chief, Count de Rochambeau, Count de Grasse, and the various officers of the different corps, and the brave soldiers under their command. Two stands of colors, trophies of war, were voted to Washington and two pieces of cannon to Rochambeau and de Grasse, and it was also voted that a marble column to commemorate the alliance and the victory should be erected in Yorktown. On the day after the surrender the general orders closed as follows: "Divine service shall be performed tomorrow in the different brigades and divisions. The Commander-in-Chief recommends that all the troops that are not upon duty do assist at it with a serious deportment and that sensibility of heart which the recollection of the surprising and particular interposition of Providence in our favor claims." A proclamation was also issued by Congress appointing the 13th of December as a day of thanksgiving and prayer, on account of this signal and manifest favor of Divine Providence in behalf of our country.

The news of Cornwallis' surrender was received throughout the country with the most tumultuous expressions of joy. The worthy New England Puritans considered it, as Cromwell did the victory at Worcester, "the crowning mercy." It promised them a return of peace and prosperity. The people of the middle States regarded it as a guarantee for their speedy deliverance from the presence of a hated enemy. But to the southern States it was more than this. It was the retributive justice of Heaven against a band of cruel and remorseless murderers and robbers, who had spread desolation and sorrow through their once happy homes. It is asserted in Gordon's "History of the War" that wherever Cornwallis' army marched the dwelling-houses were plundered of everything that could be carried off. The stables of Virginia were plundered of the horses on which his cavalry rode in their ravaging march through that State. Millions of property, in tobacco and other merchandise and in private houses and public buildings, were destroyed by Arnold, Philips, and Cornwallis in Virginia alone. The very horse which Tarleton had the impudence to ride on the day of the surrender was stolen from a planter's stable, who recognized it on the field and compelled Tarleton to give it up and mount a sorry hack for the occasion.

It was computed at the time that 1,400 widows were made by the war in the single district of Ninety-Six. The whole devastation occasioned by the British army, during six months previous to the surrender at Yorktown, amounted to not less than L3,000,000 sterling, an immense loss for so short a time, falling, as it did, chiefly on the rural population. No wonder that they assembled in crowds to witness the humiliation of Cornwallis and his army. To them it was not only a triumph, but a great deliverance. Well might the Virginians triumph. The return of their favorite commander, a son of the soil, had speedily released their State from ravage and destruction and restored them to comparative peace and repose.

On the very day of Cornwallis' surrender, Clinton sailed from New York with reinforcements. He had been perfectly aware of Cornwallis' extreme peril and was anxious to relieve him, but the fleet had sustained considerable damage in the battle with de Grasse and some time was necessarily spent in repairing it. During that interval four ships-of-the-line arrived from Europe and two from the West Indies. At length Clinton embarked with 7,000 of his best troops, but was unable to sail from Sandy Hook till the 19th (1781), the day on which Cornwallis surrendered. The fleet, consisting of twenty-five ships-of- the-line, two vessels of fifty guns each, and eight frigates, arrived off the Chesapeake on the 24th (October, 1781), when Clinton had the mortification to be informed of the event of the 19th. He remained on the coast, however, till the 29th, when, every doubt being removed concerning the capitulation of Cornwallis, whose relief was the sole object of the expedition, he returned to New York.

While Clinton continued off the Chesapeake, the French fleet, consisting of thirty-six sail-of-the-line, satisfied with the advantage already gained, lay at anchor in the bay without making any movement whatever.

Washington, considering the present a favorable opportunity for following up his success by an expedition against the British army in Charleston, wrote a letter to Count de Grasse on the day after the capitulation, requesting him to unite his fleet to the proposed armament and assist in the expedition. He even went on board the admiral's fleet to thank him for his late services in the siege and to urge upon him the feasibility and importance of this plan of operations. But the orders of his court, ulterior projects, and his engagements with the Spaniards put it out of the power of the French admiral to continue so long in America as was required. He, however, remained some days in the bay in order to cover the embarkation of the troops and of the ordnance to be conveyed by water to the head of the Elk. [5]

Some brigades proceeded by land to join their companions at that place. Some cavalry marched to join General Greene, but the French troops, under Count Rochambeau, remained in Virginia to be in readiness to march to the south or north, as the circumstances of the next campaign might require. On the 27th the troops of St. Simon began to embark, in order to return to the West Indies, and early in November Count de Grasse sailed for that quarter.

Part of the prisoners were sent to Winchester in Virginia and Fredericktown, Maryland, the remainder to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Lord Cornwallis and the principal officers were paroled and sailed for New York. During their stay at Yorktown, after the surrender, they received the most delicate attentions from the conquerors. Dr. Thacher, in his "Military Journal," notices particularly some of these attentions: "Lord Cornwallis and his officers," he says, "since their capitulation, have received all the civilities and hospitality which is in the power of their conquerors to bestow. General Washington, Count Rochambeau, and other general officers have frequently invited them to entertainments, and they have expressed their grateful acknowledgments in return. They cannot avoid feeling the striking contrast between the treatment which they now experience and that which they have bestowed on our prisoners who have unfortunately fallen into their hands. It is a dictate of humanity and benevolence, after sheathing the sword, to relieve and meliorate the condition of the vanquished prisoner.

"On one occasion, while in the presence of General Washington, Lord Cornwallis was standing with his head uncovered. His Excellency said to him, politely, 'My lord, you had better be covered from the cold.' His lordship, applying his hand to his head, replied, 'It matters not, sir, what becomes of this head now.'" The reader will not have failed to notice that the capture of Cornwallis was effected solely by the able and judicious strategy of Washington. It was he that collected from different parts of the country the forces that were necessary to enclose that commander and his hitherto victorious army as it were in a net, from which there was no possibility of escape. It was he who, by personal influence and exertion, brought de Grasse to renounce his expected triumphs at sea and zealously assist in the siege by preventing Cornwallis from receiving any aid from British naval forces. It was he who detained de Grasse at a critical moment of the siege, when he was anxious to go off with the chief part of his force and engage the British at sea. In short, it was he who provided all, oversaw all, directed all, and having, by prudence and forethought, as well as by activity and perseverance, brought all the elements of conquest together, combined them into one mighty effort with glorious success. It was the second siege on a grand scale which had been brought to a brilliant and fortunate conclusion by the wisdom and prudence as well as the courage and perseverance of Washington. In the first he expelled the enemy and recovered Boston uninjured, freeing the soil for a time from the presence of the enemy. In the second, he captured the most renowned and successful British army in America and dictated his own terms of surrender to a commander who, from his marquee, had recently given law to three States of the Union.

1. Footnote: Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, has an entry: "July 7th. Our army was drawn up in a line and reviewed by General Rochambeau, with his Excellency, General Washington, and other general officers.—July 10th. Another review took place in presence of the French ambassador from Philadelphia, after which the French army passed a review in presence of the general officers of both armies." Speaking of the French army, Dr. Thacher says: "In the officers we recognize the accomplished gentlemen, free and affable in their manners. Their military dress and side-arms are elegant. The troops are under the strictest discipline, and are amply provided with arms and accoutrements, which are kept in the neatest order. They are in complete uniform—coats of white broadcloth, trimmed with green, and white under-dress, and on their heads they wear a singular kind of hat or chapeau. It is unlike our cocked hats, in having but two corners instead of three, which gives them a very novel appearance."

2. Footnote: The amount was $20,000 in specie, to be refunded by Robert Morris on the 1st of October. On the 31st of August, Dr. Thacher says: "Colonel Laurens arrived at headquarters, camp, Trenton, on his way from Boston to Philadelphia. He brought two and a half millions of livres in cash, a part of the French subsidy,—a most seasonable supply, as the troops were discontented and almost mutinous for want of pay."

3. Footnote: Lafayette (letter to Washington, 16th October, 1781) says "Your Excellency having personally seen our dispositions, I shall only give you an account of what passed in the execution. Colonel Gimat's battalion led the van, and was followed by that of Colonel Hamilton, who commanded the whole advanced corps. At the same time a party of eighty men, under Colonel Laurens, turned the redoubt. I beg leave to refer your Excellency to the report I have received from Colonel Hamilton, whose well-known talents and gallantry were, on this occasion, most conspicuous and serviceable. Our obligations to him, to Colonel Gimat, to Colonel

[missing footnote text]

4. Footnote: The whole number of prisoners, exclusive of seamen, was over 7,000, and the British loss during the siege was between five and six hundred. The army of the allies consisted of 7,000 American regular troops, upward of 5,000 French, and 4,000 militia. The loss in killed and wounded was about 300. The captured property consisted of a large train of artillery—viz., 75 brass and 69 iron cannon, howitzers, and mortars; also a large quantity of arms, ammunition, military stores, and provisions fell to the Americans. One frigate, 2 ships of twenty guns each, a number of transports and other vessels, and 1,500 seamen were surrendered to de Grasse.

5. Footnote: On his departure, the Count de Grasse received from Washington a present of two elegant horses as a token of his friendship and esteem.



CHAPTER XXIV.

CLOSE OF THE WAR. 1782-1783.

After the surrender of Cornwallis, the combined forces were distributed in different parts of the country, in the manner we have described at the close of the last chapter. Having personally superintended the distribution of the ordnance and stores, and the departure of the prisoners as well as the embarkation of the troops, who were to go northward under General Lincoln, Washington left Yorktown on the 5th of November (1781) for Eltham, the seat of his friend, Colonel Basset. He arrived there the same day, but he came to a house of mourning. His stepson, John Parke Custis, was just expiring when he reached the house. Washington was just in time to be present, with Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Custis, her daughter-in-law, at the last painful moment of the young man's departure to the world of spirits. Mr. Custis had been an object of peculiar affection and care to Washington, who had superintended his education and introduction to public life. He had entered King's college in New York, in 1773, but soon after left that institution and married the daughter of Mr. Benedict Calvert, February 3, 1774. He had passed the winter of 1775 at headquarters in Cambridge with his wife and Mrs. Washington. He had subsequently been elected a member of the House of Burgesses of Virginia, in which office he acquitted himself with honor, and he was now cut off on the very threshold of life being only twenty-eight years of age at the time of his decease. He left a widow and four young children. The two youngest of these children, one less than two and the other four years old, were adopted by Washington, and thenceforward formed a part of his immediate family. During the last year of Mr. Custis' life, Washington, writing to General Greene, took occasion to cite a passage from his correspondence. He says, "I have received a letter from Mr. Custis, dated the 29th ultimo (March, 1781), in which are these words: 'General Greene has by his conduct gained universal esteem, and possesses, in the fullest degree, the confidence of all ranks of people.'" He had just then returned from the Assembly at Richmond. Washington remained for several days at Eltham to comfort the family in their severe affliction, and then proceeded to Mount Vernon, where he arrived on the 13th of November. From this home of his early affections he wrote to Lafayette on the 15th (1781), accounting for his not having joined him in Philadelphia, by the pressure of private and public duties. In this letter, ever attentive to the interests of his country, Washington expresses his views with respect to the next campaign; and as Lafayette, after the expedition with de Grasse to the South was abandoned, had determined to pass the winter in France, Washington takes occasion in this letter to impress upon his mind the absolute necessity of a strong naval force in order to conduct the next campaign to a successful termination. In concluding his letter, Washington says: "If I should be deprived of the pleasure of a personal interview with you before your departure, permit me to adopt this method of making you a tender of my ardent vows for a prosperous voyage, a gracious reception from your prince, an honorable reward for your services, a happy meeting with your lady and friends, and a safe return in the spring to, my dear marquis, your affectionate friend, etc.—

"WASHINGTON."

Washington had given Lafayette leave to proceed to Philadelphia, where he obtained from Congress permission to visit his family in France for such a period as he should think proper. Congress at the same time passed resolutions doing justice to the zeal and military conduct of Lafayette. Among them were the following:

"Resolved, that the Secretary of Foreign Affairs acquaint the ministers plenipotentiary of the United States, that it is the desire of Congress that they confer with the Marquis de Lafayette, and avail themselves of his information relative to the affairs of the United States.

"Resolved, that the Secretary of Foreign Affairs further acquaint the minister plenipotentiary at the court of Versailles, that he will conform to the intention of Congress by consulting with and employing the assistance of the Marquis de Lafayette in accelerating the supplies which may be afforded by his most Christian majesty for the use of the United States."

Lafayette was also commended by Congress to the notice of Louis XVI in very warm terms. Having received his instructions from Congress and completed his preparations, he went to Boston, where the American frigate Alliance awaited his arrival. His farewell letter to Congress is dated on board this vessel, December 23, 1781, and immediately after writing it he set sail for his native country.

Before proceeding to Philadelphia Washington visited Alexandria, where he was honored with a public reception and an address from a committee of the citizens, in replying to which he was careful to remind them, when referring to the late success at Yorktown, that "a vigorous prosecution of this success would, in all probability," procure peace, liberty, and independence. He also visited Annapolis, where the Legislature was in session. A vote of thanks was passed by that body (22d November, 1781), and in replying to it Washington also reminded the legislators of Maryland that the war was by no means finished, and that further exertions were required to be made by the States.

The splendid success of the allied arms in Virginia, and the great advantages obtained still further south, produced no disposition in Washington to relax those exertions which might yet be necessary to secure the great object of the contest. "I shall attempt to stimulate Congress," said he in a letter to General Greene, written at Mount Vernon, "to the best improvement of our late success, by taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an early and decisive campaign the next year. My greatest fear is that viewing this stroke in a point of light which may too much magnify its importance they may think our work too nearly closed and fall into a state of languor and relaxation. To prevent this error I shall employ every means in my power, and, if unhappily we sink into this fatal mistake, no part of the blame shall be mine."

On the 27th of November (1781) Washington reached Philadelphia, and Congress passed a resolution granting him an audience on the succeeding day. On his appearance the President addressed him in a short speech, informing him that a committee was appointed to state the requisitions to be made for the proper establishment of the army, and expressing the expectation that he would remain in Philadelphia, in order to aid the consultations on that important subject.

The Secretary of War, the financier, Robert Morris, and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Robert R. Livingston, assisted at these deliberations, and the business was concluded with unusual celerity.

A revenue was scarcely less necessary than an army, and it was obvious that the means for carrying on the war must be obtained either by impressments or by a vigorous course of taxation. But both these alternatives depended on the States, and the government of the Union resorted to the influence of Washington in aid of its requisitions.

But no exertions on the part of America alone could expel the invading army. A superiority at sea was indispensable to the success of offensive operations against the posts which the British still held within the United States. To obtain this superiority Washington pressed its importance on the Chevalier de la Luzerne, the minister of France, and commanding officers of the French troops, as he had on Lafayette when he was about to return to his native country.

The first intelligence from Europe was far from being conciliatory. The Parliament of Great Britain reassembled in November (1781). The speech from the throne breathed a settled purpose to continue the war, and the addresses from both houses, which were carried by large majorities, echoed the sentiment.

In the course of the animated debates which these addresses occasioned, an intention was indeed avowed by some members of the administration to direct the whole force of the nation against France and Spain, and to suspend offensive operations in the interior of the United States until the strength of those powers should be broken. In the meantime the posts then occupied by their troops were to be maintained.

This development of the views of the administration furnished additional motives to the American government for exerting all the faculties of the nation to expel the British garrisons from New York and Charleston. The efforts of Washington to produce these exertions were earnest and unremitting, but not successful. The State Legislatures declared the inability of their constituents to pay taxes. Instead of filling the Continental treasury some were devising means to draw money from it, and some of those which passed bills imposing heavy taxes directed that the demands of the State should be first satisfied, and that the residue only should be paid to the Continental receiver. By the unwearied attention and judicious arrangements of Robert Morris, the minister of finance, the expenses of the nation had been greatly reduced. The bank established in Philadelphia, and his own high character, had enabled him to support in some degree a system of credit, the advantages of which were incalculably great. He had, through the Chevalier de la Luzerne, obtained permission from the King of France to draw for half a million of livres monthly, until 6,000,000 should be received. To prevent the diversion of any part of this sum from the most essential objects, he had concealed the negotiation even from Congress, and had communicated it only to Washington; yet after receiving the first installment it was discovered that Dr. Franklin had anticipated the residue of the loan and had appropriated it to the purposes of the United States. At the commencement of the year 1782 not a dollar remained in the treasury, and although Congress had required the payment of 2,000,000 on the 1st of April not a cent had been received on the 23d of that month, and so late as the 1st of June (1782) not more than $20,000 had reached the treasury. Yet to Robert Morris every eye was turned, to him the empty hand of every public creditor was stretched for, and against him, instead of the State governments, the complaints and imprecations of every unsatisfied claimant were directed. In July (1782), when the second quarter annual payment of taxes ought to have been received, Morris was informed by some of his agents, that the collection of the revenue had been postponed in some of the States, in consequence of which the month of December would arrive before any money could come into the hands of the Continental receivers. In a letter communicating this unpleasant intelligence to Washington, he added: "With such gloomy prospects as this letter affords I am tied here to be baited by continual clamorous demands; and for the forfeiture of all that is valuable in life, and which I hoped at this moment to enjoy, I am to be paid by invective. Scarce a day passes in which I am not tempted to give back into the hands of Congress the power they have delegated, and to lay down a burden which presses me to the earth. Nothing prevents me but a knowledge of the difficulties I am obliged to struggle under. What may be the success of my efforts God only knows, but to leave my post at present would, I know, be ruinous. This candid state of my situation and feelings I give to your bosom, because you, who have already felt and suffered so much, will be able to sympathize with me."

Fortunately for the United States the temper of the British nation on the subject of continuing the war did not accord with that of its Sovereign. That war, into which the people had entered with at least as much eagerness as the minister, had become almost universally unpopular. Motions against the measures of administration respecting America were repeated by the opposition, and, on every experiment, the strength of the minority increased. At length, on the 27th of February (1782), General Conway moved in the House of Commons, "that it is the opinion of this house that a further prosecution of offensive war against America would, under present circumstances, be the means of weakening the efforts of this country against her European enemies, and tend to increase the mutual enmity so fatal to the interests both of Great Britain and America." The whole force of administration was exerted to get rid of this resolution, but was exerted in vain, and it was carried. An address to the King, in the words of the resolution, was immediately voted, and was presented by the whole house. The answer of the Crown being deemed inexplicit it was, on the 4th of March (1782), resolved "that the house will consider as enemies to his Majesty and the country, all those who should advise or attempt a further prosecution of offensive war on the continent of North America."

These votes were soon followed by a change of ministers and by instructions to the officers commanding the forces in America, which conformed to them.

While Washington was employed in addressing circular letters to the State governments, suggesting all those motives which might stimulate them to exertions better proportioned to the exigency, English papers, containing the debates in Parliament on the various propositions respecting America, reached the United States. Alarmed at the impression these debates might make, he introduced the opinions it was deemed prudent to inculcate respecting them into the letters he was then about to transmit to the Governors of the several States. "I have perused these debates," he said, "with great attention and care, with a view, if possible, to penetrate their real design, and upon the most mature deliberation I can bestow I am obliged to declare it as my candid opinion that the measure, in all its views, so far as it respects America, is merely delusory, having no serious intention to admit our independence upon its true principles, but is calculated to produce a change of ministers to quiet the minds of their own people and reconcile them to a continuance of the war, while it is meant to amuse this country with a false idea of peace, to draw us from our connection with France, and to lull us into a state of security and inactivity; which taking place, the ministry will be left to prosecute the war in other parts of the world with greater vigor and effect. Your Excellency will permit me on this occasion to observe that, even if the nation and Parliament are really in earnest to obtain peace with America, it will undoubtedly be wisdom in us to meet them with great caution and circumspection, and by all means to keep our arms firm in our hands, and instead of relaxing one iota in our exertions, rather to spring forward with redoubled vigor, that we may take the advantage of every favorable opportunity until our wishes are fully obtained. No nation yet suffered in treaty by preparing (even in the moment of negotiation) most vigorously for the field.

"The industry which the enemy is using to propagate their pacific reports appears to me a circumstance very suspicious, and the eagerness with which the people, as I am informed, are catching at them, is, in my opinion, equally dangerous."

While Washington was still residing at Philadelphia, in conference with the committees of Congress, a spirited naval action took place near the capes of the Delaware, which must have afforded him much gratification.

The Delaware bay was, at this period, says Peterson, [1] infested with small cruisers of the enemy, which not only captured the river craft, but molested the neighboring shores. To repress these marauders, the State of Pennsylvania determined to fit out a vessel or two at its own expense, and with this view a small merchant ship, called the Hyder All, then lying outward-bound with a cargo of flour, was purchased. It took but a few days to discharge her freight, to pierce her for sixteen guns, and to provide her with an armament. Volunteers flocked to offer themselves for her crew. The command was given to Barney, and, at the head of a convoy of outward-bound merchantmen, he stood down the bay, and anchored, on the 8th of April (1782), in the roads off Cape May, where he awaited a proper wind for the traders to go to sea. Suddenly two ships and a brig, one of the former a frigate, were seen rounding the cape, obviously with the intention of attacking him, on which he signaled the convoy to stand up the bay, the wind being at the southward, himself covering their rear, and the enemy in hot pursuit.

In order to head off the fugitives, the frigate took one channel and her consorts the other, the ship and brig choosing that which the Hyder Ali had selected. The brig, being a very fast vessel, soon overhauled Barney, but, contenting herself with giving him a broadside as she passed, pressed on in pursuit of the convoy. The Hyder Ali declined to return this fire, holding herself in reserve for the ship, a sloop-of-war mounting twenty guns, which was now seen rapidly approaching. When the Englishman drew near, Barney suddenly luffed, threw in his broadside, and immediately righting his helm, kept away again. This staggered the enemy, who, being so much the superior and having a frigate within sustaining distance, had expected the Hyder Ali to surrender. The two vessels were now within pistol shot of each other, and the forward guns of the British were just beginning to bear, when Barney, in a loud voice, ordered his quartermaster "to port his helm." The command was distinctly heard on board the enemy, as indeed Barney had intended it should be, and the Englishman immediately prepared to maneuver his ship accordingly. But the quartermaster of the Hyder Ali had, prior to this, received his instructions, and, instead of obeying Barney's pretended order, whirled his wheel in the contrary direction, luffing the American ship athwart the hawse of her antagonist. The jib-boom of the enemy, in consequence of this, caught in the forerigging of the Hyder Ali, giving the latter the raking position which Barney had desired.

Not a cheer rose from the American vessel, even at this welcome spectacle, for the men knew that victory against such odds was still uncertain, and they thought as yet only of securing it. Nor did the British, at a sight so dispiriting to them, yield in despair. On the contrary, both crews rushed to their guns, and, for half an hour, the combat was waged on either side with desperate fury. The two vessels were soon enveloped in smoke. The explosions of the artillery were like continuous claps of thunder. In twenty-six minutes not less than twenty broadsides were discharged. Nor was the struggle confined to the batteries. Riflemen, posted in the tops of the Hyder Ali, picked off one by one the crew of the enemy, until his decks ran slippery with blood and 56 out of his crew of 140 had fallen. All this while Barney stood on the quarter-deck of his ship, a mark for the enemy's sharpshooters, until they were driven from their stations by the superior aim of the Americans. At length, finding further resistance hopeless, the Englishman struck his colors. Huzza on huzza now rose from the deck of the victor. Barney, on taking possession, discovered that the vessel he had captured was the General Monk, and that her weight of metal was nearly twice his own. Notwithstanding the presence of the frigate, the young hero succeeded in bringing off his prize in safety and in a few hours had moored her by the Hyder Ali's side, opposite Philadelphia, with the dead of both ships still on their decks. In this action Barney lost but 4 killed and 11 wounded. For the victory, conceded to be the most brilliant of the latter years of the war, Barney was rewarded by the State of Pennsylvania with a gold-hilted sword. In consequence of the capture of the General Monk, the Delaware ceased to be infested with the enemy.

About the middle of April (1782), Washington left Philadelphia, where he had remained since November (1781), and joined the army, his headquarters being at Newburg. He was directly informed of a very shameful proceeding on the part of some refugees from New York, and felt compelled to give the matter his serious attention. The circumstances were these: Captain Huddy, who commanded a body of troops in Monmouth county, New Jersey, was attacked by a party of refugees, was made prisoner, and closely confined in New York. A few days afterward they led him out and hanged him, with a label on his breast declaring that he was put to death in retaliation for some of their number, who, they said, had suffered a similar fate. Taking up the matter promptly, Washington submitted it to his officers, laid it before Congress, and wrote to Clinton demanding that Captain Lippencot, the perpetrator of the horrid deed, should be given up. The demand not being complied with, Washington, in accordance with the opinion of the council of officers, determined upon retaliation. A British officer, of equal rank with Captain Huddy, was chosen by lot. Captain Asgill, a young man just nineteen years old, and the only son of his parents, was the one upon whom the lot fell. The whole affair was in suspense for a number of months. Both Clinton and Carleton, his successor, reprobated the act of Lippencot with great severity, yet he was not given up, it being considered by a court-martial that he had only obeyed the orders of the Board of Associated Loyalists in New York. Great interest was made to save Asgill's life; his mother begged the interference of the Count de Vergennes, who wrote to Washington in her behalf. Early in November Washington performed the grateful task of setting Captain Asgill at liberty.

Meantime the army, by whose toils and sufferings the country had been carried through the perils of the Revolution, remained unpaid, apparently disregarded by Congress and by the people whom they had delivered from oppression. It seemed probable that they would speedily be disbanded, without any adequate provision being made by Congress for the compensation which was due to them, and which had been solemnly promised by repeated acts of legislation. They were very naturally discontented. Their complaints and murmurs began to be ominous of very serious consequences. They even began to question the efficiency of the form of government, which appeared to be unfitted for meeting the first necessities of the country—the maintenance and pay of its military force. They began to consider the propriety of establishing a more energetic form of government, while they still had their arms in their hands. Colonel Nicola, an able and experienced officer, who stood high in Washington's estimation, and had frequently been made the medium of communication between him and the officers, was chosen as the organ for making known their sentiments to him on the present occasion. In a letter carefully written, after commenting upon the gloomy state of public affairs, the disordered finances, and other embarrassments occasioned by the war, all caused by defective political organization, he proceeded to say: "This must have shown to all, and to military men in particular, the weakness of republics, and the exertions the army have been able to make by being under a proper head. Therefore, I little doubt that, when the benefits of a mixed government are pointed out and duly considered, such will be readily adopted. In this case it will, I believe, be uncontroverted that the same abilities which have led us through difficulties, apparently insurmountable by human power, to victory and glory, those qualities that have merited and obtained the universal esteem and veneration of an army, would be most likely to conduct and direct us in the smoother paths of peace. Some people have so connected the ideas of tyranny and monarchy as to find it very difficult to separate them. It may, therefore, be requisite to give the head of such a constitution as I propose some title apparently more moderate; but, if all things were once adjusted, I believe strong arguments might be produced for admitting the name of King, which I conceive would be attended with some material advantages."

The answer of Washington to this communication was in the following terms:

"NEWBURG, 22d May, 1782.

"SIR.—With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have read with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. Be assured, sir, no occurrence in the course of the war has given me more painful sensations than your information of there being such ideas existing in the army as you have expressed, and I must view with abhorrence and reprehend with severity. For the present, the communication of them will rest in my own bosom, unless some further agitation of the matter shall make a disclosure necessary.

"I am much at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given encouragement to an address, which to me seems big with the greatest mischiefs that can befall my country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. At the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must add, that no man possesses a more sincere wish to see ample justice done to the army than I do; and as far as my powers and influence, in a constitutional way, extend, they shall be employed, to the utmost of my abilities, to effect it, should there be any occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature.

"I am, sir, &c.,

"GEORGE WASHINGTON."

* * * * *

This was the language of Washington at a time when the army was entirely devoted to him, when his popularity was equal to that of Cromwell or Napoleon in their palmiest days. Certain officers of the army were ready, at a word, to make him king; and the acknowledged inefficiency of the existing government would have furnished a plausible reason for the act. But Washington was not formed of the material that kings are made of. Personal ambition he despised. To be, not to seem great and good was his aim. To serve, and not to rule his country was his object. He was too true a patriot to assume the power and title of a monarch.

Early in May (1782) Sir Guy Carleton, who had succeeded Sir Henry Clinton in the command of all the British forces in the United States, arrived at New York. Having been also appointed, in conjunction with Admiral Digby, a commissioner to negotiate a peace, he lost no time in conveying to Washington copies of the votes of the British Parliament, and of a bill which had been introduced on the part of the administration, authorizing the King to conclude a peace or truce with those who were still denominated "the revolted Colonies of North America." These papers, he said, would manifest the dispositions prevailing with the government and people of England toward those of America, and, if the like pacific temper should prevail in this country, both inclination and duty would lead him to meet it with the most zealous concurrence. He had addressed to Congress, he said, a letter containing the same communications, and he solicited a passport for the person who should convey it.

At this time (1782) the bill enabling the British monarch to conclude a peace or truce with America had not become a law, nor was any assurance given that the present commissioners were empowered to offer other terms than those which had been formerly rejected. General Carleton, therefore, could not hope that negotiations would commence on such a basis, nor be disappointed at the refusal of the passports he requested by Congress, to whom the application was, of course, referred by Washington. The letter may have been written for the general purpose of conciliation, but the situation of the United States justified a suspicion of different motives, and prudence required that their conduct should be influenced by that suspicion. The repugnance of the King to a dismemberment of the empire was understood, and it was thought probable that the sentiments expressed in the House of Commons might be attributable rather to a desire of changing ministers than to any fixed determination to relinquish the design of reannexing America to the Crown.

Under these impressions, the overtures now made were considered as opiates administered to lull the spirit of vigilance, which Washington and his friends in Congress labored to keep up, into a state of fatal repose, and to prevent those measures of security which it might yet be necessary to adopt.

This jealousy was nourished by all the intelligence received from Europe. The utmost address of the British cabinet had been employed to detach the belligerents from each other. The mediation of Russia had been accepted to procure a separate peace with Holland; propositions had been submitted both to France and Spain, tending to an accommodation of differences with each of those powers singly, and inquiries had been made of Mr. Adams, the American minister at the Hague in place of Mr. Laurens, which seemed to contemplate the same object with regard to the United States. These political maneuvers furnished additional motives for doubting the sincerity of the English cabinet. Whatever views might actuate the court of St. James on this subject, the resolution of the American government to make no separate treaty was unalterable.

But the public votes which have been stated, and probably his private instructions, restrained Sir Guy Carleton from offensive war, and the state of the American army disabled Washington from making any attempt on the posts in possession of the British. The campaign of 1782 consequently passed away without furnishing any military operations of moment between the armies under the immediate direction of the respective Commanders-in-Chief.

Early in August (1782) a letter was received by Washington from Sir Guy Carleton and Admiral Digby, which, among other communications manifesting a pacific disposition on the part of England, contained the information that Mr. Grenville was at Paris, invested with full powers to treat with all the parties at war, that negotiations for a general peace were already commenced and that his Majesty had commanded his minister to direct Mr. Grenville that the independence of the thirteen provinces should be proposed by him in the first instance instead of being made a condition of a general treaty. But that this proposition would be made in the confidence that the Loyalists would be restored to their possessions, or a full compensation made them for whatever confiscations might have taken place.

This letter was, not long afterward, followed by one from Sir Guy Carleton, declaring that he could discern no further object of contest, and that he disapproved of all further hostilities by sea or land, which could only multiply the miseries of individuals, without a possible advantage to either nation. In pursuance of this opinion, he had, soon after his arrival in New York, restrained the practice of detaching parties of Indians against the frontiers of the United States and had recalled those which were previously engaged in those bloody incursions.

These communications appear to have alarmed the jealousy of the minister of France. To quiet his fears Congress renewed the resolution "to enter into no discussion of any overtures for pacification, but in confidence and in concert with his most Christian Majesty," and again recommended to the several States to adopt such measures as would most effectually guard against all intercourse with any subjects of the British Crown during the war.

In South Carolina the American army under General Greene maintained its position in front of Jacksonborough, and that of the British under General Leslie was confined to Charleston and its immediate vicinity. Both were inactive for a long period, and during this time Greene's army suffered so much for want of provisions that he was under the necessity of authorizing the seizure of them by the odious measure of impressment.

Privations, which had been borne without a murmur under the excitement of active military operations, produced great irritation during the leisure which prevailed after the enemy had abandoned the open field, and, in the Pennsylvania line, which was composed chiefly of foreigners, the discontent was aggravated to such a point as to produce a treasonable intercourse with the enemy, in which a plot is understood to have been laid for seizing General Greene and delivering him to a detachment of British troops which would move out of Charleston for the purpose of favoring the execution of the design. It was discovered when it is supposed to have been on the point of execution, and a Sergeant Gornell, believed to be the chief of the conspiracy, was condemned to death by a court-martial, and executed on the 22d of April. Some others, among whom were two domestics in the general's family, were brought before the court on suspicion of being concerned in the plot, but the testimony was not sufficient to convict them, and twelve deserted the night after it was discovered. There is no reason to believe that the actual guilt of this transaction extended further.

Charleston was held until the 14th of December. Previous to its evacuation General Leslie had proposed a cessation of hostilities, and that his troops might be supplied with fresh provisions, in exchange for articles of the last necessity in the American camp. The policy of government being adverse to this proposition, General Greene was under the necessity of refusing his assent to it, and the British general continued to supply his wants by force. This produced several skirmishes with foraging parties, to one of which importance was given by the untimely death of the intrepid Laurens, whose loss was universally lamented.

This gallant and accomplished young gentleman had entered into the military family of Washington at an early period of the war and had always shared a large portion of his esteem. Brave to excess, he sought every occasion to render service to his country and to acquire that military fame which he pursued with the ardor of a young soldier, whose courage seems to have partaken largely of that romantic spirit which youth and enthusiasm produce in a fearless mind. No small addition to the regrets occasioned by his loss was derived from the reflection that he fell unnecessarily, in an unimportant skirmish, in the last moments of the war, when his rash exposure to the danger which proved fatal to him could no longer be useful to his country.

From the arrival of Sir Guy Carleton at New York, the conduct of the British armies on the American continent was regulated by the spirit then recently displayed in the House of Commons, and all the sentiments expressed by their general were pacific and conciliatory. But to these flattering appearances it was dangerous to yield implicit confidence. With a change of men a change of measures might also take place, and, in addition to the ordinary suggestions of prudence, the military events in the West Indies were calculated to keep alive the attention, and to continue the anxieties of the United States.

After the surrender of Lord Cornwallis the arms of France and Spain in the American seas had been attended with such signal success that the hope of annihilating the power of Great Britain in the West Indies was not too extravagant to be indulged. Immense preparations had been made for the invasion of Jamaica, and, early in April, Admiral Count de Grasse sailed from Martinique with a powerful fleet, having on board the land forces and artillery which were to be employed in the operations against that island. His intention was to form a junction with the Spanish Admiral Don Solano, who lay at Hispaniola; after which the combined fleet, whose superiority promised to render it irresistible, was to proceed on the important enterprise which had been concerted. On his way to Hispaniola de Grasse was overtaken by Rodney, and brought to an engagement in which he was totally defeated and made a prisoner. This decisive victory disconcerted the plans of the combined powers and gave security to the British islands. In the United States it was feared that this alteration in the aspect of affairs might influence the councils of the English cabinet on the question of peace, and these apprehensions increased the uneasiness with which all intelligent men contemplated the state of the American finances.

It was then in contemplation to reduce the army by which many of the officers would be discharged. While the general declared, in a confidential letter to the Secretary of War, his conviction of the alacrity with which they would retire into private life, could they be placed in a situation as eligible as they had left to enter into the service, he added—"Yet I cannot help fearing the result of the measure, when I see such a number of men goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on, the past, and of anticipation on the future, about to be turned on the world, soured by penury, and what they call the ingratitude of the public; involved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the flower of their days, and many of them their patrimonies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country; and having suffered everything which human nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. I repeat it, when I reflect on these irritating circumstances, unattended by one thing to soothe their feelings or brighten the gloomy prospect, I cannot avoid apprehending that a train of evils will follow of a very serious and distressing nature.

"I wish not to heighten the shades of the picture so far as the real life would justify me in doing, or I would give anecdotes of patriotism and distress which have scarcely ever been paralleled, never surpassed, in the history of mankind. But you may rely upon it, the patience and long-sufferance of this army are almost exhausted, and there never was so great a spirit of discontent as at this instant. While in the field I think it may be kept from breaking out into acts of outrage, but when we retire into winter quarters (unless the storm be previously dissipated) I cannot be at ease respecting the consequences. It is high time for a peace."

"To judge rightly," says Marshall, "of the motives which produced this uneasy temper in the army it will be necessary to recollect that the resolution of October, 1780, granting half-pay for life to the officers stood on the mere faith of a government possessing no funds enabling it to perform its engagements. From requisitions alone, to be made on sovereign States, the supplies were to be drawn which should satisfy these meritorious public creditors, and the ill success attending these requisitions while the dangers of war were still impending, furnished melancholy presages of their unproductiveness in time of peace. In addition to this reflection, of itself sufficient to disturb the tranquility which the passage of the resolution had produced, were other considerations of decisive influence. The dispositions manifested by Congress itself were so unfriendly to the half-pay establishment as to extinguish the hope that any funds the government might acquire would be applied to that object. Since the passage of the resolution the articles of confederation, which required the concurrence of nine States to any act appropriating public money, had been adopted, and nine States had never been in favor of the measure. Should the requisitions of Congress therefore be respected, or should permanent funds be granted by the States, the prevailing sentiment of the nation was too hostile to the compensation which had been stipulated to leave a probability that it would be substantially made. This was not merely the sentiment of the individuals then administering the government which might change with a change of men; it was known to be the sense of the States they represented, and consequently the hope could not be indulged that, on this subject, a future Congress would be more just or would think more liberally. As, therefore, the establishment of that independence for which they had fought and suffered appeared to become more certain as the end of their toils approached—the officers became more attentive to their own situation, and the inquietude of the army increased with the progress of the negotiation."

In October (1782) the French troops marched to Boston, in order to embark for the West Indies, and the Americans retired into winter quarters. The apparent indisposition of the British general to act offensively, the pacific temper avowed by the cabinet of London, and the strength of the country in which the American troops were cantoned, gave ample assurance that no military operations would be undertaken during the winter which would require the continuance of Washington in camp. But the irritable temper of the army furnished cause for serious apprehension, and he determined to forego every gratification to be derived from a suspension of his toils, in order to watch the progress of its discontent.

The officers who had wasted their fortunes and the prime of their lives in unrewarded service, fearing, with reason, that Congress possessed neither the power nor the inclination to comply with its engagements to the army, could not look with unconcern at the prospect which was opening to them. In December, soon after going into winter quarters, they presented a petition to Congress respecting the money actually due to them, and proposing a commutation of the half-pay stipulated by the resolutions of October, 1780, for a sum in gross, which, they flattered themselves, would encounter fewer prejudices than the half-pay establishment. Some security that the engagements of the government would be complied with was also requested. A committee of officers was deputed to solicit the attention of Congress to this memorial, and to attend its progress through the house.

Among the most distinguished members of the Federal government were persons sincerely disposed to do ample justice to the public creditors generally, and to that class of them particularly whose claims were founded in military service. But many viewed the army with jealous eyes, acknowledged its merit with unwillingness, and betrayed, involuntarily, their repugnance to a faithful observance of the public engagements. With this question another of equal importance was connected, on which Congress was divided almost in the same manner. One party was attached to a State, the other to a Continental system. The latter labored to fund the public debts on solid Continental security, while the former opposed their whole weight to measures calculated to effect that object.

In consequence of these divisions on points of the deepest interest, the business of the army advanced slowly, and the important question respecting the commutation of their half-pay remained undecided (March, 1783), when intelligence was received of the signature of the preliminary and eventual articles of peace between the United States and Great Britain.

The officers, soured by their past sufferings, their present wants, and their gloomy prospects—exasperated by the neglect which they experienced and the injustice which they apprehended, manifested an irritable and uneasy temper, which required only a slight impulse to give it activity. To render this temper the more dangerous, an opinion had been insinuated that the Commander-in-Chief was restrained, by extreme delicacy, from supporting their interests with that zeal which his feelings and knowledge of their situation had inspired. Early in March a letter was received from their committee in Philadelphia, showing that the objects they solicited had not been obtained. On the 10th of that month (1783) an anonymous paper was circulated, requiring a meeting of the general and field officers at the public building on the succeeding day at 11 in the morning, and announcing the expectation that an officer from each company, and a delegate from the medical staff would attend. The object of the meeting was avowed to be, "to consider the late letter from their representatives in Philadelphia, and what measures (if any) should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which they seemed to have solicited in vain."

On the same day an address to the army was privately circulated, which was admirably well calculated to work on the passions of the moment, and to lead to the most desperate resolutions. This was the first of the celebrated "Newburg Addresses," since acknowledged to have been written by Gen. John Armstrong, at the request of several of the officers in camp. The following were the concluding passages of the first address:

"After a pursuit of seven long years, the object for which we set out is at length brought within our reach. Yes, my friends, that suffering courage of yours was active once. It has conducted the United States of America through a doubtful and a bloody war. It has placed her in the chair of independency; and peace returns again to bless—whom? A country willing to redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your services? A country courting your return to private life with tears of gratitude and smiles of admiration—longing to divide with you that independency which your gallantry has given, and those riches which your wounds have preserved? Is this the case? Or is it rather a country that tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and insults your distresses? Have you not more than once suggested your wishes and made known your wants to Congress? Wants and wishes which gratitude and policy would have anticipated rather than evaded; and have you not lately, in the meek language of entreating memorials, begged from their justice what you could no longer expect from their favor? How have you been answered? Let the letter which you are called to consider tomorrow reply.

"If this, then, be your treatment while the swords you wear are necessary for the defense of America, what have you to expect from peace, when your voice shall sink and your strength dissipate by division? When those very swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no remaining mark of military distinction left but your wants, infirmities, and scars? Can you then consent to be the only sufferers by this Revolution, and, retiring from the field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt? Can you consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity which has hitherto been spent in honor? If you can, go; and carry with you the jest of Tories and the scorn of Whigs, the ridicule, and, what is worse, the pity of the world. Go—starve and be forgotten. But if your spirit should revolt at this, if you have sense enough to discover, and spirit enough to oppose, tyranny under whatever garb it may assume, whether it be the plain coat of republicanism or the splendid robe of royalty; if you have yet learned to discriminate between a people and a cause, between men and principles, awake; attend to your situation and redress yourselves. If the present moment be lost, every future effort is in vain, and your threats then will be as empty as your entreaties now.

"I would advise you, therefore, to come to some final opinion upon what you can bear and what you will suffer. If your determination be in any proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal from the justice to the fears of the government. Change the milk-and-water style of your last memorial. Assume a bolder tone, decent, but lively; spirited and determined; and suspect the man who would advise to more moderation and longer forbearance. Let two or three men who can feel as well as write be appointed to draw up your last remonstrance; for I would no longer give it the suing, soft, unsuccessful epithet of memorial. Let it be represented in language that will neither dishonor you by its rudeness nor betray you by its fears, what has been promised by Congress and what has been performed; how long and how patiently you have suffered; how little you have asked, and how much of that little has been denied. Tell them that, though you were the first, and would wish to be the last to encounter danger; though despair itself can never drive you into dishonor it may drive you from the field; that the wound often irritated and never healed may at length become incurable, and that the slightest mark of indignity from Congress now must operate like the grave, and part you forever; that in any political event, the army has its alternative—if peace, that nothing shall separate you from your arms but death; if war, that, courting the auspices and inviting the directions of your illustrious leader, you will retire to some unsettled country, smile in your turn, and 'mock when their fear cometh on.' But let it represent also that should they comply with the request of your late memorial, it would make you more happy and them more respectable. That while war should continue you would follow their standard into the field, and when it came to an end, you would withdraw into the shade of private life, and give the world another subject of wonder and applause—an army victorious over its enemies, victorious over itself."

Persuaded as the officers in general were of the indisposition of government to remunerate their services, this eloquent and impassioned address, dictated by genius and by feeling, found in almost every bosom a kindred though latent sentiment prepared to receive its impression. Quick as the train to which a torch is applied, the passions caught its flame and nothing seemed to be required but the assemblage proposed for the succeeding day to communicate the conflagration to the combustible mass and to produce an explosion ruinous to the army and to the nation.

Accustomed as Washington had been to emergencies of great delicacy and difficulty, yet none had occurred which called more pressingly than the present for the utmost exertion of all his powers. He knew well that it was much easier to avoid intemperate measures than to recede from them after they have been adopted. He therefore considered it as a matter of the last importance to prevent the meeting of the officers on the succeeding day, as proposed in the anonymous summons. The sensibilities of the army were too high to admit of this being forbidden by authority, as a violation of discipline; but the end was answered in another way and without irritation. Washington, in general orders, noticed the anonymous summons, as a disorderly proceeding, not to be countenanced; and the more effectually to divert the officers from paying any attention to it, he requested them to meet for the same nominal purpose, but on a day four days subsequent to the one proposed by the anonymous writer. On the next day (March 12th), the second "Newburg Address" appeared, affecting to consider Washington as approving the first, and only changing the day of meeting. But this artifice was defeated. The intervening period was improved in preparing the officers for the adoption of moderate measures. Washington sent for one officer after another, and enlarged in private on the fatal consequences, and particularly the loss of character, which would result from the adoption of intemperate resolutions. His whole personal influence was exerted to calm the prevailing agitation. When the officers assembled (March 15, 1783), General Gates was called to the chair. Washington rose and apologized for being present, which had not been his original intention; but the circulation of anonymous addresses had imposed on him the duty of expressing his opinion of their tendency. He had committed it to writing, and, with the indulgence of his brother officers, he would take the liberty of reading it to them; and then proceeded as follows:

"GENTLEMEN.—By an anonymous summons an attempt has been made to convene you together. How inconsistent with the rules of propriety, how unmilitary, and how subversive of all order and discipline, let the good sense of the army decide.

"In the moment of this summons, another anonymous production was sent into circulation, addressed more to the feelings and passions than to the reason and judgment of the army. The author of the piece is entitled to much credit for the goodness of his pen, and I could wish he had as much credit for the rectitude of his heart; for, as men see through different optics, and are induced, by the reflecting faculties of the mind, to use different means to attain the same end, the author of the address should have had more charity than to mark for suspicion the man who should recommend moderation and longer forbearance; or, in other words, who should not think as he thinks, and act as he advises. But he had another plan in view, in which candor and liberality of sentiment, regard to justice, and love of country have no part; and he was right to insinuate the darkest suspicion to effect the blackest design. That the address is drawn with great art and is designed to answer the most insidious purposes; that it is calculated to impress the mind with an idea of premeditated injustice in the sovereign power of the United States, and rouse all those resentments which must unavoidably flow from such a belief that the secret mover of this scheme, whoever he may be, intended to take advantage of the passions, while they were warmed by the recollection of past distresses, without giving time for cool, deliberate thinking, and that composure of mind which is so necessary to give dignity and stability to measures, is rendered too obvious, by the mode of conducting the business, to need other proof than a reference to the proceeding. Thus much, gentlemen, I have thought it incumbent on me to observe to you, to show upon what principles I opposed the irregular and hasty meeting which was proposed to have been held on Tuesday last, and not because I wanted a disposition to give you every opportunity, consistent with your own honor and the dignity of the army, to make known your grievances. If my conduct heretofore has not evinced to you that I have been a faithful friend to the army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally unavailing and improper. But as I was among the first who embarked in the cause of our common country; as I have never left your side one moment, but when called from you on public duty; as I have been the constant companion and witness of your distresses, and not among the last to feel and acknowledge your merits; as I have ever considered my own military reputation as inseparably connected with that of the army; as my heart has ever expanded with joy when I have heard its praises, and my indignation has arisen when the mouth of detraction has been opened against it, it can scarcely be supposed, at this late stage of the war, that I am indifferent to its interests. But how are they to be promoted? The way is plain, says the anonymous addresser. If war continues, remove into the unsettled country; there establish yourselves and leave an ungrateful country to defend itself. But who are they to defend? Our wives, our children, our farms and other property, which we leave behind us? Or, in this state of hostile separation, are we to take the two first (the latter cannot be removed), to perish in a wilderness with hunger, cold, and nakedness? If peace takes place, never sheathe your swords, says he, until you have obtained full and ample justice. This dreadful alternative of either deserting our country in the extremist hour of her distress, or turning our arms against it, which is the apparent object, unless Congress can be compelled into instant compliance, has something so shocking in it that humanity revolts at the idea. My God! What can this writer have in view, by recommending such measures? Can he be a friend to the army? Can he be a friend to this country? Rather is he not an insidious foe? some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plotting the ruin of both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between the civil and military powers of the continent? And what a compliment does he pay to our understandings, when he recommends measures, in either alternative, impracticable in their nature!

"But here, gentlemen, I will drop the curtain, because it would be as imprudent in me to assign my reasons for this opinion as it would be insulting to your conception to suppose you stood in need of them. A moment's reflection will convince every dispassionate mind of the physical impossibility of carrying either proposal into execution. There might, gentlemen, be an Impropriety in my taking notice, in this address to you, of an anonymous production, but the manner in which that performance has been introduced to the army, the effect it was intended to have, together with some other circumstances, will amply justify my observations on the tendency of that writing. With respect to the advice given by the author, to suspect the man who shall recommend moderate measures and longer forbearance, I spurn it, as every man who regards that liberty and reveres that justice for which we contend, undoubtedly must; for, if men are to be precluded from offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve the most serious and alarming consequences that can invite the consideration of mankind, reason is of no use to us. The freedom of speech may be taken away, and, dumb and silent, we may be led like sheep to the slaughter.

"I cannot, in justice to my own belief and what I have great reason to conceive is the intention of Congress, conclude this address without giving it as my decided opinion that that honorable body entertain exalted sentiments of the services of the army, and from a full conviction of its merits and sufferings will do it complete justice; that their endeavors to discover and establish funds for this purpose has been unwearied, and will not cease till they have succeeded, I have not a doubt. But, like all other large bodies where there is a variety of different interests to reconcile, their determinations are slow. Why, then, should we distrust them, and, in consequence of that distrust, adopt measures which may cast a shade over that glory which has been so justly acquired, and tarnish the reputation of an army which is celebrated through all Europe for its fortitude and patriotism? And for what is this done? To bring the object we seek nearer? No; most certainly, in my opinion, it will cast it at a greater distance. For myself—and I take no merit in giving the assurance, being induced to it from principles of gratitude, veracity, and justice—a grateful sense of the confidence you have ever placed in me, a recollection of the cheerful assistance and prompt obedience I have experienced from you under every vicissitude of fortune, and the sincere affection I feel for an army I have so long had the honor to command, will oblige me to declare in this public and solemn manner that in the attainment of complete justice for all your toils and dangers, and in the gratification of every wish, so far as may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my country, and those powers we are bound to respect, you may freely command my services to the utmost extent of my abilities. While I give you these assurances, and pledge myself in the most unequivocal manner to exert whatever ability I am possessed of in your favor, let me entreat you, gentlemen, on your part, not to take any measure, which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity and sully the glory you have hitherto maintained. Let me request you to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions which were published to you two days ago; and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their power to render ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you, in the name of our common country, as you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretenses, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord and deluge our rising empire in blood.

"By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes; you will defeat the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice. You will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings; and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to mankind—'Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.'"

After concluding this address, Washington read to the meeting a letter from one of his frequent correspondents in Congress, the Hon. Joseph Jones, pointing out the difficulties Congress had to contend with, but expressing the opinion that the claims of the army would, at all events, be paid. When he got through with the first paragraph of the letter he made a short pause, took out his spectacles, and craved the indulgence of the audience while he put them on, remarking, while he was engaged in that operation, that "he had grown gray in their service, and now found himself growing blind." The effect of such remark from Washington, at such a moment, may be imagined. It brought tears to the eyes of many a veteran in that illustrious assemblage. When he had finished reading the letter he retired, leaving the officers to deliberate and act as the crisis demanded.

On the present occasion, as on previous ones, Washington's appeal to the officers was successful. The sentiments uttered in his address, from a person whom the army had been accustomed to love, to revere, and to obey—the solidity of whose judgment and the sincerity of whose zeal for their interests were alike unquestioned—could not fail to be irresistible. No person was hardy enough to oppose the advice he had given, and the general impression was apparent. A resolution, moved by General Knox and seconded by Brigadier-General Putnam, "assuring him that the officers reciprocated his affectionate expressions with the greatest sincerity of which the human heart is capable," was unanimously voted. On the motion of General Putnam, a committee consisting of General Knox, Colonel Brooks, and Captain Howard was then appointed to prepare resolutions on the business before them, and to report in half an hour. The report of the committee being brought in and considered, resolutions were passed declaring that no circumstances of distress should induce the officers to sully, by unworthy conduct, the reputation acquired in their long and faithful service; that they had undiminished confidence in the justice of Congress and of their country; and that the Commander-in-Chief should be requested to write to the President of Congress, earnestly entreating a speedy decision on the late address forwarded by a committee of the army. In compliance with the request of the officers, expressed in the above mentioned resolution, and with the pledge which he had voluntarily given, Washington forthwith addressed the following letter to the President of Congress:

"The result of the proceedings of the grand convention of the officers, which I have the honor of enclosing to your Excellency for the inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be considered as the last glorious proof of patriotism which could have been given by men who aspired to the distinction of a patriot army, and will not only confirm their claim to the justice but will increase their title to the gratitude of their country. Having seen the proceedings on the part of the army terminate with perfect unanimity and in a manner entirely consonant to my wishes; being impressed with the liveliest sentiments of affection for those who have so long, so patiently, and so cheerfully suffered and fought under my immediate direction; having, from motives of justice, duty, and gratitude, spontaneously offered myself as an advocate for their rights, and, having been requested to write to your Excellency, earnestly entreating the most speedy decision of Congress upon the subjects of the late address from the army to that honorable body, it now only remains for me to perform the task I have assumed, and to intercede in their behalf, as I now do, that the sovereign power will be pleased to verify the predictions I have pronounced of, and the confidence the army have reposed in, the justice of their country. And here I humbly conceive it is altogether unnecessary (while I am pleading the cause of an army which have done and suffered more than any other army ever did in the defense of the rights and liberties of human nature) to expatiate on their claims to the most ample compensation for their meritorious services, because they are known perfectly to the whole world, and because (although the topics are inexhaustible) enough has already been said on the subject. To prove these assertions, to evince that my sentiments have ever been uniform, and to show what my ideas of the rewards in question have always been, I appeal to the archives of Congress, and call on those sacred deposits to witness for me. And in order that my observations and arguments in favor of a future adequate provision for the officers of the army may be brought to remembrance again and considered in a single point of view, without giving Congress the trouble of having recourse to their files, I will beg leave to transmit herewith an extract from a representation made by me to a committee of Congress, so long ago as the 29th of January, 1778, and also the transcript of a letter to the President of Congress, dated near Passaic Falls, October 11, 1780.

"That in the critical and perilous moment when the last-mentioned communication was made there was the utmost danger a dissolution of the army would have taken place unless measures similar to those recommended had been adopted, will not admit a doubt. That the adoption of the resolution granting half-pay for life has been attended with all the happy consequences I had foretold, so far as respected the good of the service, let the astonishing contrast between the state of the army at this instant and at the former period determine. And that the establishment of funds and security of the payment of all the just demands of the army will be the most certain means of preserving the national faith and future tranquility of this extensive continent, is my decided opinion.

"By the preceding remarks it will readily be imagined that instead of retracting and reprehending (from further experience and reflection) the mode of compensation so strenuously urged in the enclosures, I am more and more confirmed in the sentiment, and if in the wrong, suffer me to please myself with the grateful delusion.

"For if, besides the simple payment of their wages, a further compensation is not due to the sufferings and sacrifices of the officers, then have I been mistaken indeed. If the whole army have not merited whatever a grateful people can bestow, then have I been beguiled by prejudice and built opinion on the basis of error. If this country should not in the event perform everything which has been requested in the late memorial to Congress, then will my belief become vain, and the hope that has been excited void of foundation. And if (as has been suggested for the purpose of inflaming their passions) the officers of the army are to be the only sufferers by this revolution; 'if, retiring from the field, they are to grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt; if they are to wade through the vile mire of dependency and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity which has hitherto been spent in honor,' then shall I have learned what ingratitude is—then shall I have realized a tale which will embitter every moment of my future life.

"But I am under no such apprehensions; a country rescued by their arms from impending ruin will never leave unpaid the debt of gratitude.

"Should any intemperate or improper warmth have mingled itself amongst the foregoing observations, I must entreat your Excellency and Congress it may be attributed to the effusion of an honest zeal in the best of causes, and that my peculiar situation may be my apology, and I hope I need not on this momentous occasion make any new protestations of personal disinterestedness, having ever renounced for myself the idea of pecuniary reward. The consciousness of having attempted faithfully to discharge my duty and the approbation of my country will be a sufficient recompense for my services."

This energetic letter, connected with recent events, induced Congress to decide on the claims of the army. These were liquidated, and the amount acknowledged to be due from the United States. Thus the country was once more indebted to the wisdom and moderation of Washington for its preservation from imminent danger.

Soon after these events intelligence of a general peace was received. The news came by a French vessel from Cadiz, with a letter from Lafayette, who was then at that place preparing for an expedition to the West Indies, under Count d'Estaing. Shortly after, Sir Guy Carleton gave official information to the same effect and announced a cessation of hostilities. The joyful intelligence was notified by proclamation of Washington to the army, in the camp at Newburg, on the 19th of April (1783), exactly eight years after the commencement of hostilities at Lexington. In general orders a public religious service and thanksgiving was directed by him to take place on the evening of the same day, when the proclamation was read at the head of every regiment and corps of the army. The immediate reduction of the army was resolved upon, but the mode of effecting it required deliberation. To avoid the inconveniences of dismissing a great number of soldiers in a body, furloughs were freely granted on the application of individuals, and after their dispersion they were not enjoined to return. By this arrangement a critical moment was got over. A great part of an unpaid army was dispersed over the States without tumult or disorder.