Part 30

"That the army should march out of the camp with all the honors of war and its camp artillery, to a fixed place, where they were to deposit their arms and leave the artillery; to be allowed a free embarkation and passage to Europe, from Boston, upon condition of their not serving again in America during the present war; the army not to be separated, particularly the men from the officers; roll-calling, and other duties of regularity, to be permitted; the officers to be admitted on parole, and to wear their sidearms; all private property to be retained, and the public delivered upon honor; no baggage to be searched or molested; all persons, of whatever country, appertaining to, or following the camp, to be fully comprehended in the terms of capitulation, and the Canadians to be returned to their own country, liable to its conditions."

On the day on which the capitulation took place, the American army numbered nearly fifteen thousand men, ten thousand of whom were regular troops; the English troops amounted to five thousand seven hundred and ninety-one, of whom two thousand four hundred and twelve were Germans, and three thousand three hundred and seventy-nine were English.

The munitions of war, which by the capitulation came into possession of the Americans, were, besides being numerically great, exceedingly valuable. They consisted of a fine train of brass artillery, amounting to forty-two pieces, of different sorts and sizes, four thousand six hundred muskets, and an immense quantity of bombs, balls, and other implements of war.

Such was the result of this expedition of the British, on the banks of the Hudson. To the English, it was most unexpected and disastrous; to the Americans, joyous and fortunate. It had been planned with ability, and had General Howe fulfilled the part expected of him, the result might have been reversed. But his failure to cöoperate, as contemplated in the plan, left General Burgoyne but little chance of success.

The victory won, General Gates forthwith dispatched Colonel Wilkinson to convey the happy tidings to congress. On entering the hall of session, he approached the speaker, and said: "The whole British army has laid down arms at Saratoga; our own, full of vigor and courage, expect your orders; it is for your wisdom to decide where the country may still have need of their services."

"To General Gates and his army, congress, by resolution, expressed their thanks. To the former, in addition, they voted a gold medal, in commemoration of the proud achievement. On one side of it, was the bust of the general, with these words around: _Horatio Gates, Duci strenuo_; and in the middle, _Comita Americana_. On the reverse, Burgoyne was represented in the attitude of delivering his sword; and, in the back ground, on the one side and on the other, were seen the two armies of England and America. At the top were these words: _Salum regionum septentrion_; and at the foot, _Hoste ad Saratogam in deditione accepto_. Die XVII. Oct. MDCCLXXVII. It would be difficult to describe the transports of joy which the news of this event excited among the Americans. They began to flatter themselves with a still more happy future; no one any longer entertained a doubt of independence. All hoped, and not without reason, that a success of this kind would at length determine France, and the other European powers that waited for her example, to declare themselves in favor of America."

To the American people at large, the news of the victory conveyed the most heartfelt joy. The cloud, which had long rested upon their hopes, seemed to be breaking away, and to presage the dawn of a day for which for years they had prayed and struggled; but which, with all their efforts, hopes, and prayers, had, until now, appeared distant and doubtful.

FOOTNOTES:

[48] Botta.

[49] General Frazer was wounded about four o'clock in the afternoon, and died the following morning at eight. At six in the evening he was buried--all the generals attending his funeral, and marching to an eminence where his remains were deposited. The Americans, entirely ignorant of the nature of the collection, directed their artillery towards the British. Fortunately, no lives were lost, and no one was wounded. General Gates, on learning the object of the assemblage, expressed his deep regret at the firing.

XI. PROGRESS OF THE WAR.

STATE of affairs in England--Treaty with France--Movements in the British Parliament--Overtures to Congress--Rejection of them--Battle of Monmouth--Disastrous Retreat of General Lee--Fortunate interposition of Washington--His rebuke of Lee--Tremendous Battle--Sufferings of the Armies--Renewal of the Contest--Midnight Retreat of the British army--Subsequent Trial and Dismission of General Lee.

1. STATE OF AFFAIRS IN ENGLAND.

The effect produced by the surrender of General Burgoyne, upon the British cabinet and the nation at large, was as grievous and depressing, as it had been joyous and animating to congress and the American people. The most brilliant success had been anticipated by the former; the most ignominious result had occurred. The pride of the nation was humbled, and those who had disapproved of the war, were now loud in their censures of ministers.

Already had the war cost England twenty thousand men and thirty millions of money. But more of both were now needed. Reluctant to ask parliament for a fresh levy, the ministers, during the recess of that body, near the beginning of the year 1778, dispatched agents into the different provinces of the kingdom, to spur the inhabitants to enlist, and to furnish voluntary contributions to carry on the war.

The success of this plan was only partial--far less than anticipated, or the exigencies of the case required. The citizens of Liverpool and Manchester, however, responded to the call, and agreed to raise and equip a regiment of one thousand each. Edinburgh and Glasgow followed their example. London, as a city, peremptorily refused to raise troops--but the friends of the government raised the sum of twenty thousand pounds.

2. TREATY WITH FRANCE.

Not long after the declaration of independence, commissioners were authorized to bring the subject of a recognition before the court of Versailles, and to urge the measure by such considerations as existed in the case. This they had done, and continued to do, so long as any prospect of success existed. At length, despairing of obtaining their object, they were about to abandon further effort, when the joyful intimation was communicated to Dr. Franklin, that a treaty, involving the desired recognition, had been determined upon by the king and his ministers. On the 6th of February, 1778, this measure, most auspicious to American interests, was concluded at Paris. It was signed on behalf of the king by M. Gerard; and for the United States by Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. The treaty stipulated--a thing until then unheard of on the part of a king--that the essential and express object of the alliance was to maintain effectually the _liberty_, _sovereignty_, and _independence of the United States_.

On the 21st of March, the American commissioners were with great pomp and ceremony, introduced by Count de Vergennes before the throne, whereon was seated the king, Louis XVI., in the midst of the grandees of his court. The honor was one which was conferred only when the king gave audience to the ambassadors of sovereigns and independent states.

On the 2d of May, the French frigate _La Sensible_, having on board the important treaty, reached the American shores. Congress was forthwith convened, and the treaty was ratified. The most heartfelt joy pervaded the country. The army, drawn up in the order of battle, received the intelligence with exultation not to be described.

3. MOVEMENTS IN THE BRITISH PARLIAMENT.

Before the treaty between France and the United States was made public, the British ministry had knowledge of its existence. Justly alarmed, they felt the necessity of adopting some measures by which to bring the war to a close, without a collision with France. What those measures should be, was a question on which a diversity of opinion existed in the cabinet. It is asserted, that some of the members, in secret session, proposed at once to acknowledge the independence of the United States, and to conclude a treaty with them. But on the 19th of February, Lord North introduced a resolution into parliament, admitting that the parliament could not in future impose any tax or duty on the colonies of North America, except such only as should be deemed beneficial to commerce, and the product even of those to be collected under the authority of the respective colonies, and to be employed for their use and advantage. He proposed, besides, that five commissioners should be appointed, empowered to adjust with any assembly or individual whatsoever, the differences existing between Great Britain and her colonies; it being understood, however, that the compacts were not to take effect till ratified by the parliament.

To the surprise and indignation of the friends of the war, the bill passed; and, shortly after, the king appointed for commissioners the Earl of Carlisle, William Eden, George Johnstone, and the commander-in-chief of the English army in America. The three first sailed from St. Helena for America on the 21st, on board the ship Trident.

In the beginning of June, the commissioners arrived, and on the 9th, repaired to Philadelphia. Soon after, they made a communication to congress, explanatory of their object, and requested the privilege of opening a conference with that body, or with some of its members, either at New York, or some other place which congress should please to appoint.

The serious consideration of congress was given to the overture, and on the 17th of June, their answer was returned. In substance it was, that they would be ready to enter upon the consideration of peace and commerce, not inconsistent with treaties already subsisting, when the king of Great Britain should demonstrate a sincere disposition for that purpose; of which no other proof could be admitted but that of an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, or the withdrawal of his fleets and armies.

Thus terminated the negotiation. America, steady to her purpose, would not listen to any proposal which did not involve the recognition of her independence. Great Britain was yet too proud to accede to such terms, and consequently, the idea of accommodation was abandoned, and the most vigorous measures were adopted to wage war against her ancient ally and her disobedient child, whose fortunes had now become linked together.

It may be added in this place, that, subsequent to the failure of the commissioners in effecting the object of their mission, commenced a system of intrigue with several distinguished persons, and especially with members of congress, to whom one at least addressed confidential letters, with the hope of winning them to the royal cause. Some of these letters and propositions at length were made public. General Reed, a member of congress, stated that a proposition had been made to him by Johnstone, through a _lady_, that if he would promote the rëunion of the two countries, he should have any office in the colonies which he might name. His reply was worthy of a Christian and a patriot: "_I am not worth purchasing; but such as I am, the king of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it_."

4. BATTLE OF MONMOUTH.

During the winter of 1777-8, the British army had occupied Philadelphia; the winter-quarters of the American army were at Valley Forge. On the opening of the spring, in consequence of the alliance of France and America, orders were issued to the British general to evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate the royal force in the city and harbor of New York. In pursuance of this resolution, the royal army, now under command of Sir Henry Clinton--General Howe having returned to England--left Philadelphia, and on the 18th of June, passed the Delaware into New Jersey.

Washington immediately quitted his camp, and hung upon the British army, watching a favorable opportunity to offer battle. On the 27th, the British army encamped on some high grounds in the neighborhood of Freehold court-house, in the county of Monmouth.

On the morning of the 28th, General Lee was ordered to take command of five thousand men, and commence the attack.

At first, he declined the honor; but judging, on reflection, that such a procedure would redound to his discredit, he now sought the command at the hands of Lafayette, to whom, on his declining it, it had been tendered.

Lee immediately put his troops in motion for the plain of Monmouth, some four or five miles distant. On approaching it, the British were already in motion. The army was in advance of the baggage-train, which covered miles in extent. The morning was clear, and the sun poured down his heat so fervidly, as seemingly to cause all nature to faint. Before noon, the mercury of the thermometer reached ninety-six. Man and beast panted for breath. The sand-plain became parched as an oven, and water was needed at almost every step. The sufferings of men and horses early became nearly insupportable.

Moreover, it was the _Sabbath_--that day when the hum of life is ordinarily hushed, and when men are commonly with their families in the house of God. We may pause, we trust, to say, that that Sabbath, and the God of that Sabbath, would have been more honored--nor do we believe that the patriot cause would have suffered in the sequel--had Washington, instead of sending out a hostile corps--had he and his troops spent it in paying divine honors to the God of our fathers. It had been still better, could hostile armies have that day grounded their arms, and of that plain made a sanctuary, and there, in the exercise of that friendship and love which the gospel enjoins, worshiped together at a common altar, and before a common Father. But the latter was not to be expected--perhaps, not the former. Other thoughts were occupying those bosoms, and a far different spectacle was that day to be witnessed. Let us not judge severely. We will hope that the honor of God did animate those sons of the Pilgrims. We know that they were true patriots, and that they were fighting for their altars and their firesides. Nor is it to be doubted that they would have preferred the calm and delightful worship of God, with their families, in the sanctuaries of their own quiet villages. But they were summoned to the field of battle, and here, now, we find them soon employed amid scenes of carnage and death.

Wayne was that day in command under Lee. On seeing the British train--horses and waggons, miles in extent--following the army in advance, the former, with his detachment, hastened rapidly forward, with the intent to cut off and capture the train. Meanwhile, Lee, with the rest of his division, took a more circuitous route, designing to attack the corps which had the train in charge. Most unexpectedly, however, just as he was ready to commence the charge, intelligence was received that the entire British army--which was on the retreat, but which had had intimation of Lee's advance--had wheeled about, and were in full march to protect its rear.

Lee had reluctantly taken the command; he was in ill-humor, and, moreover, was probably now appalled at the prospect before him. At all adventures, greatly to his discredit, for as yet he had not commenced action, he ordered a retreat. This movement fell upon Wayne like a thunderbolt, who was himself compelled, by reason of it, to fall back, at the hazard of his entire command.

Washington was still at a distance with the remainder of the army; but was rapidly approaching the theatre of the contest. The distant cannonade impelled him forward. The troops, partaking of his own enthusiasm, if not of his anxiety, laid aside knapsacks--coats--all that encumbered, and amidst dust and heat pressed on to the encounter. At this moment, a horseman was seen approaching from the immediate battle-field. He pressed his horse, and made announcement to Washington that Lee's division, in utter disorder, was in full retreat. For a moment, the latter seemed petrified with astonishment; and the next moment--for it seems he had for some reason dismounted--vaulting upon his saddle, he sprang forward, and like a winged arrow directed his way to the scene of confusion and flight. The instant he was seen by the troops in retreat, "The brave fellows"--we use the stirring language of Headley--"the brave fellows, who had not been half beaten, sent up a shout that was heard the whole length of the line, and '_Long live Washington!_' rent the air. Flinging a hasty inquiry to Osgood, as to the reason, who replied, '_Sir, we are fleeing from a shadow;_' he galloped to the rear, and, reining up his horse beside Lee, bent on him a face of fearful expression, and thundered in his ear, as he leaned over his saddle-bow, '_Sir, I desire to know what is the reason, and whence arises this disorder and confusion!_' It was not the words, but the smothered tone of passion in which they were uttered, and the manner, which was severe as a blow, that made this rebuke so terrible. Wheeling his steed, he spurred up to Oswald's and Stewart's regiments, saying, 'On you I depend to check this pursuit;' and riding along the ranks, he roused their courage to the highest pitch by his stirring appeals; while that glorious shout of '_Long live Washington!_' again shook the field. The sudden gust of passion had swept by; but the storm that ever slumbered in his bosom was now fairly up; and, galloping about on his splendid charger, his tall and commanding form towering above all about him, and his countenance lit up with enthusiasm, he was the impersonation of all that is great and heroic in man. In a moment, the aspect of the field was changed--the retreating mass halted--officers were seen hurrying about in every direction, their shouts and orders ringing above the roar of the enemy's guns. The ranks opened--and, under the galling fire of the British, wheeled, and formed in splendid order. Washington then rode back to Lee, and, pointing to the firm front he had arrayed against the enemy, exclaimed, 'Will you, sir, command in that place?' He replied, 'Yes.'--'Well,' then said he, 'I expect you to check the enemy immediately.' 'Your orders shall be obeyed,' replied the stung commander, 'and I will not be the first to leave the field.' The battle then opened with renewed fury, and Washington hurried back, to bring his own division into the field."

This took time, as the division was still at a distance. Meanwhile, however, the retreat was partially staid. The troops once more rallied. They stood--they fought--fought with unwonted desperation. But the overpowering legions of the enemy pressed hard. Their shouts were deafening--their cannonade appalling and destructive. Lee now attempted to his utmost power to withstand the impetuous shock--but it was entirely beyond the compass of his troops. They were again giving way. A few moments longer, and all would be lost. At this critical juncture, Hamilton appeared, seemingly sent as a messenger from above--crossing the field--his charger covered with foam, and his hair streaming in the wind--Hamilton appeared, and riding up to Lee, said to him: "_My dear general, let us die here rather than retreat._"

What would have been the effect of this soul-stirring and patriotic address of Hamilton, had no succor been at hand, we pretend not to say. They were words of comfort and assurance; and, if necessary to prevent a dishonorable retreat, there doubtless Hamilton, and perhaps now Lee himself, would have surrendered up life. But succor was at hand. Washington with his division had arrived. No time was lost. He issued his orders, and they were obeyed. Sterling, Knox, Wayne, brought up their several commands, and soon the battle was raging, and the whole plains shook under the clangor of arms and the thunder of artillery. For a time, few such spectacles were seen during the Revolutionary war. The heat of the day, we have already said, was intense. Water was not to be had, or rather there was no time to quench parched lips, had there been any. Their thirst added to the sufferings of the troops immeasurably. The tongues of the soldiers became so inflamed and swollen, as not to be retained in their mouths. Yet they fought, and fought with a desperation increased by the very sufferings they endured. The British suffered from the same causes, and fought with the same desperation. And for a time, it was indeed doubtful whose cause would triumph. But the batteries of Knox and Sterling, like volcanoes, hurled death and destruction on every side; while the impetuous Wayne with his columns, torrent-like, spread confusion and dismay in every step of their progress. There was a concentration of effort--and that effort, doubtless the more earnest and effective, for the reason of the previous unwarranted and pusillanimous retreat.

In turn, the British themselves now retreated, and encamped on the spot which Lee's division had occupied in the morning. They had fought with unwonted zeal. Officers and soldiers were exhausted. They coveted rest. They needed repose. It was so with the Americans. "Even Washington's powerful frame was overcome by the heat and toil he had passed through; and as he stood begrimed with the dust and the smoke of the battle, and wiped his brow, the perspiration fell in streams from his horse, which looked as if it had been dragged through a muddy stream, rather than rode by a living man."

Yet, wearied as he was--wearied and worn down as were his officers and men--Washington could not consent so to terminate the day. A further duty remained ere he slept. That duty was to dislodge the enemy from the position which he had taken. His officers--his army sympathized with him; they were willing to put forth one more effort to secure all that they had promised themselves, and which in the morning had seemed so practicable.

Two brigades were therefore ordered to attack the British at their post--on the right and left. The battle was now renewed, and renewed with all the spirit and determination of an earlier hour. It continued, however, but for a brief period. The sun was fast descending when the second battle began, and had set ere the several corps had really attained their proposed positions. It was fortunate, probably, that the contest was interrupted. Both armies had done enough. Had Washington succeeded in dislodging the enemy, his troops were too much spent to have followed up the victory.

There they now paused. Darkness soon set in. Too much overcome even to administer to the wants of nature, the troops of both armies flung themselves upon the parched ground, and slept. They slept in sight of each other, and they slept strong and deep. With the morning light, Washington had decided to renew the battle. He, therefore, instead of retiring to his marquee, wrapped himself in his cloak, and sunk upon the earth in the midst of his soldiers.