of their fury. If the Congress, yielding to the artifices and importunities of the enemies of Washington, had been induced to take the resolutions we have related, they were nevertheless not ignorant how dangerous, in affairs of state, are changes made without due reflection. They were perfectly aware that France, whose intervention they hoped soon to obtain, would never repose in a man, English born, as was Gates, the unbounded confidence she had already placed in the American chief. They could not but perceive that, though there might be a warrior possessed of talents equal to those of Washington, there was none who could rival him in fidelity, in rectitude, in goodness, and still less in the esteem of the people, and the affection of the soldiers. Upon these considerations, the Congress maintained a firm stand against all intrigues, and manifested no appearance of a disposition to take the supreme command from one who had approved himself so worthy to hold it. Washington was fully apprised of the artifices that were employed to diminish his well earned reputation; far from allowing them to intimidate him, he did not even appear to notice them. He indulged none of that secret discontent which men of weak minds, or whose hearts are devoured by ambition, are too apt, in similar circumstances to cherish against their country; his zeal for his duty never experienced the smallest remission. This conjuncture certainly enabled him to exhibit his moderation and his constancy in all their splendor; it proved that he could vanquish himself. He was in the midst of an army dejected by repeated defeats, destitute of every accommodation, and reduced to the verge of famine. Gates, at the same time, shone with all the lustre of recent victory, and all the renown of his ancient exploits. As to Washington, lacerated by the public prints, denounced in anonymous letters, publicly accused by the representation of different provinces, even the Congress semed ready to abandon him to the fury of his enemies. In the midst of a storm so formidable, he maintained entire, not only the stability, but even the calmness of his mind; all devotion to his country, he seemed to have forgotten himself. The twenty-third of January he wrote from Valley Forge, that neither interest nor ambition had engaged him in the public service; that he had accepted, and not solicited, the command; that he had not undertaken it without that distrust of himself, felt by every man not destitute of all knowledge, from the apprehension of not being able to perform worthily the part assigned him; that, as far as his abilities had permitted, he had fulfilled his duty, aiming as invariably at the object proposed, as the magnetic needle points at the pole; that as soon as the nation should no longer desire his services, or another should be found more capable than himself, of satisfying its expectations, he should quit the helm, and return to a private station, with as much pleasure as ever the wearied traveller retired to rest; that he wished from the bottom of his heart, his successor might experience more propitious gales, and less numerous obstacles; that if his exertions had not answered the expectations of his fellow-citizens, no one could lament it more sincerely than himself; but that he thought it proper to add, a day would come, when the interests of America would no longer exact of him an impenetrable mystery; and that until then, he would not be the first to reveal truths which might prejudice his country, whatever wrongs to himself might result from his silence. By the concluding words, he alluded to the insidious proceedings of the ambitious, the shameful malversations of the army contractors, and the peculations or delinquencies of all those by whose fault the army was reduced to such an extremity of distress and calamity. May this admirable moderation of Washington teach those in elevated stations, that popular rewards and public favor should never be measured by the standard of self love, and that though the rulers of nations are often ungrateful, men who sincerely love their country, may still find consolations and glory in knowing how to control even a just resentment. Washington, in the midst of so trying a crisis, not only always kept the mastery of himself, but he often also consulted the Congress upon the military operations he meditated, upon the measures to be taken, in order to fill up the regiments, and, finally, upon all the means of placing the army in a condition to commence the ensuing campaign with the necessary resources. It was known that the British general expected large reenforcements from Europe; Washington was desirous of resuming hostilities early, in order to attack him before they arrived. This plan was of extreme importance; he was accordingly indefatigable in urging the Congress and the governments of the several states, by frequent letters, that the preparations for the campaign might experience no delay. All would equally have wished to comply with the desires of the commander-in-chief; but deliberations are taken of necessity but tardily in popular governments. What ought to have been ready in the beginning of spring, was but scantily forth coming in the course of all the summer. Even the organisation of the army was not completed until about the last of May. Until then there was observed an extreme disparity, not only between the regiments of different states, but even between those of the same state; a confusion productive of singular detriment to the service. But by a decree of the 27th of May, the infantry, cavalry, artillery, and engineers, were organised upon an uniform system in all parts of the army. These delays might have proved essentially prejudicial to the American arms, if unforeseen events had not prevented the British generals from opening the campaign so soon as they would have desired. They contented themselves with detaching their light troops to scour the country in the neighborhood of Philadelphia and the nearer parts of New Jersey, in order to forage and secure the roads. These excursions produced nothing remarkable, except it be that an English detachment having surprised, in the month of March, a party of Americans at the bridges of Quinton and Hancock, all the soldiers who composed it were barbarously massacred, while crying for quarter. The English, about the same time, undertook an expedition up the Delaware, in order to destroy the magazines of Bordentown, and to take or burn the vessels which the Americans had withdrawn up the river between Philadelphia and Trenton. In both these enterprises they succeeded to their wishes. They attempted also to surprise the marquis de la Fayette, who was encamped at Baron Hill, on the left bank of the Schuylkill, with a considerable body of troops; but he baffled their enterprise by his activity and judicious dispositions, although in the commencement of the action, general Grant had obtained some advantage over him. While these events were passing on land, hostilities were also prosecuted upon sea, where the Americans daily acquired reputation. They manifested so bold and enterprising a spirit in their maritime expeditions, that the British commerce suffered on their part incredible losses. Since the commencement of the war in 1776, they had already captured upwards of five hundred English vessels, of Emboldened by different sizes, and all with cargoes of great value. their success, even the coasts of Great Britain were not secure from their insults, where they daily took numerous prizes. The royal navy, however, opposed their enterprises, and took, many of their ships in the seas of America and of Europe; but the advantage, nevertheless, remained very decidedly with the Americans. In the meantime, sir Henry Clinton was arrived at Philadelphia, having been appointed commander-in-chief of all the royal forces, in the place of sir William Howe, who returned to England. Dissatisfied with the ministers, who had not sent him all the reenforcements he considered necessary to the decision of the war, he had offered his resignation, and the ministers had accepted it with promptitude. They did not forgive him for not having more effectually cooperated with Burgoyne, and for not having displayed all the vigor, in the conduct of the war, which they would have desired. And certainly he rather merits the praise of a prudent than of an adventurous commander. If commendation is due him for the vigor and rare ability he actually displayed in certain expeditions, perhaps he will not escape reprehension for not having undertaken any of greater magnitude and of more importance. In the commencement of the war, when the minds in America were most inflamed, and the English had not yet collected their troops, or received their reenforcements, perhaps this circumspection and this dilatory system of war, was well judged; for never should all be committed to fortune with only a partial exertion of force; and the enemy is attacked at the greatest advantage after his ardor has already cooled. But when a great part of the Americans, exhausted by expenses, wearied by a long war and by the scarcity of every thing, were become more disposed to return to their former condition, and when the English had received all the reenforcements they could expect, the British general should have placed all his hopes of victory in the rapidity and terror of his arms. This course seems to have been recommended to him by prudence itself, when it is considered, that besides the probability of victory which a regular battle always offered to the English, the total defeat of the army of Congress involved, if not infallibly, at least in all likelihood, the absolute submission of America; while, on the other hand, the rout of the British army would not have rendered the Americans more inflexible than they were, and moreover, would not in the least have changed the dispositions of the French government, which, since the capitulation of Saratoga, manifestly tended to war. The consequences of a decisive victory were, therefore, more advantageous than those of the most complete discomfiture could have been detrimental. Howe valued himself upon being thought very sparing of the blood of his soldiers, as he could only draw reeaforcements from so great a distance; and, perhaps, he feared that if he lost a pitched battle, the inhabitants might rise in fury and utterly exterminate the relics of his routed army. But so sanguinary an overthrow was not to be apprehended with such soldiers and with such officers. Besides, in the worst event, he was sure of a retreat on board the fleet, by rallying the troops in a place accessible to it. On any hypothesis, things were now got to such a head, that it was essential to strike a decisive blow; for, upon the continuance of a war in which France was about to take part, the independence of America could scarcely appear doubtful. However the truth was, Howe certainly possessed an elevated and generous mind; he had also the desire, though rarely the power, to prevent the atrocities perpetrated by his troops; no curb could restrain the brutal fury of the Germans who followed his standard. Humane towards his soldiers, affable with his officers, a foe to disorder and violence, he was the object of general esteem and affection. Before his departure, the officers of the army were disposed to give him a brilliant carousal; it consisted in jousts and tournaments, marches, evolutions, triumphal arches and honorary inscriptions. This entertainment, from the variety of ingredients, was called a medley. The evening terminated with a magnificent exhibition of fireworks. Sir William Howe embarked, a few days after, on board the frigate Andromeda. He arrived the second of July at London, where the ministerial party assailed him with torrents of invective, while that in opposition exalted him above the stars. END OF BOOK EIGHTH. BOOK NINTH. 1778. ON hearing of the catastrophe which had befallen Burgoyne, and of the almost fruitless victories of Howe, the British nation was seized with sullen affliction and discontent. The dejection was as profound as the hopes conceived had been sanguine, and the promises of ministers magnificent. The parliament had acquiesced in all their demands, with respect to the prosecution of the war, and they had not failed to transmit to America, with promptitude, whatever was essential to the success of the preceding campaign. The generals invested with command, and the soldiers who had fought under them, were not inferior in reputation to any that England, or even Europe could produce. Hence it was inferred, that there must exist in the very nature of things, some insurmountable obstacle to victory, and the issue of the war began to be despaired of. For better or stronger armies could not be despatched to America, than those which had already been sent; and if the Americans, in the outset of their revolution, had not only withstood the English troops, but if they had even vanquished and disarmed them, of what might they not be thought capable in future, when, deriving new confidence from their successes, they should have consolidated their state by practice and experience, and availed themselves of the time which had been allowed them, to develope still greater forces against their enemies? Accordingly, so far from there being any prospect of gaining what was not possessed, the danger appeared imminent of loosing what was. Great fears were entertained especially for Canada, where the garrisons were extremely feeble, and the victorious army was upon the frontiers. No little apprehension was also felt, lest, in the heat of parties, some commotion might break out within that province, prejudicial to the interests of the king; independence being an enticing lure for every people, and especially for distant nations, and the example of the Americans was likely to influence their neighbors. Nor could it be dissembled, besides, that the Canadians, being French, for the most part, their national aversion would tend to fortify this natural proclivity, and finally, perhaps, produce some formidable convulsion. The British government beheld with grief, that enlistments became every day more difficult in America, where the loyalists appeared intimidated by the recent victories of the republicans; and even in England, where the spirit of opposition showed itself more powerfully than ever, an extreme repugnance was evidenced to bearing arms in a distant and dangerous war, which many pronounced unjust and cruel, and which, even at that epoch, every thing announced must terminate ingloriously. Nor was the prospect more flattering of obtaining new troops from Germany; for |