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the Delaware, in order to destroy the magazines of Bordentown, and to take or burn the vessels which the Americans had withdrawn up the river between Philadelphia and Trenton.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 different sizes, and all with cargoes of great value. Emboldened by 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 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 reenforcements 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.

war.

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

the enormous armies kept on foot by the emperor, and the king of Prussia, exacted such a multitude of recruits, that the agents of England could not hope to procure them in any considerable number. Moreover, the intervention of France and the commissioners of Congress with those sovereigns, or that disposition to favor the American cause, which unequivocally manifested itself in all parts of Europe, had already determined several German princes to refuse a passage through their states to those feeble parties of recruits which, with incredible pains and expense, were gleaned by the British agents. But there was one consideration which, more than any other, impeded the success of their negotiations; the moment was manifestly approaching when France would declare herself in favor of the Americans, no longer by secret intrigues, or the tacit protection afforded to their privateers, but openly, and with arms in hand. Already all her preparations for war, and especially her maritime armaments, were completed. The late victories of the Americans upon the borders of the Hudson, and even the constancy they had exhibited after their reverses upon the banks of the Delaware, were sufficient pledges that their cause might be espoused without any hazard of finding in them a fickle, a faithless, or a feeble ally. The occasion so long and so ardently desired by the French for humbling the British power and arrogance, was at length offered them by propitious fortune. Their wishes were admirably served by the blind obstinacy of the British ministers and generals, who had judged as erroneously of the nature and importance of things, as of the valor and constancy of the Americans. It was not at all doubted in England, that France would avail herself of the means which presented themselves to her grasp, to repair her ancient losses. This inevitable crisis took strong hold of the public attention, and all perceived the necessity either of a long, and in no common degree perilous struggle, or of an accommodation upon little honorable terms, with that very people whose petitions had always been rejected, and who had been exasperated by so many outrages, before they were assailed by so cruel a war. Though the ministers and their adherents failed not to advance plausible reasons to justify themselves, and to authorise their conduct, yet the general opinion inclined to consider it as the more prudent counsel to listen at length to the demands of the Americans, and to adopt the course of procedure repeatedly proposed by the orators of the opposition, who had recommended that hostilities should be suspended, and a negotiation set on foot, which might lead to an admissible adjustment. Heavy complaints were heard on all parts, that so many favorable occasions for reconciliation, had been allowed to escape, as if it was intended to wait the arrival of that fatal moment when it would no longer be possible either to negotiate with honor, or to fight with glory; and when, instead of any hope of subduing or conciliating America, there was too much reason to fear the loss of other inestimable portions of the British empire.

All the attempts made previous to that time, for reducing the Americans to submission by force of arms, having proved completely abortive, it was bitterly regretted that, before undertaking new efforts, the failure of which must secure the triumph of the enemy, there had not been a disposition to listen to the conciliatory propositions submitted to parliament by the Earl of Chatham, in the sitting of the thirtieth of May, of the year last elapsed. Foreseeing the calamities which were about to fall upon his country, since the ministers were resolved to prosecute extreme measures, and perceiving distinctly that to the dangers of an intestine struggle, would soon be added the perils of a foreign war, this illustrious man, though bowed with age, and laboring under a painful malady, had caused himself to be carried to the House of Lords, where, in that strain of admirable eloquence, which always chained attention, he exerted the most magnanimous efforts to appease animosities, to extinguish the flames of war, to procure the repeal of those disastrous laws which had lighted them, and opposed an insuperable bar to the return of concord.

My lords,' he said, 'this is a flying moment, perhaps but six weeks' left to arrest the dangers that surround us. The gathering storm may break; it has already opened, and in part burst. It is difficult for government, after all that has passed, to shake hands with the defiers of the king, defiers of the parliament, defiers of the people. I am a defier of nobody; but if an end is not put to this war, there is an end to this country. I do not trust my judgment in my present state of health; this is the judgment of my better days; the result of forty years attention to America.

6

They are rebels; but what are they rebels for? Surely not for defending their unquestionable rights? What have these rebels done heretofore? I remember when they raised four regiments on their own bottom, and took Louisburgh from the veteran troops of France. But their excesses have been great. I do not mean their panegyric; but must observe in attenuation, the erroneous and infatuated counsels which have prevailed; the door to mercy and justice has been shut against them. But they may still be taken up upon the grounds of their former submission. I state to you the importance of America; it is a double market; the market of consumption and the market of supply. This double market for millions, with naval stores, you are giving to your hereditary rival. America has carried you through four wars, and will now carry you to your death, if you don't take things in time. In the sportsman's phrase, when you have found yourselves at fault, you must try back. You have ransacked every corner of Lower Saxony; but forty thousand German boors never can subdue ten times the number of British freemen; they may ravage, they cannot conquer.