Washington

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  “General Howe has a grand maneuvre in view or has made an inglorious retreat”—that was Washington’s comment, and it was accompanied almost in the same breath by orders for the dispatch of additional troops to New York. Washington continued to believe the strategic importance of New York so great that he was not justified in delaying the march to that city of all his Army except regiments needed to garrison Boston. On arrival in New York, the whole force was to be under the command of General Putnam till Washington moved Headquarters there. Washington transacted business as fast as he could get it before him. To regular matters were added the vexatious details of moving nine or ten thousand men; and on this were superimposed the ceremonials of congratulation and farewell.

  The Massachusetts Assembly presented Washington an address on March 28 which praised his achievements as if the man who had wrought the deliverance of Boston was assured a place among the immortals. A few days later he received from the Selectmen of Boston a brief, laudatory address, which pleased him almost as much as the paper from the General Court. Harvard, in its turn, voted him the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, but delays in preparing the diploma prevented its delivery.

  Had Washington in the last days of March reviewed his conduct of this first campaign, he would have told himself, as an honest-minded man, that he had somewhat underestimated the effective strength of Howe and overestimated the mobility of the Boston forces at sea and on land. A positive mistake, perhaps the most serious Washington made, was the dispatch of Arnold’s small, ill-equipped and poorly provisioned force over a wilderness route concerning which information was inadequate and inaccurate. He appears to have exaggerated what one thousand men could do in that savage country. Daring sometimes could defy men, but it could not disregard nature. The other mistake, that of not seizing Dorchester Heights earlier, was it really a mistake? If Howe or Gage had taken a chance of securing the high ground of the peninsula, Washington might have been forced to buy it in blood or to deliver his assault under great disadvantage up narrow Boston Neck. When the British failed to occupy the elevations that overlooked the town, then Washington doubtless reasoned that he could not afford to do so prior to March, because that would have inspired a British attack which he might not be able to beat off with the powder he had. His apparent lack of aggressiveness was lack of powder.

  Washington’s mistakes had been few and explicable; his shortcomings—the negative as set against the positive—had been more numerous. He had not shown any large skill or any sense of direct responsibility for the enlistment of men. He had devoted too much of his own time to “paper work.” A third shortcoming, primarily attributable to distance, was his virtual failure to exercise the full functions of Commander-in-Chief. Washington had a realistic and probably a correct sense of the fundamental strategy of New England and of New York, but he had not demonstrated he could supervise all the plays on the continental chessboard.

  Washington had demonstrated that he knew how to make an army out of a congeries of jealous contingents, and he had learned while he had been teaching. He had studied gunnery in the track of the missiles and now he had sufficient acquaintance with that arm to know what he could not expect artillery to do. This self-instruction was acquired while his youthful chief of artillery, Henry Knox, was getting mastery of the cannon. General and Colonel must have gained knowledge together by conversation and test. It was different with Washington’s adherence to the great fundamental of concentration of force, and different, too, with that categorical imperative of American defence—sea power. Much was taught Washington and, through him, his country, by his observation of what a few American ships in the hands of courageous men had done in cutting off supplies from Boston, but, basically, he seemed to have from the beginning of the campaign a correct understanding of the larger principles of naval warfare and of American defence. These doctrines, the quintessence of common sense, had been absorbed as matters of course by a man who was the personification of that quality. Moreover, Washington was learning more and more about men. He had shown that he could discharge the business of an army with justice, diligence and excellent judgment. His absolute integrity had been demonstrated again and again; his singleminded devotion to his task had been exemplified in his refusal to leave the camps for any personal reason during the whole of the siege; the dignity and dispatch with which he transacted business, and his courteous good humor in dealing with all comers created an aura.

  Washington had fulfilled the highest expectations of his admirers and had exceeded by far anything that would have been anticipated by those who realized how vastly out of scale with his experience as a Colonel were his responsibilities as Commander-in-Chief. He had not gained this esteem by genius, in the sense of specialized ability incomparably greater than that of the average man. He had won this place by the balance of his parts. In nothing transcendent, he was credited with possessing in ample measure every quality of character that administration of the Army demanded. Already he had become a moral rallying-post, the embodiment of the purpose, patience and determination necessary for triumph of the revolutionary cause.

  Nowhere was there a hint by Washington that he had surprised himself by his accomplishments in front of Boston. He wrote and acted as if he had been schooled and prepared for the victory that had been won, and he was proud of his achievements and of the applause they had drawn. A few days after the British mastheads disappeared over the horizon, he wrote John Augustine:

  I believe I may with great truth affirm that no man perhaps since the first institution of armies ever commanded one under more difficult circumstances, than I have done. To enumerate the particulars would fill a volume. . . . I am happy, however, to find and to hear from different quarters that my reputation stands fair, that my conduct hitherto has given universal satisfaction. The addresses which I have received, and which I suppose will be published, from the General Court of the Colony—the same as our General Assembly—and from the selectmen of Boston upon the evacuation of the town and my approaching departure from the Colony, exhibits a pleasing testimony of their approbation of my conduct and of their personal regard, which I have found in various other instances, and which, in retirement, will afford many comfortable reflections.

  In this spirit, on April 4, he left Boston for New York, a prouder man by far, and more self-confident, than when he had arrived nine months previously to undertake his first campaign. He had won; he believed he could do it again.

  CHAPTER / 10

  Washington’s route to New York was by Providence and the towns near Long Island Sound in order that he might expedite the march of his troops; Martha and her entourage proceeded via Hartford. She had made a good, if not a dazzling impression on Massachusetts society. Washington received warm welcome by Governor Cooke and some of the gentlemen of Providence on the sixth. By the afternoon of April 13 he was in New York.

  In the city Tories were diminishing in number but still were strong and not lacking in confidence, because they had the protection of British men-of-war that could set the town afire at any hour. The “Sons of Liberty” were not cowed by the cannon of the ships and not disposed to let the Loyalists plot mischief. Feeling, already tense, was rising daily. Some defensive works had been completed by militia who had just been discharged; other fortification was in progress. Putnam was in command with Heath under him; troops were fewer than Washington had expected to find and were rashly dispersed.

  The situation was disorganized and confused because it lacked the experienced direction of Charles Lee who had designated sites but had left execution in its first stage when he had received command of a newly created Southern Department. Lee had thought it “more prudent” that he be dispatched to Canada, because of his knowledge of French, but he wrote of the southern command, “I shall obey with alacrity and hope with success.” Washington had said: “As a Virginian, I must rejoice at the change; but, as an American, I think you would have done more essential service to the common cause in Canada.” Private
ly Washington had begun to doubt the stability, perhaps the dependability, of his senior lieutenant. “He is,” Washington had written his brother Jack, “the first officer in military knowledge and experience we have in the whole Army. He is zealously attached to the cause, honest and well-meaning but rather fickle and violent I fear in his temper.”

  Before Washington could master the details of the fortifications Lee had left unfinished, the Commander-in-Chief was compelled to deal with a dismal situation in Canada. Congress had decided on February 15 to name three commissioners to proceed to Canada and had determined to send to the St. Lawrence an officer of high rank and recognized ability. As Schuyler was physically unfit to take the field, Congress had chosen John Thomas for this mission and had made him a Major General. Thomas had left Roxbury March 22 and on the twenty-eighth had reached Albany. There he had caught the echo of much doubt and misery voiced by officers and men in Canada. When fragmentary reports could be pieced together during April, they showed many discouragements. Gen. David Wooster had transferred his headquarters to the camp of the small American force that was keeping up the pretence of a siege of Quebec; Arnold had gone to Montreal, which was still in the hands of Continental troops. Before Arnold had left Quebec, he had been hampered by the sullenness of discontented men and the presence of no less than five feet of snow. He had four hundred sick and wounded, though he himself had almost recovered. After Wooster reached the lines across from Quebec, he had an even gloomier tale to tell. The American forces on that front numbered between two and three thousand, of whom not more than half were fit for duty. Many were determined to leave April 15, when their enlistment expired. New troops were arriving slowly and were of small use because of the prevalence of smallpox. Col. Moses Hazen had sent Schuyler a discouraging report. “We have brought on ourselves by mismanagement,” Hazen wrote bluntly, “what Governor Carleton himself never could effect.”

  Before the worst of this was known, Congress had reaffirmed its resolution to add Canada to the United Colonies and to retrieve the defeat Montgomery had sustained. Washington had been directed to detach four battalions to Canada. In addition, the able Commissioners of Congress—Franklin, Samuel Chase and Charles Carroll—had been given instructions, vested with discretionary power to raise companies, and started on their way.

  It now was time for Washington to do his part to win Canada to the Colonial cause. Washington alone could supply trained men in sufficient strength to shift the balance again. Desire to destroy the enemy’s strongholds in Canada disposed him to relax his insistence on concentration of force and comply vigorously with orders he would in any event have obeyed. He was inclined, also, to give more credit than formerly to the reports that Howe’s fleet was bound for Halifax, whence it would be easy to detach men and transport up the St. Lawrence to Quebec. Washington felt confident that New York was too much a prize strategically for a competent British commander to ignore. In the same way, he regarded Canada as a base so convenient and valuable for the British that the Americans were justified in risks and sacrifices to wrest the northern province from the enemy.

  The strategy of the struggle was changing. It was becoming a contest for the control of the Hudson: If Howe could seize and occupy the mouth of the river, he might be able to sever the eastern Colonies from the others. If Washington could close the St. Lawrence between Quebec and Montreal, he could prevent the use of that river for operations against the Hudson. It was a dramatic race—Washington to Quebec, Howe to New York.

  Four battalions were made ready to proceed up the Hudson under the command of William Thompson. By the time Washington received word on April 27 of the arrival of these troops in Albany, he had new orders from Philadelphia: He was to send six additional regiments to Canada and if he thought this force insufficient to assure the capture of Quebec, he was to indicate whether still more men could be spared from New York. Washington immediately designated the regiments to go and named John Sullivan to the command. On the question of still larger assistance for the Canadian expedition he said: “. . . I should wish indeed that the army in Canada should be more powerfully reenforced; at the same time I am conscious that the trusting this important post (which is now become the Grand Magazine of America) to the handful of men remaining here is running too great a risk: The securing this post and Hudsons River is to us also of so great importance that I cannot at present advise the sending any more troops from hence.” Then he went on to explain that his officers thought a garrison of ten thousand necessary for New York.

  In restless, divided New York the soldiers were subjected to temptations different from those they had faced in small New England villages and in camps from which women were excluded. The neighborhood known satirically as “the holy ground” was shocking to some of the men of Puritan descent. Wild tales were told of what was done by denizens of dark places. Many of the soldiers went to the dives with the result that venereal disease was prevalent in some commands. There were, too, numerous cases of desertion and some instances of drunkenness, combined with so much disorder that the offenders had to be brought before general court-martial. A considerable part of the Commander-in-Chief’s orders on disciplinary matters dealt with camp sanitation and with the protection of the houses, trees and gardens of citizens. Washington requested the Committee of Safety to put an end to trading with the enemy and, when that did not suffice, he served notice that traffickers would be punished.

  The defences of New York were strengthened. Along with his scheme of fortification, Lee had given Congress his analysis of the tactical possibilities of coping with an adversary who commanded the waters around New York City. Lee’s theory was that the town scarcely could be made a tenable fortress, but that it could be “made a most advantageous field of battle, so advantageous, indeed, that if our people behave with common spirit, and the commanders are men of discretion, it might cost the enemy many thousands of men to get possession of it.”

  Long Island Sound could be dominated by the Americans; Long Island itself could be defended by four to five thousand men with redoubts at its western end. Cross fire from these fortifications and those of New York would make it almost certain that East River could be closed to the British. North River was so wide and deep that the enemy could navigate it but might have less power to do mischief than had been assumed. The ground offered some protection from naval ordnance; batteries could keep men-of-war at a distance. Barriers and redoubts must be erected; King’s Bridge must be so fortified that communication would be “free and open” with Connecticut, to which New York would have to look for reenforcements. New Jersey could not be relied upon in an hour of sudden danger because the North River made easy contact precarious.

  Lee had been able to interpret only a part of his program into terms of parapets and ditches before he had been sent south. Washington had to complete what Lee had begun. That was the easier part of the task. More troops had to be made available for service whenever the lookouts signalled that the King’s canvas was visible on the horizon. Washington had barely 8300 men fit for duty as of April 23. He appealed to the New York Committee of Safety to provide 2000 to 2500 militia for an emergency and, while setting no figure, he made a like request of New Jersey. Connecticut, too, was enjoined to have men ready for the instant succor of their comrades in New York.

  MAP / 9

  NEW YORK, 1776

  Bickering and argument between Whig and Tory became more violent. If the Loyalist looked down the harbor towards the masts of the Asia and prayed for the arrival of a delivering fleet, the Americans talked increasingly of proclaiming independence and of jailing spies and traitors. The anniversary of Concord and Lexington was past. Uncertainty had prevailed for a year: there soon must be a decision. Washington sensed or saw it all from his Headquarters at Abraham Mortier’s, where Martha had joined him April 17.

  Of honor, there was as much as he who loved the approval of his fellowmen could ask. John Adams informed him that Congress had voted thanks and a gold medal
for Washington’s accomplishments at Boston. As author of this motion and chairman of the committee on the design of a medal, Adams wished Washington’s “sentiments concerning a proper” device. Formal notification, approved by Congress on April 2 and duly signed by Hancock, overtook Washington on the seventeenth. It contained a eulogistic review of the campaign. Then followed official thanks which Washington was to communicate to the Army. The General’s reply was, in part, an assurance “that it will ever be my highest ambition to approve myself a faithful servant of the public; and that to be in any degree instrumental in procuring to my American brethren a restitution of their just rights and privileges will constitute my chief happiness.” Then, in justice to his men, Washington said: “They were indeed at first ’a band of undisciplined husbandmen’ but it is (under God) to their bravery and attention to their duty that I am indebted for that success which procured for me the only reward I wish to receive, the affection and esteem of my countrymen.” Always the approval and applause of his fellow-men had been the supreme goal, next that of acquiring a fortune. It had been to deserve this approval that he had shaped his life and disciplined his spirit. Now, in larger measure than ever, he had honor and something already approaching veneration.

  Now, he had to contend with an acute shortage of small arms, with the slow progress of recruiting, the termination July 1 of the enlistment of the riflemen, and the possibility that neglect of the refortification of Boston might invite a return of the British. Artemas Ward had presented his resignation as Major General on the grounds of ill-health, but Congress had failed to name a successor. Ward remained, though he still asked to be relieved. Washington had no high opinion of Ward and said nothing to indicate regret at the news that he had decided to leave the Army.