Washington

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  Then came news that threatened to change everything. The morning of September 1 brought a letter of August 31 which announced that the British fleet had sailed from New York. Washington’s immediate conclusion was that these warships were trying to intercept the French squadron from Newport. The fleet now had reenforcements, identified as Hood’s fleet and counted at thirteen. Total British strength, therefore, was twenty ships of the line, enough to overwhelm Barras. On the other hand, if Barras joined de Grasse and the two met Hood and Graves, many a British standard might fall. De Grasse alone might worst the two. If either de Grasse or Barras reached the Chesapeake and the British did not, then Cornwallis assuredly would be captured unless Lafayette most improbably let him slip past. One contingency remained, affrighting and perhaps fatal: Suppose the combined British fleets, with reenforcements for Cornwallis, should get to Virginia waters ahead of de Grasse—what would happen then?

  Much business lay at hand on September 2. The American Army marched through Philadelphia in a cloud of dust that could not choke enthusiasm, but pleasures were alloyed and perplexities were aggravated by the fateful questions, Where was de Grasse; what had befallen Barras? Excellent reports from Lafayette of his measures to hamper Cornwallis were supplemented by dispatches in which Greene suggested substantially what Washington hoped to be able to do in the South. All this was gratifying and might be reassuring if Barras escaped and de Grasse arrived early with superior force. The contingency was similar in nature to that which Washington had faced without flinching over and over again, when the American cause had hung on some wretched uncontrollable “if.” The difference was in scale. This time the “if” almost certainly would determine whether the war would be dragged on feebly or would be ended in swift victory and a peace of independence.

  In half hope, half apprehension, Washington arranged in Philadelphia for the repair of roads he was to use on the southward march and, as there no longer was possibility of concealing the objective of the Army, he called on New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland for supplies. On the morning of the fifth he said farewell to Philadelphia and au revoir to Rochambeau, who elected to go by water to Chester. Three miles of sombre riding southward from Chester. Then a horseman on the road ahead, an express: Admiral de Grasse is in the Chesapeake with twenty-eight ships of the line and three thousand troops!

  De Grasse had arrived with a powerful fleet and with troops more numerous than those of the American detachment under Lincoln! Joyfully Washington directed his cavalcade to turn around and trot back to Chester, in order that he might await Rochambeau’s landing and announce the glorious tidings. Lafayette and the French reenforcements now could prevent the retreat of Cornwallis by land; de Grasse could cut off all relief from the sea—that was the prospect. As Washington talked of this, Rochambeau’s vessel hove in sight. The waiting American General forgot his dignity the moment he recognized the figure of the Count on deck. Washington took off his hat, pulled out his handkerchief and waved both with wide sweeps of his arms. When Rochambeau stepped ashore, Washington embraced his astonished comrade. Victory was ahead, the first clear-cut major victory he ever had won in the field. He had been waiting and working six years for that!

  On the morning of September 6, Washington pushed swiftly to Head of Elk. There he announced in General Orders the arrival of de Grasse: “As no circumstance could possibly have happened more opportunely in point of time, no prospect could ever have promised more important successes, and nothing but our want of exertions can probably blast the pleasing prospects before us.” To bring more sunshine to clearing skies, he hinted that a month’s pay might be forthcoming, a half-promise that Robert Morris contrived to redeem to the extent of twenty thousand dollars in specie, the first Continental pay ever issued the troops in “hard money.”

  In projecting now the strategy of his future operations, Washington overcame a measure of the caution that long years of defensive war had made second nature to him. “Nothing now gives me uneasiness,” Washington wrote his Chief Engineer, “but the two things you mention, not hearing from the Count de Barras . . . and the resolution for the departure of the fleet at a certain time.” Word was sent de Grasse that the utmost expedition would be employed in pushing the column forward and that, meantime, his companions in arms were confident he would do everything possible to prevent the escape of Cornwallis. Final loading and troop movement were left to Lincoln; Washington prepared to hurry forward, with Rochambeau and Chastellux, to join Lafayette.

  After an early start for Baltimore from Head of Elk on the eighth, Washington set so rapid a pace that his French colleagues decided to spare their horses and their thighs by letting him dash ahead while they followed at less exhausting speed. Fast as Washington rode, the news of his coming outstripped him. When he approached the town during the afternoon, he found Capt. Nicholas Moore’s light dragoon militia drawn up to escort him. After darkness, every part of the town was illuminated in his honor.

  With a single member of his military staff, Washington set out September 9 in an effort to have a day on his own plantation before guests arrived. At length, in deepening shadows, Washington dismounted where he had not set foot for six years and four months. Much of interest to the master of Mount Vernon was to be seen on the morning of the tenth, but duties more immediate awaited a host who was to entertain under his own roof the staffs of Rochambeau and Chastellux, as well as the two Generals themselves and his own “family.”

  Dinner was made ready for a large company, made ready with ease, because there was no shortage at Mount Vernon of any food needed to load a table in summer. Washington’s military family arrived just at meal time and no doubt approved both the cooking and the abundance of their General’s home. That evening Rochambeau and his aides received welcome to the best quarters their host could offer. The next day, September 11, Chastellux and his staff reached Mount Vernon and had the same handshake. Jonathan Trumbull, Jr., who was glimpsing for the first time the life of a great plantation, wrote admiringly in his diary: “A numerous family now present. All accommodated. An elegant seat and situation, great appearance of opulence and real exhibitions of hospitality and princely entertainment.”

  The weariness of his fellow-travelers and the delights of home kept Washington on the Potomac September 11. He still had no report of Barras and none of any engagement with Cornwallis; but there were ugly tidings of the old persistent foe—hunger. Little or no flour was reaching the troops between the James and the York, because drought had shut down the mills. Militia were subsisting, in part, on “roastening ears” of green corn, four for each man daily. Washington immediately wrote an appeal to the Governor of Maryland for supplies that could be sent quickly down Chesapeake Bay. Even in these matters, the commander did not eclipse the host.

  On the twelfth, Washington left home once again and rode straight to bad news. Between Colchester and Dumfries he met a rider with dispatches for Congress. The man said that de Grasse, hearing the enemy was off the Virginia Capes, had carried his fleet to sea, engaged the British and then disappeared with them. The outcome had not been reported when the messenger left the Virginia Peninsula. Anxiety rose instantly. The possibilities were dark, but at the moment they dictated one order only from Washington—that the boats coming from Head of Elk should put their troops ashore or, if they were in harbor, stay there and await further instructions. The cavalcade rode on, but eager, confident hope had been chilled. The familiar and remorseless contingencies of war were nearer. Instead of certainty of success there was at least a chance of a great disaster.

  The company of horsemen who reached Williamsburg on the fourteenth had been thinned to twelve by hard driving, the dispatch of aides on special errands, and the tightened rein of those who had rather miss a formal entry than endure a furious pace. Rochambeau and Adjutant General Hand had remained with Washington; a few members of the two staffs had kept their saddles, half in discomfort and half in grumbling admiration of seniors who endured so hard a journey. Wash
ington rode through the camp of Virginia militia without ceremony, but when he approached the French camp he thought it courteous to dismount and wait. In a short while up rode Lafayette and Gov. Thomas Nelson of Virginia, who was in direct command of the state militia. Close behind them was General the Marquis Saint-Simon-Montblérn, head of the French troops that had arrived with de Grasse. Lafayette dismounted instantly and clasped Washington enthusiastically in his arms. Then he presented Saint-Simon. Saint-Simon invited the Commander-in-Chief to ride through his camp where his troops were eager to see their leader. Washington observed them with interest and satisfaction—the first reenforcement to reach Lafayette and Wayne in what was designed to be the greatest concentration Washington ever had attempted. From the French “town” Washington and his swollen entourage rode into the area where the American tents were pitched. The drums rolled; the guns barked twenty-one times.

  Provisions were still scarce, though the trouble was one of organization; there was no actual shortage of grain in Virginia or Maryland; the Eastern Shore was overflowing with abundant crops. Washington noted this information which, on the morrow, he would put into urgent form for Gov. Thomas Sim Lee of the adjoining state. Governor Nelson was there to speak for himself and was able to make an encouraging report.

  During the night of September 14/15 or in the early morning of the fifteenth there came news that swept away most of the doubt that had overhung the operation against Cornwallis. De Grasse was back in Chesapeake Bay, with two captured frigates, after a favorable engagement with the British fleet. What was equally important, Barras’s squadron had joined him without meeting the British or suffering any injury. Every word of this lightened Washington’s load! The troops on the shores of the upper Chesapeake might now be started south again. Many felicitations doubtless were exchanged, but the Commander-in-Chief, as systematic as ever, devoted part of the day to several new aspects of old problems of supply and leadership, and particularly three special preliminaries of a siege of Cornwallis’s Yorktown Lines, which were assumed to be stronger every day. The escape of the British must be prevented. Additional troops must be found to increase the odds of attack and replace men who were certain to fall. Above everything else, assurance must be sought that the French fleet would stay in Virginia waters until the campaign was closed victoriously.

  On the fifteenth, Washington requested an interview with de Grasse, and, while awaiting an answer, made a reconnaissance of the British position, received additional officers, and reviewed the Virginia Line. He might have occupied himself for days with things that needed to be done, but de Grasse did not give him the time. On the seventeenth, the Admiral had in James River the fine little captured vessel, the Queen Charlotte. With a favoring wind she brought Washington, Rochambeau and their staffs in sight of the French fleet the next morning. Before them rode thirty-two ships of the line, the largest number Washington ever had seen together. The friendly conference that followed on the Ville de Paris was scarcely more than a succession of explicit answers by de Grasse to questions Washington had prepared in advance: Instructions set October 15 as the Admiral’s date of departure, but he would engage to remain through October. Washington could count on Saint-Simon’s troops till the warships departed.

  These answers gave Washington about forty days in which to compel Cornwallis to raise the white flag. Washington turned to a somewhat less essential subject, closing of the possible British line of escape up the York. The Admiral would reserve decision until reconnaissance had been made, but he added, “je ferai certainement tout qui sera en mon pouvoir.” De Grasse offered the use of 1800 to 2000 men from the fleet but he wished them employed only for a sudden attack, a coup de main. He could not detach vessels to block the port of Wilmington, North Carolina, or to take possession of Charleston harbor as his ships were not suited for these enterprises. Cannon he could supply and a small amount of powder. So the conference was satisfying.

  For the moment, amity might be enjoyed on other terms than those of cannon-balls and bayonets. The Admiral gave his guests a formal dinner and afterward showed them over his flagship. Then the officers of the fleet arrived to bow to the General. Soon after the Generals reached the Queen Charlotte for their return trip the wind rose and shifted and the weather suddenly changed from hot to cool. The vessel could make little headway, and when the wind ceased, the calm was a veritable mooring. A breeze on the evening of the nineteenth carried her so firmly aground that Washington and his companions got into a boat the next morning and headed for the frigate Andromaque, whence, after a hearty welcome and a stout breakfast, they started towards the mouth of the James. They found the little Queen off the shoal and ready to receive them. Washington went to his cabin, wrote his note of thanks to de Grasse and prepared two brief dispatches; for other correspondence a pitching vessel did not offer a comfortable desk. Soon the Queen was fighting so strong a headwind that there was no alternative to getting under the shelter of the land and spending the night. On the twenty-first the storm still was rattling the shrouds, and the weather seemed to mock hope. At dawn on the twenty-second, when the wind still resisted the ascent of the Queen, Washington would wait no longer. Unpleasant as it might be, a boat must work its way to the left bank of the James and climb by oar to College Creek. Washington, Rochambeau and the others got into the little craft for more hours of strain before they clambered ashore. It was noon when the party reached Williamsburg.

  The British had attempted nothing in Washington’s absence except an abortive raid by fireships on the French vessels at the mouth of the York. The one development of possible importance occurred the day he returned to camp: An express brought news that Rear Admiral Robert Digby was off the coast of the United States with British transports and with ships of the line variously estimated from three to ten. This news was passed on to de Grasse by the Baron von Closen, but it was not alarming to Washington as there were thirty-six French ships of the line in the Bay. The French left at Newport, to guard the base after the departure of Rochambeau, had arrived under Barras’s convoy and had landed. Regiments from Head of Elk were beginning to come ashore. General Lincoln had reported on the evening of the twentieth; John Laurens had hurried to the hunt, in order to be “in at the kill.” Virginia authorities and those of Maryland were working vigorously to find provisions and were bringing up sufficient flour for immediate requirements. Washington did not think it prudent to open the siege of Yorktown until he had in hand a large reserve of artillery ammunition, but he found no little pride in the successful timing of the concentration already effected. He wrote Heath, who had been left in command at West Point: “By information, Lord Cornwallis is incessantly at work on his fortifications, and is probably preparing to defend himself to the last extremity; a little time will probably decide his fate; with the blessing of Heaven, I feel it will prove favorable to the interests of America.”

  On the twenty-fifth von Closen reported de Grasse greatly disturbed by the news of Digby’s approach, and that his officers were advising him to leave. Though de Grasse held to his engagements with the combined armies, the Admiral now set forth a new plan in a paper translated immediately. After what had been said at the conference on the eighteenth, it seemed incredible that de Grasse should propose to leave a thin squadron in the Chesapeake—two ships of the line and four smaller armed vessels—and sail away with no assurance that he could or would return. Naval men might explain that de Grasse would be restricted in movement if the British entered the Bay and attacked between the mouth of the James and the so-called Middle Ground; but in Washington’s mind the Admiral’s altered plan seemed to threaten complete and irretrievable ruin of the entire campaign in Virginia. Washington’s anxiety rose almost to agony. As soon as he had conferred with Rochambeau, he had Laurens prepare a letter to de Grasse that did not withhold strong words in a logical plea for him to remain in the Chesapeake. This was to be delivered by Lafayette, who combined full knowledge of the situation with prestige that would assure a res
pectful hearing.

  Until word came from de Grasse Washington must wait in suspense and must go ahead with his preparations as if he were sure de Grasse would remain in Hampton Roads. The possibility that Cornwallis might proceed suddenly up the York or across that river and northward was constantly in the mind of Washington. He decided to strengthen Weedon’s Virginia militia who were facing at Gloucester Point, on the north side of the York, a veteran British contingent under Tarleton. Washington requested Rochambeau to send the Duc de Lauzun to Gloucester with infantry and cavalry. On the James, French and American forces continued to arrive from the upper Chesapeake. On the twenty-sixth there was other encouragement, a report that Greene had gained a considerable advantage in a fight of August 8 with a British force under Col. Alexander Stewart.

  Then on September 27, Washington received from de Grasse a dispatch on the twenty-fifth to which the American General must have listened with fast-beating heart:

  SIR: I have the honor to inform your Excellency that I this morning convened a general council of my officers and laid before them the motives I had in assembling them . . . it was decided that the major part of the fleet should proceed to anchor in York River, that four or five vessels should be stationed in the James to pass up and down the river, and that you should aid us with the means of erecting on Point Comfort a battery of thirty-six pounders and mortars . . . for the good of our operation. . . .

  There was more to the dispatch, but who had an ear for that? The great fact was that the fleet would remain. De Grasse had thrown himself heartily into a campaign that must be launched immediately. Let the order of battle be announced. The whole Army would march in one column at 5 A.M. on the twenty-eighth.