American Crisis

by William M. Fowler Jr.

  On the afternoon of November 24, a messenger arrived from Carleton. “I propose to withdraw from this place to-morrow at noon, by which time I conclude your troops will be near the barrier.”48 To prevent any untoward incident, Carleton asked Washington to hold his troops in place until an officer was sent out to give information to his advanced guard.49

  Knox’s troops formed up at eight the next morning and marched to Bowery Lane, where they waited until one in the afternoon, when a British officer informed them that the last redcoats were embarking for their transports. Knox led his soldiers past the barrier, swinging down Chatham Street to Queen (now Pearl) Street, west across Wall Street to Broadway halting at Cape’s Tavern (Trinity Place and Broadway). After sending a small detachment to take possession of Fort George at the Battery, Knox hurried back uptown to the Bull’s Head Tavern on the Bowery “about the Old Tea Water Pump,” where Washington and Clinton were waiting to begin their historic ride.50

  According to eyewitnesses, within minutes of Knox’s arrival Washington, “straight as a dart and noble as he could be,” mounted on a “spirited gray horse,” gave the command to advance. Next to him rode Governor Clinton on “a splendid bay.”51 Behind them came the lieutenant governor, members of the council, General Knox, and “citizens on horseback, eight a-breast,” and “citizens, on Foot, eight a-breast.”52 Slowly the procession made its way from the Bull’s Head “through, Queen … Street, where it joined with Wall Street, thence to the Broadway, where the main body drew up in front of Cape’s Tavern.”53 Along the route crowds pressed forward. Veterans who served in the American army proclaimed their service by sticking a sprig of laurel in their hats and wearing a “Union cockade, of black and white ribbon on the left breast.”54 Crowds “with happy faces … lined the streets” and shouted out “joyful acclamations” while “fairer forms drawn to the windows and balconies, by the beat of the American drums” watched the parade down Broadway to Cape’s Tavern. It “was the triumphal march of conquerors.”55 The grand procession paused at the tavern and then continued toward the Battery and Fort George to raise the American flag.

  As the “cavalcade” drew near the tip of the island they were “astonished and incensed” at what they saw. “The Royal ensign was still floating as usual over Fort George.”56 To make matters worse, the departing British, in a moment of pique, had cut the halyards, nailed the flag to the staff, and greased the flagpole. While Knox’s artillerymen unlimbered their cannon and stood with matches lit ready to fire a thirteen-gun salute, Sergeant John Van Arsdale slapped on a pair of cleats, climbed to the top, and ripped the Union Jack away, replacing it with the American flag. American cannon boomed a salute as small boats packed with British soldiers pulled toward waiting transports. Manhattan was clear of the British but Governors and Staten islands were not; a few more days passed before the men on those islands boarded ship. Nonetheless, for all intents and purposes the British were gone.

  On the evening of the twenty-fifth Governor Clinton hosted a sumptuous dinner at Fraunces Tavern.57 When the meal was finished and the cloths were removed, “the feast of reason and flow of soul” began as jovial guests charged their glasses and in carefully prepared fashion drank thirteen toasts.58

  The United States of America

  His most Christian Majesty59

  The United Netherlands

  The King of Sweden60

  The American Army

  The Fleet and Armies of France which have served in America

  The Memory of those Heroes who have fallen for Freedom

  May our Country be grateful to her military Children

  May justice support what Congress has gained

  The Vindicators of the Rights of Mankind in every Quarter of the Globe

  May America be an Asylum to the Persecuted of the Earth.

  May a close Union of the States guard the Temple they have erected to Liberty.

  May the Remembrance of This Day be a Lesson to Princes.

  Lieutenant Silas Morton of Massachusetts recorded that sporadic looting by American troops broke out. “Locks” were stolen from the college, and soldiers walked away with “partition boards and window sashes” from abandoned British barracks. “Lashings on the naked back” restored order quickly, and the city took easily to civilian control.61

  Celebrations went apace. On November 28 “citizens lately returned from exile, gave an elegant entertainment, at Cape’s Tavern, to his Excellency, the Governor, and the Council for governing the City.”62 On December 2 Governor Clinton hosted a grand soiree at Cape’s for the French ambassador Luzerne. That evening, at the Bowling Green, the “Definitive Treaty of Peace” was celebrated by “an unprecedented exhibition of fireworks.”63 The display was announced by “a Dove descending with the Olive Branch, which communicates the fire to a Marron Battery.” That was followed by “Rockets” arching into the night air. “Vertical Wheels” spun on stands erected in the field. “Tourbillons” spiraled up, while star shells illuminated the night. “Chinese fountains” flowed. For nearly an hour the crowd stood and sat in the chill night air admiring the incredible sight. The finale appeared as “Fame descending,” followed by “a flight of 100 Rockets.”64

  Having enjoyed the adulation heaped upon him, Washington felt that he could not take his final leave until every last British soldier was away.65 A few still remained on Staten Island and near Sandy Hook. Finally, on December 1 the long-awaited message came. “If wind and weather permit,” wrote Carleton, “I hope we shall be able to embark the Remainder of His Majesty’s troops … and take our final departure on the 4th Instant.”66

  With that news Washington made his own final preparations. He had one last military ceremony to attend. Few events in American history are as emotional, well remembered, and so poorly documented as “Washington’s Farewell to His Officers.” The only surviving firsthand account is one written nearly a half century after the event by Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge, a New York officer who served as Washington’s chief of intelligence.67 According to Tallmadge, Washington had made it known to his officers that he was leaving the city on December 4 and wished to see them that day at Fraunces Tavern. Shortly before noon the officers assembled in the tavern’s Long Room. A few minutes after the clock struck twelve Washington, followed closely by his aides David Humphreys and Benjamin Walker, entered the room. “We had been assembled but a few moments.”68

  For more than eight years of war—through victory, defeat, neglect by Congress, and sniping criticism—Washington, always a fine actor, had crafted a personal image of the stolid commander. This moment was different. “His emotion [was] too strong to be concealed,” and so too were the feelings of the men standing near. A number of field officers stood by, but only three of the seventy-four men Congress had appointed as generals to serve under Washington were present: Baron von Steuben, Alexander McDougall, and Henry Knox.69 In “breathless silence” the officers looked upon their commander. He then turned toward them, “filled his glass with wine,” and offered a toast: “With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.” As the officers returned the salute Washington invited each one of them to “come and take [him] by the hand.”

  Appropriately enough, the first to approach was Henry Knox. Washington took his hand. Neither could speak, and then in a gesture that none in the room had ever before witnessed, the two “embraced each other in silence.” Only the sound of boots shuffling on the floor and the slight noise of rattling dress swords could be heard as “every officer in the room marched up to, kissed, and parted with the General in Chief.” Nearly a half century later Tallmadge was still filled with emotion as he remembered “such a scene of sorrow and weeping [he] had never before witnessed.”

  Tears of deep sensibility filled every eye—and the heart seemed so full, that it was ready to burst from its wonted abode. Not a word was uttered to b
reak the solemn silence that prevailed or to interrupt the tenderness of the interesting scene. The simple thought that we were then about to part from the man who had conducted us through a long and bloody war, and under whose conduct the glory and independence of our country had been achieved, and that we should see his face no more in this world, seemed to me utterly insupportable.

  Although the moment was highly emotional, Washington soon turned and exited the tavern onto Queen Street, where a corps of infantry snapped to attention offering a final salute to their commander. Turning onto Water Street, he walked past cheering crowds a short distance to the ferry slip. Awaiting him at the landing was a barge to carry him across the Hudson to Paulus Hook. As the oarsmen pulled away, Washington gave a last wave to the crowd. At the same moment past Sandy Hook Carleton was bound home on the frigate Ceres, the same vessel that had brought him to New York eighteen months before.

  Washington had one final official act to complete. Among the papers Washington had carried with him during the war, nothing was more precious than the commission as commander in chief of the army of the United States given to him by Congress June 19, 1775. This was the one document in his official papers that he had never entrusted to clerks or later to Richard Varick. In eight years he had never parted with it, but now the moment had come to return his commission.

  From Paulus Hook Washington traveled for four days via New Brunswick and Trenton, through villages and towns, to Philadelphia. Everywhere people gathered to cheer and huzzah. About noon on the eighth he drew near the outskirts of Philadelphia to be welcomed by the president of the state, John Dickinson.70 With him as well as a “number of citizens,” including his old friend Robert Morris, he entered Philadelphia to the sound of booming cannon, bells tolling, and citizens lining the street shouting “repeated acclamations.”71 For nearly a week Washington remained as addresses and honors poured in. Receptions, parties, dinners, and balls were held in his honor. Finally the exhausted general left the city on the fifteenth, hurrying to Annapolis to return his commission and “get translated into a private Citizen,” as he wrote to his friend James McHenry.72

  Progress along the road to Annapolis was slow. Americans were excited to catch a glimpse of their national hero. Every community through which he passed begged the privilege of honoring him publicly. At Wilmington, Delaware, the townsmen feted him at a dinner and then invited him to step outside to watch a bonfire lit in his honor. More dinners and addresses followed in Baltimore.73

  While its streets were not yet paved, Annapolis was a pleasant little town on the Severn River. Barely four years old, Maryland’s impressive statehouse stood on a commanding rise at the north end of the town. It was spacious and elegantly finished. State authorities had graciously offered the Senate chamber to the Congress. The Rhode Island delegate David Howell counted Annapolis far more beautiful than Philadelphia. As to the manners of the people, he was less complimentary. The stiff New Englander noted that while he could find “a play house, a ball-room, [and] many good taverns,” he had yet to discover a “place of public worship.”74 Nor was he pleased with the loose atmosphere of his lodgings. On his first Saturday evening when he came down to the common room expecting to read and converse with his fellow lodgers, he was taken aback when a “servant brought into the room [and] set on the Table two candles [and] two packs of Cards. Some of the company soon spread around the Table [and] went to playing for money,” but Howell left the room. In a letter dripping with disapproval, he reported home to his friend William Greene “that in New England the Table would have been furnished with a bible [and] Psalm book instead of two packs of cards.”75 Howell’s North Carolina colleague Hugh Williamson had a more enchanting view that perhaps spoke to the country’s cultural divide. To him, the place and people of Annapolis were charming. He was particularly struck by the “lovely girls here, a younger man perhaps would call them angels.”76

  It was a good thing that Annapolis was charming and lively, for aside from the distractions of walking, gambling, drinking, dancing, and writing letters home, there was little in the line of official business to occupy the members’ time. Although they had agreed when leaving Princeton to reconvene on November 26, not enough members took their seats on that day to make a quorum. In the opinion of Thomas Jefferson, one of the few delegates to arrive on schedule, the states and their representatives had become careless in their responsibilities.77 Congress was in a downward spiral, its powers ebbing. Even the Rhode Islander William Ellery, one of Congress’s longest-serving and most faithful members, saw minimal use for the body. “If the States were represented, and in earnest,” he wrote to his colleague Benjamin Huntington, a Connecticut delegate whose state was among the no-shows, “I think we could dispatch all the business of importance in the course of three months, and adjourn leaving small matters to a Committee of the States.”78 For the moment, “the business of importance” was receiving the commander in chief.

  As Washington neared Annapolis late in the afternoon of December 19, a distinguished delegation greeted him. As usual on these occasions it included the principal inhabitants of the place, plus a large concourse of ordinary citizens. Riding at the head of the reception committee was a familiar figure: General Horatio Gates. The general had come up from Virginia to settle some private accounts and took the opportunity to ride out to greet the commander in chief. It was the first time the two had met since Newburgh.79 No record remains of any exchange between them.

  To the distant sound of a thirteen-gun salute, the gentlemen escorted Washington to Annapolis’s most splendid hostelry, Mann’s Hotel, “where apartments had been prepared for his reception.”80 Washington retired to his “apartments” to prepare a letter to the president of Congress.

  Sir: I take the earliest opportunity to inform Congress of my arrival in this City, with the intention of asking leave to resign the Commission I have the honor of holding in their Service. It is essential for me to know their pleasure, and in what manner it will be most proper to offer my resignation, whether in writing, or at an Audience; I shall therefore request to be honored with the necessary information, that being apprised of the sentiments of Congress I may regulate my Conduct accordingly.81

  That night when he came to dine with the president, Thomas Mifflin of Pennsylvania, Washington delivered his letter. The evening may not have been entirely pleasant. Mifflin was among those members of Congress who in 1778, as part of the “Conway Cabal,” had sought to replace Washington with Gates. Washington knew of his actions and held a hearty dislike of the man.

  The next day Congress convened to consider the general’s request. Following a brief discussion, the members resolved “that his Excellency the Commander in Chief be admitted to a public audience, on Tuesday next, at twelve o’clock.” However, in advance of the “public audience,” the members agreed to give a “public entertainment” on Monday December 22. Moments before the vote a member, most likely William Ellery, whose passion for proper procedure was legendary, rose to ask the embarrassing question whether seven states, two short of a quorum for important business, were “competent to receive the resignation of a Commander in Chief.” The president called for a vote. Ellery, the first to vote, answered no. As the roll call continued, every other member voted yes. Before the secretary made the official entry in the Journals, Ellery asked that his vote be changed to aye, making the decision unanimous.82 And so seven states were sufficient to receive the resignation of the commander in chief. It was deemed “ordinary” rather than “important” business. No one, not even Washington, commented on the irony.83

  Notwithstanding the question of a quorum, the members were conscious they were planning an event that had few precedents in history, wherein a victorious military commander was surrendering his authority to a civilian body. Congress elected three men “to make the necessary arrangements for the public audience of General Washington”: Elbridge Gerry, James McHenry, and Thomas Jefferson. The committee split the assignment; McHenry and G
erry worked on protocol for the occasion, and Jefferson retired to his chambers to prepare the text of a response to the general’s address, which he had been given in advance.84 They had two days to prepare the stage for one of the most important moments in American history.

  On Monday evening they suspended their work, prior to the ceremony, to join their fellow members and more than two hundred guests gathered for an elegant dinner at Mann’s to honor Washington. James Tilton of Delaware described the feast as “the most extraordinary” he ever attended. According to Tilton, “cheerful voices [all men],” combined with the clanging of knives and forks, “made a din of a very extraordinary nature and most delightful influence.” The wine was “in plenty,” and glasses were hoisted for the traditional thirteen toasts, but “not a soul got drunk.” The high point of evening came when the general stood to offer his toast: “Competent powers to congress for general purposes.”85 In reply, some in the room raised their glasses more quickly than others.

  Once dinner was finished, guests left the hotel to make their way to the statehouse, where the governor was hosting a ball. Martha Washington did not attend; owing to her fragile health and the difficulty of winter travel, she had wisely decided to remain at home. In her absence Washington, known for his love of dancing and his grace on the floor, selected as his first partner the young, and reportedly beautiful, twenty-year-old Martha Rolle.86 The Delaware delegate James Tilton noted admiringly that he “danced every set, that all the ladies might have the pleasure of dancing with him, or as it has since been handsomely expressed, get a touch of him.”87