Portrait of Washington After Siege of Yorktown

Photo by; Chuck Thompson of TTC Media, 2008.
WASHINGTON
AND THE
AMERICAN REPUBLIC
TTC Media Digital Publishing

WASHINGTON
AND THE
AMERICAN REPUBLIC
Portrait of Washington (After Stuart)

WASHINGTON
AND THE
AMERICAN REPUBLIC.
BY
Benson J. Lossing,
AUTHOR OF “PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR,” “FIELD-BOOK OF THE
REVOLUTION,” “FIELD-BOOK OF THE WAR OF 1812,” ETC. ETC.
VOLUME III.
NEW YORK:
VIRTUE & YORSTON,
12 DEY STREET.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by VIRTUE &
YORSTON, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

Washington at Valley Forge
Transcriber's Note: The caret (^) has been used
to mark subscript in the text version. A Table of
Contents has been added. Obvious printer errors,
including punctuation, have been corrected. All
other inconsistencies have been left as they were
in the original.
Special Edition brought to you by; Chuck Thompson of TTC Media, General Media, Gloucester,
Virginia Links and News, GVLN and WTLN. Digital Publishing; July, 2013.
Http://www.GloucesterCounty-VA.com Liberty Education Series. Visit us.
•
WASHINGTON.
CHAPTER I.
[Pg 1]

TOP
washington receives cheering news from greene—siege of fort ninety-
six—success of partisan corps elsewhere—capture of augusta by the
americans—rawdon approaches ninety-six—greene abandons the
siege—rawdon retires to orangeburg followed by greene—greene
encamps on the high hills of santee—stewart and cruger at orangeburg
—rawdon goes to england—battle at eutaw springs—the upper
country in possession of the americans—services of marion and other
partisans—british confined to the seaboard—death of john parke
custis—washington adopts his children—washington co-operates with
congress—joins the army on the hudson—discontents in the army—
proposition to make washington king—his rebuke—peace movements
—washington's caution—junction of the french and american armies
—evacuation of savannah and charleston.
1781
We have observed, that with the capture of Cornwallis and his army, the War for
Independence was virtually ended, but that some blood flowed afterward, and that
hostile forces were arrayed against each other for several months longer, before the two
nations agreed to fight no more. Let us take a brief survey of events, from the siege of
Yorktown until the declaration of peace, and the departure of the last British troops from
our shores.
On the evening of the ninth of October, just as Lincoln, having completed the first
parallel before Yorktown, ordered a battery to open upon the British works, Washington
received encouraging intelligence from General Greene in the far South. Greene was[Pg
2] then encamped upon the High Hills of Santee, having, a little more than a week
previous to the date of his letter, been engaged in a bloody battle with the enemy at
Eutaw Springs.
In a former chapter we left Greene on his march to attack Fort Ninety-Six, situated in
Abbeville district in South Carolina, within about six miles of the Saluda river. It was
then garrisoned by five hundred and fifty loyalists, under the command of Lieutenant-
Colonel Cruger, of New York. Sumter having cut off all communication between
Camden and Ninety-Six, Cruger had not received Rawdon's orders to join Brown at
Augusta, but remained, and was using every endeavor to strengthen his works.
Greene arrived before Ninety-Six on the twenty-second of May, with less than a
thousand regulars and a few raw militia. Kosciuszko, the brave Pole, was his chief
engineer, and under his direction the Americans commenced making regular approaches,
by parallels, for the works were too strong to be taken by assault. For almost a month the
work went on, enlivened by an occasional sortie and skirmish. Then news came that
Lord Rawdon was approaching with a strong force to the relief of Cruger. Greene's
troops were full of spirit, and were anxious to storm the works before his lordship's
arrival. Consent was given by the commander, and on the eighteenth an assault was

made, and a bloody contest ensued. The Americans were repulsed, and on the following
day Greene raised the siege and retreated across the Saluda. Rawdon pursued him a
short distance, and, having accomplished the object of his errand, wheeled, and marched
toward Orangeburg.
While the siege of Ninety-Six was in progress, partisan corps were elsewhere successful.
Lee captured Fort Galphin, twelve miles below Augusta, and then sent an officer to the
latter post to demand its surrender from Brown. The summons was disregarded, and Lee,
Pickens, and Clarke, commenced a siege. It lasted several days, and on the fifth of June,
the fort and its dependencies at Augusta were surrendered to the republicans. Lee and
Pickens then joined Greene at Ninety-Six, and with him retreated beyond the Saluda.[Pg
3]
And now Greene and Rawdon changed their relative positions, the former becoming the
pursuer of the latter, in his march toward Orangeburg. Finding Rawdon strongly
entrenched there, Greene deemed it prudent not to attack him; and the sickly season
approaching, he crossed the Congaree with his little army, and encamped upon the High
Hills of Santee, below Camden, where pure air and water might be found in abundance.
Considering the post at Ninety-Six quite untenable, Rawdon ordered Lieutenant-Colonel
Cruger to abandon it and join him at Orangeburg. There Rawdon was met by Lieutenant-
Colonel Stewart, who had come up from Charleston with an Irish regiment. As Greene
had gone into summer-quarters apparently, and the American partisans were just then
quiet, his lordship left all his forces in charge of Stewart, went down to Charleston, and
embarked for Europe to seek the restoration of his health.
Soon after encamping on the High Hills of Santee, Greene detached Sumter with about a
thousand light troops to scour the lower country and beat up the British posts in the
vicinity of Charleston. His assistants were those bold partisans, Lee, Marion, Horry, the
Hamptons, and other brave republican leaders, with troops accustomed to the swamps
and sandy lowlands. These performed excellent service in preparing the way for the
expulsion of the enemy from the interior of South Carolina.
Early in August Greene was reinforced by North Carolina troops, under General
Sumner; and toward the close of the month, he broke up his encampment, crossed the
Wateree, and marched upon Orangeburg. Stewart, who had been joined by Cruger,
immediately retreated to Eutaw Springs, near the southwest bank of the Santee, and
there encamped. Greene followed, and on the morning of the eighth of September, a
very severe battle commenced. The British were finally expelled from the camp, leaving
their tents standing, and almost everything but their arms behind them.
Greene's troops, unmindful of their commander's orders, had spread themselves through
the abandoned camp to plunder, eat, and drink, when the enemy unexpectedly and
suddenly renewed[Pg 4] the battle. After a bloody conflict of four hours the Americans
were compelled to give way. “It was by far the most obstinate fight I ever saw,” Greene
wrote to Washington. Stewart feeling insecure, for the American partisan legions were
hovering around him, retreated toward Charleston that night.

On the morning of the ninth Greene advanced and took possession of the battle-field,
and sent detachments in pursuit of Stewart. A victory was claimed by both parties.
Washington seemed to consider it as such for Greene. “Fortune,” he said, in a letter to
him, “must have been coy indeed, had she not yielded at last to so persevering a pursuer
as you have been.” Yet there was no victory in the case. The advantage evidently lay
with the Americans. The contest had been a most sanguinary one. The loss of the
Americans in killed, wounded, and missing, was five hundred and fifty-five; that of the
British six hundred and ninety-three. The bravery, skill, and caution of Greene, and the
general good conduct of his troops, were applauded by the whole country. Congress
ordered a gold medal to be struck in commemoration of the event, and presented to
Greene. A British standard captured on that occasion was also presented to him.
Many of his troops being sick, Greene again retired to the High Hills of Santee, where
he remained until the middle of November. There, on the thirtieth of October, he was
informed of the glorious events at Yorktown, and the day was made jubilant with the
rejoicings of the army.
The whole upper country of the Carolinas and Georgia was now in possession of the
republicans. Nothing remained to be done, but to drive in the British outposts, and hem
them within the narrow precincts of their lines at Charleston and Savannah. Marion,
Sumter, Lee, and other partisans, performed this service effectually.
Greene finally crossed the Congaree and moved with his army to the vicinity of
Charleston. The object of his campaign was accomplished. He had driven the enemy to
the margin of the sea, and he was prepared to keep them there. Marion and his men[Pg
5] lingered around the headwaters of the Cooper river to watch their movements, and to
prevent their incursions beyond Charleston. St. Clair had come down from Yorktown,
and had driven the British from Wilmington. Governor Rutledge had called the
legislators of South Carolina together at Jacksonboro', to re-establish civil government
in that state, and Greene's army lay as a guard between them and the enemy at
Charleston. In that city and Savannah only, did the British have a foothold south of the
Delaware at the close of 1781; and Wayne, with vigilant eye and supple limb, lay not far
from the latter place, closely watching the British there. The war was virtually at an end
in the South.
Let us turn to the consideration of Washington's movements after the capitulation at
Yorktown.
In the midst of the rejoicings because of the great victory, Washington's heart was made
sad by domestic affliction. His stepson, John Parke Custis, who had followed him to the
field as his aid-de-camp, sickened before the close of the siege. Anxious to participate in
the pleasures of the victory, he remained in camp until the completion of the surrender,
when he retired to Eltham, the seat of Colonel Bassett, who had married Mrs.
Washington's sister. His malady (camp-fever) had increased, and Washington sent
Doctor Craik with him. A courier was also despatched to Mount Vernon for his wife and
mother; and on the fifth of November, having arranged all public business at Yorktown,

Washington set out for Eltham. He arrived there, as he wrote to Lafayette, “time enough
to see poor Mr. Custis breathe his last.”
The grief of Washington was very great, and he wept bitterly. He had watched over that
young man from his earliest childhood with paternal affection and solicitude; and with
pride he had seen him take public position as a member of the Virginia assembly. Now,
at the age of twenty-eight years, he was taken from him. The mother was almost
unconsolable, and the young wife was sorely smitten by the bereavement. Washington's
heart deeply sympathized with them, and there, in the death-chamber, he formally
adopted the two younger children of Mrs. Custis, who thenceforth[Pg 6] became members
of his family. These were Eleanor Parke Custis, who married Lawrence Lewis, the
favorite nephew of Washington, and George Washington Parke Custis, who lived until
the autumn of 1857.
Washington proceeded directly from Eltham to Mount Vernon, only halting at
Fredericksburg to see his mother, and join in some public ceremonials there, in honor of
himself and the French officers. But he sought not the quiet of his home for purposes of
repose, for he was not to be seduced into the practices engendered by a fancied security
because of the late brilliant victory. On the contrary, his apprehensions were painfully
awakened to the danger which the prevalence of such confidence might occasion, and he
wrote to General Greene, saying:—
“I shall remain but a few days here, and shall proceed to
Philadelphia, where I shall attempt to stimulate Congress to the
best improvement of our late success, by taking the most
vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an early and
decisive campaign, the next year. My greatest fear is, that
Congress, viewing this stroke in too important a point of light,
may think our work too nearly closed, and will fall into a state
of languor and relaxation. To prevent this error, I will employ
every means in my power, and if unhappily we sink into that
fatal mistake no part of the blame shall be mine.”
A little later he wrote to Greene from Philadelphia, saying: “I am apprehensive that the
states, elated by the late success, and taking it for granted that Great Britain will no
longer support so losing a contest, will relax in their preparations for the next campaign.
I am detained here by Congress to assist in the arrangements for the next year; and I
shall not fail, in conjunction with the financier, the minister of foreign affairs, and the
secretary at war, who are all most heartily well-disposed, to impress upon Congress, and
get them to impress upon the respective states, the necessity of the most vigorous
exertions.”

Washington's
Headquarters Near Newburg
Washington had been received in Philadelphia with distinguished honors, at the close of
November. With his usual energy and industry,[Pg 7] he pressed forward military
arrangements for the campaign of 1782, and by his continual importunities, he awakened
Congress to the importance of being prepared for another year of active duty in the field.
On the tenth of December that body, by resolution, made a requisition of men and
money from the southern states, and the resolve was warmly seconded by Washington,
in letters to the respective governors of those states. Franklin, at the same time, was
using the most strenuous exertions in France to procure more aid from that power; and
when intelligence of the capitulation of Yorktown reached the French court, Vergennes
promised a loan of six millions to the United States.
Washington remained four months in Philadelphia, and then joined the army near
Newburg, on the Hudson. The allied forces had been dissolved. The troops under the
Marquis St. Simon had sailed from the Chesapeake in De Grasse's fleet early in
November; the French troops, under Rochambeau, remained in Virginia; the remainder
of the American army, after St. Clair's force was detached to the South, proceeded
northward, under the command of Lincoln, and took post on the Hudson and in the
Jerseys, so as to be ready to operate against New York in the spring; and Lafayette,
perceiving no probability of active service immediately, obtained leave of absence from
the Congress, and returned to France to visit his family.
We have already noticed the proceedings in the British house of commons on the subject
of peace with the Americans. Early in May, 1782, Sir Guy Carleton arrived in New York
as the successor of Sir Henry Clinton in the chief command of the British forces; and in
a letter dated the seventh of that month, he informed Washington that he and Admiral
Digby were joint commissioners to make arrangements for a truce or peace. Even this
friendly approach of British officials did not make Washington any the less vigilant and

active, and he continued his preparations for further hostilities, with all the means in his
power.
With the dawning of the day of peace great discontents in the army were developed. It
prevailed equally among officers and[Pg 8] private soldiers, and originated in the destitute
condition of the troops at that time, and the conviction that the army would be disbanded
without provision being made for the liquidation of the claims upon the government for
the pay of arrearages, and the promised half-pay of the officers for a term of years after
the conclusion of the war. The prospect was, indeed, gloomy. For a long time the public
treasury had been empty; and thousands of the soldiers, many of them invalids, made so
by their hard service for their country, would be compelled to seek a livelihood in the
midst of the desolation which war had produced. In this state of things, and with such
prospects, many sighed for a change. They lost faith in the republican form of
government, as they saw it in its practical workings under the Articles of Confederation,
and they earnestly desired something stronger—perhaps an elective or constitutional
monarchy.
Washington had perceived these growing discontents with anxiety, and was urging
Congress to do something to allay them, when he received a letter from Colonel Lewis
Nicola, a veteran and well-bred officer of the Pennsylvania line, which filled him with
the greatest apprehensions. In it Nicola, no doubt, spoke the sentiments of a great many
of his fellow-officers and soldiers at that time. He attributed all current evils, and those
in anticipation, to the existing form of government, and then urged the necessity and
expediency of adopting a mixed one like that of England. Having fortified his position
by argument, Nicola added:—
“In this case it will, I believe, be uncontroverted, that the same
abilities which have led us through difficulties apparently
unsurmountable by human power to victory and glory—those
qualities, that have merited and obtained the universal esteem
and veneration of an army—would be most likely to conduct
and direct us in the smoother paths of peace. Some people have
so connected the ideas of tyranny and monarchy as to find it
very difficult to separate them. It may, therefore, be requisite to
give the head of such a constitution as I propose some title
apparently more moderate; but, if all other things were once
adjusted, I believe strong arguments[Pg 9] might be produced for
admitting the title of KING, which I conceive would be attended
with some national advantage.”
How little did even Nicola, who was very intimate with Washington, comprehend the
true character of his disinterested patriotism in all its breadth and depth! The
commander-in-chief perceived that Nicola was only the organ of a dangerous military
faction, whose object was to create a new government through the active energies of the
army, and to place their present leader at the head. He sympathized with the army in its

distresses, but this movement met with his severest rebuke.
“Sir,” said Washington, in a responsive letter to Nicola, “With a mixture of great surprise
and astonishment, I have read with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my
perusal. Be assured, sir, no occurrence in the course of this war has given me more
painful sensations than your information of there being such ideas existing in the army
as you have expressed, and which I must view with abhorrence and reprehend with
severity. For the present, the communication of them will rest in my own bosom, unless
some further agitation of the matter shall make a disclosure necessary. I am much at a
loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given encouragement to an address
which to me seems big with the greatest mischiefs that can befall my country. If I am not
deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your
schemes are more disagreeable. At the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must
add, that no man possesses a more serious wish to see ample justice done to the army
than I do; and, as far as my power and influence, in a constitutional way, extend, they
shall be employed to the utmost of my abilities to effect it, should there be any occasion.
Let me conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself
or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never
communicate, as from yourself or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature. I am, etc.”
1782
This stern rebuke at once silenced the faction, and checked all further movement in the
direction of king-making. How brightly[Pg 10] did the patriotism of Washington shine out
in this affair! At the head of a victorious army; beloved and venerated by it and by the
people; with personal influence unbounded, and with power in possession for
consummating almost any political scheme not apparently derogatory to good
government, he receives from an officer whom he greatly esteems, and who speaks for
himself and others, an offer of the sceptre of supreme rule and the crown of royalty!
What a bribe! Yet he does not hesitate for a moment; he does not stop to revolve in his
mind any ideas of advantage in the proposed scheme, but at once rebukes the author
sternly but kindly, and impresses his signet of strongest disapprobation upon the
proposal. History can not present a parallel.
The summer of 1782 passed away without much apparent progress being made toward a
definite and permanent arrangement for peace. At the beginning of August, Carleton and
Digby wrote a joint letter to Washington, informing him that they had good authority for
saying, that negotiations for peace had been commenced at Paris, by commissioners, and
that the British representatives in that conference, would first propose the independence
of the United States as a basis. But Washington, taught by past experience, was still
doubtful of the reality of all these professions. “Jealousy and precaution,” he said, “at
least can do no harm. Too much confidence and supineness may be pernicious in the
extreme.”
No wonder he still doubted. The British government had not yet made any offer for a
general cessation of hostilities. The Americans had allies whose interests must be

consulted. Hostilities might cease in the United States, according to recent enactments of
Parliament, but the very forces then on our shores, might be sent to make war upon the
French dominions in the West Indies. The public faith required that the interests of
France should be considered in the negotiations for peace; and until a cessation of
general hostilities should be officially proclaimed by Great Britain, Washington resolved
to be prepared for a renewal of the war.
Thus viewing affairs, the commander-in-chief advised Rochambeau, who was then
(August, 1782) at Baltimore, to march his[Pg 11] troops to the banks of the Hudson, and
form a junction with the American army. This was accomplished at the middle of
September, the first division of the French army crossing the Hudson at King's ferry on
the fifteenth. The American forces were at Verplanck's Point, opposite, to receive them,
all arranged in their best attire, their tents decked with evergreens, and their bands
playing French marches.
In the meantime British troops had been leaving the southern shores of the United
States, and others were preparing to depart. They evacuated Savannah on the eleventh of
July, and sailed for New York, when the “keys of the city of Savannah” were delivered
to Major Jackson, by a committee of British officers, under the direction of General
Wayne. On the same day the American army, led by Wayne, entered the city, and royal
authority in every form ceased for ever in Georgia.
General Leslie, the British commander at Charleston, was not in a condition to leave on
account of a want of provisions. When he was apprized of the proceedings in Parliament
in favor of peace, he proposed to General Greene a cessation of hostilities. Like a true
soldier, Greene took no such responsibility, but referred the whole matter to Congress,
while relaxing not one whit of his vigilance. Leslie then asked permission to purchase
supplies for his army, that he might evacuate Charleston. The wary Greene refused to
allow it, for in so doing he might be nourishing a viper that would sting him.
Leslie then resorted to force to obtain supplies; and late in August he sent an expedition
up the Combahee for the purpose. General Gist, with some Maryland troops, was there
to oppose him, and the British were compelled to retreat to Charleston. In the skirmish
that ensued, the noble Colonel John Laurens, who had volunteered in the service, was
killed. He was mourned by all as a great public loss; and his was about the last blood
that flowed in the War for Independence.[1]
[Pg 12]On the fourteenth of December following, the British evacuated Charleston, and on
the ensuing day the Americans, under General Greene, marched into the city and took
possession. He and his army were greeted as deliverers. From the windows, balconies,
and housetops, handkerchiefs waved, and the mingled voices of women and children
shouted, “God bless you, gentlemen! Welcome! Welcome!” That evening the last hostile
sail was seen beyond Charleston bar, as a white speck upon the horizon. At the close of
the year only New York city was held in possession by British troops.

FOOTNOTES:
[1]John Laurens was a son of Henry Laurens, president of
the continental Congress in 1777. He joined the army early
in 1777, and was wounded in the battle of Germantown. He
continued in the army (with the exception of a few
months), under the immediate command of Washington,
until after the surrender of Cornwallis, in which event he
was a conspicuous participant as one of the commissioners
appointed to arrange the terms. Early in 1781, he was sent
on a special mission to France to solicit a loan of money
and to procure arms. He was successful, and on his return
received the thanks of Congress. Within three days after his
arrival in Philadelphia, he had settled all matters with
Congress, and departed for the army in the South under
Greene. There he did good service, until his death, on the
Combahee, on the twenty-seventh of August, 1782, when
he was but twenty-nine years of age. Washington, who
made him his aid, loved him as a child. He declared that he
could discover no fault in him, unless it was intrepidity,
bordering on rashness. “Poor Laurens,” wrote Greene, “has
fallen in a paltry little skirmish. You knew his temper, and I
predicted his fate. The love of military glory made him
seek it upon occasions unworthy his rank. The state will
feel his loss.” He was buried upon the plantation of Mrs.
Stock, in whose family he spent the evening previous to his
death in cheerful conversation. A small enclosure, without a
stone, marks his grave.
CHAPTER II.
[Pg 13]
TOP
death of joseph huddy—retaliation resolved upon—case of captain
asgill—peace proceedings in the british parliament—preliminary
treaty negotiated and signed at paris—discontents in the army—
memorial of officers sent to congress—inflammatory address
circulated in camp—meeting of officers called—washington
determines to control the matter—the meeting and its results—
washington's address—its effects—patriotic resolutions—intelligence
of peace received by washington—its proclamation to the army—
justice to the soldiers—furloughs freely granted—virtual dissolution

of the army—conference between washington and carleton—
departure of lafayette—cincinnati society—address to governors of
states—mutiny of pennsylvania troops—congress adjourns to
princeton—washington's tour to the north—invited to princeton—a
bronze statue of washington voted by congress.
A very painful affair occupied the attention of Washington in the autumn of 1782, when
his judgment and his sympathies were placed in opposition. In the neighborhood of
Freehold, in New Jersey, lurked a band of marauding tories, known as Pine Robbers.
One of these named Philip White, notorious for his depredations, had been caught by the
New Jersey people, and killed while attempting to escape, when being conducted to
Monmouth jail. His partisans in New York vowed revenge. Captain Huddy, a warm
whig, then in confinement in New York, was taken by a party of loyalists under Captain
Lippincott, to the Jersey shore, near Sandy Hook, and hanged. Upon Huddy's breast the
infamous Lippincott placed a label, on which, after avowing that the act was one of
vengeance, he placed the words in large letters—
“UP GOES HUDDY FOR PHILIP WHITE.”
From the neighboring country went forth a strong cry for retaliation.[Pg 14] Washington
submitted the case to a board of general officers, when it was agreed that Lippincott
should be demanded as a murderer, for execution, and if Sir Henry Clinton would not
give him up, retaliation should be exercised upon some British officer in the possession
of the Americans.
Sir Henry refused. At the same time the Congress, by resolution, approved Washington's
course, and he proceeded to select a British officer for execution, by lot, from among
prisoners at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It fell upon Captain Asgill, a young man nineteen
years of age, an officer of the guards, and only son and heir of Sir Charles Asgill. Efforts
were immediately set on foot to save Asgill. For a long time the matter remained in
suspense, but Washington, firm in his purpose, was deaf to all entreaty. Lippincott was
tried by a court-martial, and acquitted, it appearing that he was acting under the verbal
orders of Governor Franklin, who was at the head of the board of associated loyalists.
General Carleton, meanwhile, had succeeded Sir Henry Clinton in command at New
York. He condemned the proceedings in the case of Huddy, and broke up the board of
loyalists. Thus, in time, the most prominent features of the case became changed.
Meanwhile Lady Asgill had written a most pathetic letter to the Count de Vergennes, the
French minister, imploring him to intercede on behalf of her son. Vergennes, at the
request of the king and queen, to whom he showed the letter, wrote to Washington,
soliciting the liberation of young Asgill. The count's letter was referred to Congress.
That body had already admitted the prisoner to parole; and to the great relief of
Washington, he received orders from Congress, early in November, to set Captain Asgill
at liberty.
The case of Asgill excited Washington's deepest sympathies. He was an amiable and

honorable young man. “I felt for him,” wrote the commander-in-chief, “on many
accounts; and not the least, when viewing him as a man of honor and sentiment, I
considered how unfortunate it was for him that a wretch who possessed neither, should
be the means of causing him a single pang or a disagreeable sensation.”[Pg 15]
On the twenty-fifth of July, 1782, the British Parliament passed a bill to enable the king
to consent to the independence of the United States, and the monarch signed it, though
with reluctance. Richard Oswald was immediately appointed, with full powers, to
negotiate a treaty of peace with the new republic, on the basis of its independence. The
American ministers abroad, Franklin, Adams, and Jay, were constituted commissioners
for the United States, to treat for peace, and on the thirtieth of November, preliminary
articles were signed by them respectively at Paris. Henry Laurens, who had arrived at
Paris, from London, while the negotiations were in progress, had joined the American
commissioners, and he also signed the treaty.
Washington, meanwhile, had been anxiously preparing the way for the anticipated
disbanding of the army. Congress, through utter inability, had done really nothing to
allay the discontents in the army; and the commander-in-chief was fearful, that during
the idle hours of a winter encampment, those discontents would assume the form of
absolute mutiny. He drew his forces to his former encampment, near Newburg, and there
calmly awaited the issue of events.
Almost daily there were bold conferences of officers and soldiers in the camp, when the
prospects of the future were discussed, sometimes angrily, and always warmly. Finally,
in December, 1782, the officers, in behalf of the army, sent a committee with a memorial
to the Congress, in which they represented the real hardships of their condition, and
proposed that a specific sum should be granted them for the money actually due them,
and as a commutation for the half-pay of the officers. This memorial elicited a long and
warm debate in Congress, its character and its propositions being viewed differently by
different minds. The entire winter passed away, and nothing satisfactory was done in the
supreme legislature for the suffering soldier.
1783
At length forbearance appeared to many as no longer a virtue, and some officers
resolved not to wait for justice in idle expectation of its appearance from the halls of
legislation. A plan was arranged[Pg 16] among a few, “for assembling the officers, not in
mass, but by representation; and for passing a series of resolutions, which, in the hands
of their committee, and of their auxiliaries in Congress, would form a new and powerful
lever” of operations. Major John Armstrong, a young officer six-and-twenty years of
age, and aid-de-camp of Gates, was chosen to write an address to the army, suitable to
the subject, and this, with an anonymous notification of a meeting of officers, was
circulated privately on the tenth of March, 1783.[2]
That address exhibited superior talent in the writer, and its tone was calculated to make a
deep impression upon the minds of the malcontents. After preparing their feelings for a
relinquishment of faith in the justice of their country, which had been already much

weakened by real and fancied injuries, he remarked:—
[Pg 17]
“Faith has its limits as well as temper, and there are points
beyond which neither can be stretched without sinking into
cowardice or plunging into credulity. This, my friends, I
conceive to be your situation; hurried to the verge of both,
another step would ruin you forever. To be tame and
unprovoked, when injuries press hard upon you, is more than
weakness; but to look up for kinder usage, without one manly
effort of your own, would fix your character, and show the
world how richly you deserved the chains you broke.” He then
took a review of the past and present—their wrongs and their
complaints—their petitions and the denials of redress—and then
said: “If this, then, be your treatment while the swords you wear
are necessary for the defense of America, what have you to
expect from peace, when your voice shall sink, and your
strength dissipate by division; when these very swords, the
instruments and companions of your glory, shall be taken from
your sides, and no remaining mark of military distinction left
but wants, infirmities, and scars? Can you, then, consent to be
the only sufferers by the Revolution, and, retiring from the field,
grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt? Can you
consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe
the miserable remnant of that life to charity, which has hitherto
been spent in honor? If you can, go, and carry the jest of tories
and the scorn of whigs; the ridicule, and, what is worse, the pity
of the world! Go, starve, and be forgotten.”
The writer now changed from appeal to advice. “I would advise you, therefore,” he said,
“to come to some final opinion upon what you can bear and what you will suffer. If your
determination be in proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal from the justice to the
fears of government. Change the milk-and-water style of your last memorial; assume a
bolder tone, decent, but lively, spirited, and determined; and suspect the man who would
advise to more moderation and longer forbearance. Let two or three men who can feel as
well as write, be appointed to draw up your last remonstrance—for I would no longer
give it the suing, soft, unsuccessful epithet ofmemorial.” He advised them to talk boldly
to Congress, and to warn that body that the slightest mark of indignity from them now
would operate like the grave, to part them and the army for ever; “that in any political
event, the army has its alternative. If peace, that nothing shall separate you from your
arms but death; if war, that, courting the auspices, and inviting the direction of your
illustrious leader, you will retire to some unsettled country, smile in your turn, and 'mock
when their fear cometh on.' Let it represent also, that should they comply with the
request of your late memorial, it would make you more happy and them more

reputable.”
Copies of these papers were placed in the hands of the commander-in-chief on the day
when they were circulated, and with consummate sagacity and profound political
wisdom, he resolved to guide and control the proceedings in a friendly manner at the
meeting of officers, rather than to check them by authority. In general orders the next
morning, he referred to the anonymous papers, as disorderly, and utterly disapproved of
by the commander-in-chief. At the same time he requested that the general and field[Pg
18] officers, with one officer of each company, and a proper representation of the staff of
the army, should assemble at a place designated, at twelve o'clock on Saturday, the
fifteenth, for the purpose of hearing the report of the committee of the army to Congress.
With masterly skill he requested the senior officer (General Gates, whom he suspected,
and doubtless with justice, of being the chief actor in the drama) to preside at the
meeting.
When this order appeared, Armstrong prepared and issued another address, more
subdued in tone, but so adroitly worded, as to convey the idea that Washington approved
of the scheme, the time of the meeting only being changed. This interpretation
Washington frustrated, by private conversation with the principal officers, in whose
good sense and integrity he had confidence. The minds of these he impressed with a
sense of the danger that must attend any rash act at such a crisis; and he inculcated
moderation and forbearance. He thus prepared the best men in camp to deliberate at the
coming conference, without passion or prejudice.
The meeting was held pursuant to the order of Washington. There was a full attendance
of officers, and Gates presided. There was a raised platform at one end of the room in
which the meeting was held, on which Gates and others sat. Upon this Washington took
a seat, and when the meeting was called to order, he advanced upon the platform, while
the most solemn silence prevailed in the assembly, and read an address which he had
prepared for the occasion. It was compact in thought, dignified and patriotic in
expression, and mild in language, yet severe in implication.[3][Pg 19]
When he had concluded the reading, Washington retired without uttering a word, leaving
the officers to deliberate without restraint.[Pg 20]The address had a most powerful and
salutary effect. The conference was brief. They did not deliberate long, but proceeded to
pass resolutions offered by Knox, and seconded by Putnam, by unanimous vote,
thanking the commander-in-chief for the course he had pursued; expressing their
unabated attachment to his person and their country; declaring their unshaken
confidence in the good faith of Congress, and their determination to bear with patience
their grievances, until, in due time, they should be redressed. Gates, as president of the
meeting, signed the address, and on the eighteenth, Washington, in general orders,
expressed his satisfaction.
[Pg 21]Thus was frustrated, by the sagacity, prudence, and wisdom of Washington, the
most dangerous scheme by which the liberties of America were put in jeopardy, next to
the treason of Arnold. It had no wicked features in common with that treason, but its

practical effects, if carried out, might have been almost equally disastrous.
To the president of Congress Washington wrote, when he transmitted to that body an
account of the affair just narrated:—
“The result of the proceedings of the grand convention of
officers, which I have the honor of sending to your excellency,
for the inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be
considered as the last glorious proof of patriotism which could
have been given by men who aspired to the distinction of a
patriot army; and will not only confirm their claim to the justice,
but will increase their title to the gratitude of their country.”
The excitement caused by these events had scarcely died away, when intelligence of the
signing of the preliminary treaty of peace reached the commander-in-chief. That
intelligence came to him in despatches from Robert L. Livingston, the secretary for
foreign affairs, and also in a letter from Alexander Hamilton, and other New York
delegates in Congress. It had been sent to them in the French ship, Triomphe, despatched
for the purpose by Count de Estiang, at the request of Lafayette. Washington
immediately wrote to Governor Clinton, saying:—
“I take the first moment of forwarding to your excellency the despatches from the
secretary of foreign affairs, which accompany this. They contain, I presume, all the
intelligence respecting peace, on which great and glorious event, permit me to
congratulate you with the greatest sincerity.” Upon the envelope, bearing the
superscription of this letter, Washington wrote, in a bold hand, and with a broad dash
under it—PEACE.
On the nineteenth of April, the seventh anniversary of the earlier bloodshedding in the
War for Independence, at Lexington and Concord, the intelligence of peace was
officially proclaimed to the army in general orders. “The generous task,” Washington
said, “for which we first flew to arms, being accomplished; the liberties of our
country[Pg 22] being fully acknowledged, and firmly secured, and the characters of those
who have persevered through every extremity of hardship, suffering, and danger, being
immortalized by the illustrious appellation of the patriot army, nothing now remains, but
for the actors of this mighty scene, to pursue a perfect, unvarying consistency of
character through the very last act; to close the drama with applause, and to retire from
the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and men, which has crowned all
their former virtuous actions.”
Ever mindful of the interests of his soldiers, Washington had procured the passage of a
resolution in Congress, that the services of the men engaged in the war, did not expire
until the definitive treaty of peace should be ratified, but that the commander-in-chief
might grant furloughs according to his own judgment, and permit the men to take their
arms home with them. Washington used this prerogative freely, but judiciously, and, by
degrees, the continental army was virtually disbanded, except a small force at
headquarters; for those dismissed on furlough were never called back to service. “Once

at home,” says Irving, “they sank into domestic-life; their weapons were hung over their
fireplaces—military trophies of the Revolution, to be prized by future generations.”
On the sixth of May Washington held a personal conference with Sir Guy Carleton, at
Tappan, in relation to the transfer of certain posts in the United States occupied by
British troops, and other arrangements; and two days afterward, Egbert Benson, William
S. Smith, and Daniel Parker, were appointed commissioners on the part of the
Americans, to inspect and superintend the embarkation of the tories, who were about to
leave for Nova Scotia, with their property. Several thousands of these unfortunate people
left New York for that far-east country, where, one of them observed, were “nine months
of winter, and three months of cold weather every year.”
In view of the approaching dissolution of the army, and their final separation, the
officers in camp, most of whom had worked shoulder to shoulder in the eight years
struggle, yearned for some bond of[Pg 23] association, whereby they should continue to
be like brothers, not only in the memory of the past, but in personal intercourse, and
friendly association. The idea of a society to be formed of all the officers of the
Revolution, American and foreign, was conceived by the large-hearted Knox, and on the
thirteenth of May, at the quarters of the Baron Steuben, a committee that had been
appointed for the purpose, submitted a plan to a meeting of officers. It was adopted, and
an association called the Society of the Cincinnati, was formed. That name was adopted,
because, like the noble Roman,LUCIUS QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS, they were about to return to
private life and their several employments, after serving the public.
The chief objects of the society were to promote cordial friendship and indissoluble
union among themselves; to commemorate by frequent re-unions the great struggle they
had just passed through; to use their best endeavors for the promotion of human liberty;
to cherish good feeling between the respective states; and to extend benevolent aid to
those of the society whose circumstances might require it. They formed a general
society, and elected Washington the president, and Knox the secretary. The former held
his office until his death, and was succeeded by General Alexander Hamilton. For
greater convenience, state societies were organized, which were auxiliary to the parent
society. To perpetuate the association, it was provided in the constitution, that the eldest
male descendant of an original member should be entitled to membership on the decease
of such member, “in failure thereof, the collateral branches, who may be judged worthy
of becoming its supporters and members.” During the remainder of his life, Washington
manifested a great interest in this society, and the re-unions were seasons of real
enjoyment for the members.[4]
On the eighth of June Washington addressed a circular letter to the governors of all the
states, on the subject of the disbanding of the army. It was a most able paper, evidently
prepared with care after much thought, and presenting, for the consideration of his[Pg
24]countrymen, topics and opinions of the greatest importance. With admirable skill he
drew a picture of the enviable condition and position of the United States, and their
citizens, and then remarked:—

"Such is our situation, and such our prospects; but
notwithstanding the cup of blessing is thus reached out to us—
notwithstanding happiness is ours, if we have a disposition to
seize the occasion and make it our own; yet it appears to me
there is an option still left to the United States of America,
whether they will be respectable and prosperous, or
contemptible and miserable as a nation. This is the time of their
political probation; this is the moment when the eyes of the
whole world are turned upon them; this is the time to establish
or ruin their national character for ever; this is the favorable
moment to give such a tone to the federal government as will
enable it to answer the ends of its institution; or this may be the
ill-fated moment for relaxing the powers of the Union,
annihilating the cement of the confederation, and exposing us to
become the sport of European politics, which may play one state
against another, to prevent their growing importance, and to
serve their own interested purposes. For, according to the system
of policy the states shall adopt at this moment, they will stand or
fall; and by their confirmation or lapse, it is yet to be decided
whether the Revolution must ultimately be considered as a
blessing or a curse; a blessing or a curse not to the present age
alone, for with our fate will the destiny of unborn millions be
involved.
“With this conviction of the importance of the present crisis,
silence in me would be a crime. I will therefore speak to your
excellency the language of freedom and sincerity, without
disguise. I am aware, however, those who differ from me in
political sentiments may perhaps remark, I am stepping out of
the proper line of my duty; and they may possibly ascribe to
arrogance or ostentation, what I know is alone the result of the
purest intention; but the rectitude of my own heart, which
disdains such unworthy motives—the part I have hitherto acted
in life—the determination I have formed of not taking any share
in public business hereafter—the[Pg 25] ardent desire I feel and
shall continue to manifest, of quietly enjoying in private life,
after all the toils of war, the benefits of a wise and liberal
government, will, I flatter myself, sooner or later convince my
countrymen, that I could have no sinister views in delivering,
with so little reserve, the opinions contained in this address.
“There are four things which I humbly conceive are essential to
the well-being, I may even venture to say, to the existence of the
United States, as an independent power.

“1st. An indissoluble union of the states under one federal head.
“2dly. A sacred regard to public justice.
“3dly. The adoption of a proper peace establishment. And,
“4thly. The prevalence of that pacific and friendly disposition
among the people of the United States, which will induce them
to forget their local prejudices and politics, to make those
mutual concessions which are requisite to the general prosperity,
and in some instances to sacrifice their individual advantages to
the interest of the community.
“These are the pillars on which the glorious fabric of our
independence and national character must be supported. Liberty
is the basis, and whoever would dare to sap the foundation, or
overturn the structure, under whatever specious pretext he may
attempt it, will merit the bitterest execration and the severest
punishment which can be inflicted by his injured country.”
With close and admirable logic he expatiated upon these four heads; and with the
earnestness of most profound conviction, he urged the importance of union, and the
vesting of the federal Congress with greater power. He then made a warm and generous
plea for the army, while treating upon the subject of public justice. Concerning proposed
half-pay and commutation, he observed:—
“As to the idea, which I am informed has, in some instances,
prevailed, that the half-pay and commutation are to be regarded
merely in the odious light of a pension, it ought to be exploded
for ever; that provision should be viewed, as it really was, a
reasonable compensation offered by Congress, at a time when
they had nothing[Pg 26] else to give to officers of the army, for
services then to be performed: it was the only means to prevent
a total dereliction of the service; it was a part of their hire. I may
be allowed to say, it was the price of their blood, and of your
independency; it is, therefore, more than a common debt, it is a
debt of honor; it can never be considered as a pension or
gratuity, nor cancelled until it is fairly discharged.”
After giving a sufficient apology for treating upon political topics, he concluded by
saying:—
“I have thus freely declared what I wished to make known,
before I surrendered up my public trust to those who committed
it to me. The task is now accomplished. I now bid adieu to your
excellency, as the chief magistrate of your state, at the same
time I bid a last farewell to the cares of office and all the
employments of public life.”

But, six long months of official labor, with all the anxieties and cares incident thereto,
were before the commander-in-chief. Even at the very moment when he was sending
forth his address, and making a noble plea to his country for justice to the army, a part of
that army was bringing dishonor upon the whole, by mutinous proceedings. About
eighty newly-recruited soldiers of the Pennsylvania line, stationed at Lancaster, marched
in a body to Philadelphia, where they were joined by about two hundred from the
barracks in that city. The whole body then proceeded, with drum and fife, and fixed
bayonets, to the statehouse, where the Pennsylvania legislature and the continental
Congress were in session, with the avowed purpose of demanding a redress of specified
grievances from the state authorities. They placed a guard at every door, and sent a
message in to the president and council, threatening them with violence if their demands
were not complied with in the course of twenty minutes. The Congress, feeling
themselves outraged, and doubting the strength of the local government to protect them
against any armed mob that might choose to assail them, sent a courier to Washington
with information of these proceedings, and then adjourned to meet at Princeton, in New
Jersey. This event[Pg 27] occurred on the twenty-first of June, and the Congress
reassembled at Princeton on the thirtieth.
Washington received information of the mutiny on the twenty-fourth, and immediately
detached General Howe, with fifteen hundred men to quell the insurrection and punish
the leaders. At the same time he wrote a letter to the president of Congress, in which he
expressed his sorrow and indignation that a mob of men, “contemptible in number, and
equally so in point of service, and not worthy to be called soldiers,” should have so
insulted the “sovereign authority of the United States.” He then vindicated the rest of the
army upon whom the act might cast dishonor. But the mutiny was quelled before Howe
reached Philadelphia, and bloodshed was prevented.
While waiting, “with little business and less command,” for the definitive treaty,
Washington made a tour northward from Newburg, of about seven hundred and fifty
miles. Governor Clinton accompanied him. They set out on the seventeenth of July,
ascended the Hudson to Albany, visited the places made memorable by Burgoyne's
defeat, passed down Lake George in light boats, and over to Ticonderoga, from the foot
of that beautiful sheet of water. They returned by nearly the same route to Schenectady,
and then went up the Mohawk as far as Fort Schuyler (now Rome); thence to Wood
creek, a tributary of Oneida lake, by which there was a water-communication with Lake
Ontario, at Oswego, and then traversed the country between the Mohawk and Otsego
lake. They were absent nineteen days, and performed a greater part of the journey on
horseback, much of it through an unbroken wilderness.
To the Chevalier de Chastellux, Washington wrote in October, respecting this tour:—
“Prompted by these actual observations I could not help taking a
more extensive view of the vast inland navigation of the United
States, from maps and the information of others; and could not
but be struck with the immense extent and importance of it, and
with the goodness of that Providence, which has dealt its favors

to us with so profuse a hand. Would to God we may have
wisdom[Pg 28] enough to improve them. I shall not rest contented
till I have explored the western country, and traversed those
lines, or great part of them, which have given bounds to a new
empire.”
Over all that region where then the primeval forest stood, the hand of industry has
spread the varied beauties and blessing of cultivation; and where the solitary Indian then
prowled with his rifle or arrow, in search of game for his appetite, a busy population,
inhabiting cities and villages, and thousands of pleasant cottages or stately mansions,
now dwell.
On his return to headquarters, Washington found a resolution of the Congress, calling
him to Princeton, where that body was in session. The chief object was to have him near
them for consultation and aid in the several arrangements for peace. The Congress
engaged a house, suitably furnished, for his use, at Rocky Hill, a few miles distant, and
he set out for Princeton on the eighteenth of August, leaving General Knox in command
at Newburg. On the twenty-sixth he had a formal public audience with Congress, when
that body presented a most affectionate address to him, in which they said:—
“It has been the particular happiness of the United States, that
during a war so long, so dangerous, and so important,
Providence has been graciously pleased to preserve the life of a
general, who has merited and possessed the uninterrupted
confidence and affection of his fellow-citizens. In other nations,
many have performed eminent services, for which they have
deserved the thanks of the public. But to you, sir, peculiar praise
is due. Your services have been essential in acquiring and
establishing the freedom and independence of your country.
They deserve the grateful acknowledgments of a free and
independent nation.”
This honorable reception was grateful to the feelings of Washington, for, next to the
approval of his God and his conscience, he coveted that of his country. Congress had
already voted him a rarer honor, an honor such as the senate of old Rome was fond of
conferring upon the heroes of the commonwealth. On the seventh of August they had—
[Pg 29]
“Resolved (unanimously, ten states being present), That an equestrian statue of General
Washington be erected at the place where the residence of Congress shall be
established,” and a committee appointed for the purpose reported a plan for a pedestal to
support the statue, with historical basso relievos upon it, and an appropriate inscription.
But this statue, like many other monumental testimonials, ordered by the old Congress,
was never made. Washington submitted to the unpleasant operation of having a plaster-
cast taken from his face, to be sent to the sculptor in Europe who should be employed to
execute the statue; but the cast was broken, and as he would not submit to the

manipulations again, the effort was abandoned.
On the third of September the definitive treaty for peace was signed at Paris, and by a
proclamation dated the eighteenth day of October, 1783, all officers and soldiers of the
continental army, absent on furlough, were discharged from further service; and all
others who had engaged to serve during the war, were to be discharged from and after
the third of November.
On the second of November, Washington, yet at Rocky Hill, issued his last general
orders, in which he addressed his soldiers as a father speaking to his children, and bade
them an affectionate farewell.[5]
[Pg 30]He then waited quietly for the British to evacuate New York city, that he might go
thither with a few troops that would remain in camp under Knox, take formal
possession, and then hasten to the seat of[Pg 31] Congress and resign his commission of
commander-in-chief of the American armies into their hands.
FOOTNOTES:
[2]The following is a copy of the notification: “A meeting
of the field-officers is requested at the public building on
Tuesday next at eleven o'clock. A commissioned officer
from each company is expected, and a delegate from the
medical staff. The object of this convention is to consider
the late letter of our representatives in Philadelphia, and
what measures (if any) should be adopted to obtain that
redress of grievances which they seem to have solicited in
vain.”
[3]The following is a copy of the address:
—"GENTLEMEN: By an anonymous summons, an
attempt has been made to convene you together; how
inconsistent with the rules of propriety, how unmilitary, and
how subversive of all order and discipline, let the good
sense of the army decide. In the moment of this summons,
another anonymous production was sent into circulation,
addressed more to the feelings and passions than to the
reason and judgment of the army. The author of the piece is
entitled to much credit for the goodness of his pen, and I
could wish he had as much credit for the rectitude of his
heart; for, as men see through different optics, and are
induced by the reflecting faculties of the mind to use
different means to attain the same end, the author of the
address should have had more charity than to mark for
suspicion the man who should recommend moderation and
longer forbearance; or, in other words, who should not

think as he thinks, and act as he advises.”
When Washington had concluded this paragraph, he
paused, took out his spectacles, begged the indulgence of
the audience while he put them on, and observed, “You see
I have grown gray in your service, and am now growing
blind.” The effect was electrical, and many an eye was
moistened by tears called forth by the incident. He then
proceeded:—
“But he had another plan in view, in which candor and
liberality of sentiment, regard to justice, and love of
country have no part; and he was right to insinuate the
darkest suspicion to effect the blackest design. That the
address is drawn with great art, and is designed to answer
the most insidious purposes; that it is calculated to impress
the mind with an idea of premeditated injustice in the
sovereign power of the United States, and rouse all those
resentments which must unavoidably flow from such a
belief; that the secret mover of this scheme, whoever he
may be, intended to take advantage of the passions while
they were warmed by the recollection of past distresses,
without giving time for cool, deliberate thinking, and that
composure of mind which is so necessary to give dignity
and stability to measures, is rendered too obvious, by the
mode of conducting the business, to need other proofs than
a reference to the proceedings.
“Thus much, gentlemen, I have thought it incumbent on me
to observe to you, to show upon what principles I opposed
the irregular and hasty meeting which was proposed to be
held on Tuesday last, and not because I wanted a
disposition to give you every opportunity, consistent with
your own honor and the dignity of the army, to make
known your grievances. If my conduct heretofore has not
evinced to you that I have been a faithful friend to the
army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally
unavailing and improper. But, as I was among the first who
embarked in the cause of our common country; as I have
never left your side one moment, but when called from you
on public duty; as I have been the constant companion and
witness of your distresses, and not among the last to feel
and acknowledge your merits; as I have ever considered
my own military reputation as inseparably connected with
that of the army; as my heart has ever expanded with joy

when I have heard its praises, and my indignation has
arisen when the mouth of detraction has been opened
against it, it can scarcely be supposed, at this last stage of
the war, that I am indifferent to its interests. But how are
they to be promoted? The way is plain, says the anonymous
addresser. 'If war continues, remove into the unsettled
country; there establish yourselves, and leave an ungrateful
country to defend itself.' But who are they to defend? Our
wives, our children, our farms, and other property which
we leave behind us? or, in this state of hostile separation,
are we to take the two first (the latter can not be removed)
to perish in a wilderness, with hunger, cold, and
nakedness?
“'If peace takes place, never sheathe your swords,' says he,
'until you have obtained full and ample justice.' This
dreadful alternative of either deserting our country in the
extremest hour of her distress, or turning our arms against
it—which is the apparent object—unless Congress can be
compelled into instant compliance, has something so
shocking in it, that humanity revolts at the idea. My God!
what can this writer have in view by recommending such
measures? Can he be a friend to the army? Can he be a
friend to this country? Rather, is he not an insidious foe?
some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plotting the ruin
of both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation
between the civil and military powers of the continent?
And what a compliment does he pay to our understandings,
when he recommends measures, in either alternative,
impracticable in their nature?
“But, here, gentlemen, I will drop the curtain, because it
would be as imprudent in me to assign my reasons for this
opinion, as it would be insulting to your conception to
suppose you stood in need of them. A moment's reflection
will convince every dispassionate mind of the physical
impossibility of carrying either proposal into execution.
There might, gentlemen, be an impropriety in my taking
notice, in this address to you, of an anonymous production;
but the manner in which that performance has been
introduced to the army, the effect it was intended to have,
together with some other circumstances, will amply justify
my observations on the tendency of that writing.
“With respect to the advice given by the author, to suspect

the man who shall recommend moderate measures and
longer forbearance, I spurn it, as every man, who regards
that liberty and reveres that justice for which we contend,
undoubtedly must; for, if men are to be precluded from
offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve
the most serious and alarming consequences that can invite
the consideration of mankind, reason is of no use to us. The
freedom of speech may be taken away, and dumb and silent
we may be led, like sheep, to the slaughter. I can not, in
justice to my own belief, and what I have great reason to
conceive is the intention of Congress, conclude this
address, without giving it as my decided opinion that that
honorable body entertains exalted sentiments of the
services of the army, and, from a full conviction of its
merits and sufferings, will do it complete justice; that their
endeavors to discover and establish funds for this purpose
have been unwearied, and will not cease till they have
succeeded, I have not a doubt. But, like all other large
bodies, where there is a variety of different interests to
reconcile, their determinations are slow. Why, then, should
we distrust them, and, in consequence of that distrust,
adopt measures which may cast a shade over that glory
which has been so justly acquired, and tarnish the
reputation of an army which is celebrated through all
Europe for its fortitude and patriotism? And for what is this
done? To bring the object we seek nearer? No; most
certainly, in my opinion, it will cast it at a greater distance.
For myself (and I take no merit in giving the assurance,
being induced to it from principles of gratitude, veracity,
and justice, a grateful sense of the confidence you have
ever placed in me), a recollection of the cheerful assistance
and prompt obedience I have experienced from you under
every vicissitude of fortune, and the sincere affection I feel
for an army I have so long had the honor to command, will
oblige me to declare, in this public and solemn manner, that
in the attainment of complete justice for all your toils and
dangers, and in the gratification of every wish, so far as
may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my
country; and those powers we are bound to respect, you
may freely command my services to the utmost extent of
my abilities.
“While I give you these assurances, and pledge myself in
the most unequivocal manner to exert whatever ability I am

possessed of in your favor, let me entreat you, gentlemen,
on your part, not to take any measures, which, viewed in
the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity and sully
the glory you have hitherto maintained. Let me request you
to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a
full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress,
that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will
cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed
in the resolutions which were published to you two days
ago, and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in
their power to render ample justice to you for your faithful
and meritorious services. And let me conjure you, in the
name of our common country, as you value your own
sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as
you regard the military and national character of America,
to express your utmost horror and detestation of the man
who wishes, under any specious pretenses, to overturn the
liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open
the flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge our rising
empire in blood.
“By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the
plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes; you
will defeat the insidious designs of your enemies, who are
compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice; you
will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled
patriotism and patient virtue rising superior to the pressure
of the most complicated sufferings; and you will, by the
dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to
say, when speaking of the glorious example you have
exhibited to mankind, 'Had this day been wanting, the
world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which
human nature is capable of attaining.'”—Journals of
Congress, viii 180-183.
[4]A full account of this society, with drawings of the
orders worn by the members, and the certificate of
membership, may be found in the first volume of Lossing's
Field-Book of the Revolution.
[5]The following is a copy of Washington's last general
order:—
“ROCKY HILL, NEAR PRINCETON, November 2, 1783.
“The United States in Congress assembled, after giving the

most honorable testimony to the merits of the federal
armies, and presenting them with the thanks of their
country, for their long, eminent, and faithful service, having
thought proper, by their proclamation bearing date the
sixteenth of October last, to discharge such part of the
troops as were engaged for the war, and to permit the
officers on furlough to retire from service, from and after
to-morrow, which proclamation having been communicated
in the public papers for the information and government of
all concerned; it only remains for the commander-in-chief
to address himself once more, and that for the last time, to
the armies of the United States (however widely dispersed
individuals who compose them may be), and to bid them an
affectionate, a long farewell.
“But before the commander-in-chief takes his final leave of
those he holds most dear, he wishes to indulge himself a
few moments in calling to mind a slight review of the past:
he will then take the liberty of exploring, with his military
friends, their future prospects; of advising the general line
of conduct which in his opinion ought to be pursued; and
he will conclude the address by expressing the obligations
he feels himself under for the spirited and able assistance
he has experienced from them in the performance of an
arduous office.
“A contemplation of the complete attainment (at a period
earlier than could have been expected) of the object for
which we contended against so formidable a power, can not
but inspire us with astonishment and gratitude. The
disadvantageous circumstances on our part, under which
the war was undertaken, can never be forgotten. The
singular interpositions of Providence in our feeble
condition, were such as could scarcely escape the attention
of the most unobserving; while the unparalleled
perseverance of the armies of the United States, through
almost every possible suffering and discouragement, for the
space of eight long years, was little short of a standing
miracle.
“It is not the meaning, nor within the compass of this
address, to detail the hardships peculiarly incident to our
service, or to describe the distresses which in several
instances have resulted from the extremes of hunger and
nakedness, combined with the rigors of an inclement

season: nor is it necessary to dwell on the dark side of our
past affairs. Every American officer and soldier must now
console himself for any unpleasant circumstances which
may have occurred, by a recollection of the uncommon
scenes in which he has been called to act no inglorious part,
and the astonishing events of which he has been a witness
—events which have seldom, if ever before, taken place on
the stage of human action, nor can they probably ever
happen again. For who has before seen a disciplined army
formed at once from such raw materials? Who that was not
a witness could imagine that the most violent local
prejudices would cease so soon; and that men who came
from different parts of the continent, strongly disposed by
the habits of education to despise and quarrel with each
other, would instantly become but one patriotic band of
brothers? Or who that was not on the spot, can trace the
steps by which such a wonderful Revolution has been
effected, and such a glorious period put to all our warlike
toils?
“It is universally acknowledged that the enlarged prospects
of happiness, opened by the confirmation of our
independence and sovereignty, almost exceed the power of
description; and shall not the brave men who have
contributed so essentially to these inestimable acquisitions,
retiring victorious from the field of war to the field of
agriculture, participate in all the blessings which have been
obtained? In such a republic, who will exclude them from
the rights of citizens, and the fruits of their labors? In such
a country, so happily circumstanced, the pursuits of
commerce and the cultivation of the soil will unfold to
industry the certain road to competence. To those hardy
soldiers who are actuated by the spirit of adventure, the
fisheries will afford ample and profitable employment; and
the extensive and fertile regions of the West will yield a
most happy asylum for those who, fond of domestic
enjoyment, are seeking personal independence. Nor is it
possible to conceive that any one of the United States will
prefer a national bankruptcy, and dissolution of the Union,
to a compliance with the requisitions of Congress, and the
payment of its just debts; so that the officers and soldiers
may expect considerable assistance, in recommencing their
civil operations, from the sums due to them from the
public, which must and will most inevitably be paid.

“In order to effect this desirable purpose, and to remove the
prejudices which may have taken possession of the minds
of any of the good people of the states, it is earnestly
recommended to all the troops that, with strong
attachments to the Union, they should carry with them into
civil society the most conciliating dispositions; and that
they should prove themselves not less virtuous and useful
as citizens than they have been persevering and victorious
as soldiers. What though there should be some envious
individuals who are unwilling to pay the debt the public
has contracted, or to yield the tribute due to merit; yet let
such unworthy treatment produce no invective, or any
instance of intemperate conduct; let it be remembered that
the unbiassed voice of the free citizens of the United States
has promised the just reward, and given the merited
applause; let it be known and remembered that the
reputation of the federal armies is established beyond the
reach of malevolence; and let a consciousness of their
achievements and fame still excite the men who composed
them to honorable actions, under the persuasion that the
private virtues of economy, prudence, and industry, will not
be less amiable in civil life than the more splendid qualities
of valor, perseverance, and enterprise, were in the field.
Every one may rest assured that much, very much of the
future happiness of the officers and men, will depend upon
the wise and manly conduct which shall be adopted by
them when they are mingled with the great body of the
community. And, although the general has so frequently
given it as his opinion, in the most public and explicit
manner, that unless the principles of the federal
government were properly supported, and the powers of the
Union increased, the honor, dignity, and justice of the
nation would be lost for ever; yet he can not help repeating
on this occasion so interesting a sentiment, and leaving it as
his last injunction to every officer and every soldier who
may view the subject in the same serious point of light, to
add his best endeavors to those of his worthy fellow-
citizens, toward effecting these great and valuable
purposes, on which our very existence as a nation so
materially depends.
“The commander-in-chief conceives little is now wanting
to enable the soldier to change the military character into
that of a citizen, but that steady and decent tenor of

behavior which has generally distinguished not only the
army under his immediate command, but the different
detachments and separate armies, through the course of the
war. From their good sense and prudence he anticipates the
happiest consequences: and while he congratulates them on
the glorious occasion which renders their services in the
field no longer necessary, he wishes to express the strong
obligations he feels himself under for the assistance he has
received from every class, and in every instance. He
presents his thanks, in the most serious and affectionate
manner, to the general officers, as well for their counsel on
many interesting occasions as for their ardor in promoting
the success of the plans he had adopted; to the
commandants of regiments and corps, and to the officers,
for their zeal and attention in carrying his orders promptly
into execution; to the staff, for their alacrity and exactness
in performing the duties of their several departments, and
to the non-commissioned officers and private soldiers for
their extraordinary patience in suffering as well as their
invincible fortitude in action. To various branches of the
army the general takes this last and solemn opportunity of
professing his inviolable attachment and friendship. He
wishes more than bare profession were in his power; that
he was really able to be useful to them all in future life. He
flatters himself, however, they will do him the justice to
believe that, whatever could with propriety be attempted by
him, has been done. And being now to conclude these his
last public orders, to take his ultimate leave, in a short time,
of the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the
armies he has so long had the honor to command, he can
only again offer, in their behalf, his recommendations to
their grateful country, and his prayers to the God of armies.
May ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest
of Heaven's favors, both here and hereafter, attend those
who, under the Divine auspices, have secured innumerable
blessings for others! With these wishes, and this
benediction, the commander-in-chief is about to retire from
service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and
the military scene to him will be closed for ever.”

CHAPTER III.
[Pg 32]
TOP
british troops leave the city of new york—american troops and civil
authorities enter and take possession—the british and american troops
contrasted—parting scene between washington and his officers—
washington settles his accounts with the united states—journey to
annapolis—complimentary dinner and ball there—washington resigns
his commission—his retirement to private life at mount vernon—
letters to his friends on the subject—washington's dreams of quiet life.
It was late in November, 1783, before the British troops were prepared to leave New
York, so large was the number of persons, and so great was the quantity of goods to be
first conveyed away. At length Sir Guy Carleton gave Washington notice when he would
be ready to surrender the city. Governor Clinton summoned the members of the state
council to convene at Eastchester on the twenty-first of November, to prepare for the re-
establishment of civil government in New York city and its vicinity, and a detachment of
troops came down from West Point to be ready to take possession of the posts about to
be evacuated by the British.
Carleton appointed the twenty-fifth of November as the day for the evacuation, and
before that time the British troops were drawn in from the surrounding posts. On the
morning of the twenty-fifth Washington and Governor Clinton were at Harlem, with the
detachment from West Point, under General Knox; and during the morning they all
moved toward the city, and halted at the Bowery. The troops were composed of light-
dragoons, light-infantry, and artillery, and were accompanied by the civil officers of the
state.
Between twelve and one o'clock the British troops were embarked. The fleet
immediately weighed anchor, and with a favoring[Pg 33]breeze sailed out the Narrows.
The American troops and the civil authorities then marched in and took formal
possession. Washington and Clinton, with their respective suites, led the procession,
escorted by a troop of Westchester cavalry. Then followed the lieutenant-governor and
members of the council, General Knox and the officers of the army, the speaker of the
assembly, and a large procession of citizens on horseback and on foot.

Entrance of the
American Army into New York,
November 25, 1873.
The evacuation of the British, and the entrance of the Americans, produced in the
inhabitants mingled feelings of joy and sadness. The whigs greatly rejoiced at their
deliverance, while the families of loyalists were saddened by the change. There was a
marked contrast between the troops that left and the troops that came. “We had been
accustomed for a long time to military display in all the finish and finery of garrison
life,” said an American lady to Mr. Irving; “the troops just leaving us were as if equipped
for show, and with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms, made a brilliant display;
the troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-clad and weather-beaten, and made a
forlorn appearance; but they were our troops, and as I looked at them and thought upon
all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were full, and I admired and
gloried in them the more, because they were weather-beaten and forlorn.”[6]
But joy was the predominant feeling, and on that night the city was a scene of public
festivity, and demonstrations of unbounded pleasure. The governor gave a feast, and
splendid fireworks illuminated the town.
On the fourth of December Washington was prepared for a journey to Annapolis, where
the Congress was in session, to resign his commission into their hands. A handsome
barge was made ready to convey him from the Whitehall ferry to Paulus's Hook (now
Jersey City), and lay at the stairs, ready manned at twelve o'clock. Meanwhile
Washington and his officers had assembled in the parlor of Fraunce's tavern, near by, to
take a final leave of each other. Marshall has left on record, a brief but touching
narrative[Pg 34] of the scene. As the commander-in-chief entered the room, and found
himself in the midst of his officers—his old companions-in-arms, many of whom had
shared with him the fortunes of war from its earliest stages—his tender feelings were too
powerful for concealment, and defied his usual self-command. Filling a glass of wine,

and taking it in his hand, he turned upon his friends a sad but benignant countenance,
and said:—
“With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you, most devoutly wishing
that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been
glorious and honorable.” After lifting the wine to his lips, and drinking a farewell
benediction, he added, while his voice trembled with emotion:—
“I can not come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will
come and take me by the hand.” General Knox being nearest, first turned to him.
Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand in silence, and embraced him
affectionately, while his eyes were suffused with tears. In the same affectionate manner,
every officer took leave of him. Not a word was spoken. Feeling held speech in
abeyance. The tear of manly sensibility was in every eye, and in dignified silence they
all followed their beloved chief as he left the room, passed through a corps of light-
infantry, and walked to Whitehall to embark. Having entered the barge, he turned to the
tearful friends upon the wharf, and waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. They stood
and watched the barge until it was hidden from their view by an angle of the battery,
when, in silent and solemn procession, they all returned to the place where they had
assembled.
Washington stopped a few days in Philadelphia, where he adjusted his accounts with the
comptroller of the treasury. These were all in perfect order, from the beginning of the
war until the moment of settlement, on the thirteenth of December. They were entirely in
his own hand-waiting. The gross amount was almost seventy-five thousand dollars, in
which were included moneys expended for secret service and in various incidental
charges. For his own services he would receive nothing.[Pg 35]
Washington's journey from New York to Annapolis, in Maryland, was one continued
ovation. The people everywhere received him with enthusiasm; and public meetings,
legislative assemblies, and learned and religious institutions, greeted him with addresses.
He arrived at Annapolis on Friday, the nineteenth of December, where he was joined by
Mrs. Washington and many warm personal friends. On the following day he addressed a
note to the Congress, inquiring when, and in what manner it would be proper to offer his
resignation; and on Monday he was present at a dinner ordered by that body. In the
evening he attended a grand ball given in his honor.
On Tuesday, the twenty-third, Washington wrote to the Baron Steuben—“This is the last
letter I shall write while I continue in the service of my country. The hour of my
resignation is fixed at twelve to-day; after which I shall become a private citizen on the
banks of the Potomac.”
At the hour named the chief was before the assembled Congress, of whom General
Thomas Mifflin was president. The hall was filled with public functionaries and military
officers, accompanied by ladies; and in the gallery was Mrs. Washington and many more
ladies than were on the floor below.
Washington was conducted to the hall by Secretary Thomson, when the president said,

“The United States in Congress assembled, are prepared to receive your
communication.” Washington then arose, and in a dignified manner, and clear, rich
voice, said:—
“Mr. PRESIDENT: The great events on which my resignation
depended, having at length taken place, I now have the honor of
offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of
presenting myself before them, to surrender into their hands the
trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring
from the service of my country. Happy in the confirmation of
our independence and sovereignty, and pleased with the
opportunity afforded the United States of becoming a
respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment I
accepted with diffidence; a diffidence in my abilities to
accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded
by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support[Pg 36] of
the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven.
The successful termination of the war has verified the most
sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for the interposition of
Providence, and the assistance I have received from my
countrymen, increases with every review of the momentous
contest. While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I
should do injustice to my own feelings not to acknowledge in
this place the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the
gentlemen who have been attached to my person during the war.
It was impossible the choice of confidential officers to compose
my family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to
recommend in particular those who have continued in the
service to the present moment, as worthy of the favorable notice
and patronage of Congress. I consider it as an indispensable
duty to close this last act of my official life by commending the
interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty
God, and those who have the superintendence of them to his
holy keeping. Having now finished the work assigned me, I
retire from the great theatre of action, and bidding an
affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I
have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my
leave of all the employments of public life.”
President Mifflin replied: “SIR—The United States, in Congress assembled, receive with
emotions too affecting for utterance, the solemn resignation of the authorities under
which you have led their troops with success through a perilous and a doubtful war.
Called upon by your country to defend its invaded rights, you accepted the sacred
charge, before it had formed alliances, and while it was without funds or a government

to support you. You have conducted the great military contest with wisdom and
fortitude, invariably regarding the rights of the civil power, through all disasters and
changes. You have, by the love and confidence of your fellow-citizens, enabled them to
display their martial genius, and transmit their fame to posterity. You have persevered,
until these United States, aided by a magnanimous king and nation, have been enabled,
under a just Providence, to close the war in freedom, safety, and independence;[Pg 37]in
which happy event we sincerely join you in congratulations. Having defended the
standard of liberty in this new world; having taught a lesson useful to those who inflict
and to those who feel oppression, you retire from the great theatre of action with the
blessings of your fellow-citizens. But the glory of your virtues will not terminate with
your military command; it will continue to animate remotest ages. We feel with you our
obligations to the army in general, and will particularly charge ourselves with the
interests of those confidential officers who have attended your person to this affecting
moment. We join you in commending the interests of our dearest country to the
protection of Almighty God, beseeching him to dispose the hearts and minds of its
citizens to improve the opportunity afforded them of becoming a happy and respectable
nation. And for you, we address to him our earnest prayers that a life so beloved may be
fostered with all his care; that your days may be as happy as they have been illustrious;
and that he will finally give you that reward which this world can not give.”
Washington, now a private citizen, hastened to his beloved home on the Potomac,
accompanied on the way by many friends, among whom was Colonel Walker, one the
aids of the Baron Steuben. By his hand, he sent a letter to Governor George Clinton—
the first that he wrote after his retirement from office—in which he said: “The scene is at
last closed. I am now a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac. I feel myself eased
of a load of public care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in cultivating the
affections of good men, and in the practice of the domestic virtues.”
It was on Christmas eve when Washington reached Mount Vernon. It must have been a
happy and a merry Christmas in that beautiful home, for the toils and dangers of war
were over, peace was smiling upon all the land, and the people were free and
independent. The enjoyment of his home, under these circumstances, was an exquisite
one to the retired soldier; and in his letters to his friends he gives frequent and touching
evidence of his happiness in private life. To Lafayette he wrote on the first of February:
—[Pg 38]
“At length, my dear marquis, I am become a private citizen on
the banks of the Potomac, and under the shadow of my own vine
and my own fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp, and the
busy scenes of public life. I am solacing myself with those
tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit
of fame, the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless
nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of
his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was
insufficient for us all, and the courtier, who is always watching

the countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious
smile, can have very little conception. I have not only retired
from all public employments, but I am retiring within myself,
and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths
of private life, with a heartfelt satisfaction. Envious of none, I
am determined to be pleased with all; and this my dear friend,
being the order of my march, I will move gently down the
stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers.”
A little later he wrote to Madam Lafayette, saying:—
“Freed from the clangor of arms and the bustle of a camp, from
the cares of public employment and the responsibility of office,
I am now enjoying domestic ease under the shadow of my own
vine and my own fig-tree; and in a small villa, with the
implements of husbandry and lambkins around me, I expect to
glide gently down the stream of life, till I am entombed in the
mansion of my fathers.
“Come, then, let me entreat you, and call my cottage your home;
for your own doors do not open to you with more readiness than
mine would. You will see the plain manner in which we live,
and meet with rustic civility; and you shall taste the simplicity
of rural life. It will diversify the scene, and may give you a
higher relish for the gayeties of the court, when you return to
Versailles. In these wishes and most respectful compliments,
Mrs. Washington joins me.”
Notwithstanding Washington's retirement was so perfect as to amount to positive
isolation for a month or more, on account of the effects of an intensely severe winter,
which closed almost every avenue to Mount Vernon, and suspended even neighborly
intercourse,[Pg 39]he found it extremely difficult to divest himself of the habits of the
camp. “Strange as it may seem,” he wrote to General Knox on the twentieth of February,
“it is nevertheless true, that it was not till lately I could get the better of my usual custom
of ruminating, as soon as I waked in the morning, on the business of the ensuing day;
and of my surprise at finding, after revolving many things in my mind, that I was no
longer a public man, nor had anything to do with public transactions.
“I feel now, however, as I conceive a wearied traveller must do, who, after treading
many a painful step with a heavy burthen on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, having
reached the haven to which all the former were directed; and from his house-top is
looking back, and tracing with an eager eye the meanders by which he escaped the
quicksands and mires which lay in his way; and into which none but the all-powerful
Guide and Dispenser of human events could have prevented his falling.”
Surely, if ever a man had cause for serenity of mind while taking a retrospect of his
public and private life, it was George Washington. From his youth he had walked in the

path of truth and rectitude, and throughout his long public career of about thirty years, at
the time of his retirement from the army, not a stain of dishonor—not even the suspicion
of a stain—had ever been seen upon his character. His moral escutcheon was bright, his
conscience was unqualifiedly approving, his country loved him above all her sons. With
a sincere desire to spend the remainder of his days as a simple farmer upon the Potomac,
without the ambition of being famous, or the expectation of being again called into
public life, he resumed his old domestic habits, and prepared for the enjoyment of the
evening of his days undisturbed by the turmoils of society around him.
“My manner of living is plain,” he wrote to a friend, “and I do not mean to be put out by
it. A glass of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready, and such as will be content to
partake of them, are always welcome. Those who expect more will be disappointed.”
But Washington's modest dream of quietude and simplicity of life in his home at Mount
Vernon was not realized.
FOOTNOTES:
[6]Life of Washington, iv. 440.
CHAPTER IV.
[Pg 40]
TOP
washington's private affairs—improvements commenced—
remuneration for services declined—visitors flock to mount vernon—
tour to the ohio—indian sachem and his prophecy—washington's
interest in internal improvements—his letter to governor harrison—
action of the virginia legislature—formation of companies—
washington declines receiving a donation of stock for his own benefit
—disposition of it—distinguished visitors at mount vernon—
washington's correspondence burdensome—mr. lear—artists and
literary men—pine and houdon at mount vernon—agricultural
pursuits and improvements—washington's domestic life after the war.
Washington took a careful survey of all his affairs, on retiring from the public service,
and perceived that much was to be done to retrieve losses, and to make his estate an
agreeable home, and suitable to his position in life. The mansion, two stories in height,
with only four rooms on a floor, was too small to accommodate the visitors who he well
knew, might be expected at Mount Vernon, and he had already determined to commence
its enlargement with the opening of the spring, as well as the adornment of the grounds
around it, and the improvement of his farms. To do this required a large outlay of time
and money; and, notwithstanding Washington had an ample fortune for a private

gentleman of moderate tastes, he perceived the necessity of practising economy. His
private affairs had become somewhat deranged, and his fortune diminished during the
war; and he knew that the current expenses of his household must thereafter be
materially increased.
At this juncture, when economy appeared so necessary, his consistency as a servant of
the public without pecuniary reward, was tested. The temptation came in the specious
form of a proposed[Pg 41] testimonial of public gratitude for his services, and was so
delicately presented to his mind, as almost to leave a doubt of its real purpose. It
originated with the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania, who, a few days before
Washington resigned his commission at Annapolis, remarked as follows in their
instructions to the delegates in Congress from that state:—
“Though his excellency, General Washington, proposes in a
short time to retire, yet his illustrious actions and virtues render
his character so splendid and venerable, that, it is highly
probable, the admiration and esteem of the world may make his
life in a very considerable degree public, as numbers will be
desirous of seeing the great and good man, who has so
eminently contributed to the happiness of a nation. His very
services to his country, may, therefore, subject him to expenses,
unless he permits her gratitude to interpose.
“We are perfectly acquainted with the disinterestedness and
generosity of his soul. He thinks himself amply rewarded for all
his labors and cares, by the love and prosperity of his fellow-
citizens. It is true, no rewards they can bestow can be equal to
his merits. But they ought not to suffer those merits to be
burdensome to him. We are convinced that the people of
Pennsylvania would regret such a consequence.
“We are aware of the delicacy with which this subject must be
treated. But relying upon the good sense of Congress, we wish it
may engage their early attention.”
President Mifflin forwarded a copy of these instructions to Washington, because it was
thought advisable not to lay them before Congress without his knowledge and
approbation. True to the consistency of his character, Washington promptly declined the
intended favor. “I can not but feel,” he said, in reply to Mifflin, “the greatest obligations
to the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania. But as my sentiments on the subject
of their instructions have been long and well known to the public, I need not repeat them
to your excellency on the present occasion.” All proceedings on the subject were
accordingly stopped.[Pg 42]
1784
With the opening of the spring of 1784, numerous visitors began to make their way to

Portrait of Washington After Siege of Yorktown

Portrait of Washington After Siege of Yorktown

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