1777 A. D.
Spring-time came "the time when Kings go out to
battle—but General Howe was not ready. Washington was contented to wait, for
lie gained by delay. Congress sent him word that he was to lose no time in
totally subduing the enemy. Washington could now afford to smile at the vain
confidence which had so quickly taken the place of despair. Recruits flowed
in upon him in a steady, if not a very copious stream. The old soldiers
whose terms expired were induced, by bounties and patriotic appeals, to
re-enlist for the war. By the middle of June, when Howe opened the campaign,
Washington had 8000 men under his command, tolerably armed and disciplined,
and in good fighting spirit. The patriotic sentiment was powerfully
reinforced by a thirst to avenge private wrongs. Howe's German mercenaries
had behaved very brutally in New Jersey—plundering and burning without
stint. Many of the Americans had witnessed outrages such as turn time
coward's blood to flame.
Howe wished to take Philadelphia, then the
political capital of the States. But Washington lay across his path, in a
strong position, from which he could not be enticed to descend. Howe marched
towards him, but shunned to attack him where he lay. Then he turned back to
New York, and embarking his troops, sailed with them to Philadelphia. The
army was landed on the 25th August, and Howe was at length ready to begin
the summer's work.
The American army waited
for him on the banks of a small river called the Brandywine. The British
superiority in numbers enabled them to attack the Americans in front and in
flank. The Americans say that their right wing, on which the British attack
fell with crushing weight, was badly led. One of the generals of that
division was a certain William Alexander-- known to himself and the country
of his adoption as Lord Stirling—a warrior brave but foolish; "aged, and a
little deaf." The Americans were driven from the field, but they had fought
bravely, and were undismayed by their defeat.
A fortnight later a British force, with Lord Cornwallis at its head, marched
into Philadelphia. The Royalists were strong in that city of
Quakers—specially strong among the Quakers themselves. The city was moved to
unwonted cheerfulness. On that September morning, as the loyal inhabitants
looked upon the bright uniforms and flashing arms of the King's troops, and
listened to the long-forbidden strains of "God save the King," they felt as
if a great and final deliverance had been vouchsafed to them. The patriots
estimated the fall of the city more justly. It was seen that if Howe meant
to hold Philadelphia, he had not force enough to do much else. Said the
sagacious Benjamin Franklin,—"It is not General Howe that has taken
Philadelphia; it is Philadelphia that has taken General Howe."
The main body of the British were encamped at
Germantown, guarding their new conquest. So little were the Americans
daunted by their late reverses, that, within a week from the capture of
Philadelphia, Washington resolved to attack the enemy. At sunrise on the 4th
October the English were unexpectedly greeted by a bayonet-charge from a
strong American force. It was a complete surprise, and at first the success
was complete. But a dense fog, which had rendered the surprise possible,
ultimately frustrated the purpose of the assailants. The onset of the eager
Americans carried all before it. But as the darkness, enhanced by the
firing, deepened over the combatants, confusion began to arise. Regiments
got astray from their officers. Some regiments mistook each other for
enemies, and acted on that belief. Confusion swelled to panic, and the
Americans fled from the field.
Winter was now
at hand, and the British army returned to quarters in Philadelphia. Howe
would have fought again, but Washington declined to come down from the
strong position to which he had retired. his army had again been suffered to
fall into straits which threatened its very existence. A patriot Congress
urged him to defeat the English, but could not be persuaded to supply his
soldiers with shoes or blankets, or even with food. He was advised to fall
back on some convenient town where his soldiers would find the comforts they
needed so much. But Washington was resolute to keep near the enemy. He fixed
on a position at Valley Forge, among the hills, twenty miles from
Philadelphia. Thither through the snow marched his half-naked army. Log-huts
were erected with a rapidity of which no soldiers are so capable as
Americans. There Washington fixed himself. The enemy was within reach, and
he knew that his own strength would grow. The campaign which had now closed
had given much encouragement to the patriots. It is true they had been often
defeated. But they had learned to place implicit confidence in their
commander. They had learned also that in courage they were equal, in
activity greatly superior, to their enemies. All they required was
discipline and experience, which another campaign would give. There was no
longer any reason to look with alarm upon the future.
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