Camp, 30th December, 1777.
MY DEAR GENERAL,—I went yesterday morning to head-quarters with an intention of speaking to your excellency, but you were too busy, and I shall lay down in this letter what I wished to say.
I don't need to tell you that I am sorry for all that has happened for some time past. It is a necessary dependence of my most tender and respectful friendship for you, which affection is as true and candid as the other sentiments of my heart, and much stronger than so new an acquaintance seems to admit; but another reason, to be concerned in the present circumstances, is my ardent and perhaps enthusiastic wishes for the happiness and liberty of this country. I see plainly that America can defend herself if proper measures are taken, and now I begin to fear lest she should be lost by herself and her own sons.
When I was in Europe I thought that here almost every man was a lover of liberty, and would rather die free than live a slave. You can conceive my astonishment when I saw that toryism was as openly professed as whiggism itself: however, at that time I believed that all good Americans were united together; that the confidence of congress in you was unbounded. Then I entertained the certitude that America would be independent in case she should not lose you. Take away, for an instant, that modest diffidence of yourself, (which, pardon my freedom, my dear General, is sometimes too great, and I wish you could know, as well as myself, what difference there is between you and any other man,) you would see very plainly that if you were lost for America, there is no body who could keep the army and the revolution for six months. There are open dissensions in congress, parties who hate one another as much as the common enemy; stupid men, who, without knowing a single word about war, undertake to judge you, to make ridiculous comparisons; they are infatuated with Gates, without thinking of the different circumstances, and believe that attacking is the only thing necessary to conquer. Those ideas are entertained in their minds by some jealous men, and perhaps secret friends to the British Government, who want to push you in a moment of ill humour to some rash enterprise upon the lines, or against a much stronger army. I should not take the liberty of mentioning these particulars to you if I did not receive a letter about this matter, from a young good-natured gentleman at York, whom Conway has ruined by his cunning, bad advice, but who entertains the greatest respect for you.
I have been surprised at first, to see the few establishments of this board of war, to see the difference made between northern and southern departments, to see resolves from congress about military operations; but the promotion of Conway is beyond all my expectations. I should be glad to have new major-generals, because, as I know, you take some interest in my happiness and reputation it is, perhaps, an occasion for your excellency to give me more agreeable commands in some interesting instances. On the other hand, General Conway says he is entirely a man to be disposed of by me. He calls himself my soldier, and the reason of such behaviour to me is, that he wishes to be well spoken of at the French court, and his protector, the Marquis de Castries, is an intimate acquaintance of mine; but since the letter of Lord Stirling I inquired in his character. I found that he was an ambitious and dangerous man. He has done all in his power, by cunning manoeuvres, to take off my confidence and affection for you. His desire was to engage me to leave this country. Now I see all the general officers of the army against congress; such disputes, if known by the enemy, would be attended with the worst consequences. I am very sorry whenever I perceive troubles raised among the defenders of the same cause, but my concern is much greater when I find officers coming from France, officers of some character in my country, to whom any fault of that kind may be imputed. The reason of my fondness for Conway was his being by all means a very brave and very good officer. However, that talent for manoeuvres, and which seems so extraordinary to congress, is not so very difficult a matter for any man of common sense who applies himself to it. I must pay to General Portail, and some French officers, who came to speak me, the justice to say, that I found them as I could wish upon this occasion; for it has made a great noise among many in the army. I wish, indeed, those matters could be soon pacified. I wish your excellency could let them know how necessary you are to them, and engage them at the same time to keep peace, and simulate love among themselves till the moment when those little disputes shall not be attended with such inconveniences. It would be, too, a great pity that slavery, dishonour, ruin, and unhappiness of a whole world, should issue from some trifling differences between a few men.
You will find, perhaps, this letter very useless, and even inopportune; but I was desirous of having a pretty, long conversation with you upon the present circumstances, to explain you what I think of this matter. As a proper opportunity for it did not occur, I took the liberty of laying down some of my ideas in this letter, because it is for my satisfaction to be convinced that you, my dear general, who have been indulgent enough to permit me to look on you as upon a friend, should know the confession of my sentiments in a matter which I consider as a very important one. I have the warmest love for my country and for every good Frenchman; their success fills my heart with joy; but, sir, besides, Conway is an Irishman, I want countrymen, who deserve, in every point, to do honour to their country. That gentleman had engaged me by entertaining my head with ideas of glory and shining projects, and I must confess, to my shame, that it is a too certain way of deceiving me.
I wished to join to the few theories about war I can have, and the few dispositions nature gave, perhaps, to me, the experience of thirty campaigns, in hope that I should be able to be the more useful in the present circumstances. My desire of deserving your satisfaction is stronger than ever, and everywhere you will employ me you can be certain of my trying every exertion in my power to succeed. I am now fixed to your fate, and I shall follow it and sustain it as well by my sword as by all means in my power. You will pardon my importunity in favour of the sentiment which dictated it. Youth and friendship make me, perhaps, too warm, but I feel the greatest concern at all that has happened for some time since.
With the most tender and profound respect, I have the honour to be, &c.
Endnote:
1. This letter was occasioned by the momentary success of an intrigue, known in American history under the name of Conway's cabal. Conway, who wished to oppose Gates to Washington, had written to the former a letter, in which he attacked the general-in-chief. An aide-de-camp of Lord Stirling gained knowledge of that letter, and communicated its contents to Washington, who entered immediately into an explanation with Conway, in consequence of which the latter sent in his resignation, and announced the intention of re-entering the service of France. The resignation was not accepted by congress, and Conway was, on the contrary, named inspector-general of the army, with the rank of major-general, and the formation of the war office in relation to the mercenary troops. We see, by a letter from General Washington, that M. de Lafayette was the only person to whom he shewed General Conway's letter, transmitted by Lord Stirling's aide-de-camp.—(Letter to Horatio Gates, of the 4th of January, 1778, written from Washington. V. 1st, Appendix No. 6.)
Head-quarters, December 31st, 1777.
MY DEAR MARQUIS,—Your favour of yesterday conveyed to me fresh proof of that friendship and attachment, which I have happily experienced since the first of our acquaintance, and for which I entertain sentiments of the purest affection. It will ever constitute part of my happiness to know that I stand well in your opinion; because I am satisfied that you can have no views to answer by throwing out false colours, and that you possess a mind too exalted to condescend to low arts and intrigues to acquire a reputation. Happy, thrice happy, would it have been for this army and the cause we are embarked in, if the same generous spirit had pervaded all the actors in it. But one gentleman, whose name you have mentioned, had, I am confident, far different views; his ambition and great desire of being puffed off, as one of the first officers of the age, could only be equalled by the means which he used to obtain them. But finding that I was determined not to go beyond the line of my duty to indulge him in the first—nor to exceed the strictest rules of propriety to gratify him in the second—he became my inveterate enemy; and he has, I am persuaded, practised every art to do me an injury, even at the expense of reprobating a measure that did not succeed, that he himself advised to. How far he may have accomplished his ends, I know not; and except for considerations of a public nature, I care not; for, it is well known, that neither ambitious nor lucrative motives, led me to accept my present appointments, in the discharge of which, I have endeavoured to observe one steady and uniform system of conduct, which I shall invariably pursue, while I have the honour to command, regardless of the tongue of slander, or the powers of detraction. The fatal tendency of disunion is so obvious, that I have, in earnest terms, exhorted such officers as have expressed their dissatisfaction at General Conway's promotion, to be cool and dispassionate in their decision about the matter; and I have hopes that they will not suffer any hasty determination to injure the service. At the same time, it must be acknowledged, that officers' feelings upon these occasions are not to be restrained, although you may control their actions.
The other observations contained in your letter have too much truth in them; and, it is much to be lamented, that things are not now as they formerly were. But we must not, in so great a contest, expect to meet with nothing but sunshine. I have no doubt that everything happens for the best, that we shall triumph over all our misfortunes, and, in the end, be happy; when, my dear marquis, if you will give me your company in Virginia, we will laugh at our past difficulties and the folly of others; and I will endeavour, by every civility in my power, to shew you how much, and how sincerely, I am your affectionate and obedient servant.
Valley Forge, December 31st, 1777.
My Dear General,—I should have much reproached myself the liberty I took of writing to your excellency, if I had believed it could engage you in the trouble of answering that letter. But now, as you have written it, I must tell you that I received this favour with the greatest satisfaction and pleasure. Every assurance and proof of your affection fills my heart with joy, because that sentiment of yours is extremely dear and precious to me. A tender and respectful attachment for you, and an invariable frankness, will be found in my mind as you know me better; but, after those merits, I must tell you, that very few others are to be found. I never wished so heartily to be entrusted by nature with an immensity of talents than on this occasion; I could be then of some use to your glory and happiness, as well as to my own.
What man do not join the pure ambition of glory with this other ambitious of advancement, rank, and fortune? As an ardent lover of laurels, I cannot bear the idea that so noble a sentiment should be mixed with any low one. In your preaching moderation to the brigadiers upon such an occasion, I am not surprised to recognise your virtuous character. As I hope my warm interest is known to your excellency, I dare entertain the idea that you will be so indulgent as to let me know everything concerning you, whenever you will not be under the law of secrecy or particular circumstances.
With the most tender and affectionate friendship—with the most profound respect—I have the honour to be, &c.
What a date, my dearest love, and from what a region I am now writing, in the month of January! It is in a camp, in the centre of woods, fifteen hundred leagues from you, that I find myself enclosed in the midst of winter. It is not very long since we were only separated from the enemy by a small river; we are at present stationed seven leagues from them, and it is on this spot that the American army will pass the whole winter, in small barracks, which are scarcely more cheerful than dungeons. I know not whether it will be agreeable to General Howe to visit our new city, in which case we would endeavour to receive him with all due honour. The bearer of this letter will describe to you the pleasant residence which I choose in preference to the happiness of being with you, with all my friends, in the midst of all possible enjoyments; in truth, my love, do you not believe that powerful reasons are requisite to induce a person to make such a sacrifice? Everything combined to urge me to depart,—honour alone told me to remain; and when you learn in detail the circumstances in which I am placed, those in which the army, my friend, its commander, and the whole American cause were placed, you will not only forgive me, but you will excuse, and I may almost venture to say, applaud me. What a pleasure I shall feel in explaining to you myself all the reasons of my conduct, and, in asking, whilst embracing you, a pardon, which I am very certain I shall then obtain! But do not condemn me before hearing my defence. In addition to the reasons I have given you, there is one other reason which I would not relate to every one, because it might appear like affecting airs of ridiculous importance. My presence is more necessary at this moment to the American cause, than you can possibly conceive; many foreigners, who have been refused employment, or whose ambitious views have been frustrated, have raised up some powerful cabals; they have endeavoured, by every sort of artifice, to make me discontented with this revolution, and with him who is its chief; they have spread as widely as they could, the report that I was quitting the continent. The English have proclaimed also, loudly, the same intention on my side. I cannot in conscience appear to justify the malice of these people. If I were to depart, many Frenchmen who are useful here would follow my example. General Washington would feel very unhappy if I were to speak of quitting him; his confidence in me is greater than I dare acknowledge, on account of my youth. In the place he occupies, he is liable to be surrounded by flatterers or secret enemies; he finds in me a secure friend, in whose bosom he may always confide his most secret thoughts, and who will always speak the truth. Not one day passes without his holding long conversations with me, writing me long letters, and he has the kindness to consult me on the most important matters. A peculiar circumstance is occurring at this moment which renders my presence of some use to him: this is not the time to speak of my departure. I am also at present engaged in an interesting correspondence with the president of congress. The desire to debase England, to promote the advantage of my own country, and the happiness of humanity, which is strongly interested in the existence of one perfectly free nation, all induces me not to depart at the moment when my absence might prove injurious to the cause I have embraced. The General, also, after a slight success in Jersey, requested me, with the unanimous consent of congress, to accept a division in the army, and to form it according to my own judgment, as well as my feeble resources might permit; I ought not to have replied to such a mark of confidence, by asking what were his commissions for Europe. These are some of the reasons, which I confide to you, with an injunction of secrecy. I will repeat to you many more in person, which I dare not hazard in a letter. This letter will be given you by a good Frenchman, who has come a hundred miles to ask me for my commissions. I wrote to you a few days ago by the celebrated Mr. Adams; he will facilitate your sending me letters. You must have received those I sent you as soon as I heard of your confinement. How very happy that event has rendered me, my dearest love! I delight in speaking of it in all my letters, because I delight in occupying myself with it at every moment of my life! What a pleasure it will give me to embrace my two poor little girls, and make them request their mother to forgive me! You do not believe me so hard hearted, and at the same time so ridiculous, as to suppose that the sex of our new infant can have diminished in any degree my joy at its birth. Our age is not so far advanced, that we may not expect to have another child, without a miracle from Heaven. The next one must absolutely be a boy. However, if it be on account of the name that we are to regret not having a son, I declare that I have formed the project of living long enough to bear it many years myself, before I yield it to any other person. I am indebted to the Marshal de Noailles for the joyful news. I am anxiously expecting a letter from you. I received the other day one from Desplaces, who mentioned having sent a preceding one; but the caprice of the winds, without speaking of English ships, often deranges the order of my correspondence. I was for some days very uneasy about the Viscount de Coigny, who, some of my letters announced, was in a precarious state of health. But that letter from Desplaces, who told me all were well, without mentioning the viscount's name, has quite reassured me. I have also received some other letters which do not speak of his health. When you write, I entreat you to send me many details of all the people whom I love, and even of all my acquaintance. It is very extraordinary that I have not heard of Madame de Fronsac's confinement. Say a thousand tender and respectful things from me to her, as well as to the Countess Auguste. If those ladies do not enter into the reasons which force me to remain here, they must indeed think me a most absurd being, more especially as they have opportunities of seeing clearly what a charming wife I am separated from; but even that may prove to them what powerful motives must guide my conduct. Several general officers have brought their wives to the camp; I envy them—not their wives—but the happiness they enjoy in being able to see them. General Washington has also resolved to send for his wife. As to the English, they have received a reinforcement of three hundred young ladies from New York; and we have captured a vessel filled with chaste officers' wives, who had come to rejoin their husbands: they were in great fear of being kept for the American army.
You will learn by the bearer of this letter that my health is very good, that my wound is healed, and that the change of country has produced no effect upon me. Do you not think that, at my return, we shall be old enough to establish ourselves in our own house, live there happily together, receive our friends, institute a delightful state of freedom, and read foreign newspapers, without feeling any curiosity to judge by ourselves of what may pass in foreign countries? I enjoy thus building, in France, castles of felicity and pleasure: you always share them with me, my dearest love, and when we are once united, nothing shall again separate us, or prevent our experiencing together, and through each other, the joy of mutual affection, and the sweetest and most tranquil happiness. Adieu, my love; I only wish this project could be executed on this present day. Would it not be agreeable to you also? Present my tender respects to Madame d'Ayen: embrace a thousand times the viscountess and my sisters. Adieu, adieu; continue to love me, and forget not for a moment the unhappy exile who thinks incessantly of thee with renewed ardour and tenderness.
DEAR GENERAL,—I shall make use, in this particular instance, of the liberty you gave me, of telling freely every idea of mine which could strike me as not being useless to a better order of things.
There were two gentlemen, same rank, same duty to perform, and same neglect of it, who have been arrested the same day by me. As I went in the night around the picquets, I found them in fault, and I gave an account of it the next day to your excellency. You answered, that I was much in wrong not to have had them relieved and arrested immediately. I objected that it was then very late for such a changement, and that I did not know which was the rule in this army, but that the gentlemen should be arrested in that very moment. The last answer of your excellency has been, "they are to have a court-martial, and you must give notice of it to the adjutant-general." Therefore, Major Nevil made two letters in order to arrest them,one for having been surprised in his post, and the other, for the same cause,and allowing his sentries to have fires, which he could see in standing before the picquet. I give you my word of honour, that there was not any exaggeration.
Now I see in the orders, the less guilty punished in a manner much too severe indeed, and dismissed from the service, (it is among all the delicate minds deprived of his honour,) when he was only to be severely reprimanded and kept for some time under arrest. But it can be attributed to a very severe discipline.
What must I think of the same court, when they unanimously acquit (it is to say that my accusation is not true) the officer who joins to the same fault, entirely the same this, of allowing his sentries to have fire in his own sight; for in every servicebeing surprisedor being found in the middle of his picquet without any challenging or stopping sentry, as Major Nevil, riding before me, found him, is entirely the same thing; and Major Nevil, riding before me, when I was busy to make a sentry pull off his fire, can swear that such was the case with that officer—he can do more than swearing, for he can give his word of honour, and I think that ideahonouris the same in every country.
But thepréjugésare not the same thing; for giving publicly the best of such a dispute (for here it becomes a trial for both parties) to an officer of the last military stage against one of the first, should be looked on as an affront to the rank, and acquitting a man, whom one other man accuses, looked upon as an affront to the person. It is the same in Poland, for Count de Pulaski was much affronted at the decision of a court-martial entirely acquitting Colonel Molens. However, as I know the English customs, I am nothing else but surprised to see such a partiality in a court-martial.
Your excellency will certainly approve my not arresting any officer for being brought before a court-martial for any neglect of duty; but when they will be robbers or cowards, or when they will assassinate—in all, when they will deserve being cashiered or put to death.
Give me leave to tell your excellency how I am adverse to court-martials. I know it is the English custom, and I believe it is a very bad one. It comes from their love of lawyers, speakers, and of that black apparatus of sentences and judgments; but such is not the American temper, and I think this new army must pick up the good institutions, and leave the bad ones wherever they may be. In France, an officer is arrested by his superior, who gives notice of it to the commanding officer, and then he is punished enough in being deprived of going out of his room in time of peace—of going his duty in time of war. Nobody knows of it but his comrades. When the fault is greater, he is confined in a common room for prisoner officers, and this is much more shameful. Notice of it is immediately given to the general officer who commands there. That goes, too, to the king's minister, who is to be replaced here by the commander-in-chief; in time of war, it goes to the general-in-chief.
Soldiers are punished the same, or next day, by order of proper officers, and the right of punishing is proportionate to their ranks.
But when both officers and soldiers have done something which deserves a more severe punishment; when their honour, or their life, or their liberty for more than a very short time, is concerned, then a court-martial meets, and the sentence is known. How will you let an unhappy soldier be confined several weeks with men who are to be hanged, with spies, with the most horrid sort of people, and in the same time be lost for the duty, when they deserve only some lashes. There is no proportion in the punishments.
How is it possible to carry a gentleman before a parcel of dreadful judges, at the same place where an officer of the same rank has been just now cashiered, for a trifling neglect of his duty; for, I suppose, speaking to his next neighbour, in a manoeuvre for going into a house to speak to a pretty girl, when the army is on its march, and a thousand other things? How is it possible to bring to the certainty of being cashiered or dishonoured, a young lad who has made a considerable fault because he had a light head, a too great vivacity, when that young man would be, perhaps, in some years, the best officer of the army, if he had been friendly reprimanded and arrested for some time, without any dishonour?
The law is always severe; and brings with it an eternal shameful mark. When the judges are partial, as on this occasion, it is much worse, because they have the same inconvenience as law itself.
In court-martial, men are judged by their inferiors. How it is averse to discipline, I don't want to say. The publication exposes men to be despised by the least soldier. When men have been before a court-martial, they should be or acquitted or dismissed. What do you think can be produced by the half condemnation of a general officer? What necessity for all the soldiers, all the officers, to know thatGeneral Maxwell has been prevented from doing his duty by his being drunk?Where is the man who will not laugh at him, if he is told by him,you are a drunkard;and is it right to ridiculize a man, respectable by his rank, because he drank two or three gills of rum?
These are my reasons against courts-martial, when there is not some considerable fault to punish. According to my affair, I am sorry in seeing the less guilty beingthe only one punished. However, I shall send to courts-martial but for such crimes that there will be for the judges no way of indulgence and partiality.
With the most tender respect, I am, &c.
I shall never have any cause to reproach myself, my dearest love, with having allowed an opportunity to pass without writing to you, and I have found one by M. du Bouchet, who has the happiness of embarking for France. You must have already received several letters in which I speak of the birth of our new infant, and of the pleasure this joyful event has given me. If I thought that you could imagine the happiness I feel at this event had been at all diminished because our Anastasia is only a daughter, I should be so much displeased with you, that I should but love you a very little for a few moments. O, my love! what an enchanting pleasure it will be for me to embrace you all; what a consolation to be able to weep with my other friends for the dear friend whom I have lost!
I will not give you a long account of the proofs of confidence with which I have been honoured by America. Suffice it to say that Canada is oppressed by the English; the whole of that immense country is in the power of the enemy, who are there in possession of troops, forts, and a fleet. I am to repair thither with the title of General of the Northern Army, at the head of three thousand men, to see if no evil can be done to the English in that country. The idea of rendering the whole of New France free, and of delivering her from a heavy yoke, is too glorious for me to allow myself to dwell upon it. My army would, in that case, increase at an immense rate, and would be increased also by the French. I am undertaking a most difficult task, above all taking into account the few resources I possess. As to those my own merit offers, they are very trifling in comparison to the importance of the place; nor can a man of twenty be fit to command an army, charged with the numerous details to which a general must attend, and having under his direct orders a vast extent of country.
The number of the troops I shall command would appear, I own, trifling in Europe, but it is considerable for America. What gives me most pleasure in all this is, that, under any circumstances, I shall be now sooner able to rejoin you. How delightful it will be to hurry through my affairs with the English there above! I am just setting out for Albany, and from thence to another place, nearly a hundred and fifty leagues from hence, where my labours will commence. I shall go part of the way on sledges; having once reached that spot, I shall have only ice to tread upon.
I do not write to any of my friends by this opportunity. I have an immense deal of business to do; there is an infinite number of military and political affairs to arrange; there are so many things to repair, so many new obstacles to remove, that I should require, in truth, forty years' experience, and very superior talents, to be able to conquer all the difficulties I meet with. I will, at least, do the best I can, and if I only succeed in occupying the enemy's attention in the north, even if I do them no other injury, it would be rendering an important service, and my little army would not be wholly useless. Be so kind as to tell the prince~{1} that his youthful captain, although now a general-in-chief, has not acquired more knowledge than he possessed at Polygone, and that he knows not how, unless chance or his good angel should direct him, to justify the confidence which has been placed in him. A thousand tender respects to Madame d'Ayen. A thousand assurances of my tender affection to the viscountess and all my sisters. Do not forget me to your father, Madame de Tessé, and the Marshal de Noailles. Adieu, adieu, my dearest love; embrace our dear children; I embrace a million of times their beloved mother. When shall I find myself again within her arms?
Endnote:
1. The Prince de Poix, colonel of the regiment de Noailles, in which M. de Lafayette was captain.
Hemingtown, the 9th February, 1778.
Dear General,—I cannot let go my guide without taking this opportunity of writing to your excellency, though I have not yet public business to speak of. I go on very slowly; sometimes drenched by rain, sometimes covered by snow, and not entertaining many handsome thoughts about the projected incursion into Canada; if successes were to be had, it would surprise me in a most agreeable manner by that very reason that I don't expect any shining ones. Lake Champlain is too cold for producing the least bit of laurel, and if I am not starved I shall be as proud as if I had gained three battles.
Mr. Duer had given to me a rendezvous at a tavern, but nobody was to be found there. I fancy that he will be with Mr. Conway sooner than he has told me; they will perhaps conquer Canada before my arrival, and I expect to meet them at the governor's house in Quebec.
Could I believe, for one single instant, that this pompous commandof a northern armywill let your excellency forget a little us absent friends, then, I would send the project to the place it comes from. But I dare hope that you will remember me sometimes. I wish you, very heartily, the greatest public and private happiness and successes. It is a very melancholy idea for me that I cannot follow your fortunes as near your person as I could wish; but my heart will take, very sincerely, its part of everything which can happen to you, and I am already thinking of the agreeable moment when I may come down to assure your excellency of the most tender affection and highest respect. I have the honour to be, &c.
Albany, the 19th February, 1778.
Dear General,—Why am I so far from you and what business had the board of war to hurry me through the ice and snow without knowing what I should do, neither what they were doing themselves? You have thought, perhaps, that their project would be attended with some difficulty, that some means had been neglected, that I could not obtain all the success and the immensity of laurels which they had promised to me; but I defy your excellency to conceive any idea of what I have seen since I left the place where I was quiet and near my friends, to run myself through all the blunders of madness or treachery (God knows what). Let me begin the journal of my fine and glorious campaign.
According to Lord Stirling's advice, I went by Corich-ferry to Ringo's tavern, where Mr. Duer had given me a rendezvous; but there no Duer was to be found, and they did never hear from him.
From thence I proceeded by the State of New York, and had the pleasure of seeing the friends of America, as warm in their love for the commander-in-chief as his best friend could wish. I spoke to Governor Clinton, and was much satisfied with that gentleman. At length I met Albany, the 17th, though I was not expected before the 25th. General Conway had been here only three days before me, and I must confess I found him very active and looking as if he had good intentions; but we know a great deal upon that subject. His first word has been that the expedition is quite impossible. I was at first very diffident of this report, but have found that he was right. Such is, at least, the idea I can form of this ill-concerted operation within these two days.
General Schuyler, General Lincoln, General Arnold, had written, before my arrival, to General Conway, in the most expressive terms, that, in our present circumstances, there was no possibility to begin, now, an enterprise into Canada. Hay, deputy quarter-master-general; Cuyler, deputy commissary-general; Mearsin, deputy clothier-general, in what they call the northern department, are entirely of the same opinion. Colonel Hazen, who has been appointed to a place which interferes with the three others above mentioned, was the most desirous of going there. The reasons of such an order I think I may attribute to other motives. The same Hazen confesses we are not strong enough to think of the expedition in this moment. As to the troops, they are disgusted, and (if you except some Hazen's Canadians) reluctant, to the utmost degree, to begin a winter incursion in a so cold country. I have consulted everybody, and everybody answers me that it would be madness to undertake this operation.
I have been deceived by the board of war; they have, by the strongest expressions, promised to me one thousand, and (what is more to be depended upon) they have assured to me in writing,two thou-sand and five hundred combatants, at a low estimate. Now, Sir, I do not believe I can find,in all, twelve hundred fit for duty, and most part of those very men are naked, even for a summer's campaign. I was to find General Stark with a large body, and indeed General Gates had told to me,General Stark will have burnt the fleet before your arrival. Well, the first letter I receive in Albany is from General Stark, who wishes to knowwhat number of men, from whence, for what time, for what rendezvous, I desire him to raise. Colonel Biveld, who was to rise too, would have done somethinghad he received money. One asks, what encouragement his people will have, the other has no clothes; not one of them has received a dollar of what was due to them. I have applied to every body, I have begged at every door I could these two days, and I see that I could do something were the expedition to be begun in five weeks. But you know we have not an hour to lose, and indeed it is now rather too late, had we every thing in readiness.
There is a spirit of dissatisfaction prevailing among the soldiers, and even the officers, which is owing to their not being paid for some time since. This department is much indebted, and as near as I can ascertain, for so short a time, I have already discovered near eight hundred thousand dollars due to the continental troops, some militia, the quartermaster's department, &c. &c. &c. It was with four hundred thousand dollars, only the half of which is arrived to day, that I was to undertake the operation, and satisfy the men under my commands. I send to congress the account of those debts. Some clothes, by Colonel Hazen's activity, are arrived from Boston, but not enough by far, and the greatest part is cut off.
We have had intelligence from a deserter, who makes the enemy stronger than I thought. There is no such thingas straw on board the vessels to burn them. I have sent to congress a full account of the matter; I hope it will open their eyes. What they will resolve upon I do not know, but I think I must wait here for their answer. I have inclosed to the president, copies of the most important letters I had received. It would be tedious for your excellency, were I to undertake the minutest detail of everything; it will be sufficient to say that the want of men, clothes, money, and the want of time, deprives me of all hopes as to this excursion. If it may begin again in the month of June, by the east, I cannot venture to assure; but for the present moment such is the idea I conceive of the famous incursion, as far as I may be informed, in a so short time.
Your excellency may judge that I am very distressed by this disappointment. My being appointed to the command of the expedition is known through the continent, it will be soon known in Europe, as I have been desired, by members of congress, to write to my friends; my being at the head of an army, people will be in great expectations, and what shall I answer?
I am afraid it will reflect on my reputation, and I shall be laughed at. My fears upon that subject are so strong, that I would choose to become again only a volunteer, unless congress offers the means of mending this ugly business by some glorious operation; but I am very far from giving to them the least notice upon that matter. General Arnold seems very fond of a diversion against New York, and he is too sick to take the field before four or five months. I should be happy if something was proposed to me in that way, but I will never ask, nor even seem desirous, of anything directly from congress; for you, dear general, I know very well, that you will do everything to procure me the only thing I am ambitious of—glory.
I think your excellency will approve of my staying here till further orders, and of my taking the liberty of sending my despatches to congress by a very quick occasion, without going through the hands of my general; but I was desirous to acquaint them early of my disagreeable and ridiculous situation.
With the greatest affection and respect, I have the honour to be, &c.
The 23rd February, 1778.
DEAR GENERAL,—I have an opportunity of writing to your excellency which I will not miss by any means, even should I be afraid of becoming tedious and troublesome; but if they have sent me far from you, I don't know for what purpose, at least I must make some little use of my pen, to prevent all communication from being cut off between your excellency and myself. I have written lately to you my distressing, ridiculous, foolish, and, indeed, nameless situation. I am sent, with a great noise, at the head of an army for doing great things; the whole continent, France and Europe herself, and what is the worse, the British army, are in great expectations. How far they will be deceived, how far we shall be ridiculed, you may judge by the candid account you have got of the state of our affairs.
There are things, I dare say, in which I am deceived—a certain colonel is not here for nothing: one other gentleman became very popular before I went to this place; Arnold himself is very fond of him. Every part on which I turn to look I am sure a cloud is drawn before my eyes; however, there are points I cannot be deceived upon. The want of money, the dissatisfaction among the soldiers, the disinclination of every one (except the Canadians, who mean to stay at home) for this expedition, are as conspicuous as possible; however, I am sure I will become very ridiculous, and laughed at.My expeditionwill be as famous as thesecret expeditionagainst Rhode Island. I confess, my dear general, that I find myself of very quick feelings whenever my reputation and glory are concerned in anything. It is very hard indeed that such a part of my happiness, without which I cannot live, should depend upon schemes which I never knew of but when there was no time to put them into execution. I assure you, my most dear and respected friend, that I am more unhappy than I ever was.
My desire of doing something was such, that I have thought of doing it by surprise with a detachment, but it seems to me rash and quite impossible. I should be very happy if you were here to give me some advice; but I have nobody to consult with. They have sent to me more than twenty French officers; I do not know what to do with them; I beg you will acquaint me the line of conduct you advise me to follow on every point. I am at a loss how to act, and indeed I do not know what I am here for myself. However, as being the eldest officer, (after General Arnold has desired me to take the command,) I think it is my duty to mind the business of this part of America as well as I can. General Gates holds yet the title and power of commander-in-chief of the Northern department; but, as two hundred thousand dollars are arrived, I have taken upon myself to pay the most necessary part of the debts we are involved in. I am about sending provisions to Fort Schuyller: I will go to see the fort. I will try to get some clothes for the troops, to buy some articles for the next campaign. I have directed some money to be borrowed upon my credit to satisfy the troops, who are much discontented. In all, I endeavour to do for the best, though I have no particular authority or instructions; and I will come as near as I can to General Gates's intentions, but I want much to get an answer to my letters.
I fancy (between us) that the actual scheme is to have me out of this part of the continent, and General Conway in chief, under the immediate direction of General Gates. How they will bring it up I do not know, but you may be sure something of that kind will appear. You are nearer than myself, and every honest man in congress is your friend; therefore you may foresee and prevent, if possible, the evil a hundred times better than I can: I would only give that idea to your excellency.
After having written in Europe (by the desire of the members of congress) so many fine things about my commanding an army, I shall be ashamed if nothing can be done by me in that way. I am told General Putnam is recalled; but your excellency knows better than I do what would be convenient, therefore I don't want to mind these things myself.
Will you be so good as to present my respects to your lady. With the most tender affection and highest respect, I have the honour to be,