ruin, in which theirs also must ultimately be involved."[420]
With such men, Washington a.s.serted, "party disputes and personal quarrels are the great business of the day, whilst the momentous concerns of an empire [America][421] ... are but secondary considerations." Therefore, writes Washington, in angry exasperation, "in the present situation of things, I cannot help asking--Where is Mason--Wythe--Jefferson?"[422]
"Where is Jefferson?" wrote Washington in America"s darkest hour, when the army was hardly more than an array of ragged and shoeless skeletons, and when Congress was so weak in numbers and ability that it had become a thing of contempt. Is it not probable that the same question was asked by the shivering soldiers and officers of the Continental army, as they sat about the smoking fires of their noisome huts sinking their chattering teeth into their "Fire Cake" and swallowing their brackish water? If Washington would so write, is it not likely that the men would so talk? For was not Jefferson the penman who had inscribed the Declaration of Independence, for which they were fighting, suffering, dying?
Among the Virginians especially there must have been grave questionings.
Just as to John Marshall"s army experience the roots of the greatest of his const.i.tutional opinions may clearly be traced, so the beginnings of his personal estimate of Thomas Jefferson may be as plainly found in their relative situations and conduct during the same period.
John Marshall was only a few days beyond his twentieth year when, with his Culpeper Minute Men, he fought the British at Great Bridge. Thomas Jefferson at that time was thirty-two years old; but the prospect of battle on Virginia"s soil did not attract him. At Valley Forge, John Marshall had just entered on his twenty-third year, and Thomas Jefferson, thirty-five years old, was neither in the army nor in Congress. Marshall had no fortune; Jefferson was rich.[423]
So, therefore, when as reserved a man as Washington had finally and with great effort trained himself to be, asked in writing, "Where is Jefferson?" is it not a reasonable inference that the Virginia officers in the familiar talk of comrades, spoke of Jefferson in terms less mild?
And, indeed, where was Thomas Jefferson? After serving in Congress, he refused point-blank to serve there again and resigned the seat to which he had been reelected. "The situation of my domestic affairs renders it indispensably necessary that I should solicit the subst.i.tution of some other person," was the only excuse Jefferson then gave.[424] He wanted to go to the State Legislature instead, and to the State Legislature he went. His "domestic affairs" did not prevent that. In his Autobiography, written forty-four years afterward (1821), Jefferson declares that he resigned from Congress and went to the State Legislature because "our [State] legislation under the regal government had many very vicious points which urgently required reformation and I thought I could be of more use in forwarding that work."[425]
So while the British revels were going on in Philadelphia and the horrors of Valley Forge appeared to be bringing an everlasting night upon American liberty, and when the desperation of the patriot cause wrung from the exasperated Washington his appeal that Virginia"s ablest men should strengthen the feeble and tottering Congress, Jefferson was in the State Legislature. But he was not there merely enjoying office and exclusively engaged in party politics as Washington more than intimates. He was starting such vital reforms as the abolition of entails, the revision of the criminal code, the establishment of a free school system, the laying of the legal foundations of religious freedom.[426]
In short, Jefferson was sowing the seeds of liberalism in Virginia. But it is only human nature that b.r.e.a.s.t.s bearing the storm of war should not have thrilled in admiration of this civil husbandry. It was but natural that the benumbed men at Valley Forge should think the season early for the planting of State reforms, however needful, when the very ground of American independence was cold and still freezing with patriot misfortune and British success.
Virginia"s Legislature might pa.s.s all the so-called laws it liked; the triumph of the British arms would wipe every one of them from the statute books. How futile, until America was free, must all this bill-drafting and reforming have appeared to the hard-driven men on the Schuylkill"s Arctic hills! "Here are we," we can hear them say, "in worse case than most armies have been in the whole history of the world; here are we at Valley Forge offering our lives, wrecking our health, losing the little store we have saved up, and doing it gladly for the common American cause; and there, in safe and comfortable Williamsburg or at sumptuous Monticello, is the man who wrote our Declaration of Independence, never venturing within the sound of cannon or smell of powder and even refusing to go to Congress."
The world knows now that Jefferson was not to be blamed. He was not a man of arms, dreaded the duties of a soldier, had no stomach for physical combat.[427] He was a philosopher, not a warrior. He loved to write theories into laws that correct civil abuses by wholesale, and to promote the common good by sweeping statutes. Also, he was a born politician, skillful and adroit in party management above any man in our history.[428]
But as a man of action in rough weather, as an executive in stern times, he himself admitted his deficiency.[429] So we know to-day and better understand this great reformer, whose devotion to human rights has made men tolerant of his grave personal shortcomings. Nothing of this, however, could have occurred to the starving, shivering patriot soldiers in their awful plight at Valley Forge. Winning the war was their only thought, as always is the soldier"s way.
Early in April, 1778, when, but for the victory at Saratoga, the Revolution seemed well-nigh hopeless to all but the stoutest hearts, an old and valued English friend begged Washington to give up the apparently doomed American cause. The Reverend Andrew Burnaby appealed to him for American and British reunion. "Must the parent and the child be forever at variance? And can either of them be happy, independent of the other?" The interests of the two countries are the same; "united they will const.i.tute the fairest and happiest state in the world; divided they will be quite the reverse. It is not even possible that America should be happy, unconnected with Great Britain." In case America should win, the States will fall asunder from civil discord. The French, "that false and treacherous people," will desert the Americans.
Great Britain and America have "the same interest, the same lineage, the same language, the same liberty, the same religion, connecting them."
Everybody in England wants reunion; even the Government is anxious to "rectify ... errors and misunderstandings." It is time to "heal the wounds on both sides." Washington can achieve this "divine purpose" and "thereby acquire more glory and confer more real and lasting service, both to your own country and to mankind in general than ... ever yet happened to the lot of any one man."[430]
This subtle plea, designed to prepare the way for the British "Commission of Conciliation," neither flattered nor tempted Washington.
It insulted him. He acted more vigorously than ever; and, soon afterward, his answer was delivered with cannon and bayonet on the field of Monmouth.[431]
When the winter had pa.s.sed, Washington once more appealed to Congress to cease its bickering and indecision. That body was jealous of the army, he declared, whereas, said he, "We should all be considered, Congress and Army, as one people, embarked in one cause, in one interest; acting on the same principle, and to the same end"--a philosophy which a young Virginia officer was then absorbing and continued to absorb, until it became the ruling force in his life.
"No history extant," continues Washington, "can furnish an instance of an army"s suffering such uncommon hardships ... and bearing them with the same patience and fort.i.tude. To see men without clothes to cover their nakedness, without blankets to lie on, without shoes, by which their marches might be traced by the blood from their feet, and almost as often without provisions as with them, marching through the frost and snow, and at Christmas taking up their winter quarters within a day"s march of the enemy, without a house or hut to cover them, "till they could be built, and submitting to it without a murmur, is proof of patience and obedience which, in my opinion can scarce be paralleled."[432]
Further shaming Congress into action, Washington says that "with us ...
the officer ... must break in upon his private fortune for present support, without a prospect of future relief"; while, with the British, company commands "are esteemed so honorable and so valuable that they have sold of late from fifteen to twenty-two hundred pounds sterling and ... four thousand guineas have been given for a troop of dragoons."[433]
Finally came the spring of 1778. The spirits of the men rose with the budding of the trees. Games and sport alternated with drill and policing of the camp. The officers made matches for quoits, running, and jumping.
Captain-Lieutenant Marshall was the best athlete in his regiment. He could vault over a pole "laid on the heads of two men as high as himself." A supply from home had reached him at last, it appears, and in it were socks. So sometimes Marshall ran races in his stocking feet. In knitting this foot apparel, his mother had made the heels of white yarn, which showed as he ran. Thus came his soldier nickname of "Silver Heels."[434]
As spring advanced, the troops recovered their strength and, finally, were ready and eager again to meet the enemy. Washington had persuaded General Greene to accept the vital office of Quartermaster-General; and food, clothing, and munitions had somewhat relieved the situation.[435]
Baron von Steuben had wrought wonders in the drill and discipline of the men and in the officers" knowledge of their technical duties.[436] "I should do injustice if I were to be longer silent with regard to the merits of the Baron de [von] Steuben" Washington told Congress, in hearty appreciation of the Prussian general"s services.[437]
Another event of immense importance cheered the patriot forces and raised patriot hopes throughout America. The surrender of Burgoyne had encouraged the French statesmen to attempt the injury of England by helping the revolting colonies. On May 6, 1778, the treaty of alliance with Louis XVI was laid before Congress.[438] The miseries of the past winter were forgotten by the army at Valley Forge in the joy over the French Monarch"s open championship of the American cause and his attack upon the British.[439] For it meant trained troops, ships of war, munitions, and money. It meant more--it signified, in the end, war by France upon England.
The hills of Valley Forge were vocal with huzzas and the roar of cannon.
Songs filled the air. The army paraded. Sermons were preached. The rebound went to heights of enthusiasm equaling the former depths of despair.[440] Marshall, we may be sure, joined with his characteristic zest in the patriots" revel of happiness. Washington alone had misgivings. He feared that, because of the French alliance, Congress and the States would conclude that "we have nothing more to do" and so "relapse into a state of supineness and perfect security."[441]
Precisely this occurred.
Soon, however, other inspiriting tidings came--the British, it was said, were about to quit Philadelphia. The gayety in that city had continued throughout the winter, and just before the evacuation, reached its climax in a festival of almost unbelievable opulence and splendor.
Processions of flower-decked boats, choruses, spectacles, and parades crowded the day; dancing and music came with sunset, and at midnight, lighted by hundreds of wax candles, twelve hundred people sat down to a dinner of Oriental luxury served by negroes clad in the rich costumes of the East "with silver collars and bracelets."[442]
When, on June 18, the Royal forces abandoned the city, the Americans were quick in pursuit. On June 28, a day of blistering heat, the battle of Monmouth was fought. That scorching Sunday "was long remembered all over the United States as the most sultry day which had ever been endured since mankind learned to read the thermometer."[443]
It must have been very hot indeed, for Marshall himself speaks of "the intense heat";[444] and he disliked extreme terms. Marshall was one of the advance guard[445] under Wayne, with Lee in command of the division.
In a previous council of war most of the higher officers were decidedly against risking the action; but Washington overruled them and ordered Lee to attack the British force "the moment it should move from its ground."[446]
The Commander-in-Chief, with the main body of American troops, was to come to Lee"s support. It is unnecessary to go over the details of Lee"s unhappy blunder, his retreat, Washington"s Berserker rage and stinging rebuke on the battlefield in sight and hearing of officer and private, the turning of the rout into attack, and attack into victory by the sheer masterfulness of the mighty Virginian. From ten o"clock until nightfall the conflict raged, the Americans generally successful.
The overpowering sun made the action all but insufferable. Many died from the effects of the furnace-like heat. The fighting was heavy and often hand to hand. Throughout the day Washington was the very soul of battle. His wrath at Lee"s retreat unleashed the lion in him. He rode among the troops inspiring, calming, strengthening, steadying. Perhaps at no time in his life, except at Braddock"s defeat, was his peculiar combination of cool-headed generalship and hot-blooded love of combat so manifest in a personal way as on this blazing June day at Monmouth.
"Never," testifies Lafayette, who commanded part of the advance and fought through the whole battle, "was General Washington greater in war than in this action. His presence stopped the retreat. His dispositions fixed the victory. His fine appearance on horseback, his calm courage, roused by the animation produced by the vexation of the morning, gave him the air best calculated to excite enthusiasm."[447]
When Washington was preparing the final stroke, darkness fell. The exhausted Americans, their clothing drenched with sweat, slept on their arms upon the field of battle, their General-in-Chief himself lying on the ground among the living, the wounded, and the dead. Somewhere on that hard-fought ground, Captain-Lieutenant John Marshall stretched himself by his comrades. Washington was determined to press the attack at break of day. But at midnight the British stole away so silently that the Americans did not hear a sound from their retreat.[448] The Americans lost eight officers and sixty-one privates killed, one hundred and sixty wounded, and one hundred and thirty missing. The British left more than two hundred and fifty dead upon the field.[449]
Upon Charles Lee most accounts of the battle of Monmouth have placed the brand of infamy. But John Marshall did not condemn Lee utterly. There were, it appears, two sides of the business--the difficulty of the ground, the mistake made by Scott, a reinforcement of the British rear, and other incidents.[450] These appealed even to Washington when the calm of judgment returned to him after the battle was fought and his blazing wrath had cooled; and had Lee not sent insulting letters to the Commander-in-Chief, it is probable that no further action would have been taken.[451]
Marshall had been in the fight from first to last; he had retreated unwillingly with the other five thousand men whom Lee commanded; he was a fighting man, always eager for the shock of arms; he cherished a devotion to Washington which was the ruling attachment of his life--nevertheless, Marshall felt that more was made of Lee"s misconduct than the original offense deserved. Writing as the chosen biographer of Washington, Marshall gives both sides of this controversy.[452]
This incident throws light upon Marshall"s temperament. Other historians in their eulogy of Washington, have lashed the memory of Lee naked through the streets of public scorn. Marshall refuses to join the chorus of denunciation. Instead, he states the whole case with fairness.[453]
Three days after Monmouth, he was promoted to a full captaincy;[454]
and, as we have seen, he had been made Deputy Judge Advocate at Valley Forge. Holding these two offices, Marshall continued his military service.
The alliance with the French King, followed by the American success at Monmouth, lulled the patriots into an unwarranted feeling of security.
Everybody seemed to think the war was over. Congress became more lethargic than ever, the States more torpid and indifferent. The British had seized the two points commanding King"s Ferry on the North River, thus cutting the communication between the small American forces on opposite sides of the Hudson.[455] To restore this severed connection was important; and it was essential to arouse once more the declining interest of the people. Washington resolved to take Stony Point, the then well-nigh impregnable position dominating King"s Ferry from the New Jersey side.
A body of light infantry was carefully selected from all ranks. It was the flower of Washington"s troops in health, stability, courage, and discipline. Upon this "_elite_ of the army," says Dawson, "the safety of the Highlands and, indirectly, that of the cause of America, were dependent."[456] This corps of picked soldiers was intended for quick and desperate enterprises of extra hazard. John Marshall was one of those selected.[457] Their first notable task was to take Stony Point by a.s.sault. Anthony Wayne was placed in command. "I have much at heart,"
Washington told Wayne, in the capture of this position, "the importance of which ... is too obvious to need explanation."[458]
Yet even to these men on missions of such moment, supplies came tardily and in scant quant.i.ties. Wayne"s "men were almost naked."[459]
Finally, on June 15, 1779, the time came for the storming of the fort.
It was washed on three sides by the waters of the Hudson and a marsh separated it from the solid land on the west. Heavy guns were on the great hill of rock; lighter batteries were placed on its slope; two rows of abatis were farther down; and the British ships in the river commanded almost every point of attack.[460]
A party of Wayne"s men was detailed to remove obstructions, capture the sentries, and, in general, prepare the way for the a.s.sault by the first detachment of the Light Infantry, which was to advance with unloaded muskets, depending exclusively on the bayonet.[461] The fort was taken by those a.s.signed to make the initial attempt, Colonel Fleury being the first to enter the stronghold. Below at the edge of the marsh waited the major part of Wayne"s little force, among whom was the future Chief Justice of the United States.
If the state of Wayne"s nerves is an indication, we know how the young Virginia captain felt, there in the midnight, holding himself in readiness for the order to advance. For early in the evening Wayne thus wrote to his brother-in-law: "This will not reach your eye until the Writer is no mor^e--the Enclosed papers ... [will] enable [you] to defend the Character and Support the Honor of the man who ... fell in defense of his Country.... Attend to the Education of my Little _Son & Daughter_--I fear that their tender Mother will not Survive this Stroke."[462] But the British were overcome more easily than anybody had thought possible,[463] and, though wounded, Wayne survived to give more displays of his genuine heroism, while Providence spared John Marshall for a no less gallant and immeasurably greater part in the making of the American Nation.[464]
But the brilliant exploit went for nothing. The Americans failed to take Verplanck"s Point on the eastern bank of the river and the patriot forces were still separated. Unable to spare enough men to garrison Stony Point permanently and since the Ferry remained under the British guns, Washington moved his army to the Highlands. The British at once reoccupied the abandoned fort which Wayne"s men had just captured.
A detail from the Light Infantry was placed under Major Henry Lee of Virginia, who was instructed to watch the main forces of the enemy.
Among Lee"s flying detachment was Captain John Marshall. For three weeks this scouting expedition kept moving among the ravines, hills, and marshes, always in close touch with the British. "At Powles Hook, a point of land on the west side of the Hudson, immediately opposite the town of New York, penetrating deep into the river,"[465] the enemy had erected works and garrisoned them with several hundred men. The British had made the Hook an island by digging a deep ditch through which the waters of the river flowed; and otherwise had rendered their position secure.
The daring Lee resolved to surprise and capture the defending force, and Washington, making sure of lines of retreat, approved the adventure. All night of August 18, 1779, Lee"s men marched stealthily among the steep hills, pa.s.sed the main body of the British army who were sleeping soundly; and at three o"clock in the morning crossed the ditch, entered the works, and carried away one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners, losing in the swift, silent effort only two killed and three wounded.[466] This audacious feat fired the spirits of the patriot forces and covered the British with humiliation and chagrin.
Here, except for a small incident in Arnold"s invasion of Virginia, John Marshall"s active partic.i.p.ation in actual warfare ended. He was sent home[467] because of the expiration of the term of enlistments of the regiments in which he had commanded and the excess of officers which this created.[468] The Revolution dragged along; misfortune and discouragement continued to beat upon the granite Washington. The support of Louis XVI was a staff upon which, substantial as it was, the people of the States leaned too heavily. Their exertions relaxed, as we have seen; Jefferson, patriot and reformer, but not efficient as an executive, was Governor of Virginia; and John Marshall waited in vain for the new command which never appeared.