Let us now see the effect of the war so far, both in the mother-country and America. The surrender of Burgoyne’s army caused a great sensation in England, and efforts were immediately made in several of the large Scotch and English towns to send out troops to supply the loss; in London also, where the progress of the war had raised an anti-American spirit, £20,000 was raised by subscription for that purpose. On the other hand, subscriptions were also raised to relieve the American prisoners, who, from the cupidity and heartlessness of those in whose hands they were placed, were suffering from the want of the very necessaries of life.

When parliament met in January of this year, the American war was the first and most important topic of discussion, and Burke and the Duke of Richmond, Lord North, and the whole of the Rockingham party, entered more or less into the advocacy of the colonies. As to the war itself, the loss of life it had occasioned, the enormous expenses which it had entailed, and the hopelessness of its results, formed a strong argument in the mouths of all reasonable men. Still the war-party was strong, and Burgoyne could neither obtain an audience from the king nor get a hearing in parliament. To increase the inveteracy of feeling also, congress appeared ready to evade the terms of the convention of Saratoga. On some plea of suspicion regarding the intentions of the British officers who objected to the troops embarking at Boston, and had ordered the transports for their conveyance to Rhode Island instead, they were detained in the country as prisoners of war.

Nevertheless, plans of conciliation were proposed, for which purpose two bills were introduced into the house; the one renouncing all intention of levying taxes in America—conceding, in effect, the whole subject of dispute; the other authorising the appointment of three commissioners, who in conjunction with the naval and military commanders, should be empowered to treat for the re-establishment of the royal authority. “Great Britain,” in fact, as the American historian justly says, “had reason to be weary of a war which had cost her already more than 20,000 men and five millions sterling in expenditure. Five hundred and fifty British vessels, besides those which had been recaptured, had been taken by the American cruisers. These cruisers so infested even the British seas, that convoys had become necessary from one British port to another. To this must be added the loss of the American trade, a large mass of American debts held in suspense by the war, the exile of the American loyalists, and the confiscation of their property. The British West Indies suffered for want of their accustomed supplies of provisions and timber from the North American colonies; and the British merchant complained that the slave-trade was reduced by the war to one-fifth of its former amount. And to all these was now added the fear of French intervention and French war.”

An address also was moved to his majesty, which spoke freely the sentiments of this party, expressing “strong indignation at the conduct of his ministers, who had brought about the present unhappy state of his dominions, who had abused his confidence, and by their unfortunate counsels dismembered his empire, disgraced his arms, and weakened his naval power; whilst, by delaying to reconcile the difference which they had excited amongst his people, they had taken no means of counteracting a fatal alliance with the ancient rival of Great Britain.”

It was in the great debate which followed on this plain-speaking address that Earl Chatham, when protesting vehemently against any measures which might tend to the dismemberment of the empire, was seized with that fainting-fit in the midst of the Lords which was the prelude of his death eleven days afterwards.

In vain was the eloquence of the Duke of Richmond and other members of the opposition—the motion for the address was lost; nevertheless, so earnest was the feeling on the subject, that a noble protest, signed by twenty peers, was entered; “because,” said they, “we think that the rejection of the address at this time may appear to indicate in this house a desire of continuing that plan of ignorance, concealment, deceit and delusion, by which the sovereign and his people have already been brought into so many and so great calamities; and because we hold it absolutely necessary that both sovereign and people should be undeceived, and that they should distinctly and authentically be made acquainted with the state of their affairs, which is faithfully represented in this proposed address.”

The Americans had still greater reason even than the British to deplore the war, from which their sufferings were so great in every way. The Newfoundland fisheries and the trade to the West Indies, both so vitally important to the New England colonies, were at an end. Nine hundred vessels had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The coasting trade had been destroyed, and Boston and the other New England seaports, cut off from their usual supplies, experienced great scarcity of food, enhanced by internal embargoes which now began to be laid on by the different states. Add to which, great public debts rapidly accumulating, and a constantly depreciating currency. The war had been carried on at great expense; the frequent draughts of militia, besides the interruption to agriculture, had proved a most costly and wasteful expedient. Besides all this, there had been great want of system and accountability in every department; and peculation, a customary incident of all wars, had not failed to improve so convenient an opportunity. Already the liabilities contracted by congress amounted to upwards of eight millions sterling; nor indeed was this the whole amount; the private debt of Massachusetts alone amounted to about one million, besides her share of the general liabilities. The loss of life too, had been enormous; vast quantities had died of sickness, of suffering from insufficiency of food and needful comforts and clothing. A sadder or more disastrous war could hardly have been conceived.

Nevertheless, spite of all these unlooked-for calamities and this unimagined expenditure, the war-spirit at the commencement of 1778 was far more extensively spread than had ever before been the case. The very calamities of the war, which had now entered, as it were, into every individual home, had estranged the national heart from the mother-country. Any conciliation, any termination of the struggle, short of entire separation from England, would not be listened to. Besides, when the Americans looked at the position of affairs after a three years’ war, spite of all their losses and sufferings, they saw no cause for despair—as indeed, there was none. The British after all, retained possession but of Long Island and Staten Island, of the insular cities of Newport in Rhode Island and New York, and of Philadelphia on the mainland. As yet they had no interior hold on the country, and though a strong loyalist party existed in various states, and loyalist troops had been raised in Pennsylvania, New York and among the Catholics of Maryland, still the whole number did not amount to above 3,600 men, and their influence tended rather to increase the bitterness of hatred against Britain, who had thus caused civil war in the land, than in reality to weaken or endanger their cause.

While the British parliament was debating the subject of conciliation, the colonies were preparing to carry on the war with renewed vigour. The cabal against Washington had ended in the disgrace of its originators, and that great man now stood higher than he had hitherto done in the regard and confidence of the nation. Advantageous changes were made in all the war departments, in accordance with Washington’s wishes, and to the displacement of his enemies. Nathaniel Greene, a favourite officer of Washington’s, was appointed quarter-master-general; Colonel Jeremiah Wadsworth accepted the office of commissary-general, in the place of Mifflin, one of the cabal; while General Conway, its head, and a man of weak character, was displaced as army inspector by Baron Steuben, a Prussian officer, who had lately offered his services to congress, and who soon introduced a complete system of exercise and tactics into the American army. By the new organisation the colonial force would have amounted to 60,000 men, but not being fully carried out, to about only half that number; no troops were demanded from Georgia and South Carolina, in consequence of their great slave population. Two independent corps were also raised; the one under Pulaski, the Pole; the other under Armand, a French officer; a third entirely composed of cavalry, was raised by Henry Lee, of Virginia, already distinguished in the war. The fortifications of the Highlands were vigorously prosecuted under the direction of Kosciusko.

Again large issues of paper money were made, which, causing still further depreciation, led to the greatest perplexity and embarrassment. The reduced pay of the officers, insufficient for their simplest needs, must have compelled many able and long-tried officers to throw up their commissions, had not Washington induced congress to promise half-pay for seven years to all officers who served to the end of the war, and a gratuity to the common soldiers.

About the middle of April, at the very moment when all was in active operation to carry on the war with renewed vigour, the first tidings of the conciliatory bills reached New York, and ex-governor Tryon and the Tory party used their utmost endeavours to diffuse them throughout the colonies. To counteract the influence of these measures, congress ordered them to be immediately published in every newspaper of the States, accompanied by the printed resolutions of their body on the subject. “There was a time,” said Governor Turnbull, “when this step from our acknowledged parent would have been accepted with joy and gratitude, but that time is irrevocably past. No peace can be concluded now with Great Britain on any other terms than the most absolute, perfect independence. Nevertheless,” concluded he, “the union by a lasting and honourable peace is the ardent wish of every American. The British nation will then find us as affectionate and valuable friends as we now are determined and fatal enemies, and will derive from that friendship more solid and real advantage than the most sanguine can expect from conquest.”

On the 22nd of April, congress officially declared, that any man or body of men, who should presume to make any separate or partial agreement with the commission under the crown of Great Britain, should be considered as enemies of the United States; that the United States would enter into no treaty with Great Britain until her fleets and armies were withdrawn, or the independence of America acknowledged.

Scarcely were these resolutions published, than, as if to give them value with the public, Simon Deane arrived at Yorktown, where congress was then sitting, in a royal frigate from Paris bringing with him for ratification two treaties of alliance and commerce between France and the United States; the last of which was signed the 30th of January, and the former on the 6th of February. On the 4th of May, they were ratified by congress, and the utmost joy and exultation prevailed throughout the United States. There was an end now to the hatred of France in America; her independence was acknowledged by that nation, and congress extolled “the extraordinary equity, generosity and unparalleled honour of the French monarch.”

By the treaty of alliance it was stipulated that in case of war occurring between France and England, the two parties should aid each other with counsel and with arms, and that neither should conclude truce nor peace with Great Britain without consent of the other. This treaty being considered equivalent to a declaration of war between France and Great Britain, the English ambassador was recalled from Paris, and active preparations for war were made by both nations.

On May 8th, Sir William Howe having at his own request resigned the command of the American army, Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Philadelphia to take his place, and early in June the three commissioners appointed under Lord North’s Conciliatory Bill—the Earl of Carlisle, William Eden, brother of the late governor of Maryland, afterwards Lord Auckland, and Governor Johnson—arrived at the same city a few days before the British troops evacuated. The day after their arrival, a passport being refused by Washington to Dr. Ferguson, the secretary of the commission, a letter was despatched by them, together with the late acts of parliament and other papers, directed to congress. A suspension of hostilities was proposed, and as the basis of a final adjustment of the contest, an extension of the privileges of trade hitherto allowed to the colonies was promised; no military force was to be kept up in any colony without the consent of its assembly; the continental bills of credit were to be taken up and ultimately discharged; the colonies were to be represented in parliament, and the British government in the colonial assemblies;—almost everything was to be conceded excepting the acknowledgment of independence.

These concessions came too late. Two years before they would have been accepted with gratitude. They were now rejected; it could not have been otherwise. Congress gave a very summary reply in the words of the resolution already stated, and firmly refused to treat in any way with Great Britain, unless she withdrew her troops or acknowledged the independence of the States. The commissioners returned a long and argumentative reply, to which congress made no answer.

In the meantime a French fleet, under the command of Count D’Estaing, being despatched to America with the design of blockading the British fleet in the Delaware, and Philadelphia being no longer safe quarters for the British army, active preparations were made for its evacuation. On the 18th of June, accordingly, Sir Henry Clinton marched out of Philadelphia with about 12,000 men, while the baggage and a great amount of stores and a considerable number of non-combatants were sent to New York by water, whither also the army was bound by land. Washington, already aware of this intended evacuation, broke up his camp at Valley Forge, and while with his main army, the number of which considerably exceeded that of the British, he cautiously followed the enemy, he despatched General Maxwell with a brigade to co-operate with the New Jersey militia in harassing them, and throwing every possible impediment in their way, so that time might be given him to bring up his full force and to profit by any opportunity which offered. The wish of the commander-in-chief was to bring on a general engagement, but in this wish he was overruled by a council of officers.

The progress of the British was very slow, and many were the difficulties which they encountered; the weather was rainy and the heat intense, and they were encumbered with so enormous a quantity of baggage, that their line of march through the narrow roads of the country occupied twelve miles. The cause of this quantity of baggage, as far as provisions were concerned, was a matter of prudence with General Clinton, who knew that no subsistence was to be obtained for his troops in the hostile country through which they had to march. On the 25th of June the two armies were so near each other, that Washington despatched General Lee, now but recently exchanged, with two brigades to press upon Clinton’s left, and prevent him from occupying the strong position of the Nevisink Hills, near Middletown, which he was then approaching. On the 28th, Clinton encamped at Monmouth, now Freehold, twelve miles from Middletown, and Lee, who was six miles in advance of Washington, received orders from his commander to attack the enemy, himself promising to bring up the main army to support it. Washington, accordingly advancing for this purpose, was astonished to meet Lee retreating; according to his own account, having merely ordered his men to retreat for the purpose of gaining a more favourable position. Washington, however, incensed at perceiving what appeared to him flight rather than any other movement, severely reprimanded the general, and ordered the line of battle to be immediately formed. This was done; the battle was renewed till the darkness of night closed the combat. The Americans lay on their arms, fully determined to attack the British in the morning; but availing themselves of the cover of night, the British retired with profound silence to the high grounds of Nevisink, which it had been Washington’s object to prevent them gaining, and where they were now safe from attack. The number of killed and wounded on both sides has been very differently stated; but in both armies many died without a single wound, from fatigue and the excessive heat of the weather, which on that day was unusually extreme; fifty-nine English soldiers are said to have died from this cause. Several officers of great ability were killed also on both sides.

As regarded General Lee, the day after the battle he wrote a very angry letter to Washington, on the subject of the reprimand which he had received, and again, in answer to Washington’s reply, wrote a second of a similar character. The consequence was the arrest of Lee, and his trial by court-martial, on the charges of disobedience to orders, misbehaviour before the enemy, and disrespect to the commander-in-chief. Of a portion of these charges he was found guilty, and suspended from command for twelve months. He, however, never re-entered the American army, and died at Philadelphia shortly before the conclusion of the war.

Immediately after the battle of Freehold, Clinton proceeded from his position on Nevisink Hills to Sandy Hook, where, fortunately for him, the fleet of Lord Howe, which had been detained in the Delaware by contrary winds, had arrived only the evening before. By these means he was enabled to reach New York in safety, totally unconscious of a new danger from which he was so opportunely removed.

A new enemy was now approaching the scene of action. Two days after the British fleet had sailed, news arrived that Count D’Estaing was off the Delaware, with a French fleet of twelve ships of the line and four frigates, with 11,000 French troops on board. Had he been only eight-and-forty hours earlier he might have met the British transports, heavily laden as they were, totally unconscious of this new danger, and convoyed only by two ships of the line, and their destruction would have been inevitable; while the English army, unable to proceed to New York, would have been enclosed by the Americans on the one hand, and on the other, cut off from supplies by the French fleet, and a second surrender must have been the consequence. Two days made all the difference.

The arrival of the French fleet was, however, a cause of great exultation to the Americans. With it also came out M. Gerard, late secretary to the king’s council, as ambassador to the United States, and soon after Benjamin Franklin, still in France, was appointed to the same office in that country.

D’Estaing, having failed to surprise the British fleet in the Delaware, proceeded without loss of time to Sandy Hook, and came to anchor off New York Harbour, on July 11th. A joint attack on the British by land and sea was now decided upon, and for this purpose Washington crossed the Hudson with his army, and encamped at White Plains. The utmost alarm prevailed among the British and the loyalists of New York. The British fleet was not in the best condition for this formidable encounter. Most of the ships of the line, having been long on service, were out of condition and badly manned; they had, however, the advantage of position, being within the harbour which is formed by Sandy Hook, and the entrance to which is covered by a bar. The French fleet was in excellent condition, and among its ships of the line were several of great force and weight of gun. These heavy ships were the salvation of the British fleet, and the ruin of the French enterprise. The New York pilots would not venture to take them across the bar, and after having lain outside the harbour for about eleven days, the British fleet locked up within it and looking out anxiously every hour for the arrival of an expected squadron from England, under Admiral Byron, D’Estaing was seen to sail away with a favourable wind, and in a few hours was out of sight. The expected British reinforcements arrived very shortly after D’Estaing was gone.

This projected attack of the British fleet being necessarily abandoned, Washington recommended D’Estaing to proceed against Newport in Rhode Island, which was still held by the British, under General Pigot, with 6,000 men. For the purpose of co-operation in this expedition, which Washington had anticipated, General Sullivan had been already sent with a detachment to Providence, where he was joined by 5,000 militia of Massachusetts and Connecticut, and shortly after by two brigades under Generals Greene and La Fayette. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed everywhere, and perfect success was calculated upon. The plan of the expedition was simple. D’Estaing was to enter the harbour of Newport, while the army advanced from the other side, and thus place the British once more between two fires.

The French fleet already occupied Narrangansett Bay, and was in communication with the American army; nay, even having advanced into Newport harbour, had compelled the British to burn or sink six of their frigates, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.

On the 10th of August, the American army, 10,000 strong, landed on the north end of Rhode Island proper, on which Newport stands, expecting to be joined by 4,000 French troops from the fleet, as had been arranged with D’Estaing, when all unexpectedly the British fleet under Lord Howe appeared in sight. This fleet, as soon as released from its blockade in New York harbour and strengthened by its reinforcements, set sail for the relief of Newport, where it arrived at this critical moment. No sooner was this perceived by the French admiral, who knew that his force was superior to that of the British, than he sailed out to give them battle, carrying the troops with him. Astonished and disappointed by this unexpected movement, the American army continued their march towards Newport and encamped within two miles of the enemy’s works. Meanwhile, the two admirals striving each to secure the weather-gage, two days were spent in this contest of seamanship, when a violent storm arose and separated the two fleets at the very moment when about to engage. For two days more the tempest raged fearfully, and scattered and damaged the ships greatly. Five days later the French admiral reappeared off Newport with two of his ships, one of which was his own, dismasted, and others seriously injured. The British squadron had also suffered equally. On the 22nd of August, two days later, D’Estaing, contrary to the earnest entreaties of the American generals, insisted on giving up the attempt against Newport, and sailed away to Boston to refit.

The American army in Rhode Island and the people of the northern colonies in general were indignant at this desertion, and the old hatred of the French was in such danger of reviving, and indeed did express itself by a riot in Boston, that it required all Washington’s influence to allay it; while congress, in order to pacify D’Estaing, who was becoming angry on his part, passed a resolution approving of his conduct. In the meantime, General Sullivan, now placed in the most difficult circumstances in Rhode Island, and deserted by great numbers of his own troops, commenced a retreat. On the 29th of August, having already sent off his artillery and baggage, he put his troops in motion, and though vigorously pursued and attacked on every possible quarter by the British forces, he had yet taken all his measures so well, that he arrived without any considerable loss at his old post on the north of the island, and the next day passed his army over to the mainland in safety. Nor was his fortunate retreat made too soon, as Sir Henry Clinton arrived from New York with a strong force immediately afterwards.

The same day that Sullivan abandoned Rhode Island, Lord Howe entered the Bay of Boston in pursuit of D’Estaing, whom he however found so securely defended by the batteries and other measures of defence taken both by the Americans and the French, that any attack upon him was impossible.

Late in the autumn, the English fleet, which had been sent out under Admiral Byron to counteract D’Estaing, arrived at New York, having encountered and been detained by severe tempests. Byron sailed to Boston, as Howe had done before, to look after and attack the French admiral; but again a violent storm arose, the fleet was dispersed, and one of the English ships was wrecked on Cape Cod; after which, D’Estaing, having now refitted, sailed for the West Indies, the principal seat of war between France and England, and whither had sailed also 5,000 British troops from New York, under Commodore Hotham, escorted by a strong squadron.

The three commissioners who had come over for the purpose of conciliation having, as we said, produced no effect on congress, afterwards attempted to corrupt the minds of private individuals, or at least this charge was proved upon Governor Johnstone. Under this suspicion congress ordered all the letters written by that gentleman to his American friends—among whom were General Reed, Francis Dana and Robert Morris,—to be laid before them. These letters, as regarded General Reed, proved that a Mrs. Ferguson, a lady of Philadelphia, had been employed to offer him £10,000 and any office which he might desire in the colonies, if he would aid in bringing about the proposed reconciliation. His reply was worthy of an American patriot: “I am not worth purchasing,” said he; “but such as I am, the king of England is too poor to buy me.”^[22] These discoveries called forth a declaration from congress that Johnstone was guilty of an attempt at bribery, and such being the case, it was incompatible with the honour of that body to hold any intercourse with him. This led to a violent reply from Johnstone, accompanied by a document from his fellow-commissioners, by no means calculated to decrease the difference between the two parties. Congress vouchsafed no reply, making use only of the public press to utter their sentiments.

Besides the attempt at conciliation, the commissioners endeavoured to use their influence, with equally little success, in obtaining the discharge of Burgoyne’s troops, who were still detained in the country, contrary to capitulation. Whatever the reasoning of congress might be on this subject, nothing but the quibbles of lawyers could be produced in support of it; and the unfortunate troops, contrary to all honour, after having suffered greatly in the north, were marched off to Charlottesville in Virginia, where they could be more easily guarded and more cheaply fed. There they were quartered in log-huts, gardens were allotted to them, and their encampment formed a village. Some of the officers were afterwards exchanged, but the greater number remained prisoners to the end of the war.^[23]

The last act of the commissioners was the publication of a violent manifesto, addressed not only to congress and the assemblies, but to the people at large, intended to separate them from their rulers, by charging upon them all the miseries and the consequences of the war, declaring that the contest changed its nature when America estranged herself from the mother-country and mortgaged herself and her resources to the enemies of Great Britain; the clergy were reminded that the French were papists, and the lovers of peace were appealed to against ambitious men who were subjecting their country to unnecessary warfare. Forty days were allowed for submission, after which, if the offer were rejected, the country was threatened with desolation as the future object of the war. The circulation of this manifesto under flags of truce was prohibited by congress, but it was published in all the newspapers with a counter-manifesto and with comments from the pens of some of their most able men.

As the commissioners had disparaged France in this document, the Marquis La Fayette, as the representative of his country, sent a challenge to the Earl of Carlisle, which that nobleman declined to accept, on the plea that he was responsible only to his sovereign for his public acts. Shortly after this time the Marquis La Fayette returned to France, in which country he believed that he could serve the rising interest of America more effectually than in her armies.

At the end of the forty days, having flung their firebrand into the country, the commissioners departed, much to the relief of congress, but not before their threatened warfare of desolation had commenced its work.

Sir Henry Clinton, finding all quiet at Newport, returned to New York, whence he despatched Major-General Grey on an expedition against the southern shores of Massachusetts and the adjacent islands. In Buzzard’s Bay, a great resort of American privateers, he destroyed about 100 vessels with all the stores in the neighbourhood, burnt the towns of New Bedford and Fairhaven, and carried off from the inhabitants of the fertile island of Martha’s Vineyard a vast quantity of sheep and oxen. But this was little in comparison with his next achievements. He surprised, in the dead of the night, a sleeping American regiment of light horse, near Tappan, killed a number of them in cold blood, wounded many others and took the rest prisoners. The town of Egg-harbour in New Jersey was burnt, and all the houses and mills and property belonging to the Whig party in that neighbourhood destroyed; while a detachment under one Captain Ferguson, guided by deserters, surprised and cut to pieces the greater portion of Pulaski’s legion. Such was the spirit of ferocity which existed at this moment in the British soldiery; but horrible as were these instances of merciless warfare, they were trivial in comparison with what was going forward in remoter regions, where the Indian savage became the bloody tool of the American loyalist. All our readers know the tragedy of Wyoming. It was enacted at this time. We have already mentioned the settlement of this beautiful valley of the Susquehannah by a number of the quiet people of Connecticut. It had greatly flourished and become very populous, although from the first it had been a cause of dispute between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, both of which states claimed it as belonging to their territory. A few years before the present time, some Scotch and Dutch settlers from New York had come to the valley, thirty of whom having been lately seized on suspicion of being Tories, were sent to Connecticut for trial. Nothing being proved against them, they were discharged, and immediately, as if in confirmation of the accusation, they enlisted in the partisan corps of Butler and the half-blood Indian Brandt, then stationed in the Mohawk valley, eager for the moment of revenge, which was not far off.

Although Wyoming had been only settled since the last war, it numbered about 4,000 inhabitants, one-third of whom it had sent out to the American army, thus leaving itself undefended. This weak state was well known to the offended party, who induced Butler and Brandt to lead to Wyoming a body of 1,500 men, partly Indians, and partly loyalists disguised as such, for the purpose of extermination. On the first rumour of the probability of such an invasion, a body of men was raised to garrison the valley; but they were hardly organised when, at the commencement of July, Butler and his terrible army appeared and commenced their bloody work by waylaying and murdering some of the inhabitants. There were four forts in the valley; the upper fort, being held by a disaffected party, surrendered at once; the few soldiers hastily mustered marched out to meet the enemy, but being a mere handful, were surrounded, many were killed on the spot, and others who were taken prisoners were put to death with every Indian ingenuity of torture. Such as escaped fled to Fort Wyoming, which was then besieged. Under pretence of a parley, the principal officer was drawn out with a number of his men, when the fort was attacked and the greater part slain. The remnant which remained, on desiring to know what terms might be expected, received for reply the emphatic words, “The hatchet.” At last compelled to surrender, the men were put to the sword, and the women and children shut up in the houses and the barracks, which were consumed in one general conflagration. The last fort offered no resistance, and surrendered on the promise of security to life and property; but the promise was not kept, the unhappy people suffered the fate of the others. Butler, it is said, marched away with his Tories at the surrender of the fort, but could not induce the Indians to follow his example; and frenzied with the rage of blood, they remained behind, burning the houses, ravaging the fields, killing and maiming the very cattle with horrible tortures, murdering the men who resisted, and driving such women and children as escaped with life into the forests and mountains. According to some historians there were loyalists among these Indians, who excelled even them in barbarity.

The fate of Wyoming awoke the liveliest indignation; and an expedition of retaliation was very soon undertaken against the Indians of the Upper Susquehannah; and though the Indians, aware of their approach, fled, yet were their harvests destroyed and their fields laid waste. Another expedition was undertaken against the Canadian settlers, most of whom were loyalists, west of the Alleganies. These incursions served only to call forth reprisals; and in November, the flourishing settlement of Cherry Valley, in New York, was surprised by a party of Indians and loyalist regulars. The fort, which was garrisoned by about 200 soldiers, was not taken; but its colonel, who lodged in the town, was killed, the lieutenant-colonel taken prisoner, and the inhabitants suffered the cruel fate of those of Wyoming.

We have already mentioned that Commodore Hyde Parker had been sent in November with a detachment of 3,500 men, under Colonel Campbell, against Georgia; at the same time instructions had been forwarded to Major-General Prevost, who commanded the troops in East Florida, to make all necessary preparations for the defence of Fort St. Augustine, and to co-operate in the views of the present expedition by entering the province of Georgia from that side, and advancing, if possible, so far as to assist Colonel Campbell in the intended attack on Savannah.

The scene of events is now about to be in great measure removed from the North to the South. While the northern provinces had been so long harassed, and had suffered from the calamities of war, the southern had enjoyed such comparative tranquillity that they had duly cultivated their affluent lands and gathered in their abundant harvests, and had carried on their export trade with most of the European markets without impediment, except from British cruisers in the ocean. There had, it is true, been a continuance of petty hostilities between Georgia and East Florida, which had kept up a rumour of war in the south; and in West Florida the British settlements had quietly submitted to the Americans; but as yet all had been comparative peace.

The shortness of provisions in the north, from which the British suffered, rendered it additionally important for them to gain possession of Georgia, the feeblest of the southern provinces. As regards, indeed, the want of provisions, it was felt by the Americans equally with the British; and it is stated that D’Estaing would have found it impracticable to have victualled his ships at Boston but for the opportune seizing, by the New England cruisers, of so large a number of English provision-ships on their way to New York, that there was not only abundance for the French fleet, but the general price of food was lowered thereby in Boston market. This event, which was a great triumph to the Americans, was a serious cause of increased anxiety and suffering to the British army.

But the possession of Georgia was not only important to the British, as furnishing an abundant supply of its staple commodity, rice, and its other numerous products, but as enabling East Florida to join her forces, and thus to form an aggregate establishment in the south, which might greatly influence the ultimate fortunes of the war; besides which, a door would thus be opened into South Carolina.

The commander of the American forces in the southern department was at this time Major-General Robert Howe, who, however, not having given satisfaction to congress, was about to be superseded by General Lincoln, when, on the 23rd of December, the British fleet arrived at the island of Tybee, near the mouth of the river Savannah. The Americans were wholly unprepared for the removal of the scene of war from the north to the south, and no measures of defence had been taken to secure Savannah. Though Howe was there with the whole regular force of the southern department, consisting of six South Carolina and the one Georgia regiments, the whole force did not amount to 800 men; while the batteries which had been constructed for the defence of the river had been suffered to fall into decay.

The capture of Savannah was very easy. On the 28th, the enemy landed just below the town, Major-General Howe having drawn up his forces about half a mile to the east, his left resting on the river, and his right and rear covered by rice-swamps, across which he believed there was but one road. “Fortune, however,” says the British report of this enterprise, “whose favours no prudent officer will ever deny, threw a negro into the hands of the commander, whose intelligence turned to the happiest account.” This man led a British detachment, by a private road known to himself, to the back of Howe’s force, and the Americans, thus at once attacked in front and rear, were completely routed. The British loss was less than thirty; of the Americans 450, while several commissioned officers were taken prisoners; and Savannah, with its artillery, shipping and stores, fell into the hands of the British. The remains of Howe’s army fled into South Carolina.

This was the greatest acquisition made by the British in the present year. Washington had gone into winter-quarters at Middlebrook. The two hostile armies of the north were now, at the close of 1778, after two years’ struggles and manœuvres, in very nearly the same relative position as at the close of 1776. The British, driven from the mainland, were now again entrenched on New York Island; and Washington, speaking of the present state of affairs, nobly remarked: “The hand of Providence had been so conspicuous in all this, that he who lacked faith must have been worse than an infidel, and he more than wicked who had no gratitude to acknowledge his obligations.”