Victory at Yorktown (12 page)

A married woman, he continued, was very faithful to her husband, even though she might have led “a most licentious life” in the years before marriage. Men didn't seem to mind this; they were not fussy and believed a girl should be free until she was married. If a married woman committed adultery, the husband announced his wife's “delinquency” and published it in the papers, stating that he would neither pay her bills nor be liable for her debts. Yet even if the situation deteriorated to that stage, adultery was no excuse for dissolving a marriage—the laws did not permit it, and husbands were quite patient about waiting for their wives to repent.

*   *   *

ONE OF THE
high points of autumn for the French visitors was a visit by “several savage tribes” of Indians of the Six Nations. General Philip Schuyler had arranged this with an eye to favorable propaganda. The English, it seemed, had been assiduously informing the Indians that the French were not allied with the Americans, and Schuyler believed it would be very effective to have some of the natives see at first hand the French army and navy in Newport to give the lie to that talk. So he had directed James Dean, the agent for Indian affairs, to accompany them and introduce them to Rochambeau and others.
*

By all accounts the visit was a huge success. Nineteen of the Indians were received by Rochambeau, who had some of his regiments parade for them, go through the manual of arms, and fire muskets and cannon—which “alarmed them no end.” The Duc de Lauzun's hussars delighted them, as did a tour of the mighty ships in the harbor. Craftily, the Indians informed Rochambeau through an interpreter that they had chosen him to lead them in war. They regretted that some of their people had gone over to the English, they added, and gave the reason: “[The English] have such good
tafia
, such good rum! Besides, they give us gunpowder to go hunting [and] by all these things we are often seduced and brought over to their side.” Rochambeau got the point and told them at once that the king “thanked them and would not let them lack for spirits.” Then he presented them with a medal struck with the arms of France, swords, shirts, blankets, and other gifts, including rouge, which they immediately combed into their hair and daubed over their shirts, blankets, and the rest of their bodies.

If the Indians were fascinated by the French, the reverse was certainly true. Jean-Baptiste-Antoine de Verger described in detail how they oiled and then rouged their bodies, red being their favorite color. “They slit the lobes around the edges of their ears until they hang down to their chins, weighed down by various small ornaments.” They pierce the cartilage of the nose and attach more baubles, pull out the hair at the nape of the neck and attach small locks of it to the top of the head. When young, he discovered, they cut designs on their face.

He was particularly impressed with their dancing. After removing their outerwear of animal skins, revealing well-proportioned bodies oiled and rouged, some of them danced with swords in their hands while their comrades intoned a monotonous chant. They danced “with great strength and agility, assuming various postures symbolizing a man in combat and breaking out from time to time into war-cries or dirges so piercing and violent that they filled one with terror.” He had seen much and learned something very important: “They prefer rum above all things, and when drunk they are very dangerous.”

Quite another kind of discovery for these French Catholics was an introduction to Quakers, of whom many lived in and around Newport. The men, they found, were extremely grave in their dress and manner, very temperate, and inclined to talk little. Unlike a majority of Americans, they did not permit slavery in their society; they never took an oath (since they had no faith in the word of man), refused to pay tithes, and had neither priests nor ministers. The sexes were separated in their meetinghouse on Sundays, with men on one side, women on the other, and complete silence was observed. Only when one of them felt inspired did anyone speak, and the speech was often accompanied by convulsive movements, a twitching of limbs.

It was a rigid sect, to be sure. “Quakers allow themselves no pleasures beyond conversation and meditation; they are forbidden to sing and dance.” And the women, Clermont-Crèvecoeur observed, were not only very pretty but “more inclined to pleasure than other sects.… They detest their religion [and] If the Quaker men are even more solemn than those of other sects, one finds that Quaker girls balance the score by being much gayer and more playful. They love pleasure but are always held back by the fear of displeasing their parents.”

Having said that, he noted, “Their wedding feasts are terribly dreary, since nobody speaks. You may imagine how much fun that would be!”

Of considerably more importance for the Frenchmen's mission here was the acquisition of knowledge about the two sides in America's revolution. In a passage that could have been written by a rebel propagandist, Clermont-Crèvecoeur wrote in his diary, “This country is divided between two parties called Whigs and Tories,” adding that the former were the “good Americans,” fighting for the freedom of their country and against the unjust laws the English wanted imposed on them, while the others, known as “royalists,” remained attached to the king. He and his countrymen had been here long enough that they could “define and analyze the character of these Tories,” he said confidently. The majority of them were cowardly and cruel, while some, undecided about whether to take sides, appeared to be waiting for “some happy event to indicate in which direction their interest lay.” Still others pretended to be on the side of the Americans but were in fact spies paid by the English to betray their compatriots, and great numbers of them, lured by money and permission from the English, had pillaged and sacked the homes of their fellow citizens. From someone he had heard that three-quarters of the inhabitants were Tories, that you could not travel in safety “for fear of these brigands.” What seemed to make the strongest impression on him was that when the French first gave balls the Whigs refused to come to a house to which Tories had been invited. Later, since the latter were so numerous in Newport—especially their ladies—the French never lacked for dancing partners, and “all was smoothed over in the end; the women all danced regardless, and everything went beautifully.” In fact, when George Washington came to Newport in March and “[the French] generals gave fêtes and balls in his honor … he danced indiscriminately with everyone. He was honored and esteemed even by his enemies.”

Washington had other matters on his mind besides dancing. He was there to discuss plans for the coming campaign and spent eight days in talks with Rochambeau and his aides before returning to the Hudson Highlands.

*   *   *

IN DECEMBER NEWS
reached the Americans that Sir Henry Clinton had dispatched Major General Alexander Leslie to the Chesapeake. He was to make a diversion in favor of Cornwallis, who was thought to be “acting in the back parts of North Carolina,” by proceeding up the James River as far as possible and seizing any magazines the rebels had in Petersburg and Richmond. The British had recently captured a quantity of mail from American officers which revealed that morale among those men had hit rock bottom, giving Clinton every reason to hope he might be able “to increase and accelerate the confusion which began everywhere to appear in the rebel counsels.”

Included in the American officers' correspondence captured by the British was a letter signed by three generals (Greene, Knox, Glover) and others, who had written to their respective states saying that American officers could no longer continue under the present circumstances.

An army consisting of a few inadequate thousands, almost destitute of every public supply, its officers, whose tables once abounded with plenty and variety, subsisting month after month on one bare ration of dry bread and meat, and that frequently of the meanest quality, their families looking up to them for their usual support, their children for the education to which they once had a title—our enemies know human nature too well to apprehend they shall have to contend long with an army under such circumstances.

Another purloined letter, from Alexander Hamilton to the former Son of Liberty Isaac Sears, noted that Clinton was said to be detaching a substantial force to the South, prompting Hamilton to comment ruefully, “My fears are high, my hopes low.”

From yet another source came a particularly bad piece of news: Henry Laurens had been captured at sea by a British vessel. Laurens, who had been president of the Continental Congress in 1777 and 1778, was a prominent merchant and planter from Charleston and, acting for Congress, was on his way to Holland to negotiate a treaty of commerce and friendship, plus a loan of $10 million. The British not only sent Laurens to the Tower of London, where he was imprisoned until the end of 1781, but used certain of his papers as justification to declare war on Holland on December 20, 1780.

Rochambeau had departed from Newport on December 11, headed for Boston, and no sooner arrived there than he was called back because of the sudden death from asthma of the Chevalier de Ternay. On Christmas day a terrible storm with claps of thunder and violent flashes of lightning hit the city, which seemed all of a piece with the terrible weather that had begun in August with hurricanes in the Caribbean and made its way north, overturning almost all the camp tents, sinking a British frigate with all hands in Hell Gate, near New York, and shrouding the Northeast in thick fog.

At about this time Washington set in motion a plan that was certain to raise the rebels' morale if successful. He gave secret orders to Lieutenant Colonel David Humphreys to take a small group of men down the Hudson at night, rowing with muffled oars in the darkness, and, after landing on Manhattan behind the house occupied by General Clinton, to surprise and seize the sentries, break into the house, and capture Clinton and whatever papers they could find. Simultaneously, another party was to abduct General Wilhelm von Knyphausen, commander of the German troops. The kidnappers set out on Christmas night, shortly after Arnold had sailed for the Chesapeake, but unfortunately high winds drove the boats out into New York Bay, well beyond the city.

Nothing more is known of the plot, but it is clear that George Washington was hoping to pull off a coup that would offset any possible advantage the British had gained by the treason of Benedict Arnold.

*   *   *

IN THE AMERICAN
army's camps, sinking morale produced a crisis. From Morristown, Brigadier General Anthony Wayne sent a dire message dated January 2, 1781, to the commander in chief: “The most general and unhappy mutiny took place in the Pennsylvania line about 9 o'clock last night [and] a great proportion of the troops, with some artillery, are marching toward Philadelphia. The men seized several field pieces, resisted the officers who tried to restore order, killed one captain, and wounded several others.” Approximately half of the soldiers had defied their officers, he estimated, and “how long it will last, God knows.…” Fortunately, no officer had joined the mutiny.

The unhappy soldiers had appointed a committee of sergeants to act on their behalf, and they insisted that the enlistments of those who had signed up for “three years or the war” had terminated on the last day of 1780 and that they were eligible for discharges. They demanded the back pay and clothing to which they were entitled and stipulated that participants in the mutiny not be punished.
*
It turned out that civil authorities—the Council of Pennsylvania—had been brought into the dispute. That was something the council had a right to do, but Washington feared that a civil settlement would be more lenient by far than the disciplinary action the military would require. Nor was that his only worry. The worst was that other units—quite possibly the entire army, as far as he could tell—would follow suit and bring about the end of the war for independence. Once again, the survival of America depended on bread, meat, and clothing for its armed forces, and he wrote for help to the New England governors, telling them that the army simply could not be held together much longer under the appalling conditions that confronted it. Unless the men received three months' back pay, in currency that was truly worth something, and unless they were properly clothed and fed, “the worst that can befall us may be expected.”

The main army was far too weak to march against the Pennsylvanians, and in any case, who knew if the troops around headquarters would remain loyal? At this point it was impossible for Washington to assess the temper of these soldiers, to determine whether he could rely on them. West Point must be held at all costs (and the only way to ensure its safety was to call on the New York militia if it proved necessary); Wayne and his officers must keep the mutineers south of the Delaware River, lest they go over to the enemy; and Congress simply must not flee Philadelphia.

The General was sorely tempted to ride at once to Morristown to face the mutineers, but recognized that in doing so he risked losing the support of other units. “God only knows what will be the consequence, or what can be done in this critical dilemma. All reason, authority and personal influence seem to be lost on them,” he wrote. The shattering of discipline seemed the final straw, on top of a worthless currency, failure to obtain the long-term enlistments the army needed so desperately, and the shocking indifference of civilians to the plight of those who were doing the fighting for them. He could not help being reminded of the darkest days of December 1776 and wondered if these past four years of fighting and suffering had achieved anything.

At that time he had had to contend with General Sir William Howe. Now Sir Henry Clinton faced him, and he received the disturbing news that the British commander in chief had sent one or more emissaries who were offering the Pennsylvania troops money and provisions.