Volume I Part 15 (1/2)
ruin, in which theirs also must ultimately be involved.”[420]
With such men, Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, in angry exasperation, ”in the present situation of things, I cannot help asking--Where is Mason--Wythe--Jefferson?”[422]
”Where is Jefferson?” wrote Was.h.i.+ngton 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 s.h.i.+vering 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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, s.h.i.+vering 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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.” Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton.
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, Was.h.i.+ngton 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 Was.h.i.+ngton, ”can furnish an instance of an army's suffering such uncommon hards.h.i.+ps ... 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, Was.h.i.+ngton 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. Was.h.i.+ngton 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” Was.h.i.+ngton 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 champions.h.i.+p of the American cause and his attack upon the British.[439] For it meant trained troops, s.h.i.+ps 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. Was.h.i.+ngton 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.