that such would be the result of the altered policy of England. Accordingly, a reduction of the United States army, to take place on the 1st of January, 1783, was talked of in the late autumn of the previous year. The proposal was not popular among those whom it immediately affected. Washington, writing to the Secretary at War on the 2nd of October, 1782, said that, although no one seemed opposed in principle to the reduction of the army as circumstances might require, he could not help fearing the result of the measure in contemplation under existing conditions. "When," he wrote, "I see such a number of men goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on the past, and of anticipation on the future, about to be turned into the world, soured by penury and what they call the ingratitude of the public, involved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the flower of their days, and many of them their patrimonies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country, when I consider these irritating circumstances, without one thing to soothe their feelings or dispel the gloomy prospects, I cannot avoid apprehending that a train of evils will follow, of a very serious and distressing nature." He went on to remark that the patience and long-suffering of the army were almost exhausted, and that there had never been so great a spirit of discontent as at that instant. "While in the field," said Washington, "I think it may be kept from breaking out into acts of outrage; but when we retire into winterquarters, unless the storm is previously dissipated, I cannot be at ease respecting the consequences."

These forebodings were not without justification. The mutiny among the Pennsylvania and New Jersey troops, in January, 1781, was but a symptom of gathering disaffection to the Federal Government; the proposal, at a later date, that Washington should establish a species of personal Government, with the attributes, if not with the title, of Royalty, was further evidence of the existence of the same feeling. That feeling had leisure to grow and strengthen during the period of idleness which extended throughout the winter of 1782-3. It was much debated whether the resolution of Congress, granting half-pay to officers who should serve to the end of the war, would be carried into practice. Great doubt could not but be felt on the subject, because, as the national treasury was empty, it was not at all clear where the funds for such payment were to be found. Moreover, the Constitution itself placed an obstacle in the way of these claimants; for the articles of Confederation required the concurrence of nine

States to any Act appropriating public money, and it was well known that there were not so many as nine States in favour of granting half pay permanently. The general opinion in the army, therefore, was that the resolution of Congress would be illusory, and an agitation was commenced for bringing the claims of the officers before the attention of the country and its representatives. A memorial to Congress was numerously signed, in which it was proposed that a specific sum should be granted to the officers for money actually due, and as a commutation for half-pay. This document was presented to Congress in December, 1782, and led to many debates; but no definite results ensued. The feeling of anger in the army grew more extreme, and, on the 10th of March, 1783, an anonymous paper was circulated through the camp at Newburgh, on the Hudson, calling a meeting of the general and field-officers, to consider a letter received from a committee of their number who had been sent to Philadelphia to confer with Congress, and what measures should be adopted to obtain a redress of grievances.

The meeting was to take place on the following day, and during the 10th an anonymous address to the officers of the army was privately circulated. It was of a very inflammatory character, and evidently designed to create a revolution by military force. In phrases of laboured antithesis and rhetorical balance, after the fashion of Johnson's most self-conscious style, the writer described himself as a fellow-soldier whose interests and affections bound him strongly to his companions-in-arms—whose past sufferings had been as great as theirs, and whose future fortunes might be as desperate. He had loved private life, and left it with regret, determined to retire from the field with the necessity that called him to it. Until very recently, he had believed in the justice of his country, and had hoped that with the return of peace the coldness and severity of Government would relax. But that hope had now passed, and to continue to bear injuries and injustice, without one manly effort to redress them, would show the world that they deserved the chains they had broken. By their sufferings and their courage they had conducted the United States through a doubtful and bloody war to independence and peace; and, instead of receiving gratitude, admiration, and reward, they met with denial of their rights, with insult and disdain. They had more

than once appealed to Congress, but without effect. In the meek language of entreating memorials, they had begged for justice, and had received an answer which gave no satisfaction. "If this, then,"

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pursued the writer, "be your treatment while the swords you wear are necessary for the defence of America, what have you to expect from peace, when your voice shall sink, and your strength dissipate by division; when those very swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no remaining mark of military distinction left, but your wants, infirmities, and scars? Can you then consent to be the only sufferers by this revolution, and, retiring from the field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt? Can you consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity which has hitherto been spent in honour? If you can, go, and carry with you the jest of Tories and the scorn of Whigs; the ridicule and, what is worse, the pity of the world! Go, starve and be forgotten! But, if your spirits should revolt at this; if you have sense enough to discover and spirit sufficient to oppose tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume-whether it be the plain coat of republicanism, or the splendid robe of royalty; if you have yet learned to discriminate between a people and a cause, between men and principles; awake, attend to your situa tion, and redress yourselves! If the present moment be lost, every future effort is in vain; and your threats then will be as empty as your entreaties now." The writer, therefore, advised his brethren to carry their appeal from the justice to the fears of Government; to assume a bolder, though still a decent, tone; to suspect the man who would advise to greater moderation; and to draw up a last remonstrance to Congress. The members of that body were to be told that despair might drive the army from the field; that, in the event of peace, nothing should separate them from their arms but death; and that, should the war continue, they would seek the direction of their illustrious leader, retire to some unsettled country, and mock the Government when seized by fear of the conse

quences.

The author of the address was Major Armstrong (afterwards General Armstrong), then a young man, and aide-de-camp to General Gates. He is said to have written this and other anonymous documents at the solicitation of his military friends; but it is certain that he gave expression to his individual views as well. Such an address revealed the existence of a most dangerous spirit in the army; for civil government and civil liberty are at an end if soldiers are to be allowed the right of threatening to withdraw in a body from the service of the country, even while the enemy is in the field, because their complaints are not at once admitted

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and redressed. What made this conduct still more blamable was the fact that Congress, though doubtless not eager to recognise the claims of the army, had as yet taken no decisive step, and given no decisive answer, on the several questions submitted to it by the officers; and that, by the last report of their representatives at Philadelphia, which was to be considered at the proposed meeting on the 11th of March, there was still a prospect of the desired commutation for half-pay being granted, if some of the dissenting States could be won over, and other States, then unrepresented in Congress, could be got to send members. The publication of this inflammatory document was very distressing to Washington, who, much as he sympathised with the wrongs of the army, had always a lofty sense of the supremacy of the civil power. On the 11th of March, he issued a General Order, in which he characterised the unauthorised proposal to hold a meeting that day as a disorderly proceeding, but at the same time summoned a meeting of officers for the 15th, to hear the report of the Philadelphian committee of the army. At that meeting, the officers were, after mature deliberation, to devise "what further measures ought to be adopted, as most rational, and best calculated to attain the just and important object in view;" and the result was to be reported to the Commander-in-Chief. The writer of the anonymous address now issued another, in which he professed to find in Washington's General Order a proof that the head of the army was entirely in favour of his views and designs. He had to wait no longer than the holding of the meeting on the 15th to discover how completely he was mistaken.

At that meeting, General Gates, as the senior officer present, presided. Previous to the gathering, Washington sent for the officers one by one in private, and represented to them how much the whole army would suffer in character by intemperate resolutions. It was not originally his intention to appear personally; but he saw occasion to change that resolve. Rising as soon as the meeting had been formed, he apologised for. his presence, and proceeded to observe that the diligence which had been used in circulating anonymous writings rendered it necessary that he should give expression to his views on the subject. He had committed his thoughts to writing, and, soliciting the indulgence of his brother officers, proceeded to read what he had set down. After condemning the unknown writer of the addresses, he proceeded to disavow any indifference to the interests of the army. "But how," he asked, "are they to be promoted? The way is plain, says the

anonymous addresser: if war continues, remove into the unsettled country; there establish yourselves, and leave an ungrateful country to defend itself. But whom are they to defend? Our wives, our children, our farms and other property, which we leave behind us? Or, in the state of hostile separation, are we to take the two first (the latter cannot be removed) to perish in a wilderness with hunger, cold, and nakedness? If peace takes place, never sheathe your swords, says he, until you have obtained full and ample justice. This dreadful alternative, of either deserting our country in the extremest hour of distress, or turning our arms against it, which is the apparent object, unless Congress can be compelled into instant compliance, has something so shocking in it that humanity revolts at the idea. My God! What can this writer have in view by recommending such measures? Can he be a friend to the army ? Can he be a friend to this country? Rather, is he not an insidious foe? Some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plotting the ruin of both by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between the civil and military powers of the continent. And what a compliment does he pay to our understandings when he recommends measures, in either alternative, impracticable in their nature!" Washington maintained that Congress had an exalted sense of the services of the army, and would do it complete justice; that the members of that honourable body had laboriously endeavoured to discover funds for the payment of the military, and that they would not cease till they had succeeded; but that their deliberations were unavoidably slow, like those of all large bodies where it is necessary to reconcile a variety of interests. To distrust them would not bring the desired object nearer; on the contrary, it would cast it to a greater distance. Washington assured his auditors that, within the limits set by the Constitution, they might command his services in the attainment of entire justice; but at the same time he exhorted them to rely on the plighted faith of their country, and to place full confidence in the late resolution of Congress that, previous to their dissolution as an army, all accounts should be fairly liquidated, and ample justice should be done.

After reading this address, and also a conciliatory letter which he had received from a member of Congress, the Commander-in-Chief retired, and resolutions were then put, and unanimously carried, to the general effect that the army reciprocated the affectionate expressions of their head, with the greatest sincerity of which the human heart is capable; that they continued to have an unshaken

confidence in the justice of Congress and the country, but expected that kalf-pay, or a commutation of it, would be included in any arrangement that might be come to; that the Commander-in-Chief should be requested to write to the President of Congress, earnestly entreating a speedy decision on the late memorial forwarded by the committee of the army; and that the officers of that army viewed with abhorrence, and rejected with disdain, the infamous propositions contained in the anonymous address. In accordance with these resolutions, Washington wrote to the President of Congress on the 18th of March, earnestly and eloquently, yet temperately, urging the claims of his companions. The result was, that, on the subject being again taken up on the 22nd, nine States concurred in a resolution commuting the half-pay into a sum equal to five years' whole pay. A very serious danger to the Republic, which at one time appeared to threaten the most tragic consequences, was thus removed. The conduct of Major Armstrong was clearly unjustifiable, since it was a menace of civil war-the approach towards an attack by the country's defenders on the country itself. But it is very likely that the sluggish temper of Congress was thus stimulated into action; and at any rate it may be conceded that the author of the anonymous addresses (which were circulated in manuscript, and copied by many of the officers) had no evil design, and was misled by his too strong perception of a real grievance, and by the haste and rashness of immaturity. This, several years after, was the opinion of Washington himself. In his address to the assembled officers, he conjured them "to express their utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of their country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord, and deluge their rising empire in blood." But in a letter to Armstrong, written on the 23rd of February, 1797, he said: "I have since had sufficient reason for believing that the object of the author was just, honourable, and friendly to the country, though the means suggested by him were certainly liable to much misunderstanding and abuse."

Two days after the decision of Congress with respect to the commutation of half-pay, the first intimation of the preliminaries of peace was received at Philadelphia. The Marquis de Lafayette had written from Cadiz on the 5th of February, announcing the welcome news, and had enclosed a copy of orders given by Count d'Estaing for the purpose of putting a stop to hostilities at sea. Congress accordingly directed the marine agent of the United States to recall all armed ships cruising

under commissions from the American Government. On the 4th of April, a vessel arrived at Salem, from Nantes, bringing with it a printed copy of a declaration of the American Ministers at Paris, made on the 20th of February, and setting forth that the ratifications of the preliminaries of peace had been exchanged. By a remarkable coincidence, the same captain who carried to England the news of the outbreak of hostilities at Lexington, conveyed to the shores of America the first intelligence of returning peace. By another coincidence, which, however, was probably contrived, the cessation of hostilities with Great Britain was, by order of Washington, proclaimed in the American camp on the 19th of April, 1783, the eighth anniversary of the melancholy collision between the Massachusetts yeomen and the King's troops. "Nothing now remains," said the Commander-in-Chief, in his address to the army, "but for the actors of this mighty scene to preserve a perfect, unvarying consistency of character through the very last act, to close the drama with applause, and to retire from the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and men which has crowned all their former virtuous actions." Those eight years had indeed been years of the most serious importance, not only to America, but to Europe. They had created a new nation and founded a new Power. They had introduced into the world of politics a principle of government which, if not absolutely original, had never before been so clearly asserted on so large a field of action-the great and beneficent principle that there is no political right but in the consent of the governed, and that when monarchs, or even Parliaments, forget this truth, they place themselves beyond the pale of law, and are the outcasts of the communities they wrong. On the day of Lexington, it was doubtful whether this truth would be triumphant, or be trodden out in mire and blood. It was even open to debate whether the best method of asserting it had been chosen-whether some element of quarrelsomeness and perversity had not been mixed up with the simpler and nobler constituents of the question. But at any rate the principle was there flung out like a banner in the face of King George's army; and now, after eight years of desperate fighting and varying fortunes, that army was compelled to acknowledge it-compelled by the supreme argument of success. America might well be proud; Europe might well regard the portent, and watch the coming time.

Some uneasiness was felt by Washington lest the troops, unable to distinguish between the preliminaries of peace and the actual conclusion of the state of war, should at once insist on their

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discharge. He therefore wrote to the President of Congress, entreating a prompt determination as to the period of service. The answer took the form of a resolution, explaining that the services of the men engaged for the war would not expire until the ratification of the definitive articles of peace, but also authorising the Commander-in-Chief to grant furloughs according as he thought proper, and to allow the men to take their arms with them. Availing himself of the permission, Washington issued a large number of furloughs, and the men thus sent home were never again called to the field. This gradual mode of dispersing the army, while still retaining a hold on its members in case some singular and unforeseen circumstances should yet prevent the completion of peace, had the advantage of avoiding the danger of a sudden and simultaneous casting of large bodies of troops upon the country. It was a gentle and easy passage out of the longaccustomed state of war.

While these events were going on, Sir Guy Carleton was preparing for the evacuation of the city of New York, and for removing the adherents of the Royal cause who remained there. He had already written for all the shipping that could be spared from Europe and the West Indies; and on the 27th of April a fleet sailed for various parts of Nova Scotia, carrying about seven thousand persons, with their effects. Some of these were troops, but the greater number were refugees, who looked with great depression of spirits on the prospect of being exiled to a wintry and half-desert country, where there was little to attract, and not much to be earned. On the 6th of May, a personal conference between Washington and Sir Guy Carleton was held at Orangetown, with reference to the transfer of posts in the United States held by the British troops, and the delivery of all property stipulated by the treaty to be given up to the Americans. The great subject of discussion was as to whether the English General had acted rightly in sending off certain negroes belonging to citizens of the United States. Washington contended that the seventh article of the preliminaries forbade the removal of blacks, or of any other property of Americans. Carleton, on the contrary, argued that it could not have been the intention of the British Government to reduce themselves to the necessity of violating their faith to negroes who had come within the British lines on the invitation of his predecessors. To restore these unhappy beings to their former masters would be to deliver up some, possibly, to execution, and others to severe punishments. This, he conceived, would be a dishonourable violation of the public faith; but he gave it