Reign of George III. (Continued.) page 17

Having reached Verplank's Point, about forty miles above New York, on the east bank of the Hudson, which stands on a peninsula, and had been reconnitred by lord Ramsden in a frigate, Clinton landed, and spent the night of the 6th. There was a battery and a breastwork manned by Americans, who fled at his approach. Leaving one thousand men there, he crossed to the other bank with his remaining two thousand, and landed them at Stoney Point, only twelve miles from Fort Montgomery. Why he did not still ascend the Hudson to the fort does not appear, except that, perhaps, he might take the garrison of the fort by surprise, through an unusual route. But what he might succeed in obtaining by this manoeuvre, he lost by the fact that he could not carry his cannon with him. The road lay over the steep and rugged mountain of Denderbury, which overhung the town. The track through many of the passes was so narrow that a mere handful of troops posted on the cliffs on each side might have cut off any army, however great. The troops could carry no artillery, though they were going to storm forts. But it was in their favour that Putnam, deceived by the force left at Verplank's Point, remained on that side of the river, and the British detachment made its arduous mountain march unmolested. They had already issued from the last defile at the further foot of the mountain, when they met an American detachment on its way to obstruct it. These men fled back, and thus the idea of a surprise was at an end. But Clinton did not halt on that account. He advanced with one-half of his force to storm Fort Clinton, and dispatched lieutenant-colonel Campbell to attack Fort Montgomery. Both forts were to be attacked, as nearly as possible, at the same instant, to prevent the one aiding the other. The simultaneous assaults took place about sunset. Lieutenant-colonel Campbell was killed leading his column against Fort Montgomery, but his brave troop entered and drove the garrison of eight hundred men from the place.

Clinton found the approach to the fort of his own name much more arduous. It stood on a rocky steep, with the Hudson flowing close under a precipice on one hand, and a lake on the other. The intervening space had been obstructed by felled trees, so as to render the advance to it as slow and, therefore, as deadly as possible. The garrison numbered four hundred men, and was defended by ten pieces of heavy artillery. The English soldiers were ordered to make the most rapid rush that they could, under the circumstances, without waiting to fire a gun. On they went, crashing through the branches of the trees, leaping the trunks, or creeping under them, where they were lifted from the ground, all the while the most deadly fire of cannon and rifle playing upon them. But on they went till they reached the foot of the works, where, having no ladders, they hoisted one another on their shoulders to the embrasures, through which they pushed past the cannon, and drove the Americans from their guns, and across the rampart, at the points of their bayonets. The dastardly garrison, though about to fling down their arms, before they did it, turned and fired a murderous salute on the English, and then cried for quarter. From no other soldiers would they have received anything but extermination; but, says Stedman, not a man was put to death after the surrender; and this fact, he adds, displaying so generous a moderation on the part of the victors, he gives in contradiction to the account published in the French papers, that the conquerors put the whole garrison to the sword.

The American governor, Clinton, as well as his brother, general Clinton, escaped across the river; lieutenant-colonels Livingstone and Bruyn, and majors Hamilton and Logan, were taken prisoners. The Americans lost three hundred killed, wounded, and prisoners, but chiefly prisoners. The loss of the English consisted of only one hundred and forty killed and wounded. Amongst the slain was one of the very few Poles fighting on our side, count Grabowski. Major Sill and Captain Stuart also fell at the storming. The whole affair was of that extraordinary brilliancy as showed that such soldiers, conducted by able generals, and sent in sufficient force by an able government, would have been invincible.

It was dark by the time the forts were taken, but the Americans soon threw light enough on the scene by setting fire to several vessels which were moored close under the guns of the forts. These blew up, and were totally destroyed. Had the English been disposed to risk the attempt to save them, they were prevented by several strong booms and chains thrown across the river. These they afterwards broke through, and, on the 13th of October, at the very moment that Burgoyne was making his first overtures for surrender, the English troops under general Vaughan ascended, in small frigates, as far as Esopus Creek, only thirty miles overland to Saratoga. So near had even the dilatoriness and stupor of the British government yet left the union of the armies!

The British ships destroyed a number of vessels on the river. At Fort Constitution, a very strong place, the garrison fled precipitately, leaving their artillery behind them; and at a place called Continental Village, having a barracks of one thousand five hundred men, and great storehouses, governor Tryon and his New York loyalists too well imitated the cruelty of the New Englanders, by setting fire to and destroying the whole. But Burgoyne having now surrendered, and Gates being at liberty to send down strong reinforcements to co-operate with Putnam, the English vessels and troops were recalled, and returned to New York.

Such was the campaign of 1777; equally remarkable for the valour of the British troops, and for their misfortunes for the imbecility of their government, and the incapacity or rashness of their commanders, who, like Burgoyne, who had ignored the warnings of the well-informed, to his destruction, followed the dictates of routine. Burgoyne committed two capital errors: one in not keeping up an unbroken connection with the fleet on the lakes, so as at any time to secure his retreat; and the other, in advancing so far without a prospect of Sir William Howe's co-operation. With the certainty of that co-operation, he could have readily made his way to Albany, and there have defied all attacks till Sir William's arrival, when the whole design of the expedition would have been accomplished. On the other hand, nothing but the apathy of such a general as Sir William Howe would have left Burgoyne in so critical a situation, when the advance of a few frigates up the Hudson would have prevented it. Again, Howe, on his part, charged the blame of this gross mismanagement on the government at home; and certainly with much justice, though not to the entire exculpation of himself, seeing that he could have ordered Clinton to do what he did, but too late, on his own responsibility. In fact, Howe had been so incensed by the neglect of government to send out the necessary reinforcements, that he had demanded his own recall. He complained that he had been promised large reinforcements by lord George Germaine, secretary of state for the colonies; that he had made his plans in conformity with these promises, and that not one of them had been kept. He therefore requested his majesty's permission to resign, which was shortly after accorded. Such was the manner in which England conducted this most unfortunate war.

These matters had now to be criticised in parliament. On the 20th of November the two houses met, and the king, in a speech, the blind folly of which it is scarcely possible now to conceive, assured them that he had still the utmost confidence in the conduct and courage of his commanders in America, and in the peaceful intentions of France and the other continental powers. If there was one thing more notorious than another, it was that France had at this time entered into a formal alliance with America. Lord North knew it too well; but ministers were afraid of confessing it. Yet they did, in some degree, admit the fallacy of their own statements in the king's speech, by demanding additions to our naval force, at the same time that the king expressed his hope that "the deluded and unhappy multitude in America," tired of the tyranny of their new leaders, and remembering their former happiness under his sway, would yet soon enable him to accomplish the greatest happiness and glory of his reign - the restoration of peace, order, and confidence in the American colonies.

In commenting on the address, the earl of Coventry, who in the preceding session had evinced so clear an insight into the real value of colonies and their trade, now recommended the withdrawal of our troops, and the recognition of the independence of the states. His views of the result of such a movement, however, were not so lucid or prophetic as his former ones. " Mark well," he said, u the vast extent of those colonies, and the diminutive figure of Britain; consider their domestic situations; the increase of population in the one, and the inevitable decline of it in the other. The luxury, dissipation, and all their concomitant effects on this country; and the frugality, industry, and consequent wise policy of America. These, my lords, were the main grounds on which I presumed to trouble you from time to time on this subject. I foresaw then, as I continue to do, that a period must arrive when America would render herself independent; that this country would fall, and the seat of empire be removed beyond the Atlantic,"

How astonished would the speaker be could he now behold the relative condition of the two countries! England, freed as it were from a clog and an incumbrance by the severance of America, still going on planting newer and more wealthy colonies; rising ever into new elevations of power and glory, growing daily more affluent, and daily adopting more liberal and Christian principles of government; whilst the United States, though grown populous by influx of many peoples, has daily growing up in her heart the dark and terrible canker of Slavery, perverting her principles, undermining her Christianity, enslaving her free states, dragging her down to public bullyism and savagery - a condition on which the handful of noble souls in her midst look with consternation, as pregnant with inevitable disruption, internecine conflict, and all their awful train of calamities. But not only did lord Coventry, but almost every statesman then, consider the separation of America the destruction of our commerce. How little did they then understand the true principles of commerce, or foresee that our foreign trade, which then amounted to some fifteen or twenty millions sterling, should now exceed a hundred millions!

Lord Chatham rose instantly to reply, and to move an amendment on the address. Strong as his sympathies were with America, and certain as it was that had he been in the ministry there would have been no war, yet we shall see that even he had acquired no new light. He still would not tax America, but he would keep her a dependence - a thing which was no more possible than it was to recall the past year - unless they could put her down with arms, which Chatham himself declared an utter impossibility. No party had yet acquired any new light on the philosophy of colonisation - it had yet to be taught by the great events approaching.

After joining in congratulations on the birth of another princess, Chatham, leaning on his crutches, said: " Here, my lords, I must stop; my courtly complaisance will carry me no farther. I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. I cannot concur in a florid and servile address, which approves and endeavours to sanctify the monstrous measures that have heaped disgrace and misfortune upon us, that have brought ruin to our doors. This, my lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment! It is no time for adulation. The smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne in the language of truth. We must dispel the delusion and darkness which envelop it, and display in its full danger and true colours the ruin that is brought to our doors."

He then attacked the ministry with a still more personal and sweeping censure than he had done once before. " Can ministers," he asked, " presume to expect a continuance of support in their career of ruinous infatuation? Can parliament be so dead to its dignity and its duty as to be deluded into the loss of the one and the violation of the other? Will they continue to give an unlimited credit and support to government in measures which are reducing this flourishing empire to ruin and contempt? But yesterday, and England might have stood against the world; now, none so poor to do her reverence! I use the words of a poet; but, though it be poetry, it is no fiction. It is a shameful truth, that not only the power and strength of this country are wasting away and expiring, but her well-earned glories, her true honour and substantial dignity, are sacrificed. France, my lords, has insulted you; she has encouraged and sustained America; and, whether America be wrong or right, the dignity of this country ought to spurn at the officious insult of French interference. The ministers and ambassadors of those who are called rebels and enemies are in Paris; in Paris they transact the reciprocal interests of America and France. Can there be a more mortifying insult? Can even our ministers sustain a more humiliating disgrace? Do they dare to resent it? Do they presume even to hint a vindication of their honour, and the dignity of the state, by requiring the dismissal of the plenipotentiaries of America? Such is the degradation to which they have reduced the glories of England! The people whom they affect to call contemptible rebels, but whose growing power has at least obtained the name of enemies - the people against whom they have engaged this country in war, and against whom they now command our implicit support in every measure of desperate hostility; this people, despised as rebels, or acknowledged as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with military stores, their interests consulted, and their ambassadors entertained by your inveterate enemies; and our ministers dare not interpose with dignity or effect! Is this the honour of a great kingdom? Is this the indignant spirit of England, who but yesterday gave law to the house of Bourbon? My lords, the dignity of nations demands a decisive conduct in a situation like this.; Even when the greatest prince that perhaps this country ever saw filled our throne, the requisition of a Spanish general on a similar subject was attended to and complied with; for, on the spirited conduct of the duke of Alva, Elizabeth found herself obliged to deny the Flemish exiles all countenance, support, or even entrance into her dominions; and the count le Marque, with his few desperate followers, was expelled the kingdom."