quarter, being only a major-general, the French admiral insisted on his right to command the combined attack on Newport. Sullivan, who had been cautioned by Washington against any collision in points of mere punctilio, proposed, and the French admiral assented to, an arrangement, by which the Americans were to precede him in landing, and the French troops to follow under the Count in person. The latter, however, soon after declined to act in conformity with this stipulation, and insisted that the landing and the attack should be simultaneous. Other trifling punctilios impeded the first operations of the allies, and a spirit was excited which might have destroyed all the benefits of the French alliance, had not the appearance of a British fleet produced the necessity of a good understanding, or at least, for a time, separated the contending parties. D'Estaing determined on offering battle to the enemy; but, previous to sailing, informed General Sullivan that on returning he would accede to his wishes. Thus a feud, which might have had a most injurious effect on the future operations of the allies, was arrested before it had settled down into a confirmed spirit of opposition.

But the consequences of these disputes remained festering in the bosoms both of the French and American officers, and operated on the hearts of the people of New-England, who, more than all the rest, were disinclined towards France. Their early annals were filled with affecting instances of suffering inflicted on their forefathers by the inroads of the French and Indians of Canada and the eastern border, and they had ever been accustomed to look upon them as their hereditary enemies. The claims of D'Estaing were, therefore, peculiarly grating to their recollections and their pride; and at one time it was feared they might go so far as to withhold supplies from the French fleet. Sullivan, too, indulged himself in some expressions in a general order which gave great offence to D'Estaing, who appealed to Congress. That wise and temperate body passed a resolution approving his conduct, and expressing its confidence in his zeal and attachment to the cause; and Washington, ever the instrument of good to his country, soothed his wounded feelings by letters, which operated so effectually, that from that time to the final consummation of the revolution at Yorktown

VOL. II.-B

there was no other struggle between the French and Americans but that of courtesy and gallantry. But still, though the threatening storm was thus averted by a wise forbearance, the lesson is important, as showing that it is always best for nations to fight their own battles in their own cause, and to depend for success on their single exertions, aided by the blessing of Heaven. But for the assistance of France, the contest might have lasted, perhaps, a little longer, but my firm conviction is, that the final issue would have been the same. In the words of the great Chatham, "Three millions of freemen, with arms in their hands, can never be conquered."

Washington was now in New-Jersey, watching, with eagle eye, the movements of the British in New-York. His old fate still pursued him. The British ministers, in anticipation of the consequences of the treaty of alliance between France and the United States, had reinforced their armies and navy to an extent that placed him again under the necessity of employing the shield instead of the sword in defence of his country. He was still compelled to ward off the blows of the enemy, rather than

inflict them. All that was left him was to act the sleepless watchman to the midnight plunderer.

In the latter end of the month of September, the British army, in two columns, one on either side of the Hudson, moved up that river, sweeping all before them. The object of Washington was now to secure the passes of the Highlands, and he accordingly held himself in readiness for that purpose. The enemy, however, after completing his foraging, returned to NewYork. It appeared that the design of this display on the Hudson was to cover an expedition to Egg Harbour, where a large quantity of merchandise and a number of vessels were destroyed. The operations of the French fleet were all this time impeded by its inferiority to that of the British. The latter, however, while off the harbour of Boston, encountered a great storm, which caused its dispersion for a time, and D'Estaing took the opportunity of sailing for the West Indies.

Nothing of consequence occurred within the sphere of Washington's action until the close of the campaign. The enemy detached a large force to operate in the South during the winter,

but sufficient remained for the protection of New-York against all the efforts of Washington, who soon after went into winter-quarters in the Highlands and the vicinity.

Here the army erected huts, and breasted the wintry winds and storms of the mountains as well as they could. Though destitute of many comforts, and but indifferently clothed, their situation was so far preferable to that of the preceding winter, at Valley Forge, that the contrast made them quite happy, and reconciled them to many privations. The remains of these huts are still to be seen in the Highlands; and a spring, from which Washington used to drink, is consecrated to his name. It bubbles forth from the roots of a tree in a little grove of oaks, growing just at the brink of a beautiful cascade, which falls into a crystal basin below, a descent of sixty or seventy feet. Its waters are much cooler than the surrounding springs; and so beautifully clear as to afford no unapt emblem of the character of him who preferred them to all others.

The last great service of Washington, during this year, was dissuading Congress from carrying into effect a magnificent plan for the ensuing campaign. This was no less than the con