could not be equaled by reality, but they were. “His exterior almost told his story. Simplicity, grandeur, dignity, calm, kindness, firmness shone in his physiognomy as well as in his character. He was of a noble and high stature, his expression was gentle and kindly, his smile pleasing, his manners simple without familiarity. . . . All in him announced the hero of a republic.”
Abbé Robin's tribute
“I have seen Washington,” says Abbé Robin, “the soul and support of one of the greatest revolutions that ever happened. . . . In a country where every individual has a part in supreme authority . . . he has been able to maintain his troops in absolute subordination, render them jealous of his praise, make them fear his very silence.” Closen was one day sent with dispatches to the great man, and, like all the others, began to worship him.
As a consequence of this mission, Washington came, on the 6th of March, 1781, to visit the French camp and fleet. He was received with the honors due to a marshal of France; the ships were dressed; the troops, in their best uniforms, “dans la plus grande tenue,” lined the streets from Rochambeau's house (the fine Vernon house, still in existence) to the harbor; the roar and smoke of the guns rose in honor of the “hero of liberty.” Washington saw Destouches's fleet sail for its Southern expedition and wished it Godspeed; and after a six days' stay, enlivened by “illuminations, dinners, and balls,” he left on the 13th.
“I can say,” we read in Closen's journal, “that he carried away with him the regrets, the attachment, the respect, and the veneration of all our army.” Summing up his impression, he adds: “All in him betokens a great man with an excellent heart. Enough good will never be said of him.”
Rochambeau's disappointment
On the 8th of May, 1781, the Concorde arrived at Boston, having on board Count de Barras, “a commodore with the red ribbon,” of the same family as the future member of the “directoire,” and who was to replace Ternay. With him was Viscount Rochambeau, bringing to his father the unwelcome news that no second division was to be expected. “My son has returned very solitary” was the only remonstrance the general sent to the minister.
But the young colonel was able to give, at the same time, news of great importance. A new fleet under Count de Grasse had been got together, and at the time of the Concorde's departure had just sailed for the West Indies, so that a temporary domination of the sea might become a possibility. “Nothing without naval supremacy,” Rochambeau had written, as we know, in his note-book before starting.
In spite, moreover, of “hard times,” wrote Vergennes to La Luzerne, and of the already disquieting state of our finances, a new “gratuitous subsidy of six million livres tournois” was granted to the Americans. Some funds had already been sent to Rochambeau, one million and a half in February, with a letter of Necker, saying: “Be assured, sir, that all that will be asked from the finance department for your army will be made ready on the instant.” Seven millions arrived a little later, brought by the Astrée, which had crossed the ocean in 67 days without mishap. As for troops, only 600 recruits arrived at Boston, in June, with the Sagittaire.
The question of the hour: storm New York or relieve the South?
Since nothing more was to be expected, the hour had come for definite decisions. A great effort must now be made—the great effort in view of which all the rest had been done, the one which might bring about peace and American liberty or end in lasting failure. All felt the importance and solemnity of the hour. The great question was what should be attempted—the storming of New York or the relief of the South?
The terms of the problem had been amply discussed in letters and conferences between the chiefs, and the discussion still continued. The one who first made up his mind and ceased to hesitate between the respective advantages or disadvantages of the two projects, and who
